#vv coining

[ienjoywritingfilth]

the wedding night

hi: i wrote this in an afternoon on the bus and barely edited this. it only exists because seeing that photo of General Acacius made me feel hornee things®. I don't know shit about roman gladiator times, this is just a debauched excuse to be railed by the man.

trope: forced marriage

pedro character: Marcus Acacius x female reader (you)

warnings: innocence kink, age gap (not specified, but he an old peepaw just how we like him) , names like whore because i am one, forced marriage, Au as fuck because i have no idea what happens in the movie, virgin bullshit, eating out, pp in vv, dubconish, i think that's everything.

RATED 18+

"Take to the bed," the muscular man tells you in a raspy voice as you enter the bedroom, wishing you had your fur. "I leave early for battle at dawn." 

He makes no move to leave and so you glance from the waiting bed back over to the imposing figure standing by the fire. His tousled, greying curls are touched by the flickering reflection of the flames behind him. 

This is all new to you and almost surreal. You've been taken from your modest home and brought here to a lavish home in Rome. You glance over at your new husband timidly. 

"Are you to remain here all night?"

"We are wed," he replies with a wry grin. "Of course we shall spend the night together." 

You've been shipped here under your father's greedy love for coin. And now you stand here in the bed chambers of the man who became your husband only hours ago. 

General Marcus Acacius; a man double your age with the kind of quiet strength that made you anxious when you first laid eyes on him today, only moments before he slipped the ring onto your finger and you were announced as his. 

He drank only a bit of wine at the wedding, a stark contrast to the family of yours that acted like the animals in Marcus' stables with every glass poured. Of course they would celebrate; they'd made a small fortune on your marriage, having sold you off like cattle.

And you now stand across the room from him, your husband, General Acacius, Marcus. A man who served under the infamous Maximus. He cuts a fearsome figure both on and off the battlefield with his broad, muscled frame and serious countenance.  

You wear the traditional wedding night garment, a thin dress that is practically see-through. You pull your arms over your chest, hiding your nipples that poke through the thin fabric.

When you'd come to the room you'd been surprised to see Marcus there waiting for you, stoking the fire. You'd been told by the servants that your new husband would be preparing for battle all night. It had brought you some comfort.

But Marcus is here in nothing but his tunic cinched at the waist. His armour is in a pile by the door, his sword there as well. Without it he's still terrifying. 

Marcus notes the arms you hold over your chest for modesty and he feels arousal begin to drip lazily into his veins. 

"Undress," he says plainly, his dark eyes trailing over your body. 

You make no move to follow his orders. If anything you seem angry with him. His fingers twitch next to his thigh as he waits for your compliance. It doesn't come. 

The dark grey tunic he wears hangs just above his knees so when he walks over to you you're able to see his muscled legs rippling with power. You quiver as he finally stands in front of you. One thick forearm goes to rest against the wall above your head, his neck craning so he can look you in the face.  

"I said undress."

"You will not order me about as if I were your slave," you seethe, your head craning away from him. "I am your wife."  

"I am twice widowed," Marcus murmurs as his wide finger traces the curve of your delicate collarbone. "I have come to realize I have little need for a wife."

"Then why bring me here away from my family and my homeland? Why marry me at all if you have no need of me?"

"I have no need for a wife," Marcus repeats roughly, his exhalation landing over your face like a wine-soaked cloud. "But a man always has need for a ready cunt."

You rear back and your hand flies through the air so quickly he's clearly not expecting it. The slap you deliver to his bronzed cheek is so hard that he flinches back at the sensation, but his head remains facing you. 

"I am no whore," you hiss. You've never been spoken to like this. "Nor a hole for you to fill at your leisure." 

You're horrified when you see him lengthen under his tunic, thick and fearsome looking to your inexperienced eye. He smiles at you when you gaze back up at his face, a feral, ugly grin that has you backing against the stone wall as he advances, his pelvis nudging yours. 

"You will be fucked well," Marcus whispers. "So well you will happily call yourself my whore." 

You push at his broad chest, free of his usual armour and yet hard to the touch like iron. He doesn't budge, he just presses his pelvis into yours, pinning you to the wall. You feel him there between your legs, warm and waiting and large. 

His hand comes to grip your jaw, forcing your unwilling mouth to his. He kisses you fiercely, like he owns you. It disgusts you. He pries your lips open with his own and as he licks into your mouth his tongue tastes of sweet wine. 

You wince, trying to wrench from his grip. He only smiles, hands coming to meet at the collar of your nightdress.  You shriek as he begins tearing the delicate fabric down the middle and exposing your breasts to the chilled air. 

"I desire to see what is now mine," he murmurs, a hand coming to palm your breast. 

You bat his hand away, slipping sideways from him into the centre of the room near the bed. He doesn't look upset; he looks amused, as if he were playing a game. 

You hold the torn fabric of your dress at your chest, covering yourself as you back away from his advancing figure.  

"I am not your anything," you grimace. "Leave at once." 

Though your voice is strong you back away, a shuffled step for each strong stride of his until you feel the bed hit the back of your calves. 

"This is our wedding night," Marcus says silkily. "And we must consummate."

Before you can deny him he jabs his strong fingers on either side of your clavicle, causing you to fall backwards onto the bed. You gasp when he follows after you, lifting the hem of your dress. 

His head is thrust under, making you kick out your legs in fear. What is he doing under there? Fear has you convinced he may bite you. 

You go to pull away further when you feel him starting to part your thighs. You squeal anxiously, twisting. 

"Get off!"

"Calm yourself, wife," he orders gruffly from beneath your nightgown. He's stronger than you, his hands wide and it's only seconds before he's got your legs hinged over his shoulders. 

You continue to cry out, desperate for escape. You're terrified of this brute of a man. 

His mouth finds your cunt swollen and wet and when he lays his wide tongue flat and licks a stripe up the seam you suddenly go quiet. You can feel him smile against the lips of your pussy. 

"So soft," he murmurs, kissing your sex reverentially before his tongue darts out to sample you again. It's been so long since he had a cunt this soft and sweet against his tongue. 

Your hips jump and Marcus can't help but smirk. Under your nightgown all he can see and smell is your sex, open widely thanks to his hands, glistening with his saliva and your own arousal. He feasts on you, groaning as he gets swept away by the sensations your whimpers create in him. 

 You're on your back, looking up at the beautifully painted ceiling. A celestial pattern that mimics the night outside your window. Your chest heaves, nipples pert and straining as his mouth works against your cunt, making you tingle everywhere.

He's on his knees beside the bed, you're thighs hinged on his broad shoulders, the cream of your skin against his ears. He doesn't care that tomorrow his knees will ache because devouring you as you thrash for him on the bed has him feeling like a young man again. 

He sucks the lips of your pussy into his mouth with relish, his hips grinding into the edge of the bed when you cry out. You hear him chuckle before he continues and the sound reminds you that you don't want him touching you like this and bringing out these feelings you've only heard whispers about. Not a man who has decided you're nothing more than a thing to fill. 

"Ssstop," you slur above him, unable to focus as your vision blurs.  

"No."

You keen breathily, your hands scrabbling to grip the bed. His broad hands cup your ass, forcing your sex harshly against his mouth. You hear vulgar slurping noises coming from underneath your nightgown and your eyes roll back. 

You've never had a man before. Your mother warned you about husbands and their selfish desires in the bedroom. But this doesn't feel like what she warned you about. This feels good. 

You feel a pressure beginning between your legs and you panic, trying to force Marcus' head from between your thighs but he just grips stronger, tilting his head from side to side as he drinks you down, his tongue wide and stuffing your cunt. 

When be begins to suck brutally at your clit, bliss overtakes you, causing your back to arch and a shuddering scream to leave your throat. 

Your hips undulate as he continues to fuck you with his tongue, stopping only when you begin to whine that it is too much. He licks you gently after that, cleaning the evidence of your orgasm with relish. 

With a creak he stands beside the bed and removes his tunic. In a daze you lay on your elbows, gazing up at his broad, muscular body knowing that if he wanted to he could snap you like a twig. His cock rests heavily between his legs, just as thick and long as you thought. Despite the pleasure he brought you there's still that glint in his dark eyes, a mockery that you can't stand.

