#I need to draw the chapel sometime.

[moonsun2010]

Oh Jonathan...

#my art #dracula #dracula daily #jonathan harker #gosh the imagery of jonathan exploring and climbing the window and chapel etc #I need to draw the chapel sometime. #i rmb reading a post abt how dracula is becoming jon and jon dravula loss of self etc #here jon is imitating dracula too im yelling. man when he thought of mina first AND last before he thinks he might die. what a couple #ngl with the focus on the mountain range this feels more romantic than gothic but like i cannot tell if theyre mutually exclusive or subset

[vaathnaos]

Hello! Here’s a completly random landscape i was making this week-end. It’s loosely inspired by some rock cropings i live close to! I learned a lot from painting the clouds and grass and i want to make more background in the future! The colors are a bit wonky still but i think this looks decent value-wise.

#not shifting sands #my art #vaati digital art #background #landscape #digital art #krita #kritaart #digital painting #beginner artist #i live close to a rock quarry and it looks awful but it does make for some cool and expressive landscapes #i need to draw more of the scenery from here it looks so magical sometimes #we have a cool chapel built into a cave #and there are a bunch of huge holesin some cliff faces

[lipglossanon]

December Winds

.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜

Priest!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

dedicated to you 💀 anon! 💜 I hope you like it!

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, religious connotations, Leon POV, dirty talk, nipple teasing, oral (m & f receiving), rimming (m receiving 🫣), unprotected sex, creampie, kissing, biting, slight blood

kinda beta read by my friend Rex 💜 (only like 80% so any mistakes are my own 😅 )

title from December Winds by Nox Arcana

.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜

After Spain, Leon quits. As he tells the president, “I’ve seen enough.” And he meant it. He packs up everything, quietly bids goodbye to the few coworkers he respects and leaves out from Washington DC, praying he’ll never see the place again. 

He searches for a job that’s a little less stressful and a lot more reclusive. He stumbles across an online ad looking for a live-in priest for a small rundown chapel buried in the middle of the Appalachian mountains. A quick search on google maps yields the exact results he’s hoping for—there’s nothing around for miles and miles. 

It’s a cinch to get ordained online and even easier to order the cassock and Roman collar. He already has plenty of black shirts, pants, and even shoes, meaning it’s no sweat at all for him to look the part by the end of the week. 

When he arrives at the small church, there’s a handful of elderly people gathered to give him a short walk through the place. They leave him with plenty of homemade food as well as their phone numbers for the cracked rotary phone in the office in case he needs any help.

The months roll by and slowly bleeds into a couple of years. He always sees the same handful of people at service, sometimes joined by visiting family members, but always a small congregation which is what he prefers. This year hasn’t been any different, that is until a knock rings out in the empty vestibule drawing him up short as he lays out pamphlets for next week's Christmas service. 

Pulling open the heavy oak doors, he’s surprised to see a new face. You stand there shivering in the cold, jacketed arms clutching your middle. 

“H-hi,” you give him a bright smile despite your chattering teeth, “m-my car’s s-s-stuck in the s-snow and—“

Before you can finish, Leon’s opening the door wider, feeling chill bumps race across his arms as the cold winter air gusts past you and into the church. 

“Please, come in,” he steps back so you’ll follow. 

Once inside, he shuts and bolts the door closed. 

“I’m s-so glad someone’s here,” you laugh.

Leon watches you, expression stoic even though internally he’s cataloging every single thing about you with heavy interest. 

He sees your smile tremble a little, your own gaze roving his face. 

“I’m s-sorry to bother you,” you rub your hands together for warmth, “if I c-could just make a call, I’ll b-be out of your hair in n-no time.”

You pull your cellphone out with a frown, “I h-haven’t had service in miles.”

Leon glances down at your hands before looking back up into your face, nervousness radiating from your body language. 

He turns, talking loud enough for you to hear as you follow behind him, “Phone’s in the office. If you can’t reach anyone, I have a number to a local mechanic who can help tow you out.”

