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#... Another Variant A Bow ...
bowbow-the-clown · 8 months
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⋆☆•☆⋆ i Am ᴙɘAbY To Tᴙiↄk Aᴎb TᴙɘAT⋆☆•☆⋆
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˙˙ ǝɯnʇsoƆ ʎW s,ǝɹǝH pu∀ ˙˙
.. ᗝᖇ Ꭵᔕ Ꭵ丅 ..
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cannolicorgi · 1 year
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tysm to the Kazuha and Bennett in co op that made my Diona do 53k charged attacks and tysm to Angel for switching characters that was so sweet of you and tysm Tighnari for returning your gear to it’s rightful owner and tysm Mika for not showing up so that I would get c0-c6 Diona ig and no I don’t have a video to show for it because I didn’t think to record it and when I did I fucking died
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demilypyro · 2 months
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MLP lore lesson: This male hourglass cutiemark pony. Most fans of the show will know him, but I think this lore might be funny to learn for people who weren't part of the fandom at the time.
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He was originally a generic townie that appeared in some episodes as a random passerby. The fandom decided he resembled David Tennant as The Doctor on Doctor Who, taking the hourglass cutiemark as a reference to time travel, and thus the fans named him Doctor Whooves. In fanworks, he was commonly paired up with "Derpy Hooves", another popular background pony, mirroring The Doctor's MO of traveling with a female companion.
Like many popular fan-interpretations of the background ponies, this fanon was eventually semi-canonized in copyright-safe ways in later seasons. They started giving him accessories that referenced different Doctors, such as David Tennant's tie and 3D glasses, Tom Baker's scarf, and Matt Smith's bow tie.
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Finally, in the season 5 episode Slice of Life, he was canonically referred to as "Doc" and "Doctor", as well as researching time travel alongside Derpy Hooves, as clear nods to the fandom.
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Though the character is usually referred to as "Time Turner" in official sources, there are at least a few instances of the character being officially referred to as "Doctor Whooves" or "Doctor Hooves", such as in figures and on a trading card. There is also a comic where he appears on a variant cover with multiple Doctor Who references, such as a Weeping Angel and a street lamp that resembles the Tardis.
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asterias-record-shop · 10 months
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BINGOO! Can you please write a Miguel O’Hara sugar daddy story with prompt 15? I’m not creative enough to write a description for this but could you add a mention of the age gap? Miguel is Like 30 or something. Reader is young and wants money ofc. They met online and are meeting up irl. Thank youu
—𓆩[mi menté, cuerpo, corazón, y alma]𓆪—
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I am so sorry anón honey, I got completely carried away!! I hope you enjoy it though!
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𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
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𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Modern AU! CEO! Sugar Daddy! Soft! Miguel O'Hara x Sugar Baby! Fem! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, angst
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.1K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You loved being a sugar baby. Truly, you did. The only con was the fact that you had to get with someone who was literally a hair away from dying, so when Miguel found you, it was truly a saving grace. After a while, he made you cut off all of your other sugar daddies, easily matching what they give you and more. Things have gotten weird lately, though… and you’re not sure how to take it, even when he says everything is ‘strictly pleasure’.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing and foul language || obsessive behavior || sugar daddy & sugar baby relationship || possessive! Miguel || his wife and daughter do not exist anymore 🤍 like at all || Latina coded reader || featuring Jessica Drew as another CEO because we love her (spider-verse variant) || sugar daddy & sugar baby relationship turned real relationship || i speak rancho spanish so i write rancho spanish, it ain’t google translate so it might not make sense- || miguel is lowkey an asshole so he is an asshole now || fighting || you make him fix himself || i’m ngl, i don’t know what the hell i did but i had fun and there’s smut so enjoy || this is so much more kinky than it initially was going to be- || kinda OOC Miguel || sub turned dom! reader || sub! Miguel || sounding || cbt || slight oral || praise & degradation || riding || non-protected sex || cumming inside || ending is supposed to be humorous I’m not weird ||
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Finding a sugar daddy that wasn’t quadruple your age was hard. Very, very hard. What was wrong with men? Couldn’t they just become billionaires at twenty-five?
Bastards.
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Oh, but then Miguel O’Hara came along. A man in his early thirties that absolutely towered over you at 6’9”, built like a fucking god with looks to match and wealth to pair.
In the beginning, though, you had your doubts, so many doubts. You didn’t know what made him drawn to you in the first place, mainly because you had over five sugar daddies and he easily matched the prices immediately and made you get rid of them. He easily matched all your prices, doing even more before purchasing a test to make sure you were ‘healthy’.
After that, everything else happened extremely quickly - him buying you a car, jewelry and clothes, but the most recent was having you move in with him in his extremely large mansion. The first thing you noticed was that he had nothing in his home that gave it personality. No pictures, just crazy expensive art and photographs of things that were also crazy expensive.
He didn’t even have plants. Or a dog. Or a cat, something to give him some sort of personality besides that stupidly hot face. And stupidly hot money, but that’s why he was at work while you were at a shelter, promising yourself that you’d take some sort of pet home. You had settled on a kitten, a tuxedo kitten with a little bow tie and a mustache, along with small little mittens on his paws.
He immediately curled in your lap, a giggle falling from your lips as you stroked the back of his head. “I’ll take this one… I’m gonna name him Hart.”
And with that, you took him home. You bought him his own bed and all of the toys he could ever want or need, and you sat in the closet you had made his room as you wagged the cat toy in front of him, Jessica on the phone.
“Y/N, I really think you’re going to kill him bringing that cat into his house!” She laughed, snacking on her latest craving.
“Oh, he won’t! You’re being overdramatic, he’s gonna love Hart,” you wiggle the stick some more, the kitten swatting at it as you heard Miguel’s loud voice yell out for you. “Oh! He’s here, I’ll call you later Jess! Love you!”
“Don’t get killed!”
You giggled as you hung up and quickly stood, running out and fixing your skirt. “Miguel!”
He was tired today, you could tell. His body was more tense than you had ever seen, the buttons at the top of his shirt undone and his tie loose with his blazer open. You paused, his clenched fists making you swallow slightly. You had your share of violent lovers, and you sure as hell weren’t going to have another.
“Hola, mi reina,” he whispered, voice hoarse as he set down his briefcase and his fists unclenched. He softly set his hand on your hip, kissing softly against your temple as he sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s been a tough day.”
You inhaled as he softly pressed kisses down your temple around your eye, along the apple of your cheek. “Wh-What happened?”
He shook his head, his hands going from your hips to the pretty skin of your thighs that was exposed by the skirt. “Stupid idiots who don’t know how to fucking do their job.”
You hummed softly as you stroked the back of his head, twirling the locks of his hair with your fingers as you kissed his sharp jaw. You were already on your tiptoes, his hands supporting you as he ducked down. “I’m so sorry, Miguel,” you whispered as he let out a soft hum. “I uhm… I got something.”
“Ah si?” he responded, his hands slipping under your skirt to tease your pretty cunt. “Es esto, mi reina?”
“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “Lemme show you.”
He smiled as you dragged him along, pulling him toward the closet you turned into the kitten’s room before turning around. “You can’t get mad.”
He started to cross his arms, raising a brow. “Why would I get mad?”
“You won’t be mad because you can’t. That’s my whole point,” you say, nodding firmly. “Okay?”
“You can’t say I can’t get mad and expect me not to get mad.”
“Oh, shut up!” You laughed, shaking your head as he hummed softly and leaned down. “Just… trust me.”
He hummed again as you opened the door, the loud mews of the kitten making his eyes widen. You felt your smile disappear as you inhaled, shaking your head as you turned around. “This is Hart! He’s a little spy,” you giggled, kissing the kitten’s small head. “H-He was named after-”
“I know who he’s named after, Y/N,” Miguel growled, glaring at the kitten in your hand. “Why is it in my house?”
“Our house,” you correct him, a scoff falling from his lips. “What?”
“My house,” he basically growled, stepping forward as you started to step back. “Just because I fuck you like a ragdoll and cum inside of you like a cumdump doesn’t mean that this is your house.”
You inhaled as you held the kitten closer to your chest, scoffing. “You’re a fucking bastard, Miguel O’Hara. This is strictly business as always, isn’t it? You fucking asshole.”
He scoffed as you went around him, shaking his head. “This is mine, Y/N! All of it!”