"Get away from me."

Your cunt pulses, drooling with your previous release. You try to curl into a ball, facing away from him. 

You think he may leave you be but you feel his hand grip your waist. You thrash as he rips the rest of the nightdress off your body before forcing you onto your hands and knees. 

"It is now my turn to take, wife. Ready yourself." 

He pushes you down onto your belly, curving your ass up to the sky. Then he crawls over you, his hands pinning yours to the bed under his.  You feel him there at your entrance and you feel terrified tears stream over your cheeks. 

"No need for fearful tears," he assures you as his mouth meets your neck. "You will be crying for more of my cock soon enough."

You cry out as he pushes the head of his length between your dripping folds. He's much too big, the intrusion too great. 

"I will make this quick," he grunts. "For your benefit."

Marcus can hardly believe how good the velvet clench of your cunt feels sliding along his cock as he pushes through your virginal barrier. Not since his first wife has he come close to anything this divine.

His teeth come to grip at your shoulder, biting there, marking you as he feeds his cock into your pussy from behind. 

Your cries are muted, your pain ignored, because all Marcus can feel is bliss. Bliss as he marks you forever as his. Bliss as his thick cock stretches your walls, bliss as your pussy stings straining to take him all. 

And by the time he's buried with his hips against your ass, your shoulder is bruised with the indents of his teeth. 

"No more," you beg as he begins to move within you. "Let it be done." 

"We have only started," he muses, kissing your damp cheek. "The best is yet to come."

His frame is so broad it covers you entirely, like you're wearing him as a robe draped over your curved body. He rocks into you as his massive hands press yours into the bed.  

You feel him pull slightly out before buying himself within your womb. You cry out, head falling forward as the slick feel of his cock buries itself deeper and deeper with every subsequent thrust. With every pump he moves the both of you forward before pulling you back. 

And just when the pain is too great, you feel it morph into pleasure. The feel of him thrusting in and out going from sharp to a pleasurable throb. 

Marcus senses the change in you when your back starts to arch and your hips start to lean back to meet his. You're enjoying it now, just as he knew you would. 

"You like this."

He grins to himself when you don't answer and instead let your head hang between your shoulders. 

He continues to tease you, never letting up, waiting until your noises become breathless and needy and then he recedes, chuckling when you whimper his name. 

What feels like eternity later the two of you are slick with sweat, your limbs shaking as Marcus watches you from above. His hands are on your hips now, pulling you against him. 

He spreads your cheeks wide, groaning when he watches his thick cock filling your tight pussy to the brim. 

You're begging for him to give you the same pleasure as before, nearly sobbing with how cock-drunk you are. He feels so good buried between your thighs. 

Marcus only smirks down at you, a hand pressed on your lower back, urging your ass up higher for him. He thinks about all the things he's going to do with you before leaving for battle. 

The thought is exciting him, sending him erratically pumping as he tilts you back, hand coming to strum your clit as your spine kisses his front. He holds you on his thighs, spread wide and bouncing.  

"What are you?" He pants, his lips squished against your cheek, his fingers curling, making you see stars. 

"You're. . . You're wife," you manage to croak out, your hands gripping his forearm slung over your chest. 

He fucks harder into you, his cock hitting the spot your own fingers can never manage. It's causing more stars behind your eyes, your body limp in his grip like a doll. 

"What are you?" Marcus demands again, only now he punctuates his question with a firm slap to your cunt.  

You ache where he slapped, but a pleasurable one that sends you closer and closer to falling off the edge of bliss once more. Only this feels so much bigger, so much more intense than when his mouth was on you. 

"Say it." 

You writhe on his cock, held by one arm around your middle, the other fucking you with his thick fingers over your clit and his thicker cock splitting you with every upward thrust. 

"Please, Marcus."

Marcus is so sweaty, his muscles gleaming in the low firelight. He moans lowly, the sound making your toes curl. Then his warm breath is hot on the side of your face. 

"Say it and I will give you all that you desire." 

You're so close, that pleasure ebbing and coming back stronger with every swipe and thrust. You try to sound it out, but the shame overtakes you again.

"I am you. . . I am your. . ."

Marcus is groaning into your ear again, his thighs twitching as your arousal soaks down his length. But he doesn't stop filling you over and over, his eyes closing as he revels in the pleasure of your milking cunt. 

"Say it." 

And now he presses the heel of his palm against your sex, holding you by the throat under your chin as your head snaps back onto his shoulder. Exposed like an animal Marcus stakes his claim, latching his mouth onto your neck and sucking. 

"I am . . . I am. . ." 

His thrusting continues and now he forces you back onto your hands and knees, draping his body over yours, fingers and cock never stopping, only drilling you from a new angle. He watches your sweet ass ripple for him as he pounds into your cunt, marvelling at how puffy and shiny and perfect she is. 

"Say it," he booms and you can feel his thrusting growing staggered, his body fucking into you with all that he has.

And you can't hold the words back any longer, not when it feels like your very ecstasy hinges on them being said out loud. It tears from you, ripped from your very vocal chords as he sinks into you, your voice shrill and cracked as you scream it.

"I am your whore!" 

The answering groan of Marcus in your ear makes you cry out loudly, coating his stroking fingers with hot arousal as you cum. 

“My whore,” he hisses as you buck against him.

You shake the entire time, confused at how everything in you burst like a ripe berry on the vine and yet you remain outwardly unchanged. Surely you very soul must have left you at that pinnacle of pleasure. You've never felt anything like it. 

And yet here you remain, in his arms in his bed, human and alive. You both pant heavily, the room smelling of sex and sweat and the oils in your hair. 

Marcus tugs you against him and you roll towards his body, pliant and willing. His mouth finds yours but it's soft and delicate. Your hands run through his soft, greying curls. 

"Are you satisfied?" 

You ask it quietly, almost afraid to know his true thoughts. He's experienced in so many ways, twice your age, strong and capable. And yet the kiss he gives you is gentle. It curves as he smiles against your waiting mouth. 

"I am, wife." 

[seelestia]

✧ the gambler and his knight.

aventurine can't stand having his outfit exposed to the elements nor to the rude hands of clients that won't cooperate – luckily for him, he has you to take care of it all. { aventurine with a bodyguard!reader. }

⎯ fluff & angst. 2.9k wc. headcanons w/ some written scenes. the plot is vv subtle but it's there a.k.a aventurine simps for you (jokingly) but you both end up catching feelings (not jokingly). mentions of violence, death & russian roulette. pre-penacony timeline. a self-indulgent piece to celebrate this blog's 2nd anniv! ★

★ 〜 masterlist.

© seelestia on tumblr, june 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

aventurine who graciously welcomes you under his employment with a game. just a little something to ease your nerves and get you used to his ways. you look at him with such incredulity as if he just fell and hit his head silly. he pays no mind to this – finds it to be amusing a great deal, actually. keep it up, newcomer!

“heads or tails?” he asks, flipping a coin in the air and catching it seamlessly. a routine for him, you would've figured from the sight. “that's. . . an odd way of saying hello,” you point out but your tone bears no hint of protest. he notices that.

“i've heard that one before,” aventurine tilts his head with a smile, nonchalant. “so what's your guess?”

“tails,” you reply without any delay. it's a mindless answer; getting it wrong this way would prove to bear less disappointment compared to putting actual thought in it. “heads for me then,” he whistles.

aventurine opens his palm. it's heads. you frown as if to suspect foul play—but you don't because you know about his notoriously good luck—and your new boss chuckles, almost placatingly.

“looks like i win,” he grins without a care in the world at all. “aren't you starving? let's fetch ourselves a meal, friend.”

a loss rewarded with a prize? you blink. with grace so in contrast to the whiplash you feel, aventurine walks past you with a trail of expensive perfume in his wake. obviously, he expects you to follow and you do after a moment's reluctance.