“Thank you so much,” your voice sounds relieved, “I hate bothering you, but I really appreciate the help.”

“Of course, it’s what I’m here for.”

He glances back over his shoulder and sees your gaze wandering around the church, taking in the clean if rough hewn pews and stained glass windows. Your eyes cut to his quickly as if you sensed him watching, giving him a shy smile. 

“You have a beautiful church, Mister?”

“Father Kennedy,” he answers, voice a little rougher than intended as you bite your lip in embarrassment.

“Sorry, not really up on my religion,” you laugh a little bashfully, “it’s nice to meet you, Father Kennedy.”

“Likewise,” Leon turns his attention to opening the office door, gesturing for you to enter first. 

His eyes slide down your body, taking in your curves, and shaking away the urge to sink his teeth into your soft neck. You walk over to the old rotary phone, something Leon never updated as it still works just fine. 

“Oh wow, my grandma had one of these!” you grin at him, “it’s so cute that you kept it for your office.”

That dark urge to bite you flares up in his chest again but he shoves it down. He nods at you instead of saying anything and you turn back to the phone. 

Picking up the handset, you frown and click on the dial a few times before setting it back down on the cradle. 

“Seems like your phone’s out,” you bite your lip again, looking agitated. 

Leon shrugs, “Tends to happen this time of year. No telling when it’ll start working again.”

You nod along and blow out a breath, “Okay, we’ll I’ll head back to the car and see if I can—“

“Stay the night.”

That pulls you up short and he wants to laugh at the wide eyed look you give him. 

“Stay here and we can try the phone again. If it doesn’t work, I can walk you to the nearest neighbor and try their phone.”

A soft smile crosses your face and Leon’s hit with an avalanche of impure want purring in his chest. 

“Are you sure it’s no trouble? I mean I’d really appreciate it, but I don’t wanna put you out.”

“No trouble, besides I’m here to help those in need,” a crooked grin slips out, “and you seem to fit that description.”

Another shy bite of your lip has him shifting his feet, willing himself not to do anything to you. 

“Okay then,” you give him the brightest smile yet, “thank you, Father Kennedy. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

A sudden flash of you thanking him on your knees floods his thoughts and he turns away from you, adjusting his half hard cock through his slacks, never more grateful to wear all black than now. 

“Follow me please,” he calls out to you, listening as you quickly walk to catch up. 

He also listens as you introduce yourself and explain as to why you’re out here in the first place, basically boiling it down to visiting some family for the holidays. Nodding along, he guides you into his living quarters which just happens to be a bedroom big enough to house a bed and a desk with a few bookshelves. 

“It’s so cozy,” you gush, running your hand along some of the handmade quilts and crocheted throws the church parishioners have given him over the years. 

“It’s home,” he states simply, moving to the fireplace and stoking the embers into a flame. 

“I’m kinda impressed,” you say as you hang up your jacket near the door, “it’s really rare to see someone so young as a priest in these kinds of communities.”

When he only gives you a deadpan expression, you begin to flounder. 

“Oh I mean, I grew up near here and so I’m just used to like older— you know what, I just feel like I’m digging a hole for myself,” you drag your palms across your eyes, “it’s just different is all. And either way I'm happy to have met you.”

Leon finally lets his lips quirk up into a half smile, amused at your reactions. 

“I understand, it’s just funny to see you try to explain it,” he moves away from the fireplace and grabs a change of clothes, ignoring how your cute pout is making him feel. 

“There’s a bathroom just through that door,” he points to his right, your left, “I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in jeans. There’s also some spare toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet.”

He watches as you get flustered when taking the simple sweats and cotton t-shirt. 

“Oh yeah, thanks,” you duck your head trying to hide your face and disappear behind the bathroom door to change. 

Leon lets out a long breath, trying to ease the tension building up in his chest. The wanting seems to only be getting worse the more time he’s spending with you. It’s like he’s a teenager seeing a skin magazine for the first time. 

Has he really been out here that long without seeing a pretty little thing like you? He’s in the midst of his thoughts while removing his collar and unbuttoning his cassock when he hears a soft squeak. 