“It might be yours, Miguel, but you don’t want it! You keep this giant house full of nothing that you love, nothing that you care for! You don’t even have a damn plant here!” You yelled at him, inhaling as you sent him a glare. “You’re a self absorbed bastard, Miguel.”
“I have you here,” Miguel spoke, something that completely betrayed his previous words. “You’re… all I could ever need.”
“You don’t need me though. The only thing that you fucking need is a damn whore,” you shake your head, keeping Hart close to your chest. “I will get myself a lawyer to get myself out of this contract, and we’ll never have to see each other again.”
“Y/N, wait-”
“No! Fuck you!” You were already rushing to your room - which was sadly one you shared with Miguel - locking it before he could come in after you.
“Y/N, amor… mi amor, I’m sorry.”
“No you’re not!” You yelled, sighing. How could you ever think this would go any other way? “Just… go away!”
To be honest, you weren’t sure what made you think you could love him. Actually love him and have it reciprocated, but you didn’t want to leave. You had worked so hard in this relationship with Miguel, gaining his trust and what you thought was his love, for fucks sake you couldn’t lose it now. What he said just… got to you.
It wasn’t until you heard a soft knock that you unlocked the door, Miguel slowly stepping into the room. “What do you want?”
“I just… look at this,” he gave you the binder, swallowing. “If you uhm… look at it, it annuls our last contract… if you sign it, mi amor-”
“What, are you gonna try and bribe me?” I ask, softly scratching Hart’s ear before he gives you the binder.
“Perdóname, amor,” he whispers, slowly falling to his knees in front of you. You certainly weren’t expecting this. “Read it.”
“Summarize it for me.”
“It says that you own me,” he says, tilting his head. “Everything I own, you own. Everything I am is yours,” he takes your hand, softly kissing against your wrist. “I’m sorry… that it took me so long to see how important you are to me. Soy tuyo, mi mente, cuerpo, y alma.”
You swallow as you stare at the dotted line, looking down at him as he kisses your skin. “Tu cuerpo? Es mío?”
He groaned as your hand shapes his jaw, softly tugging on his hair as Hart jumped down, sauntering out of the room as though he knew what was about to happen. “Todo es tuyo, mi amor,” he whispers, groaning as you pull his hair so he’d stare up at you. “Todo lo que quieras, es tuyo. Nomás me digas y es tuyo. Todo, todo es tuyo.”
You hummed, sighing as you moved your hips to come off the bed slightly. “Show me. Show me that you belong to me and I’ll sign it.”
He hummed, sending you a smile as he started to kiss against your wrist. “Of course, mi reina.”
You smile slightly as he starts to tug off his shirt, carefully unbuttoning and kissing along your calf before slipping off your heels. “If this keeps going, Miguel, you need to know that I’m not putting up with your bullshit.”
“Ya se, mi reina,” he whispers, his tongue flattening up your thigh as he pulls down your skirt. “I’m aware.”
“I’m going to sign that shit in your cum.”
He laughed, nodding. “If that’s what you want to do, mi amor.”
You tilted your head down at him, raising a brow. “That raises no red flags?”
“No, they’re actually green.”
You hold back a laugh as he slowly stands up, already taking off his clothes before you put up a finger. “I’m in charge, right?”
“Yes,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “What would you like me to do, hm?”
“Get on the bed,” you say, standing and slipping off your clothes. “Why are you just standing there? Go.”
Miguel smirked slightly, but followed your orders, his bare body looking perfect against the bed. “Well, what do you want me to do next, mi amor?”
You hummed, staring for another few minutes. “Get hard. I’ll be back.”
You go into your closet, but after hearing Miguel’s moans, you knew he listened to what you said. It wasn’t until you went into your drawer filled with sex toys did you know what you wanted to do - oh, you were going to make him sob. You grabbed the small silver toy you had never had the chance to use on him, biting your lip as you finished taking off the rest of your clothes and fixing your bra and underwear.
It was normal to makeup with Miguel with sex, then talk about what happened and why it should never happen again before you fell asleep, resulting in Miguel waking you up with breakfast in bed and another lavish apology gift.
When you walked out, you smiled when you saw Miguel bucking his hips into his hand, his thick cock dribbling precum out of his bright red tip. “Look how pretty your cock is, baby… so, so pretty.”
He lets out a dry laugh, groaning. “Oh yeah? Que vas hacer?”
You giggled, slowly sliding between his legs and taking out the metal sounding rod. “Voy a jugar con lo que es mío.”
He lets out a choked moan as the cold tip of the rod dragged in a circle along the tip of his cock, already lubed up so you wouldn’t hurt him, a giggle escaping your lips as you slowly pushed it into his cock. He lets out a choked moan as you laugh, watching as it slowly disappears inside of his cock.
“Hijo de su pinche madre,” he cursed, groaning as he bucked his hips, stomach clenching as you watched his body slowly fall to your mercy. “Amor, please, please- I'll be good, I just need to fuck you.”
“Cállate,” you ordered, giggling as you pushed it inside until the ring was showing, your mouth latching onto his balls and sucking softly. “Come on, be a good boy and fuck it.”
He cursed as he starts to roll his hips, following the sounding rod as he groaned loudly. One of your hands rubs along his thighs, giggling as you stared up at his face all scrunched and desperate. He really did make a good sub.
“Come on, don’t stop now, Miguel, you’re doing so good,” you move away from his balls but continue to cup them, moving so that his fat cock was settled on his abdomen and you rubbed your now bare pussy against his shaft. “Come on baby, I know you want to cum. As soon as you cum, I’ll put your cock in me and I’ll let you fuck me.”
He groaned loudly, almost growl-like sounds falling from his lips as he forced his hips to go faster, fucking into the sounding rod as he rubbed against your wet cunt. You couldn’t hold back your own moans, the friction of his cock perfect against your cunt and he wasn’t even inside of you yet.
“Amor, please, please!” He was begging to cum, even if he didn’t quite know it yet, a groan falling from your lips as you continued to squeeze and rub his balls. He had never been this quick to cum, and you knew you’d have to try this again soon. “I’m close, chingao, I’m close.”
You let out a laugh as you watch the sounding rod start to be pushed out, pushing it back in as he whined. “Not yet, amor mío.”
“Por favor, mi vida, necesito- fuck!” He screamed out as you continued to hump against his length, pushing and pulling the rod in and out of his cock.
“Say it again. That you’re mine.”
“Fuck, I’m yours! Soy tuyo, mi mente, cuerpo, corazón, y alma, ¡chingada madre!” He yelled out as you finally let go of the sounding rod, watching it pop out of his cock and a perfect, pornographic cumshot follow. You moved your hand from his balls, lifting your hips as you continued to pump his shaft. You watched as the pearlescent liquid spurts onto his toned abdomen, smiling before cupping your hand in front of his tip and gathering his cum.
He panted, watching as you slowly smeared it along your cunt and placed the sounding rod onto the nightstand. “Next time we need to go bigger.”
“Whatever you say, amor,” he whispers, groaning as you pull his cock to push into your cunt, another loud groan falling from his lips. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“I know,” you spoke, laughing slightly as you gasped. No matter how many times his cock was inside of you, you never got used to it. “Fuck, Miguel, It’s like you get bigger every time.”
“Maybe I do,” he smirked, offering that playful wording as you finally sat on his pelvis, groaning loudly. “Look at how perfect you look with my cock inside of you, mi reina. Fucking perfect.”
You whimpered, groaning as you started to roll your hips, his cock feeling as though it was deeper than it ever was. “N-No, no.”
He smirked, tilting his head. “No what, amor? Tell me.”
“Stop that,” you order, knowing damn well if he kept talking like that you’d soon be on your back begging for him to fuck you. That’s now how it was going to happen, not today. “I’m in charge. Not you.”
“I never said you weren’t, amor-”
You leaned forward, pressing your lips firmly to his as he held your hips, helping you rock onto his cock. “Stop talking.”
He laughs as his other hand pulled you in for another firm kiss, your hands searching for the contract before his hips slam up into you. You pulled away, gasping as he lets out a loud groan, cursing. “Thought you needed some help, mi amor.”