(this guy is more confusing than the stellaron.)

aventurine who grows quite fond of seeing you acquiesce to his wishes, whether serious or trivial. could you ward off those reporters? could you pour him a drink? could you play a game of poker with him? could you join him for lunch? you're always so professional that he starts to find some mirth in pushing your buttons (never too much). unlucky for you, he does it to be affectionate and lucky for him, you always say yes even if you roll your eyes every single time.

aventurine who trusts you with his credit card. . . to a worrying degree. when asked if he's sure about this, he just waves it off and says it'll be safer in your hands. seriously, this card has been in your possession longer than it's ever been in his. sometimes, he does ask for it back – only to drop some 200k credits to your account. “a tip for doing a good job,” he'd wink casually while you're flabbergasted beyond belief.

aventurine who finds it extremely attractive whenever you step in to protect him from harm. dealing with uncooperative clients is a day in his life, yet some are so brutish they resort to getting physical – but he has you to make sure their hands stay off him. a gun in his direction? knocked off before the trigger even has a chance to get pulled. reaching out to grab him by the collar? they're already on the ground, your foot threateningly pressed on their back as a warning. what a dashing sight – and thanks to you, his pristine outfit has been saved more times than he could count at this point.

aventurine who likes to call you his “knight in shining armor” teasingly. awh, you don't like it? he thinks you're more than deserving of that title with the way you always swoop in to get him out of trouble. if the thousands of credits he gives you aren't enough yet, won't a cute title suffice? “it sounds corny,” you tell him with a grimace—and maybe, yes—but he just chirps coyly, “dunno. i think it's fitting.”

aventurine who makes it his responsibility to check on you after a rough mission. credits are no problem, he'd even reserve the most expensive private doctor in the cosmos if that means you'll recover faster. sadly, he has little to no medical skills – so the most he can offer you is bandages. sure, you can take a bullet to the stomach and handle a punch or two, that's your job, but what about tiny scratches? . . .don't tell him you're about to reject his kind offer.

“what's your favorite color?” he queries, somewhat out of the blue considering the situation where he is helping you tend to a minor cut on your finger. you raise an eyebrow, “why do you wanna know?” as he gently plasters a plain-colored bandage on your skin (which he's only been granted permission to after minutes of begging you to let him do it).

“for the bandages,” aventurine answers. he finds no need to hide his intentions as he runs a thumb over the bandage, softly as to not hurt you, to keep its position secure. “so that the next time you ask, i'll have some in your favorite color for sure.”

“how. . . thoughtful of you,” you snort, amused.

(briefly, he resists the urge to ask if he can place a kiss on your cut for 'luck'. but if he does, you might have his head. so, he'll try another time.)

aventurine who slowly begins to find a sense of comfort in your company. maybe, it's the way you scoff at his quips with a smile or the way you always tell him to be careful. maybe, it's the way you take him seriously or the way you stay by his side—is your job description the only reason why?—or maybe, he's just pathetic and reeks of so much loneliness you feel sympathetic. he can't tell, but he hopes the luxuries he has can persuade you to stay just a little longer. even if you don't actually care. (you do.)

aventurine who notices how anxiety brims in your gaze when you watch him gamble at the table – with a sum too high to be considered sane and sometimes, his own life. he can see it all; how your hands shake as if you want to reach out, how your lips tremble as if you want to tell him to stop. but this is what he's made for, is it not? he'll survive one way or another. . . until fate decides the bill for all his past good fortune is finally due. and when the time comes, he'll be ready for it. (will you?)

a game of russian roulette.

it always starts with thrills only to end with carnage spilled all over the table. luck is the only thing worth praying for at that point and oh, is luck not the dearest friend aventurine ever had? hence the reason why he always agrees, not with a yes but with a “why not?”.

you're there as his protector, yet utterly condemned to the role of a witness as soon as aventurine nods along to that darned game. panic rushes through your veins as the gun is passed around so relaxedly, so easily with laughter all around. aventurine's next in line, you realize grimly. the next decision that comes after is spontaneous, so different from your usual calculated nature – you drag him out of the casino in a frenzy before the weapon even lands in his hand. in your head, there is no other thought louder than: he could've died.

“a shame i didn't get to the fun part,” you hear him hum from behind you, too disturbingly calm for your liking. the bustling noises inside the establishment have all but faded into the background. “that was close, hm?” he laughs, a sound you would've found endearing if this was another occasion. any occasion that doesn't involve teetering dangerously on the precipice of death.

you stop in your tracks and aventurine, behind you, naturally follows. your silence is something he first takes note of and the way your hand shakes as it holds his is the second. you still haven't let go. what's going through your mind? he calls out your name softly, perplexed at your lack of explanation.

“. . .why did you say yes?” you respond with a bitter question. “you could've died. you almost died,” you try to hold back a shout – yet, your words are spat in such a fusillade he feels a seed of guilt starting to bloom inside his lifeless heart. he discards it in favor of putting on a frivolous smile.

“oh, relax,” he lets out a chuckle, one that sounds so ignorant of the taut tension in the air. “it's just some russian roulette. why so serious?” he shrugs as if to physically brush off any seriousness clinging to his figure. his remark gives off the assumption that every single hint of your worry has flown over his head.

“it is serious. . .” you bite your bottom lip. he sneers in return, “yeah? since when?” as if to challenge you to give an actual answer. his life is full of risks, to say otherwise would be a lie. “you're sweet for worrying but you don't actually care about me that much, do you?” he snickers to himself. like the thought of your caring about him can't possibly be true, like it's all just a terrible joke.

but he's the only one laughing.

aventurine falls quiet and finally, genuinely meets your gaze for the first time that night. he doesn't like what he sees. your lips are downturned, unamused and saddened—you do care, a realization that has been left unsaid—and all remainders of levity in him are replaced by immediate dread. it only now registers that the anger, concern, frustration on your face are for him; they're the unavoidable consequences from caring about him.

(his eyes widen. no, no, no.)

“c'mon, you—” he covers it up with a carefree smile, as feigned as it came. he shoves his hand in one of his pockets. it's shaking. “. . .worry too much. you've seen me play a handful of games before. i've never lost a wager, remember?”

you don't look convinced at all. in fact, you look as if you've arrived at the brink of seething. “and if you do? for once in your life, you lose?” you prod him for more. for something, for anything – perhaps, for a promise that he won't do it again.

(but you know aventurine, you know there would be no such promise.)

“then i lose,” he says, final and resigned. “there's really nothing else to it,” he tries to offer you another smile but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “hey. at least, you'll be there to witness my spectacular fall, right? it'll be a show to remember.”

he nearly doesn't manage to keep up the façade. it's already as precarious as it can be. you don't reply to him this time – instead, you let go of his hand to wipe at your cheeks. his gaze trails after your fingers and it freezes upon seeing the pearly tears falling free from your eyes.

aventurine has never seen you cry before. you're always so stone-faced, so hard to break that he recalls almost cheering when he heard you laugh for the first time. that was when you finally won a round of poker against him. a pity, he would've reminisced about the memory more. . . if only the matter of losing and winning a game isn't as serious as it is now.

“don't say that,” you mutter, harshly wiping away at the incessant tears pouring from your eyes more than you'd ever allow them to. some make their way into your mouth, they taste just as bitter as your current frustration. does he truly value his life so little? you can't fathom it, you can't fathom him at all.

but there is one thing you were certain of, at the very least: “you hired me to protect you,” you shake your head unrelentingly, “so i'll do it. until you throw me away, i won't let you die.”

you've stopped crying then. aventurine feels remorse; the tears that you shed because of him are starting to dry. the selfish part of him wants to reach out and brush them away with his thumb – but would you let him? would this lead you further down the rabbit hole that is him? in the end, he decides against it.

“. . .i'm sorry,” he sighs instead, raking a hand through his messy blond hair. whatever it is he is apologizing for, he doesn't have a clue either. he lets his eyes slip shut. he can't bear to look at you, can't bear to look at his pitiful reflection in your eyes.