He turns to see your eyes shut tight, hands clenching your bundled up clothes to your chest.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to!”

Leon frowns before looking down to see his bare chest offset by his rosary. Heat washes through him to see you peek again and bite down on your lip hard as you turn away. 

“I honestly was on autopilot,” he murmurs, voice rough making him clear his throat, “apologies, I’ll go change in the bathroom while you get settled.”

You gasp as he brushes past you to enter the bathroom. Grabbing onto the sink, Leon stares at his own blown pupils in the mirror. 

Get it together. It’s just a woman. A sweet woman. A pretty woman who probably has an equally pretty little cunt—

Shaking his head to clear it, he finishes dressing for bed. As he brushes his teeth, his eyes wander and notice the toothbrush you used sitting off to the side. A sudden flash of possessiveness surprises him leading him to quickly finish up and make his way back into the bedroom. 

You startle, standing up from sitting at the edge of the bed. 

Hands wringing together, you smile nervously, “Uh I-I wasn’t sure where to sleep? Like I can take the floor—“

He’s shaking his head already interrupting you, “We’ll share the bed. It gets extremely cold at night and it wouldn’t be safe to sleep on the floor.”

You frown over at the bed and look back at him apprehensively, “I can just use the quilts to make a pallet in front of the fire.”

“Please,” he gestures to the bed, “there’s no central heating and it gets deathly cold some nights. Even with the fire, I’d be afraid you would get frostbite.”

“I’ll sleep against the wall,” he softens his voice, “we’ll put pillows between us if you’d like and you can have the edge.”

He watches you bite on that damn lower lip again, wanting it between his own teeth. 

Nodding, your eyes seek out his again, “Okay. And we’ll try again first thing in the morning?”

“Of course,” he agrees easily, “I tend to wake early so I can check and wake you if need be.”

Your features melt from concern to thankful, “That’s very sweet of you, Father.”

A hot pulse of arousal makes his dick twitch but Leon ignores it in favor of offering you a slight smile. 

“Of course. Shall we?” he nods at the bed. 

You climb in after him, settling down under the layers of blankets and quilts. 

“I definitely never would’ve guessed I’d start my vacation by sharing a bed with a priest,” you giggle to yourself. 

“Unusual to say the least,” he dryly replies, sea dark eyes watching as you turn on your side, back facing him. 

You hum softly, shoulders twitching under the shirt and legs swishing under the covers. 

“Good night, Father Kennedy,” your soft voice has him gripping the blanket tightly. 

“Goodnight.”

It’s driving Leon up the wall with how badly he wants to reach out and touch you. Settling a little more, he listens as your breathing evens out and finds his own eyes slipping shut. 

Later in the night, he wakes up to your tossing and turning, feeling you press your ass back against him. He stifles a groan, eyes adjusting to the low light from the fireplace. You keep fidgeting, accidentally rubbing against his chubbed cock until he’s thickening in his sweats. His heavy hand reaches down and grabs you hip, stilling your movement. 

“Sorry,” your sleepily mumble, “‘m trying to get comfy.”

He dips his head down to ghost his lips across the shell of your ear, feeling you shiver, “Doesn’t seem that way to me.”

He rocks forward, letting his bulge rub against your ass; you whine and press back against him harder. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I promise I didn’t mean to.”

“Sorry, huh?” he dips his tongue into your ear making you whimper, “are you asking for forgiveness?”

His hand grasps your hip and pulls you into a slow rhythm of grinding back against his stiff cock. 

“Oh,” you mewl as he kisses the shell of your ear, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not how you ask,” he chuckles, kissing down your neck, “you know better than that.”

You moan as he bites down on the soft skin that’s been tempting him all this time. 

“Forgive me, Father Kennedy,” you break the rhythm and grind back against him harder, “I’m so sorry I’m being so bad. God, can’t believe I’m dry humping a priest.”

A smack lands on your ass making you jump. 

“We don’t take the Lord's name in vain either,” his low voice slips into your ear, “for that, you get those cute little nipples pinched.”