Your hands claw against his shoulders as he keeps your chest pressed to his, using his strength to easily thrust up into you. For fucks sake, he couldn’t even let you have this, but you weren’t complaining as he grunted underneath you and you felt his cock rub against every place you ever wanted him to be. He repeatedly thrusted into you at that perfect rate to hit that spot inside of you that just made your body go limp, stomach twisting and turning.
One of the pros of having a man who knew your body like the back of his hand was that you could always count on him making you cum.
You gasped as his cock finally thrusted against that perfect spot that easily made you come undone, mind blurring as you basically see stars right as your nails dig into his skin. Your cunt clenched and squeezed his cock as a result of your orgasm, a hissed groan falling from his lips as he thrusted a few more times and finally came inside of you.
Your eyes rolled back, the added feeling of his cum spurting inside of you, filling you up as your inner thighs started to register slight heat from the power of his thrusts. You panted as you started to sit up, Miguel letting out a slight laugh before you grabbed the sounding rod and the contract.
“Q-Qué estás haciendo?”
You looked up at him, giggling as you dipped the rod into his cum. “I said I was going to sign it with your cum.”
“Mierda, Y/N, don’t do that!”
“What?! You think I was joking?! I said it was a red flag!”
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Thank all of you so much for supporting me!! Even though Bingo requests and Bingo itself is done, I have my next event already planned - please stay tuned!! Requests are closed but they will be open when I clear my inbox, and again, thank all of you so much!!
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© asterias-record-shop
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scarfgremlin · 3 months
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A very happy Valentines Day.
Have some Nova, from @venomous-qwille beautiful Ghost in the machine au, getting flowers.
It's such a delightful read! And while I am lacking a few chapters behind, seeing all the other art for it is certainly inspiring!
So! Nova! He's such a guy /aff
I'm putting the alt text under the cut bc it's kind of long.
[ID: a 15-second animatic of Nova from Qwilles Ghost in the machine au. Nova is a sun variant who wears a jacket. Underneath said jacket is a shirt with two pins on the right side. He has eight small spikes around his face and seven knife rays in between them. The animatic begins with Nova sitting on a couch, a smile on his face, staring into the distance before he blinks, and then proceeds to tilts his head to the side. His body slightly moved to the motion. It then cuts to a small person with big eyes and a small, blue bow tie on their chest, standing on a purple carpet. They look up at him and wave one arm, eyes glimmering and a slight blush on their cheeks while doing so. They soon after lower their hand, shyly looking to the side as they grab hold of their other arm, only to sneak another look at Nova. It cuts back to Nova, who looks at the small person, twinkling stars around his head before they disappear as he tilts his head in question to the side. A speaking bubble with a question mark appears to his left. Again, cutting back to the small person, they seem to startle, aware that they have his attention. Their lower arms halfway raised and hands in a tensed position. They promptly move their right arm to put their hand in a pocket at their right hip to search for something. Said pocket appears out of nowhere. Nova leans forward, curious as to what is going to happen next as he tilts his head to the right. Cut to the small person: they halt in their movement for a second, an exclamation mark popping up right next to them. Their eyes crinkle upward as they seem to have found what they were searching for. Red circles, a small blush, on their cheeks. They proceed to pull out a bouquet of various field flowers out of the pocket and hold it out toward him, eyes moving up to look at him in quiet anticipation. The flowers are a cropped photo of a real bouquet. It cuts to Nova, who has a redraw of the bouquet halfway shoved toward his face, eyes wide in surprise. His look softens, and his brows knit together as he pulls back, and the bouquet is lowered. He looks at the small person with a half grin, his right hand raised to take the flowers. He is looking at the small person while doing so. Cutting back to the small person, they have a bashful look on their face, hands behind their back as Nova takes the bouquet out of the frame. There is a small speaking bubble with a heart above their head. We cut back to Nova, who now holds the bouquet, that is significantly smaller in his hold, between his fingers. He looks down at it with an amused expression. On his right side, a bubble appears, featuring the small person holding a thumb up as sparkles surround their head. They are very pleased with themselves as they watch him./End ID]
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dduane · 3 months
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...Noodling around with some tests of lighting profiles in Daz Studio, while background-considering the gonna-happen-soon business of recovering the Tale of the Five trilogy for both Ebooks Direct and Amazon. ...This project's been hanging fire for a while, but there's no point in putting it off any longer, even though it'll be a lot of work. Cover styles have changed a lot in the last few years, so it's time these had covers that'll reflect that.
What this means for me is producing four sets of covers, all in different styles, so I can do A/B testing on them at the 'Zon. (Meaning that for four different week-long periods, you publish the books in each of the separate formats and see which two get the best results in terms of sales. Then you give each of the two winners another two-week period and see how those results behave.)
The guide to the various currently-popular cover styles I've been using is this one. (Which isn't a bad one at all; but since the people publishing this page want you to hire them for this kind of work, that's sort of to be expected). Numbers 1, 4 and 9 on their list are the ones that appeal to me or are appropriate. The others either strike me as bad choices for these books, or just annoy me. (#2 in particular. I've seen it well executed, but I've started getting kind of sick of seeing it.)
Meanwhile, for your amusement, here are my current sketches... just to disabuse you of any ideas that they look in any way professional at this point. :) Two versions of the minimalist/object oriented style, and one each of the 3D modeling and the double exposure/burnthrough variant. We'll see what comes out the other end of the process in a month or so. (In fact I may put up a poll here with one book in four versions, and see what the local readership thinks.)
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...Meanwhile as regards the topmost image (currently titled "This Is Not A Good Time"): I live in hope that someday I'll get Héalhra's damn mane under control. Daz's dForce utility is very good at handling some material textures and making them respond more like gravity had some actual effect on them. But in this case it's been like fighting ineffectively with a bad perm. (eyeroll) (Also, who here was it that put a pink Hello Kitty bow on him last time I posted an image of him fluffed up like this? It left me giggling for days and now I can't find it...) :)
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oftenwantedafton · 4 months
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Quiver - Steve Raglan/William Afton x Goth Female Reader
Rating - Explicit
a little fluffy office sex smut for Valentine’s Day
Also also available on AO3
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There’s no way you’ve been hired on merit alone.
Not looking like that, with your fishnet tights and short skirts and sheer blouses and dark makeup. Everything shaded ebony or a variant of it. It’s all so close to being on the verge of indecent while barely meeting the dress code requirements.
So Steve Raglan assumes this must have been a favor to someone. A relative of yours has an inside connection, getting you this part time job at the social services office for some extra cash while you manage your college courses. Another entry for your sparse resume to supplement your babysitting reference and that job at the coffee shop that you’d worked at the previous summer.
For some reason it’s you more often than not these days that guides the clients back to his office. He can hear the heavy tread of your Doc Martens all the way down the hall from the reception area. He smells your gum, sometimes, mixed berry or cinnamon. Watches the way you lazily blow a half hearted bubble, a thin stretch of the xylitol pushed between your white, white teeth against that dark crimson mouth. The hair you’d hastily pinned up is already coming undone. You’re wearing a choker today, the band of velvet drawing attention to the arch of your throat. The gum chewing is loud, sloppy, wet as you lead a nervous looking middle aged woman to his door. Everything so careless. There is no grace or delicacy here. You bend to retie the undone lace of one boot. The skirt is really much too short for that.
Steve clears his throat and struggles to focus on the individual seeking work across from him. There’s a rip in your tights today that’s driving him mad. Just below the hem of your skirt. In a sea of other openings in that daring weave of material he doesn’t know why that one haunts him so much. He imagines shoving his thumb through it, squeezing your thigh.
The image will not leave his mind and he spends his lunch break that day with the solid wood door to his office locked and the blinds on his solitary window overlooking the parking lot securely sealed before he fucks into his fist until he spills over his hand thinking about you bent over for him.
***
The winter drags on, but Raglan doesn’t mind it much. It’s a welcome precursor to the long, arid stretch of summer months ahead.
It’s nearly Valentine's Day. Red and pink decorations adorn the reception area. Cardboard cutouts of hearts and roses and cupids with bows and arrows, the quivers adorned with lace. Someone in the office always decorates for every holiday. It seems like a lot of effort for very little reward. He’s never been one for festivities or celebrating. He interacts with his coworkers as little as possible. It’s not that he’s not good with people; he could hardly do this profession if he wasn’t. He’s very good at reading people. He knows how to be polite and charming and charismatic. He knows how to feign empathy to extract the information he needs when he’s placing these applicants, sifting past the drama and the sob stories to determine what their qualifications are. He’s not interested in excuses, only outcomes. That’s why his wall is covered in accolades acknowledging his accomplishments and achievements. He’s run out of room for them now. There are several still sitting unframed in one of his desk drawers.