(he's not worth caring about, can't you see? he dances hand in hand with death – there is no need to subject yourself to being a spectator.)

the two of you then part ways that night with shallow pleasantries on your tongues. no inside jokes, no evident yearning for the other to stay, no more than an awkward exchange of “i'll see you tomorrow.”

on his way 'home', regret and relief clash to form something inexplicably hollow inside kakavasha's chest. he wanted to wipe away your tears—what a regret—but if he did, they would've burned on his skin and became another mark to haunt him—what a relief he didn't. and frankly, if destiny is about to reap his debt, he'd rather go with no regrets at all.

whether those regrets include you? he doesn't have an answer just yet.

(the name at the bottom of his contract with fate is signed as kakavasha. but you wouldn't recognize that name. not as him, at least.)

aventurine whose eyes can't flutter close at night ever since thoughts of you fill his mind more than they already do before. you care for him, you want him to live—all his fault, he allowed himself to get too close—but these realizations are rooted in too deep and refuse to leave. what to do, what to do, what to do?

it isn't supposed to turn out like this.

what he and you have is meant to be transactional; he'd be spared from unnecessary scuffles and you'd be compensated with monetary payment. he means to keep it superficially fun; for him to tease you with jests—so you'd stay and save him from the deafening silence in his head—and for you to dismiss him with that adorably annoyed look on your face. just some silly banter, that's it.

so then, since when are there rounds of poker where he'd coo over your frown when you lost? or the sound of your lecturing after he secretly got you a high-end item? or meals shared together where you'd bicker over the bill? or bandages in your favorite color kept inside his bedside table? since when do you start to care? . . .since when does he start to care?

think of something else.

kakavasha tosses and turns in his bed, but the soft pillows and blanket do nothing to quell these bothers of his. are feelings always this complicated? he places a hand over his eyes, tired and exhausted, and stares at the ceiling as if it could provide him with an answer.

but there's no use.

in a moment void of logical thinking, he reaches for his phone and hovers a finger over your name in his contacts. he is usually good friends with bad ideas – but not this time, he sets his phone down and lets out a frustrated sigh that only his expensive pillows are there to hear.

(for gaiathra's sake, he hasn't even told you his real name yet.)

aventurine who becomes awfully distant the next time he sees you. you accompany him to meetings with clients per usual, but it's different. . . he talks to you succinctly, not verbosely with that trademark grin of his. his face is bereft of the things you grow to like seeing on him. a sincere smile instead of one just for show, for example. but even that's difficult to ask for since he only speaks to fill the silence with empty chatter. he doesn't look you in the eyes either; you feel a pang of hurt, you've always loved his eyes.

aventurine who discards all thoughts of you as soon as he steps inside pier point to be assigned a project. a conclave between the stonehearts is a matter of top confidentiality and you, dutifully, are ordered to wait for him outside the office. though, he'll admit; your absence by his side actually does leave a gaping void—such hypocrisy, really—but at least, those pesky voices in his head know how to shut up when it comes to work.

“penacony. . . is diamond finally ready to do something about it?”

aventurine rests his left hand on the small of his back, fiddling with the clubs-shaped detailing on the fabric there. it looks like an act of idleness from afar, but anyone observant enough would know it's a way to subdue whatever nerves he wishes to hide.

he waits for the person in front of him, gazing at the purplish-red sky of pier point at sunset, to speak. for their next words shall mark the start of his next journey in fate's course.

aventurine who hesitates to let you come to penacony with him at first. but it'd be poor reasoning not to, since some might have a bone to pick with him as the corporation's representative. . . and he knows you'll protest to come with anyway. fine then, situationship discomfiture be damned – not even a second after he steps out of the meeting, his neon eyes finally meet yours. “so, how does a trip to penacony sound?” he announces with a confident smile. you blink, noticing how his lips are wobbling at the sides. you don't say no, however. (if only the two of you know what sort of ride you're getting yourselves into.)

— thanks for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. why don't we all sob over this man like it's a cryfest ♡

[lolinawinii]

Identityfluid, kind of like genderfluid, but your whole identity changes? If you have a different name that works better, feel free!! :3

For example (if needed), one day, I'm a transamab cishet man who's 20, and the next day, I'm a permatween non-binary who goes by it/its and a different name.

coined !! vv interesting term i luvluv doing it <3333

IDENTITYFLUID !!!

a -fluid identity like genderfluid ,, but your whole identity changes !! this includes name ,, gender ,, age ,, and possibly more !!

i rlly hope u like this flag ,, i personally do !!

[talonabraxas]

“With the Wand createth He. With the Cup preserveth He. With the Dagger destroyeth He. With the Coin redeemeth He.” -Liber Magi vv. 7-10.

The Magus Talon Abraxas

[coyotecoining]

SICKITIS

@ T3R|\/| FOR VVH3|\| U R S!CK BUTT U DO|\|'T K|\|OVV VVH@T VV!TH!

(translation: a term for when you are sick, but you don't know what with!)

hi ho! galaxy actually coined this term, i'm just helping her post!

-kermit

[armyflags]

are ur reqs open ?? if so ,, may i req transsnvffwh0re // transsnvffslvt ?? for when u id as a snvffwh0re/slvt ?? i prefer if it had a cutecore // cutegore theme and also inspired by the song ""snvff girl"" by horrormovies :333 tyty vv much if u make it and feel free to ignore if reqs are not open !! (( 0=o ,, v=u ))

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎TRANS SNUFF WH0RE

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‎When one identifies as being a ' Snuff Whore ' . ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‎For whatever specified / unspecified reasons .

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‎If already coined consider as an alt . Req by @.lolinawinii . ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‎No DNI . Just be nice / civil about it . Free for anyone .

[agustdiv1ne]

hii congrats on 3k you deserve it!!! i love your works so much you're one of my favorite writers here <3 can i request for the event yeonjun + howl's moving castle + fluff and smut ? love you <3

NOW SHOWING...

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: fantasy, fluff, smսt

wc: 3.2k

details + warnings: minors + blank/ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked, yeonjun as howl (take these two pics for reference,, phew), mc as sophie (but no defining physical features are described besides silver hair), this takes place after the events of the movie aka flying castle era, light dom/sub dynamics, vv soft sex, oral (f receiving), they are so in love it's sickening honestly

notes: starting this event off strong with one of my ults paired with one of my favorite movies...*visibly quaking* and ilyt nonnie <3 you're the sweetest

humming to yourself, you amble down the cobblestone path of a town far from the one that you once considered home. your dress brushes against your legs as you continue forward, the soft fabric rustled by a cool, gentle breeze characteristic of spring. above, clouds drift about the cerulean sky, the sun's rays gentle and warm where they kiss your skin. you soon spot the door that you had first emerged from when you had set out to complete a handful of errands earlier in the afternoon.

your focus on the door falters at the mouth watering scent wafting from a nearby stall, something saccharine and warm. perhaps one more stop is in order, you find yourself thinking as you part from your original path. your feet lead you over to the older woman overseeing the small stand surrounded by other passersby nibbling at the sweets she sells. the crow's feet around her eyes appear when she smiles at you, her chin-length hair a similar silver hue to your own.

“hello, my dear,” she greets, her voice soft and worn with time. as she continues, her hands work in tandem to package some of the treats that had lured you over. “how may i help you?”

you offer her a polite smile while you request four of the small, half-moon pastries filled with molasses-rich sugar and chopped nuts. steam rises from the ones that have just finished cooking, ready to be packaged for awaiting customers. she nods at you, smiling, as she quickly wraps up and hands the fresh ones off to a woman and her two young children to your left. the youngest hums in delight once he takes a bite, and the three of them head off down the road.

“your hair is quite beautiful, dear,” she says, the twinkle in her eyes signifying the truthfulness of her words as you place the correct amount of coins into her awaiting palm. “i’ve never seen someone so young with such a shade. it suits you well.” 