As you moan, he rolls you over onto your back, slipping an arm around your shoulders so both of his hands can knead and grope at your breasts. 

“Pull your shirt up,” he murmurs in your ear, “be a good girl for me.”

You shove the t-shirt up to pool around your neck, hands settling back down to twist in the sheets. His fingers quickly move to circle and pinch your hard nipples. 

“Oh, ohhh,” your eyes squeeze shut as he teases and rubs your hard buds, “Father, please.”

He bites your neck again making you writhe and press your breasts up into his hands. 

“Please,” you whimper, eyes glimmering at him in the firelight, bottom lip swollen from your own teeth. 

“Who knew such a tempting sinful girl would end up in my church much less my own bed,” he rumbles in your ear, grinding against your hip as he teases your nipples. 

“Father Kennedy,” you swipe a soft, pink tongue against your lips, making his teeth ache, “shouldn’t we stop?”

“Do you want to stop?” he kisses your jaw, fingers tweaking your nipples sharply making you moan high in your throat. 

“No, no, please, it’s so—you’re so hot,” you whine, hips squirming for friction under the blankets, “please, Father, want you so bad.”

“It’s a sin to tempt a priest,” he trails his lips across your neck to suck another mark into your skin, “you’ll have to repent.”

“H-how?” your eyes flutter, trying valiantly to stay open. 

He pulls away with a smirk, “You’ll have to use your body in service to the Lord.”

A keening whimper escapes your lips, hands shakily reaching up to run through his sandy blonde hair. 

“I-I’ll do anything,” you scratch your nails along his scalp making him groan, “just show me how I need to repent, Father Kennedy.”

He pulls his arm out from under you so he can climb on top of you, settling in between your thighs. Your hands pull his hair as he sucks a hard nipple into his hot mouth. He ruts against the mattress as he suckles each hard bud, nipping at the soft skin of your breasts and leaving marks everywhere. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve had a pair of tits in my face,” his voice is low, smoky, and he can feel your legs try to press together only stopped by his bulky body.

He takes his time, kissing the areola before running his tongue over your nipple, letting his teeth softly bite down before sucking it further into his mouth. Your hips buck up against his chest as he lays on top of you. He can feel how wet you’ve gotten already, the soft press of your panties against his skin leaving behind a sticky mess. 

He pulls back to look up into your dazed eyes, “Let me taste that wet pussy.”

You moan, hands tensing in his hair, “Y-you want to?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t,” he grins, “besides I wanna clean up that messy cunt with my tongue before you get slick all over my sheets.”

He scoots down, dragging his lips across your tummy and dropping kisses as he goes. 

“We’ll keep the blankets pulled up so you don’t get cold,” he murmurs as he bites your hip bone before soothing it with his tongue. 

You give him a shaky nod, “Okay, Father.”

He bucks his hips at that, feeling his cock leak in his sweats. He feels as you tug the blankets up and when he looks back up he can barely see your face making this seem so illicit and dirty it’s getting him even harder. 

He quickly eases your panties down your legs and tosses them on the outside of the blankets before settling between your legs again. Leon lets his instructive thoughts win and bites bruise after bruise into the dough of your thighs, sucking and worrying the skin until you're squirming against his mouth.  

He bites his way up to the crease of your thigh then lets his tongue trail across your skin until he’s lapping at your swollen clit. He hears as you moan loudly, thighs falling open wider as he hungrily licks into your cunt. 

“You taste like sin,” he groans as he pulls back to spread your pussy open, “so fucking good.”

Pressing his face tightly against your slick coated lips, he flutters his tongue into your soaked hole and grinds his nose against your bundle of nerves. He slips his tongue in and out of your hole before licking back up to your throbbing clit, softly kissing the sensitive bud again and again until sucking it gently into his mouth. 

Sweat beads around his hairline as it grows warmer underneath the layers of covers. Leon mouths at your sloppy cunt until you’re moaning loudly as slick coats his chin and lower jaw. Once your thighs start to tremble, he pulls away and crawls back up your body. The cooler air of the room kissing his sweaty skin as your hands scrabble against his shoulders. 