So it’s not a lack of skill that drives a wedge between himself and other people; more like a lack of interest. Most people aren’t worth investing time in. You, though. You’ve certainly caught his attention. And he’s caught you staring more than once, lingering at his door when you have no reason to. He thinks you might be developing a little crush. A small smile here, a flutter of lashes there. There’s something there, dormant, waiting.
The middle aged career counselor has never been anything but polite to you. And you’ve been, well, yourself. So the weeks have passed and there’s been no advancement of any type, no progress in your relationship, workplace or otherwise. You still are the main attraction of his fantasies when he needs to rub one out. It’s shifted from a sporadic event to more of a daily one. He really needs to do something decisive about this one way or another.
So there’s this silly holiday now. A plethora of gift choices. A box of chocolates is what he decides on. Traditional. A classic. Heart shaped box. He’d arrived at the office before anyone else. A card with your name printed on it in capital letters. It doesn’t even remotely resemble his typical cursive. He sets the box beside the keyboard you sit at. It feels like baiting a trap.
Probably because that’s exactly what he’s doing.
***
The morning progresses like any other. You lead the clients in, one after the other. You’re wearing the ripped fishnets today. There’s a crushed red velvet cami beneath the sheer black blouse. Your nails are black with little red hearts on them.
A client has cancelled last minute. You’ve come to inform him. One of the other women who works in reception calls out to you as she passes by. “Did you find out who they’re from yet?” You shake your head. There’s a silver heart dripping from the black lace choker at your throat that swings with the movement.
“What’s that?” So casually inquired. He turns in his swivel chair slightly.
You shake your head again. Your cheeks flush. You’ve already told him about the client cancelling. Something that could have been done over the phone. Yet you’re still hovering by the open door.
“Someone left me a box of chocolates. No one recognizes the writing on the card.”
“You have a secret admirer then? How romantic.” His teeth flash in a grin.
“You don’t…you don’t know who’s written this, do you?” You walk to the desk. You smell like jasmine today. The card is tucked into the waistband of the skirt. No pockets. You hand it to the seated man. It’s warm from the heat of your body. It makes him want to do terrible things to you.
“Hmmm.” He hums thoughtfully. There’s still a smile struggling to break free again, his lips twitching. He’s enjoying this. Seeing you so disarmed. All of that clomping around in your heavy boots and shrouding yourself in your dark colors won’t shield you from him. He’ll access the young woman beneath all of that. “I might.”
“Really?” You reach for the card. He taps the edge against his lips and your fingers drop uncertainly. That rent in your tights makes his mouth water. You’re so close to him. Probably the closest you’ve ever stood.
“Supposing,” he begins, “since I now have a half hour free and it’s nearly lunch time, you take your break now and we discuss it?”
You stare at him. He lifts his brows, waiting for a response.
“Okay,” you murmur.
The trap closes, the bait taken.
***
Steve waits patiently while you go inform the office manager you’ll be taking your lunch now.
Once again you’re hesitating at his office threshold, as if halted by some invisible forcefield.
“Shut it behind you, please.” A click as it draws closed. The career counselor stands and walks towards it, turning the lock.
He sees you swallow, the choker straining against your throat. He’s much taller than you; taller than most people. He looks down and you look up and it matches the images he’s created when he thinks of you on your knees in front of him.
You lick your painted lips. “So, you think you know who it is?” Still trying to be casual. To make it seem like this is anything other than what it is about to become.
“I don’t think. I know.” The amusement is gone from his features. His pale eyes are going dark, the pupils expanding with desire.
“Oh. I thought you said…” Your voice trails off when his hand sits against the side of your neck, tucked beneath your hair. He pushes you and you easily stumble against the door.
“Have you really no idea?”
Your lips are parted. Wicked ruby against the pure white. Temptation. He hears you breathing more rapidly. Lets his fingers thread up into the hair at the back of your head to pull your face upwards. A gasp.
“Well? I’m waiting for your answer.”
“It’s you…”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know you…we’ve barely spoken.”
“Not using words, maybe.” He inhales and exhales deeply. “Would you like to try some more of that…nonverbal communication?”
You nod against the hand still holding you.
His mouth presses against yours. He does not bother with gentle kisses or a soft introduction of lips. There is no time for that and he has waited long enough for this moment. His tongue spears your lips and he tastes you for the first time. You’ve snuck one of the chocolates he’d gifted recently. Bittersweet dark and cherry cordial. You moan against his mouth. He presses his body into yours, so you can feel what you do to him. How crazy you make him.
Steve abruptly pulls away, clutching one of your hands and dragging you towards the desk. He sinks back into the chair and tossed his glasses on the desk before be finally surrenders to what he’s wanted to do for so long, pushing a thumb inside that inviting gape in your hosiery. His other hand disappears under your slit maxi skirt, wedging between your thighs, eliciting another whimper.
“Normally I am all for foreplay and drawing things out, but today is simply not going to be one of those days since we’re both on the clock, as it were.” Both hands now clutch the waistband of your tights and panties and he drags them down roughly until they rest rumpled somewhere around your knees. He thinks he’s made a least one new rent in those tights; at the very least made the previous opening even wider. Pretty soon they will be too indecent to wear in public at all. “Bend over,” he rasps, and you obey, resting your upper body on his desk. The wheels of the chair roll across the plastic mat shielding the carpet and he runs a hand over the curve of each cheek appreciatively. “Stance a little broader,” he urges, fingers dipping between your thighs to stroke along your sex. Another soft moan as your spread your legs further apart. His thumbs dig into your flesh as he separates your cheeks and drives his tongue inside of you.
The noise of pleasure that escapes is anything but soft this time and you clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle it. Steve pauses for a few heartbeats to see if anyone will come knocking. Apparently satisfied this is not the case, he begins eating you out in earnest. He loved eating pussy and yours is a particularly delicious specimen. He can still taste the remnants of soap from your shower that morning. Your own flavor, musky yet feminine. He could happily spend the half hour just like this, but he wants to fuck you and that’s exactly what he does next, standing up and unfastening his belt. Fly opened quickly and his cock pulled free. Rests it against one cheek. Breathing ragged. He makes sure you’re still muffling your voice before he eases into you. There’s a lot to take. You’re not going to be able to keep quiet.
As predicted you whine. The brace of fingers over your lips have slipped a bit. “So fucking tight. I love this wet pussy.” He pushes a little further. Another keen. “You can take it.” The hand curled around your hip tightens. A final shove. “There you go. Good girl.” A snug fit around his cock. Sheer bliss. He withdraws and thrusts back inside, your body jerking across the desk. Steve’s sweating already, teeth gritted. It has been far, far too long since he’s been bottomed out in some hot cunt like yours. No more test runs. He begins fucking into you roughly. Shoves the hem of his dress shirt impatiently out of the way so he can watch his cock saw in and out of you. He wishes he was recording this. You looked so fucking good bent over his desk. The little mewling, keening noises you’re making are driving him insane. “You like that, huh? Answer me you little slut,” he growls.
“Yes,” you gasp.
“You’ve been teasing me for months now with those ripped tights and short skirts. Stomping around like a fucking whore.” He settles both hands on your hips and drags you back onto his prick as his hips snap forward. A sobbing sound somewhere between pain and pleasure. He’s being rough. He really doesn’t care. His fingers dig deep enough to leave bruises as he continues to pummel you. His eyes dart to the clock. The time is passing far too rapidly. He debates about filling up your womb right then. So tempted to breed you. But then there’s your mouth. Yes, that’s where he wants to dump his load today.
He pulls out and slumps back in the chair behind him. Sees you straighten gingerly. Sore already. You’re really going to feel that come morning. “Kneel down.”
The tights and panties are still gathered in a tangled bunch around your knees. He has to help you get into position. Your mascara has smeared. The carefully painted lips are smudged. They’re about to get even messier. His fingers knot in your hair, guiding your mouth to his cock. He heaves a sigh. Your mouth is as perfect as your pussy. He feels your lips stretching to take him in. Another tight, wet hole for him to squeeze into. But you’re still so tentative. He’s going to have to assist you.