“oh, thank you! that is very kind of you to say,” you reply, your soft voice imbued with surprise. while most do not comment, you have witnessed firsthand the gawking and stares of judgement that your hair has garnered in your travels. the hue is a reminder of the curse you once endured, but the fond memories it brings forth far outweigh any negative reactions you have received thus far. warmth fills your chest at the compliment. 

she wraps and hands you your own pastries seconds later. bowing your head slightly, you voice your gratitude before you realize she has given you one extra. you attempt to hand one back to her, the others tucked into the basket hanging off of your arm. “ma’am, i believe you may have given me one too many—”

“nonsense,” she winks, pushing your hand back towards you. “consider it a gift.”

guilt swirling in your stomach, you try to hand her another coin. however, she refuses, shooing you away from her stand with well-wishes of safe travels. with a final shallow bow and kind words in return, you depart from the stall, your steps light and springy.

embarrassingly giddy after the sweet interaction, you scurry down the street much quicker now, eager to return home. home — it is what you used to call your family's hat shop, but now...now, home is what you call yeonjun, his youthful apprentice, kai, calicfer, heen, even the witch of the waste. they are your home, and nothing could ever exceed the joy that that truth brings you.

you remove one of the pastries from your basket, unwrapping it to take a bite, eyes widening at the sweet, syrupy taste that coats your tongue. delicious is the sole word that comes to mind. the warm delicacy only serves to heighten your mood, and it is long gone before you even reach your destination. you are tempted to reach for another, but decide against it. a hand wraps around the knob and twists, and suddenly, you are no longer in the town, but soaring high above in yeonjun's — and now, too, your own — flying castle.

“i’m home!” you call as you enter, using the heel of your boot to swing the wooden door closed behind you. though he is no longer confined to the hearth, calcifer sits there anyway; it has become habit after his years bound to yeonjun.

“oh, look who’s decided to come back!” he exclaims, flames growing brighter at the sight of you. “yeonjun’s been sulkin’ in his room since ya left — i’ve been dyin’ of boredom out here!”

you breathe a laugh at calcifer’s dramatics, looking for the young boy who is usually around when you return. “where is kai?”

“out. more magical apprentice-y tasks to do, i guess,” he replies, inspecting you as you set the basket down with pursed lips. “why the long face?”

“i got him a sweet from a stall, and it’s still hot,” you hum, beginning to place the produce and other items that you purchased onto the table. “i suppose you will have to warm it up for him later.”

“do i look like some kinda servant?” he asks, indignant. he continues to ramble about his now free status and how he doesn’t need to listen to you while you continue to remove items from your basket, placing the four remaining pastries to the side. 

huffing, you finally wave the firewood you had bought for him. “how about now?”

calcifer gasps at the sight, his small arms appearing to beckon you over. he scoffs, “alright, c’mon, i’ll do it. should’ve just said you had that first.”

you swiftly gather a decent amount of wood in your arms and head over to him, handing him one after another to greedily chomp down. with each one, he grows a bit larger, brighter, his glowing yellow center expanding.

“at this rate, i’ll start likin’ ya better than yeonjun,” the fire demon claims through a mouthful of lumber, snatching another piece from the now dwindling pile that you hold. 

“you already do, just admit it,” you quip, grinning down at him. 

“admit what?” an inimitably deeper voice asks. head whipping around, you find yeonjun leaning against the doorway, lips quirked up in a smirk with his arms folded across his broad chest. a loose, white blouse envelopes his torso and is tucked into primly tailored trousers.  

“oh, nothing for you to fret over,” you tease, well aware that he likely heard the vast majority of the conversation. he tuts, striding over to wrap his arms around your waist from behind, his chin coming to rest upon your shoulder as you present calcifer with the final piece of wood from your makeshift heap. the ends of his hair tickle your skin. he hums something low and quiet, pressing his soft, plump lips against your neck. calcifer, in turn, emits a nauseated heave. 

“if ya gonna act all lovey dovey around me, i’ll just leave,” the ball of flame huffs, beginning to float in the air. 

yeonjun chuckles, his arms pulling you tighter against him. “no need. i was meaning to steal this one away from you, anyway.”

“oh, great! just wonderful!” he sneers, sinking back down to the stone hearth and glowering at the man who leads you back towards the doorway. “spare my ears while ya at it!”

once you are alone, yeonjun wastes no time in pressing you against his silken bedsheets. he balances himself above you with a single forearm, his hips tucked between your parted thighs and hiked up dress. his lips waste no time in enveloping your own. slow, languid — he takes great care in savoring you, ensuring that you are as close as possible with his free hand cupping your cheek. his cheeky tongue slips into your mouth to curl against yours, causing you to exhale a muffled whine.

before you are able to slide your hands up his shoulders and around the back of his neck, he pulls away. staring up at him, you find chestnut eyes brimming with adoration. the sight of his disheveled hair and shiny, kiss-bruised lips sends flurries of butterflies through your stomach.

"“you taste so sweet, love,” he murmurs as he brushes his thumb against your cheekbone. his words dissipate the heady fog creeping into your mind, and you reach up to grab his hand.

“the pastries!” you exclaim with wide eyes. attempting to sit up, you gently push him back onto his knees. you catch the furrow of his brow, the pout forming on his lips, and you move to explain. “i purchased pastries for us to try while i was out — the stall owner even gave me one more for free! isn’t that delightful?” 

yeonjun blinks. hard. how you are whining into his mouth one moment and growing distracted by sweets the next is quite beyond him, but it nonetheless causes an endeared smile to pull at the corners of his lips.

“you should try it while they’re still hot! i’ll go fetch one for you,” you continue, mistakenly taking his grin for excitement. swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you stand and begin to scurry over to his bedroom door, him rising from the bed going unnoticed.

despite your newfound goal, your lover does not allow you to stray too far, catching you by the waist and pulling you back against him. his fingers weave together against your stomach, locking you in his embrace, unable to wriggle away.

“don’t leave me,” he pleads, and though you are unable to see it from your position, his tone betrays the pout that he sports. “i feel as if we haven’t seen each other in ages.”

“i’ve only been away for a few hours. you have survived much longer,” you giggle, reaching up to run your fingers through his onyx hair while he kisses up your neck, nipping the skin where you are most sensitive. you allow a quiet moan to escape, a shuddered breath following soon after when he does not halt his ministrations. attempting to pry his hands off, you say, “i’ll be just a minute, if you would let me go.”

whining in protest with his nose nuzzled against your jaw, his grip grows ironclad, the space between your bodies diminishing — and that is when you feel it: the hardness that presses snugly against your rear. heat floods your cheeks at the realization, and your struggle to escape comes to an abrupt end. “love, the pastry—”

“i’ll try it later. i’d much rather taste you at the moment,” he interrupts, voice low and breathy against your ear. the sheer desperation in his voice causes heat to pulse in your center. 

he pulls you back to bed with ease, aiding you in your descent to the sheets. his hands bunching the skirt of your dress up reveals your stocking-clad legs, the fabric squeezing the meat of your thighs in a way that causes him to gulp. he slips his body between your legs, a position reminiscent of mere minutes ago, taking his time in running his hands up and down sensitive skin of your inner thighs, traveling dangerously close to your covered center. goosebumps raise beneath his fingers as a shiver slinks down your spine.

while his actions are drenched in admiration mixed with a soft sense of desire, it is too much for you to bear. overwhelmed with bashfulness, you hide your face in your hands. above you, your lover tuts, as if dissapointed with your choice. prying your hands away, he gathers your wrists and presses them into the bed above your head.

“keep your hands there,” he orders, eyes half-lidded and glazed over with need. “or else i will stop.”

your heart skips a beat in your chest at his order, but you nod nevertheless. he simpers at your obedience.

“that’s my girl.”

and suddenly the desire to melt into a puddle washes over you. the words bring you back to the first day that you had encountered him; when he had saved you from two sleazy soldiers, flew you over the town square and helped you to a balcony before disappearing. that day, you had no inkling of just how drastically your life would change. how fate has landed you here, below that very man, in love with him...you have expressed your gratitude to whatever it is above countless times.

truly, you never thought of yourself to be one for praise, but your time with yeonjun thus far has unlocked a myriad of preferences you had never given a second thought to before. as the words echo in your head, you bite your lip to muffle a tiny whine.

chuckling, he lowers himself onto his stomach so that he is eye level with your center. a finger skates over the seam of your panties, sliding up your slit to press against your awaiting bud. all the while, his plump kiss and suckle their way up your thigh until he's nosing at the crease of your thigh, dangerously close to your folds. pulling away, he helps you slip the thin, soaked fabric from you with teasing touches until you are bare from the waist down, sans your stockings.

at the sight of your glistening core, he licks his lips, taking in the way you clench around nothing. you feel terribly exposed, like a sculpture in the center of a gallery, unable to hide. he coos at your trembling state. ever so sensitive, his little doe, even after so long. holding you open, his gaze travels back up past your heaving chest to your flustered face.