“‘M so close,” you whimper as you tug him into a messy kiss, “wanna cum, please Father.” 

He clicks his tongue, “You have to work hard for forgiveness,” he presses his thumb down against your chin making your lips part. 

“Maybe we should try filling that mouth up first,” he murmurs, watching as your eyes droop. 

You nod, running your hands down his broad chest, “Please, wanna see you, too.”

Surprise crosses his features, but he schools it into a crooked smile, “Aren’t you sweet? Take your shirt off for me while I get undressed.”

In no time, he’s kneeling between your parted thighs, completely nude save for the rosary around his neck. When he goes to slip it off, your hand snaps around his wrist.

He watches as the embarrassment wars with arousal as you ask him to keep wearing it. His dick throbs and kicks against his thigh and your eyes go lidded as they take in his thick cock.

“Allow me to show you how sorry I am, Father,” you scratch your nails across his chest all the way down his toned stomach to a happy trail that leads to the thatch of hair above his cock. 

Goosebumps travel across his skin when you rub across his hips bones, breath ghosting across the drippy head of his dick. 

Your tongue lathes over the slit, circling his tip and teasing under his foreskin before you pull back. 

That shy look steals over your face, “Can you sit here?”

You pat the gap in the pillows in front of the headboard. Leon’s lips quirk in amusement and shifts to sit with his back to the headboard and legs splayed out across the bed. You move to kneel in between his thighs, eyes greedily taking in his stiff cock. 

He watches as you lean forward, one hand coming up to grip the base of his cock as the other rests on his thigh, and slowly sucks the head of his dick into your mouth. Your eyes shutter with a moan as you take more and more of his cock into your mouth until you choke. 

Pulling off with a gasp, your watery eyes blink open staying on his as you sink back down on his cock. His abdomen tenses and he grabs the back of your neck with his broad palm to guide your head. 

“No need to rush,” his eyes track your tongue as you lick and kiss all along his dripping slit.

“You taste so good,” you moan as you lick your way down to his balls. 

Leon keeps his gaze on you as your wet mouth sucks his balls into your mouth, whining when you can’t fit both at the same time. You smear your face against the spit slick skin of his squishy sac as you nuzzle and suck his taint.  

“Oh, good girl,” he parts his legs wider so your mouth can reach him easier. 

Your glazed eyes slide shut when you slip your tongue down further to ghost across his asshole. Tongue drifting lazily against it, Leon grunts when you finally lick into him. 

“Such an eager girl,” he rasps as you softly eat him out, tongue eagerly rimming his hole. 

You sloppily makeout with his hole as his cock weeps precum everywhere; his own heavy hands keep your face buried between his cheeks. 

When you finally pull back, your chin’s coated with spit. 

“Suck my cock a little more and I’ll fill up that needy cunt,” he pulls your swollen mouth to the weeping head. 

Whining, you easily follow along and let his thick cock sink back into your mouth. He luxuriates in the feeling, the feeling of your hot hungry mouth slurping loudly around his dick. You moan and whine around him, rubbing your thighs together for friction. He smirks to see you acting so needy, so obedient in servicing him. 

“Up,” he murmurs, grabbing your neck and pulling you off of his cock.

Your hands reach out to dig into his pecs, framing the rosary between your hands as you straddle his lap, his cock snugly pressing against your pussy. 

“Oh, Father, please,” you grind down on his wet cock, dragging slick along his throbbing length until your clit’s bumping his tip. 

“Poor little lamb,” his hands grab your hips, letting you rock against him. 

With the grip he has on your hips, he easily manhandles you onto your back, kneeling between your spread legs, cock leaking all over your wet cunt.  

“Oh god,” you mewl, scratching at his chest. 

He spanks your clit with his fat cock. 

“What did I say about taking the Lord’s name in vain?”

Your pupils swallow any color left in your eyes, “‘m sorry, daddy. I don’t mean to be bad.”