Steve forces your head to remain still while he shoves himself against the border of your throat. You gurgle and choke and gag as he unrelentingly batters you several more times before being merciful enough to let you slide back off of him, coughing and gasping for air. Fresh runs of mascara stain your cheeks where the tears have leaked anew from the strain. Your nails dig into his thighs when your head bobs over him again. He lets you control the pace a bit, watching your lips and tongue work over the head and shaft. “Look at me.” Your eyes meet his. He grabs your head and greets the back of your throat again. “That’s it. Take that big cock down your throat. You love it, don’t you?” You whimper, attempting to answer.
He drags his saliva coated dick free and you struggle for more air. “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue. Keep looking at me.” He sets the flushed tip against your moist pink tongue. Wraps his fingers around the shaft and strokes, pushing down on the muscular organ that’s cradling the head of his cock. Your eyes are locked with his. His breathing is labored. So close. His eyes narrow as he frowns. A moan tears loose and he shoots a stream of cum inside your mouth. You blink and struggle but he’s got you pinned in place. A few more creamy sprays paint your mouth. He wipes the edge of his cock off on your bottom lip. “Swallow every drop of that.” He jerks your head back a bit. You close your mouth and swallow, wincing over the taste. “Let me see.” You stick your tongue out again. Clean. “Good girl.”
The bearded man relaxes his grip in your hair. His eyes flick to the clock again. Made it with five minutes to spare. Just enough time for you to put yourself back together and wash up in the bathroom across the hall.
He helps you stand, easily pulling you to your feet. Clothes are shifted back into place. The tights are not as ruined as he’d anticipated. He’ll have to work on them some more another time. You depart his office without comment. He wipes his brow and sits back down at the desk. The card is still lying there, beside his glasses.
The workday continues. You usher in more clients. He finds them job placements. The office closes for the day.
Steve waits for you outside, leaning against your car—black, like everything else you own. He’s watched you from the window of his office exiting and entering it so he’s certain it belongs to you. His arms are folded. He sees your steps slow as you catch sight of him.
“I thought,” he begins. There are roses resting on the windshield. Dark purple. “We might have dinner together.”
You draw even with him.
“I don’t like to be rushed. It’s not how I do things.”
You nod, glancing at the flowers adorning your vehicle. The heart shaped box is clutched to your chest.
“Or would you like to continue where we left off?” He pushes off the car and leans against you, pinning you in place, your body resting crushed lightly between the steel and the social worker’s long, lean frame.
“Do I have to choose only one of those options?”
A smile. “Not at all.”
“Both,” you decide.
The grin widens. “Both it is. Happy Valentine’s Day.” He bends to kiss you.
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year
Note
Hello hello! I just read your writings about Pokémon and it inspired me to make a request if that's okay!
May I request some fic with Raihan and Reader who has a team of, like, really intimidating Pokémon? But they are actually are big softies? Just a happy lil' Scolipede with a little bow munching some berries! Or even Slither Wing that crawls towards the toys like a kitten, pheh-
That's okay if you decline! Take your time, I can wait ^^
Have a good day/night!
-✒️ Anon
"C'mon, Rai! I have some friends from Paldea who are dying to meet you!"
"Oh are they, huh?" Raihan raised an eyebrow, exchanging a brief glance with his Duraludon. But they both did their best to keep up with you as you rushed to your campsite, excited.
For the first time since he's met you, he was finally going to see your main Pokémon team. You briefly mentioned having some from Paldea, but a few were from this region, as well as Kalos. Based on your history of winning lots of tournaments, Raihan could only assume you had a lot of very strong Pokémon with diverse typing to help you adapt to any situation.
You haven't battled anybody in Galar yet, so he wasn't sure what to expect. He was looking forward to today.
Upon arriving to the camp, however, he's....quite surprised.
All of your Pokémon were ones notorious for being highly aggressive and intimidating, but he quickly realized how tranquil and pacifist each of them seemed. They weren't sparring nor scowling at one another.
If anything, they acted sort of...cute?
He spotted a large Scolipede, the archnemesis of all Centiskortches...happily snacking on berries with a tiny Sizzlipede resting on their back, sharing the bowl. And amusingly enough, Raihan could see you adorned the vicious poison/bug's horn with a cute little bow, which it didn't seem to mind at all.
Then he saw a Volcarona...except it looked a lot fluffier and was crawling on all fours, its wings folded upwards like some sail. Not to mention it looked gigantic, as though it belonged to the same ancient time period as Tyrantrum and all the other fossil Pokémon.
"Is that some kind of Paldean variant?" The dragon tamer pointed to the Volcarona lookalike.
"Oh! Well..yes and no. That's my darling Slither Wing, a supposed ancestor of Volcaronas. They look scary, but they're sweet on the inside. Just watch this." Smiling, you took out the feather toy and shook it around, the tiny jingling bells making Slither Wing turn their attention to you.
With a happy chitter, they scampered over to you, before standing up on their hindlegs and towering over both you and Raihan. He jumped back with a small shriek, throwing his hands up in front of him.
"Woah what the-?!! Back up, buddy!!"
Sensing its trainer's distress, Duraludon hissed at the potential challenger.
Yet Slither Wing seemed blissfully unaware of the threat they posed, their focus being fully on the feather dangling in front of them. They gently batted it with their front paws, delighted at the jingling noise the bells made.
"Sorry." You laughed a little, feeding them a berry before setting the toy down. "They get excited easily." Then you rested a hand on their fluffy chest, to which they flopped to the ground, allowing you to rub their belly. "Awwh, who's a good Slither Wing? It's you~!"
Raihan blinked several times, awkwardly putting his hands back down as he stared at you, watching you baby this fierce-looking Volcarona. He would've thought you were talking to a Yamper or Growlithe.
Looking elsewhere, he saw a Pokémon who appeared similar to a Bisharp, except it was bulkier, resembled a samurai, and was....somehow sitting on its own hair???
Upon closer examination he could see it had some flowers in said hair, put there by the cutesy wild fairy and grass Pokémon that have gathered around it. It seemed to be telling them a story, smiling all the while...which was very unlike the serious Bisharp lineage.
You noticed where Raihan was looking and smiled, whistling for Kingambit. It glanced over and headed to you, being able to move without standing up at all.
"King?"
"Your majesty." You stood and bowed to it in respect, before turning to your friend. "Rai, this is Bisharp's final evolution, Kingambit He had to best three other Bisharps wearing leader's crests in order to evolve, so he's pretty strong."
"It took beating three?" He raised an eyebrow. "That's pretty specific. How didja figure that one out?"
"....well how did you figure out how to evolve a Galarian Yamask into Runerigus?"
"...touché." He clicked his tongue, before glancing at Kingambit again, who seemed to be admiring the flowers in its hair. Then he slowly took out his rotomphone to snap a picture of it--
"Gamb.."
Tensing, Raihan saw the dark/steel type glaring daggers into his soul, and he gulped, nervously put his phone back into his pocket. "M-My bad..uh...I just...."
However, Kingambit's menacing look suddenly vanished, replaced with a cheeky smile as it chuckled. And only then did the dragon tamer realize the fairy and grass Pokémon were gathered nearby, giggling as well.
"Awh, did King scare the "almighty Dragon Tamer"?" You teased, seeing how flustered he was getting.
"What? Of course not! What are you talking about?" He quickly shook his head, offering you a sharp-toothed grin of reassurance. "I don't fear anything!"
"..Tyran!"
Raihan turned his head to see a Tyranitar stomping on over to you, wearing a mega bracelet similar to yours. He recalled you mentioning that you've mastered Mega Evolution.
But of all the Pokémon to choose from, it just had to be his ace's number one natural rival??? He'd hate to see how that would go down on a battlefield..
'Mega Tyranitar against G-Maxed Duraludon...sounds like a good movie title..' He mused, before snapping out of his thoughts and sighing, watching you coo over the dark/rock type--just like you did Slither Wing.
His concerned looks caught your attention, as you just huffed in growing annoyance, cradling Tyranitar's head in your arms. "Rai, relax. My friends here don't have a single mean bone in their bodies."
"I find that hard to believe. Plus my Duraludon hates Tyranitars...isn't that right......?"