“eyes on me, sweetheart. want you to watch me.” he locks his gaze with yours as he dips down to trace your folds with tongue, reveling in the way your brow furrows and your lips part, teeth grazing your bottom lip for a moment. yeonjun is nothing if not a tease, however; he continues to repeat the same movements until you are battling with the urge to snap your eyes shut and burrow your head into the sheets, until you are pleading with him for more. conceding, he dips down to your entrance only to moan at your taste. yes, this is what he has been craving all day. his tongue dips inside for a moment before he licks a bold stripe up to your clit, his eyes fluttering closed while he takes his time in working you up. you cry out as the tip of his tongue slides under the hood, toying with the tiny bundle of nerves with practiced confidence. his lips do not stray far behind, wrapping around and sucking hard, basking in the choked moan you emit in response. 

but it's not enough.

he pulls away for a moment, hands squeezing your thighs. when you finally meet his gaze, he finds tears lining your bottom lashes, little dewdrops that cause your eyes to shine brighter.

“sing for me, sweetheart,” he says, his voice soft and hypnotizing. “as loud as you desire. when we’re in this room, no one can hear you but me.”

then, without waiting for your foggy brain to register his words, he dives back in with increased vigor, his lone goal being to make you fall apart, to cause you to let go those silly inhibitions that keep you as quiet as a mouse. he is more than pleased at the cries that follow.

while he loses himself in tasting you, you are falling apart. white-hot pleasure burns in the center of your stomach, a fire that grows hotter and brighter and causes you to grip the sheets harder with paled knuckles. it winds around you and spreads across the entirety of your being. with a mist-shrouded mind, all you can do is take what he provides, grinding against his lips. despite his warning from earlier, you reach down to thread your fingers through his hair and tug. this, evidently, sets him off; more beast than human, he devours you whole. he wants — no, needs your release. cum for me, darling, please cum for me — an unspoken plea, conveyed by his zealous tongue and lips, his grip on your thighs nearly bruising. and you listen, you listen so well despite his silence, the pleasure building and building and building and—

you shatter.

wailing, a supernova of pleasure overwhelms your body and soul, hot tears rolling streaming down your cheeks. your body no longer has a beginning nor an end — you feel as though you are floating above the bed rather than laying upon it, looking down at yourself, at the man betwixt your thighs, the care with which he extracts every drop of pleasure from your center, the patience he exudes while he delivers you back down to your true existence, back to him.

slowly, so very slowly, you return back to yourself, weary eyes fluttering open to find him hovering above you. his pupils hold profound concern, the rhythmic circling of his thumb against your cheek soothing to your mind. he's frowning, and you can see the gears spinning inside his head, wondering if he had finally gone too far.

“jjunie,” you whisper with an exhausted yet lovesick grin, pulling him close so that your foreheads press together — and with the melodic sound of your endearing nickname for him, the doubt, the guilt, festering deep in his chest vanishes. you spend a few moments gazing at each other, and you use the edge of your nail to trace his beauty marks while you bask in the presence of one another; just you and him, him and you. 

leaning up, you capture his lips, something soft and sweet and unhurried that causes your heart to pound against your ribcage. the heart — it can be such a fickle thing, always changing, always setting its sights on shiny, new things. yes, it can be quite fickle, but nothing can dispute the undeniable truth of your eternal, immutable love for yeonjun, and his for you. you may change your routines and what you eat and the tunes you sing, but your love is forever frozen in time. “find me in the future,” is what you once exclaimed to him, and he had done just that — and so, so much more.

despite your exhausted mind, you find yourself craving more. the hardness of his cock presses into your thigh, and you grind slightly into him. he stares down at you, lips parted, silently inquiring if you are okay: are you sure you would like to continue? it's a wordless exchange, the way you reach down to stroke him over his trousers, the cheeky bite of your lip. with that, the mischievous grin he wore previously returns.

“you’re absolutely insatiable,” he laughs, returning his lips to your neck.

“oh, please. you were the one who wanted this in the first place,” you tease back before you’re squealing at the sound of ripping fabric. “yeonjun!”

“i shall mend it later,” he shrugs, eyes darkening as he greedily takes in your now bare bosom. “right now, however, there are much more pressing matters.”

perhaps the pastries can wait a wee bit a longer.

3k event masterlist | main masterlist

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[ohlookiehereanotheruser]

Masterlist of Denied Requests 2

Please take a crack at it everyone! Second Wave! More will be added later on!

Mogai

Coinings:

could I please suggest a barn cat pet regressor flag?

A gender term for being connected to Stanford Pines from Gravity Falls? And/or the other (main) characters if you want to?

Editblr

Blinkies/Pixels/Stamps/Widgets:

hiii can i request stamps or blinkies based off of hitchcock by yorushika?

could you do astro from dandy's world stamps ?

can you make a cure majesty(from hirogaru sky precure !) widget? for twitter btw?

Userboxes:

"this user is a slasher protag", maybe with cyan/yellow and red/silver variants?

can I have a userbox with the text saying “this user is every woman” with the small image box being the album cover of chaka khan’s chaka (1978) album, and the background being a color similar to chaka’s dress in the album cover?

Moodboard/Stimboards:

can i please request a stimboard based on the warden from superjail? purples, reds, and just generally silly things would be vv cool!!

can i request a macalo and ivan (ftrf) stimboard??

can you pretty please make a x men nightcrawler stim board???

Could you do a stimboard of Stinky Chuzzle from Chuzzle 2?

do you think you could make a Shawn from total drama stimboard with related stims? -

do you think you could make a cosmic browines, lunchables, and koolaid themed stim board, or just a stim board thats themed around popular kids food back in the 2000s?

can i req a centricide stimboard?

Satw Sweden with lots of blue and yellow and also a technological theme stimboard?

can you do a plural rui stimboard? With rings of various colors?

applejack x pinkie pie stimboard? -

Can I get a moodboard based on Junior Spaceclaw with some mood of bug hating and the alike?

May I please request a moodboard of Willy Wonka from Wonka (2023) with the colors sage green and fuchsia?

Special:

Could you do a moodboard for Logan Mitchell/Kendall Knight (Big Time Rush - specifically from the show) using pictures of them from the show (not real life) with themes of devotion and dependency and purple and blue colours?

Icon Requests:

can i req some icons of judgement boy from the gregory horror show??

could you do emily dickinson paci icons?? (from the show dickinson, not the real person)

can i request x (mega man) icons if possible?

Can I ask for rukia kuchiki pfps / graphics? (Bleach)

Could you do some icons of Claude von Riegan from Fire Emblem: Three Houses/Three Hopes?

may i request sigewinne icons, please? -

can u do yugoslavian or serbian flag inanimate insanity tea kettle icons?

can i req icons of simon henriksson from cry of fear?

may i req gumi icons ? (vocaloid) (2 people asked for this)

Can I request a k-angel reply cons with like a super pastel pink color?

Rentry Graphics:

would it be possible to request a yuji itadori graphic?

Could you do dc graphics if possible? with nightwing please?

Can you make a rentry graphics themed bsd lucy card (Masquerade)

hi can i request a teardrop from bfdi graphics?

can you please do a dave strider rentry graphic thingie? -

Can I request Sua from alnst graphics please?

Can I request Ivan alien stage graphics? (two people asked for this)

Could u please make matching mizuan graphics?

Could I get graphics of empires s1 count fwhip?

Bill Cipher goblincore graphics plleeaassee? -

Hihi! Can you make some graphics of tsugumi aoba??

may I please request a chifuyu matsuno and keisuke baji (tokyo revengers) rentry graphic ?

Can I get a cute graphic of Allan from Smiling Friends? :3 Non gif, please... :]?