However, he trailed off upon realizing that his trusty Duraludon was no longer by his side, instead hobbling over to greet your Tyranitar. "Du....Duraludon?" He blinked stupidly.
"Tar!!"
"Ludon!!!"
Raihan could only gawk as the two gently butted heads, amazed that they weren't at each other's throats. Instead, Tyranitar encouraged it to come play with the bouncy ball near the curry pot, and the steel/dragon followed them without hesitation.
Soon enough, Scolipede, Slither Wing, and Kingambit went to join the fun, leaving the dragon tamer utterly speechless as he realized his initial assumptions about your team were wrong. "Wow...."
"Yeah." Laughing softly, you patted his back as he stood there, shoulders still slumped. "So do you believe me now?"
"...I do. I'll never doubt you again."
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whirlybirbs · 1 month
Note
the variant time files make me crazy. they make me insane.
DOSSIER #201
R.V.A CASE LL-4.1 & DX-4.1 | ENGLAND, 1813
You swear he will be the death of you.
It's an unconditionally hot summer — but that doesn't stop the men from gathering on the front lawn of the manor for a good game of rugby in the late afternoon sun.
Beside Jane and Darcy under the pergola, you bury your face into your fan.
Mr. Loki has forgone his jacket — there's rivets of sweat running down the long, strong stretch of his neck and chest. His sleeves have been rolled up, and you inhale tightly as you watch him laugh at something Thor says and back peddles down the greenery. He's all legs. Tall, sharp, and handsome.
And sweating.
Good lord.
You reach for a glass of lemonade. The condensation bites at your fingertips. You feel a bead of sweat run down your back.
Even here, in the shade, it's hot.
Blame the view.
Jane and Darcy are no better. The conversation died a while ago when the jackets and shirts were tossed to the grass in favor of denoting teams.
When the match finally ends, you try your best to fan yourself and resume your reading. Jane and Darcy decide the heat isn't worth suffering any longer.
Loki has other plans.
He's still a bit out of breath when he approaches the covered tea-table. His smile is boyish — a rarity.
"I hope you enjoyed the sport."
You drag your eyes across him. "Seemed rough."
Loki squints into the sun, his hands perched on narrow hips. He perches one leg up on the second step, and leans. He looks relaxed. Truly a sight you try to remember. He must have noticed.
"I believe we're headed to the pond for a swim," he says, turning to eye Thor back over his shoulder, "Should be back in time for dinner."
His curls are sticking to the back of his neck. You can see the muscles of his back through the thin linen of his shirt.
You clear your throat. "Do enjoy."
"I'd offer another view," he says slowly and with enough coy to kill, "But, I fear that may not be entirely decent for a lady of your standing."
You nearly choke on your water.
"Must you tease?"
His laugh is gentle. "It's in my nature, Doctor."
"Yes, well," you mutter as you stand, "Enjoy the swim."
You gather your book, and turn — but before you can step down, there's a hand offered to you. Loki looks softer and less like the man whom you'd had such a dire rivalry with during the spring. Summer has brought different feelings, it seems.
You take his hand and ignore the burn of your skin on his.
He helps you down the steps, then gives a small, courteous bow.
"Perhaps... Chess, after dinner?" he calls, after you return the bow and begin down the path.
"That is a view I'd adore, Loki."
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revengemicrowave · 1 year
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So continues my attempt to not be aaaaapanic by actually posting stuff haha and feed the Lukadrien tag, my true motive
Another older doodle when I was still figuring out Luka's hair, from Zombie!AU I have all the ideas but no time to do the comic for. Ahh, the endless struggle...
Premise (completely spoiled lol) under the cut. tw: body horror, parasites/bugs, usual zombie stuff, talk of mercy killing a bitten
On a particularly warm day in April, a sudden outbreak sweeps through Paris. People turn wildly aggressive, biting and killing others - who then get back up to do the same hours later. The dead are controlled by a parasite that pupates and hatches from the face of it's host into a stunning, shimmering purple moth. It's wings extend over the face, like when Shadowmoth controls the akumas.
When the host makes a kill, the moth detaches to lay eggs in the new body and die, leaving a shambling biter with other larvae (potentially) still to hatch. However, rarely some stay in rooted to the host brain and become more intelligent, more dangerous zombie variants (like the really mushroomy clickers in Last of Us).
Luka gets seperated from Juleka and Rose on a supply run into the city, the Liberty a safe haven on the water with a small community of other boats. Has a chance run in with Adrien's group when Adrien saves him from one of the first of the more dangerous variants. Everyone is strangers in this AU, besides Luka, Juleka and Rose (and Anarka!), and Adrien, Alya, Nino and Marinette. There are other survivors, but small main group. In the group, Kagami carries a bow and insists she doesn't view the infected as human anymore. Marinette is their medic, Nino is the defender and they're trying to find Alya (who is with Chloe, driving eachother insane). I was also considering Weyham or Max or someone, make it more of a mixed group. Luka is a very reluctant zombie slayer, which is what nearly gets him killed when he first meets Adrien. He has an axe because I'm hilarious. Juleka carries a baseball bat with nails and Rose a can of mace and bugspray (which ends up being suprisingly effective). Rose the alchemist surprise-making a flamethrower, please. So, Luka joins Adrien's group and tells them there's a safe place on the Liberty, but they need to get to it and signal from shore without drawing attention. Because of the cluster of survivors on the river, the banks of the Seine are swarming with zombies, but the moths won't go in the water.
A sneak-through a building goes wrong and Luka gets bit. Marinette patches him up despite his protest about using the supplies, because he 'still shouldn't be in pain'. Kagami reminds them what a bite means, but finally softens when he jokingly tells her to look after the kids (they bond as the two most emotionally mature). The group have to say goodbye, and still in denial and shock, Adrien offers to be the one to 'take care of it'.
At first, it's assumed the bite is what turns you, as no moths have hatched and the first people killed turned after 18-24hrs. Adrien has to come to terms with leaving the guy he's falling in love with in a locked room to turn into a monster, or put him out of his misery.
But Luka doesn't turn (come on as if I'd turn favourite bluebell into a zombie and do that to Adrien) and over summer the hoardes thin as the bodies start to rot. They just need to make it to winter.
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Welcome Bienvenue, Rollo.
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{January 30th to February 2nd}
Please read the Birthday Blog Takeover Submission Rules. Yes, I’m reviving this from 2020-2021 just to honor Roro—
Something was amiss.
Of that, Rollo was certain.
The air at Noble Bell College had been strained all day, pulled taut like the tightened strings on a violin. Every so often, those strings would be plucked, sending a wave of tension rippling through the campus and setting his bones shaking. There were whispers passed, quick glimpses made, stifled laughs shared between his aide and vice president.
But the instant he so much as cocked his head in the direction of the guilty parties, they would nervously retreat out of sight. Alas, no chance for a proper chiding--nor to divulge their secret.
What do I care of their matters? Rollo scoffed, dismissing the idea of pursuing them. He made his way down the hallway and to the student council's quarters. So long as it does not interfere with my duties or cause a commotion, there is no reason for me to step in. Leave fools to their foolishness.
Rollo swung the door open and stared into an abyss. The fireplace that normally warmed the space had been extinguished, leaving the room blanketed in darkness.
He sighed, running a hand along the wall. His fingers met the light switch and flipped it, light flooding his field of view.
Students, his aide and vice president among them, sprung out from behind furniture. Gargoyles swooped down from the ceiling. Each grinned and chorused, "SURPRISE!!"
Pop, pop, pop!! Crackling, colorful confetti rained down, settling on Rollo's robes and inside of the large brim of his headwear.
He blinked, dazed as the students descended on him. One offered a party hat, another ferried a platter of petit fours, and several more bore wrapped boxes topped with bows. Excited chatter on all sides, eager eyes in every direction.
"... What is this fanfare?" Rollo demanded warily.
"It's your birthday, Mister President!" his aide beamed. "Don't tell us you forgot."
"It isn't that I forgot," Rollo massaged his temples. His growing frown was difficult to conceal with a single folded square of cloth. "It's that I had plans to tend to some important documents today. This is... an unprecedented turn of events."
"You're always working so hard for Noble Bell College and your peers, putting work before yourself," his vice president said.
"We've never seen you have fun your birthday once in all the time we've known you," a gargoyle added.
The aide nodded. "That's why we decided to throw this special celebration in your honor! Let us handle your duties for the day while you relax with your friends.”
"No, I couldn't possibly allow for you to..." Rollo's voice trailed off as realization set in. "Wait one moment. When you say 'friends', who exactly are you referring to?"
“Oh, we were in correspondence with them to prepare for the party,” explained the vice president. “They should be joining us soon. It’s just a short trip for them through the mirror.”
Through the mirror? His gut wrenched with dread. No, it can’t be…! Not possible!!
“Flamme.”
He turned at the voice calling his name, looking as though he had seen a ghost.
Faintness overcame him, and the handkerchief which he reverently clasped to his face fluttered to the ground. Rollo’s face was a show of open shock. “Y-You…!!”
There, in the doorway, was a gaggle of boys in black uniforms edged with golden trim. A band in various colors and a unique emblem was proudly displayed on every left arm. Seven variants, seven dorms.
At the front of the pack was a horned man dripping in black.
They're here. He's here.
Searing bile rose in Rollo's throat.
The villains of Night Raven College. They've returned to torment me.
The horned man's lips pulled back, revealing blinding, knife-like incisors. His voice was a rumble that could shake the mountains. "It is a pleasure to see you again."
Rollo knitted his fingers together tightly, his knuckles going bone white. "Malleus Draconia and company. How kind of you to pay a visit to the City of Flowers."
"Well, it is an important acquaintance's day of birth." Malleus extended an arm to him. His smile was mocking, twisted at the corners. "It is good manners to come and greet the blessed boy."
Rollo snorted, careful to not let his expression sink into a too-obvious sneer--not in front of his classmates. "You will have to excuse me. I don't recall granting you such information."
"Ah, that," Malleus chuckled darkly. "One could say... a little bird told me. Excitable creatures, those. I do believe she is in attendance as well--likely lost in this sea of guests. Do remember to give your gratitude for organizing this get-together, for now you have no need to fear being alone on this momentous occasion."
That Malleus Draconis, he's patronizing me!! Rollo snarled internally. Bells played a resounding war ballad in his head. Were his rage any greater, steam would be pouring out of his ears. How dare he...
Before he could get a word in, his aide and vice president excitedly flanked him.
"Isn't this great, Mister President?" the vice president asked, heartily smacking Rollo on the shoulder. "All your friends gathered in one place to celebrate you and your achievements."
"We worked really hard to put this together," the aide chimed in. "We hope you enjoy it."
"This is our thanks to you!" A line of gargoyles bounced up and down--perhaps the most animated he had ever witnessed the slabs of stone. "Happy birthday, Rollo!"
The words shriveled in his mouth.
He took one look at his fellow student council members. Their jubilant, shining faces met him. He looked at the waiting Noble Bell College students behind them, and then the Night Raven College students walling off his only route of escape. They wore smirks in varying shades. And the dancing gargoyles.
Rollo was caught like a mouse in a trap.
A monstrous roar ripped through the room. "Let's get this party started!!"
"Yes, quite..." Rollo muttered unenthusiastically. He was easily drowned out by his overjoyed classmates.
Rollo glowered to himself as he bent to retrieve his fallen handkerchief. His harsh glare burned a hole in the floor.
The man's carefully crafted schedule, interrupted. Peace and quiet, shattered. His worst enemies in his sanctuary. And he, tiredly relenting and resigning to it all.
What am I going to do with these charlatans...?!
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omaano · 1 year
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Last one for @bobadinweek's bingo - A Gravity Falls AU for my FREE square! I'll make a whole post to sum up all my contribution to this bingo a bit later (I made 10 artworks for this event in the past year omg!) - but I'm really pleased to end it with this one - just look at how cute they are as babies! There are some musing about this AU (and another variant) under the cut if you're interested ;)
I'll admit that I don't actually know much about Omega (aside from how she appeared in some fics and what I saw of her on this site), but I already felt bad enough for taking her bow and giving it to Boba (if it's up to Grogu he won't be able to keep hold of it for long, lol), so I felt it best to let her keep her hat and give her the journal. She seems more like the type to pour over it, while Boba just jumps headfirst into any and every kind of adventure. (Also imagine Boba with a pig-sized mini rancor. He'd lose a limb to it, but he would also LOVE it!)
I know that it's usually headcanon'd that Din and Boba are about the same-ish age (with usually Boba coming out a year-or-two older), but for the sake of fun here let Din hit puberty and his growth spurt a bit earlier and be just a bit older, and let Boba have his gay little awakening that summer.
(Just imagine that episode where Dipper makes multiple copies of himself (I know the roles don't track perfectly, shush!) to try and ask Wendy out for that dance/date at the party - and make it Boba trying his very awkward best [insert clone joke here], and, say, put an equally teenage Cobb in Robbie's place, except Cobb turns out to be cool, and now Boba is in all kinds of trouble, and surrounded by too many cute boys wow (but Din is still the cutest with his weird frog-eating baby troll). This idea's kept me entertained through the struggles of trying to keep track of my lineart and flat colour layers with the background here lol.)
ALTERNATIVELY I also entertained the idea of Boba and Fennec running a con mystery shack because they try to lie low for some crimes and not get caught (they are just the ideal type of chaotic-dumb-but-secretly-competent combo, who would play super dumb about any supernatural shenanigans going on while casually leaning against a rancor under a way too small sheet in the corner); and Din is the handy man helping out around the shack, trying to cover for his weird slightly green son who should not be allowed near frogs or you will see something you can never unsee after, and baby Rey, Finn and Poe could be the ones to get into all kinds of supernatural trouble (with Hux as Pacifica, and Kylo/Ben as Lil Gideon lol that would even work with Han and Boba having an archnemeses kind of situation going on). Plus Boba has an endless supply of lost competent twins so...
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miyuhpapayuh · 1 year
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one.
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Wandering around the indoor greenhouse, littered with different variants of flowers, Zora stops in front of the Japanese camellias.
“Wow... absolutely beautiful.” She admires them, before picking up a wrapped bunch and bringing them to her nose.
“Hm. No scent. Interesting.” She places them in her basket, continuing to move about.
Little did she know, she’d caught the eye of a man. A fine one at that, and he was on the move.
Sliding up beside her at a respectful distance, he clears his throat quietly before speaking.
“Excuse me,” he starts as she whips her head in his direction, looking at him over her glasses, very pleased with what she was looking up at.
“Yes?” The depth in her voice makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
“Wow, I forgot how to speak for a second there,” he says, making her laugh and subtly adjust her glasses, getting a better look at his handsome face.
“You’re absolutely stunning. Floated through here like an angel.”
“Aren’t you a smooth talker,”
“Just stating the facts, beautiful.”
“Smooth talker got a name?” She asks.
“Leon.” He holds his hand out for her to shake and she obliges, pleased with his firm grip.
“Zora.”
Her hands were smooth like cocoa butter, his formal grip on her lingering for a second longer.
“Nice to meet you, Leon.” She says, smirking once their hands finally detached.
“Pleasure's all mine, miss Zora.”
He flashes her a smile that takes her breath away, and inevitably makes her return the gesture.
Gathering herself, she looks down at the lavender flowers in his hand and back up at his handsome face.
“Aster, how pretty.”
His brow raises, making her smirk return.
“You like these too?”
“Yeah, they're actually one of my favorites!,” she laughs. 
“Who else has such good taste, if you don't mind me asking.”
“My mama sends me down here almost every other week for these and petunias,” he answers.
“Aw, how sweet is that.”
“I love my mama,” he cheeses, “what about you?”
“Oh, I just came to see if they'd taken my advice about rotating out some bunches for the season, and I lucked out with these!” She exclaims, pointing to the camellias in front of her.
“What kind are these?”
“Japanese camellias. Aren't they beautiful?”
He smiles, glancing between her and the flowers.
“Absolutely.”
She meets his gaze again, blushing behind her purple frames.
“I hope you don't have a girlfriend, the way you keep lookin’ at me. Cause I'd hate to break the news to ‘er.”
He lets out a hearty chuckle, shaking his head.
“Of course not! I'm as single as they come.”
“Mm, so you say.”
“I look like trouble?”
“With a big ol red bow on ya, mmhm.” She teases, earning another laugh.
“Damn, that hurts.”