Could I request some ennis del mar rentry graphics perchance? (Real Person warning!)

Can i request some shadow the hedgehog graphics? -

Can I get some po-uta (vocaloid) graphics?

Can i request some pink-colored rentry graphics of koishi komeiji from touhou project please?

CAN I REQUEST DIGITAL WITCH MAYURA RENTRY GRAPHICS?

Can I have Pump from Spooky month graphics with a kidcore halloween aesthetic?

can I pls request yosuke hanamura graphics (p4) please and thank you? -

May I pls request cutesy graphics of Patisserie Peach from Princess Peach: Showtime?

can i please have shinjiro aragaki rentry graphics?

Can I get some rentry graphics for Rayman/Fakeman from Captain Laserhawk: a Blood Dragon Remix?

can you please make butter roll rentry graphics? With a weirdcore theme if possible?

could you make hua cheng graphics? -

can i please get yosuke hanamura graphics in a orange and white theme? preferably one with text that says INTERESTS on it!

could u do pest from regretevator rentry graphics? mostly red colored?

may i request tetora nagumo from ensemble stars rentry graphics?

can i get paul from eddsworld graphics please ?

NPTs/SNPTs:

iso from valorant id pack?

May i request a religious ID pack?

Can I request a barrel jellyfish id pack?

kinich npts pleasee?

can i req 3rd life ren names + pronoun suggestions? (NPs only) -

Could i get name suggestions for an envy (Inside Out Movie)?

Can i request an id pack based off of 1x1x1x1 from roblox :3?

Could I request name suggestions for Black Hat from Villainous?

could i please get some npts related to cannibalism?

Dividers/Borders:

can you please make a lotus border with leaves?

may i request some red Moonlight Cookie Alluring Crescent Moon Costume dividers from CR:OB please?

Purple science-y dividers please?

Can I get some sylveon themed banner/dividers?

Custom NPTs/SNPTs

None Submitted

PNG/Render/Mask Requests:

hiii may I request kyouka izumi from bsd renders??

Maybe kirishima pfp mask? (MHA)

can you please make a BFDI themed pfp mask?

could you make a columbina mask?

Layout Requests:

can you do a dark blue moon-themed shin tsukimi yttd layout?

could i request a rentry layout themed after the youtuber yumi ? it's perfectly okay if not !!! id love it if it had the colors pink and blue :)

Could I request a blue webcore discord layout for Spat from hamtaro?

could i req a matching ushijima and oikawa tumblr layout??

Can I request a light pink/ girly akaza layout? (akaza is from demon slayer.)

may i request ichisaki tumblr layouts? -

Could you do a tumblr layout of Kiui Watase from YoruKura aka Jellyfish can't swim in the night?

Could you do mizi and sua (alien stage) layout?

maria marionette layout, maybe? (Nijisanji warning)

can you do leafy bfdi + kangel nso graphics?

may I please request an Aether layout with themes of glitching and the color blue? No kin/id/me tags if possible. -

Package Request:

Can I geta xilonen tumblr layout, please? and maybe some replycons /the three paimon stickers?

Can I get a sea fairy cookie (crk) banner, pfp, big dividers (top and bottom), little dividers (middle), a few replycons, those little banners, and whatever else you can?

Template Request

Could i request a mitsuri rentry template for a yumeship/fictional other list? ✅

can request a temp rentry of Colette from brawl stars?

could u do an ivantill rentry template?

This is the second list, at this point, people have submitted asks to us. Thank you for your cooperation with the enititative.

[william-will-cipher]

~ Headcanons List

List of my headcanons and stuff for Will! and such...

Stanford uses Will like a battery of sorts, sorta like the dream captor au, but instead of trapping him in a bubble, he's chained down(Physically and spiritually).

The amulets take power from Will himself, so whenever they are used, it hurts Will since it forced him to use his powers, even if he doesn't know what they're for. Even turning the amulets on by accident will hurt him, it's basically like torture for him.

Stanford doesn't tell anyone this, though. Because where's the fun in that? :3…

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When Will is killed and saved by the axolotl,

The theraprism gives him rewards for good behavior- said rewards is time on earth, he usually visits Gideon and Pacifica's dreams to say hi or update them n shit.

Alsso, once he's redeemed, he is totally sent back to earth for the gleeful and northwest family to make amends, but he just ends up staying there as a friend for Gideon and Pacifica :3 silly triangle friend !!! Also he gets little angel wings and a little tail

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Will has a 'human sona'(Term coined by TT's mod) that Preston drew before the betrayal.

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Will's ex is Preston. Will may or may not still love Preston...........

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Will leaves anonymous gifts outside of Bud's shack for Preston.

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Eculydian courting is getting odd rocks to give to who they are courting!!

To propose to/as a Eculydian, they usually carve a rock to look like the other, A mini handheld statue !!! (Or their zodiac symbol, wink wink nudge nudge)

Eculydians are also attracted to shiny things like gems and pretty rocks!

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vv Nicknames vv

Preston "Three eyes" Fiddleford "Bat" Stanley "Fishy" Pacifica "Llama", "Little Lamb" Gideon "Star" Mason "Little Dip" Melody "Question mark" Mabel "Comet" Stanford ". . ." Bud "Pine", "Cone", "Pinecone"

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Will is squishy. Don't ask.

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Will has shitty grammar and handwriting when trying to write in english. Or any other languages alphabet that isn't like his own.

[khaotickoins]

COULD U COIN AMORShARK FOR MY PARTNER :D I love my partner <3 I associate em vv sharks so yeee

[vampcubus]

Hi, same anon from before who sent the TikTok! I was truly kicking my feet and giggling like a lil maniac watching that Izuku edit 🤭🤭🤭

You and me are the same!! I got dragged back into my MHA hyperfixation 😭 Anyways, after seeing that catboy post of yours, I got inspired to write a bunny hybrid Izuku drabble instead, so here you go <3 I’m not sure I sent this to you already, or if I’m thinking of another person entirely but I hope you enjoy anyways??

— Roseberry anon (if it’s not already taken)

Drabble starts below vv

CW: Sub!Izuku, hybrid behavior, heat/ruts, breeding

Thinking of bunny hybrid Izuku who’s so shy around you, his new owner, for the first few days or so. Thinking about how his long ears stand on high alert, or twitch downwards when you come near him. So skittish, yet curious at the same time; his eyes never straying from your form when you walk around your apartment, in which you’ve been so kind to give him his own room, his own big, comfortable bed. And even though he’s a bit wary at first, he never fails to thank you for your kindness, his hands wringing themselves together as he endearingly thanks you for making him his favorite food, or giving him extra materials for his bedding.

And eventually, over the next couple of weeks, he warms up to you, becoming clingy, wanting to have his possessions scented by you, to be surrounded by you because you bring him comfort in every aspect of his life. He can’t help but to hop in place, a wide smile pushing dimples into his freckled cheeks as he excitedly welcomes you home. You giggle at his adorable actions, at the way his cotton ball tail is constantly twitching and wiggling. It’s this sight that causes you to reach out and touch the fluffy appendage, without much thought. And to your utmost delight, Izuku’s face goes bright red, his eyes becoming round as coins as his breath hitches cutely and his tail twitches once, twice in your hold. Testing the waters, you squeeze experimentally and Izuku lets out the most adorable whimper you’ve ever heard, one of his scarred hands shooting out to feebly grasp at your forearm. Though, it wasn’t to pull you away, but rather to encourage you, to ask for more of your delicious touch.

And after this, Izuku’s still so shy, except this time, he’s shy when asking for more of your touch, for your help during his painful ruts. Ruts that make him think only of you, your lips kissing him, and your fingers trailing down his heated body, all the way to his sensitive cock. It makes him delirious, makes him want to do anything you ask of him, if only you keep making him feel this damn good. In times like this, he doesn’t know whether he wants to breed you, or for you to breed him; his hips present themselves to you while he’s on all fours, his tail twitching sporadically and his ears flopped over to cover his burning cheeks as he pushes his ass back invitingly, mewling and crying out for you. It’s something you can never deny, something you always give in to, because how could you ever not? Especially when he looks back at you, his eyebrows tilted up in bliss, his mouth set in a cute pout as his hand reaches back towards you to once again set your fingers onto his fluffy tail, a breathy whine escaping him afterwards with tears beginning to dot along his lash line. Under your ownership, you take care of your cute bunny hybrid to the best of your abilities, and if he asks you to fuck him silly until the only thing he remembers is your name, then so be it. It’s a win-win scenario after all.