“Oh, you'll live!” She laughs, looking back toward all the pretty colors the flower comes in.
“Get the pink ones, you keep eyein’ them.”
Refraining from gazing back up at him, she clutches a pink and purple bunch in hand.
“Alright, I think I'm done here.”
“Would it be cheesy if I asked for your number?” He asks, and she's right back to gazing at him.
“Cheddar,” she burns, with a smile and holds her hand out.
He hands the device over, watching her tap across the screen and hand it back.
“If you call too late, I won't answer.”
“No worries, beautiful.”
She hums a laugh as they head towards the register to check out.
He offers to walk her to her car since the sun is beginning to set, and she obliges, lingering a moment to catch the dip in his walk.
“Since you declined my offer to buy your flowers, how about a date instead?” He asks, once they get to her pretty yellow bug of a Volkswagen. Her prized possession.
She smiles before she can stop herself, already giving him his answer but he was patient in hearing it from her.
“Okay,” she answers, getting to see that award winning smile again.
“Maybe you're a good time outside the flower shop, too.”
He's not the only smooth one.
“That's guaranteed.”
“Good to know,” she unlocks her door, “goodnight, Leon.”
“Goodnight, Zora.”
I hope y'all enjoy!
Ch 2
@thegifstories @twistedcharismaaa @cecereads209 @nayaxwrites @blackerthings @blackpinup22 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @soufcakmistress @sheabuttahwrites @blowmymbackout @mauvecherie-writes @unfriendlyblkhotti3 @abeautifulmindexposed @awerkofart @neewrites @essaysbyciara
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empydoc · 9 days
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SOUL EATER AU avior & starlight
check out the masterpost here!
welcome to a redacted soul eater au post! here, i try and discover what it'd be like if you merged the soul eater world and mechanics within the redactedverse. this is the thirteenth post in the series! we've got avior & starlight on the menu today. enjoy!
note: if you haven't finished sovereign state's first series, there's some spoilers in here.
༺♰༻
avior — soul type: demon weapon weapon type: bow & arrow variants (dominantly, longbow) compatible with: starlight
as mentioned before, demons that're weapons are always demon weapons. this means their form can change at will, but usually within a specific sort of weapon type. with avior, he can change his form between different bow & arrow types.
avior's soul is bigger than the typical soul because of his demon status, but he specifically tries to make it appear smaller because of the fact that he doesn't enjoy being percieved as 'powerful'.
avior and starlight are another case of being easily compatible with one-another, however because of the strain that the whole meridian situation put them through, it takes a while for them to get to the point of confidently being a weapon-meister pair. even then, they don't utilise it much if at all, namely because there hasn't been a time where they could necessarily do so.
༺♰༻
starlight —  soul type: meister strongest meister ability: soul resonance - a technique where special attacks are made when resonating with their weapon's soul. compatible with: avior
since freelancers have flexibility with their abilities, they're often very easy to match wavelengths with. even so, that doesn't stop emotional strain from hindering such. starlight's experience in the meridian makes their connection with avior a bit complicated, in which their soul matches and breaks off of avior several times.
starlight is the type of meister to have had a few weapon partners in the past but never truly connected with them. their connection to avior upon their first time within the meridian was a gradual learning curve of getting to know someone in faux close proximity, but the second time confused their soul so much that they already felt connected to him even though they'd 'never met him before'.
something i wanna nail in is that starlight, with their second time in the meridian, has conflicting feelings. not only is their soul telling them something that they don't believe, but they can see avior's soul and the way that it is also doing the same thing. i like to think they bring this up a few times and avior shuts it down in an attempt to not get too close. that doesn't last long though.
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lite backstory: for every post i make for the characters, i'll add some au backstory to really fill in some details you may be curious about!
"You said you 'suppress' your soul. Why?"
"You focus so much on words I don't even give a second thought, Starlight." Avior massages his temple slightly before giving a curious gaze towards them. They look back at him with a genuine look, and he can't help but roll his eyes and comply.
"As it's understood, humans don't tend to enjoy the overpowering wavelength of a demon that's taking up space," his voice is softer than usual- not that Starlight hasn't noticed before-, "If I can control it to the point where it's bearable for you, then I will."
"For me?"
"It was a general statement," he lies, "Don't think too much about it."
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hunn1e-bunn1e · 9 months
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Barbatos - "In Your Care"
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•
Short!
So I've been really sick for the past week and I'm feeling like sh¡t. My throat is very swollen and sore so I can only eat things like warm soup, jello and pudding. I've been wanting to write everybody's asks but I have this raging migraine that flares up every time I look at my screen. So here's this little oneshot of you being taken care of by Barbatos that I've steadily written over several days. — A very sick Benny🐰
                                                                                                   
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🧻•♡•💊•♡•🧻•♡•💊•♡•🧻•♡•💊•♡•🧻•♡•💊
You groaned as you buried your face deeper into the pillows that littered your bed; your body curled up into a tight ball. The pounding in your head still hadn't stopped even after taking an asprin; it was like your skull was caving in. Your eyes trail to the door as you shakily sit up; wiping your running nose with a kleenex that was sat on your bedside table.
"Barbatooooosss."
You whine; your scratchy and hoarse voice making you sound akin to the howling of an injured animal; the ache in your muscles forcing you to lower yourself back onto your mattress.
You had been sick with the Devildom variant of a cold for the past few days; leaving you bed practically bedridden. The Devildom was an extreme place for a human to reside, so of course illnesses are just as intense. Luckily for a poor, fragile human like you, you have a wonderful demon lover to take care of you.
The door opens quietly, yet still makes you flinch due to your now heightened sense of pain, and in steps Barbatos carrying a tray of tea and soup. He gives you a sympathetic smile as he approaches your bedside; quickly casting a silencing spell before he moves. Gentle chartreuse eyes watch as you twitch an squirm in pain when he gently sets the trey on the bedside table.
"Oh, My Darling. You poor little thing. Don't worry, I'll bring you back to peak health, My Dear."
Barbatos coos as he gently strokes your damp forehead; leaning forward to press a kiss to your temple soon after.
Turning to the side table; the royal steward picks up the bowl of soup and turns back to you. You get into a sitting position and maneuver the pillows behind you so you can lean back onto them. He gives youa loving smile as he lifts the soup filled spoon to your lips; feeding you carefully. You can't decern what flavor it is due to the loss of you taste and smell, but it's warm and a bit thick.
The two of you sat there in a comfortable silence for a while; as the bowl emptied so too did the time pass. Eventually Barbatos stood and gave you an apologetic smile; giving you another kiss on you forehead.
"I apologize, My Love, I must go and see to his highness. You need only to relax; I will return to you in due time."
The chartreuse eyed man bowed politely before turning and quietly exiting your room.
Even if he was busy watching over the prince of the devildom he still made time to take care of you, and really wasn't much more you could ask for.
☕•♡•🍲•♡•☕•♡•🍲•♡•☕•♡•🍲•♡•☕•♡•🍲
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•
Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!
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dreamerwitches · 2 months
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Witch doppels part 2
Of course for Gisela she was going to be a motorbike for the magi to ride on. Go one was good but... not enough... glad I gave it a second go. I opted to make the bike more like Dora so that Gisela could be incorporated elsewhere. Instead of a helmet from the first go, Gisela is more like a visor. I added a spine and rib part cause I'm a slut for that but it will be metal to suit with Gisela. In hindsight, I think I'd like to do another version of her. This will be the rust version and I'll do a clean version as a variant.
Elsa Maria was a little hard to make interesting cause she's so simple... I much prefer go two. The first is just a little boring to me even though it suits Elsa Maria. I thought having Elsie as the magi's shadow is still in line with her theme. The skirt is cute at bordering the magi and I think the addition of her crest would be super fun.
Can you tell I was happy with Uhrmann straight away lol. I think she looks great already, no need for a second go haha. She's a centaur with her mouth and fur around the waist. She has matching bows on her tail and around the magi's neck. The only bit that isn't perfect is the doll on her tail. Wasn't totally sure with what to do with her aaa. But otherwise very happy.
I'd kinda got into the groove now so the doppels didn't need second goes. For Izabel I was happy with the base but did two ideas for behind the magi. The arc version is probably what it should be buuuuuttt I really like the Birth of Venus Izabel. I would choose go one but I think go two would be the actual in-game choice
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