NONNIE YOU PUT YOUR WHOLE PUSSY INTO THIS. I'M SALIVATING!! MAKIN' ME WANNA WRITE FOR HIM AGAIN SO BAD. you know what you're doin' comin' in here and presenting such a meal as this, and with bunzuku no less! you're not slick 😤 (but i'm slick cus this is so hot) for shame! (please feed me more 🧎‍♀️)

curse you (thank you for your service 🙇‍♀️)

[ranahan]

Reduplication in Mando’a

Reduplication is fairly common amongst the world’s languages, though the Indo-European languages don’t do it so it may be unfamiliar to Europeans. What it means is simply repeating a part of the stem. Reduplication is a derivation just like any other, so it has predictable form (it’s not any random part that repeats) and meaning (just like other affixes share a general sense of how they modify the stem, so does reduplication—however, derivations can and often do veer off from the original sense considerably).

What reduplication in Mando’a looks like

Reduplication in Mando’a takes the form of a prefix:

1. In stems beginning with a consonant, the prefix is CV-

2. In stems beginning with a vowel, the prefix is VC-

Where C can be a consonant or a consonant cluster and V can be a vowel (short or long) or a diphthong. For example:

CV- reduplications:

sol > sosol

shuk > shu’shuk

briik > brii’briik

VC- reduplications:

ad > adade (adad-e, plural form)

The vowel in the prefix may dissimilate, like in other Mando’a affixes. For example: tug > ta’tugir.

CV(C) and VC are the most common syllable types, but there are a few roots/words that are VV (for example aai). There aren’t any canon examples of how to reduplicate those, but I’d hazard a guess that the prefix could be VV (e.g. *aai’aai, which is a bit long so maybe that would get chopped down to *ai’ai or something).

What reduplication in Mando’a means

Here Mando’a doesn’t do anything fancy—reduplication in Mando’a has two senses, which are cross-linguistically the most common ones amongst the world’s languages:

1. Iterative

Iterative reduplications are ones where the meaning itself is a repeating action or an increase in number.

For example:

ad, ‘child, person’ > adade, ‘personnel’ (a bit funny one, since it’s technically a double plural)

briik, ‘line’ > brii’briik, ‘grid’

*tug-, ‘again, repeat’ > ta’tugir, ‘repeat’

*sol-, ‘one, number’ > sosol, ‘equal’

buir, ‘parent’ > ba’buir, ‘grandparent’ (possibly, although this could also be bah-buir, cf. ba’vodu)

2. Intensive

Intensive reduplications are ones where the meaning is intensified, for example:

shuk, ‘rift, tear’ > shu’shuk, ‘disaster’

yai, ‘belly, womb’ > yai’yai, ‘richly nourishing’

Most reduplications in Mando’a are nouns, but sosol and yai’yai are adjectives, so both are possible. Reduplications themselves can then be used to derive other words, for example slap a verbal suffix -Vr on and you get a verb.

Bonus: non-canon reduplications

Here’s a few examples of how you can use reduplication to derive your own words:

*sen-, ‘fly (action)’ > sesen, ‘fly (an insect)’ (could have the sense of “lots of flying things”—when do they ever appear one by one?—or “to fly/flutter/buzz around repeatedly”)

rud, ‘around’ > rarud, ‘spiral, helix’

dul, ‘half’ > dadul, ‘quarter’ (can’t claim the glory for this one: it was first coined by Tal’jair, then tweaked by Tuuri, then further tweaked by me—I liked dadul over dudul, but tbh either would be fine)

shonar, ‘wave’ > sho’shonar, ‘surf, waves’ (could equally well be *shonare, or maybe even *sho’shon; I liked the repeating sound like waves beating the shore)

Post more in the comments/replies!

[talonabraxas]

“With the Wand createth He. With the Cup preserveth He. With the Dagger destroyeth He. With the Coin redeemeth He.” [Liber Magi vv. 7-10.]

[many-loops-later]

[Shadow seeking fate] Magi

Attributes: Infernal/Zero Gender: None (but usually uses masculine) Gate: Deva loka (Allegedly) Guild: Summoners, [Expunged] School: Shinjuku academy

__Research file 1__

"A transient is reportedly from Deva Loka, but his true origin and exact role remain unknown. He enjoys the freedom to make choices and watching others do the same. He appreciates those who encourage this way of thinking and dislikes those who believe there is only one correct choice."

Likes: Mononobe, Azathoth Liked by: Aegir Dislikes: Fuxi Disliked by: Horeku Kamui, Michael vv Extra Research file vv

[Heralder of the End] Magi

__Research file 2__

"The Sacred Artifact they wield is not one befitting of his true form, but its effect does, a coin that spins and can manipulate fate to be anything is something that represents a being made to represent chaos, destruction, and all things evil that can possibly come from it, he is someone who doesn't tend to be clear except to the one who is his Master."

[miraswebpage]

hello once again ia community DUMMYSONA DUMP!!! I've gotten a better grasp on the lore thanks to a youtube video I'll link in the keep reading tab! here's some doodles!

anyways below is just a info blurb on these dudes so have fun vv

v Here's that video!

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Now that that's out of the way, lets start with medic dummy!

Before I found out about Dr Combatant (did I spell that right lol) I was thinking "oh there's a Soldier Dummy,,, what if perhaps there was a Medic Dummy... woah!!!!!" And for the most part Medics core job of healing the remaining dummies after the uncertifed fight somewhere in the town uncertifed takes place in stayed the same but after learning about that I thought since dummies are all made up by Dr Combatant artificially in some sorta factory, things are bound to go wrong and traits of a dummy being produced can be skewed.

Then came the current iterations of Medic and Patient! They are two sides of a coin, complete and total opposites but somehow they get along well enough to be each other's only friend. Medic is extremely smart and Dr Combatant sent him out to maintain the army's health while Combatant works on creating new dummies. On the other hand Paitent was accidentally fused with a oneshot dummy, causing his overall health to be complete sliced in half, the bit of normal combat dummy giving him around 50 health. He's extremely physically weak because of this and Combatant didn't exactly want to kill him, Patient was sentient and had seemed to be on the side of "dummys shouldn't be abused on a regular by asylumers" so maybe he could be of use even for two minutes max. He did exactly that. After those two minutes he folded and Medic was luckily nearby and took him into care as soon as he could. From then on Paitent didn't participate, just watched from the side, up in his room or any other misc buildings.

He might be weak but his confidence and fighting spirit is very very prominent, enough to get himself in major trouble. Trouble that Medic always has to handle. Medic is already overworked, he doesn't even fight too often but there's so many injuries sustained when it comes to the uncertifed army that he works entire nights with no breaks. There wasn't any insanely smart dummies made yet aside from him. If anything hanging out with Paitent even if Paitent is actively getting treated for injuries and such is a break to him. Medic is a very stressed, exhausted guy.

Anyways really sloppy summary aside here's some fun facts.

- Paitents favorite food is white cheddar cheez it's

- Medic has willingly took a small bit of five hour energy

- Paitent, when sneaking off to fight uses any weapon he finds on the ground

- Medic sticks to using a switchblade if needed and always has a medkit on hand

- Medic is really fast, think Lampert regretevator fast but turned down a couple notches, he has to be quick when it comes to his job.

- Medic and Sir Combat have beef.

- On the contrary, Paitents mischievous nature works really well with Count Dracombat they just don't talk often.

- Bouncing off of that, Paitent is a day person early bird and enjoys warmer weather, Medic is a person that is indeed up! And he usually forgets what season it is and what time of day it is, usually he's too busy to care unless he needs to do something outside.

that's about it for tonight, this is really rough uh baiii