“Fuck,” he growls, slapping your cunt with his cock over and over to make your hips jump, “are you misbehaving on purpose?”

Head shaking no, you wrap your legs around his waist, “No, I didn’t mean— it just slipped out. I‘m sorry, Father Kennedy.”

He nudges the tip of his cock into your hole, making you keen and rock down. The pressure around just the head makes him want to be rougher, meaner with you.

He grins smugly down at you, “You just can’t help it, can you? The wetter this pussy gets the dumber you are, right? What a slut.”

You whine, the heels of your bare feet digging into the back of his legs, goading him to slide deeper into your cunt. 

“Yes, I’m your slut, Father,” your hands tug on his rosary making him groan and fuck his dick into your spasming cunt. 

His heavy weight drops over your body, earning another low whine followed by your nails scoring a hot trail across his shoulders. He shudders, enjoying that small bite of pain as your eyes roll back in your head, pussy sucking him in even deeper somehow. 

“Pretty cunt just needed me buried balls deep in her, huh?” he groans as he pulls out just to sink back into your pussy, “so tight.”

“W-wait,” your voice goes high with sudden realization, “I thought p-priests were banned f-from having sex,” you gasp out, stuttering through Leon’s thrusts. 

“Baby,” he coos condescendingly, “you don’t think I was some silly little virgin, did you?”

He boxes you in even more, dropping down on his forearms that rest on each side of your head. 

“But I gotta say, you’ve got the best pussy I’ve ever fucked,” he kisses your mouth, “so wet,” he drops another kiss to your lips, “and tight,” and another kiss ending with a rough bite of your bottom lip, “this kitty’s been purring for my dick all night.”

Your head thrashes against the pillow at his words, “Yes, yes, fuck,” tears drip from your lash line, “it’s so good, Father Kennedy.”

Molten heat rushes through his veins at your wanton face paired with that sweet voice. His teeth sink into that plush bottom lip, suckling on it until you tug your head back with a soft cry. It’s swollen and split from his teeth, a small bead of blood welling up only for him to lick it away with a groan.  

He licks into your mouth, mixing spit and blood until he’s sucking your tongue past his own greedy lips. His cock slowly ruts in and out of your clenching hole as he kisses you breathless. Your fingers tangle in his rosary, tugging him back to your mouth every time he goes to pull away. 

Leon lets himself go; stops trying to control himself and settles into fucking into your warm, wet cunt with harsh skin slapping thrusts. He bites anywhere his mouth can reach, leaving dark bruises or even outright bloody teeth marks behind. His dark eyes keep track of your pleasure as well; if you wince, he makes sure to lathe his tongue across a bite instead of sinking his teeth into you again or fucks his cock shallowly into your pussy instead of knocking against your cervix how he likes. 

You reward him with pretty little cries and pleads against his lips; your doughy thighs clasped tightly around his waist as you beg for him to ruin your cunt. He wrings orgasm after orgasm until your body’s spent and you're babbling incoherently. 

He keeps you underneath him all night, trading blood tinged kisses as his cock stuffs your squelching pussy. Sunlight begins to stream through the snow tinted windows when he finally manhandles your body to straddle over him once again. 

Leon feels like this must truly be what heaven is like. You, seated in his lap as he buries his cock to the hilt in your hot little cunt watching as you grind down against him. Fat dimples between his fingers as he grips your ass tightly, helping you keep rhythm as he bounces you up and down his dick. 

“Oh Father Kennedy,” you whimper, “I can’t, I can’t—“

“Yes, you can,” he murmurs, easing your harsh grind into a slow back and forth, “you can give me one more so I can feel that pussy squeeze me so I can put a nice thick load in her.”

His fingers slowly circle and pinch your pudgy clit, letting you rock against him a little faster. 

“Oh, I’m-I’m g’nna,” you hiccup a sob, tears dripping from your eyes as he works your exhausted body towards another orgasm. 

“Call me, Leon,” he smiles at you, the first genuine one he’s actually offered to anyone in quite a long time, “now cum for me, squeeze me nice and tight.”

“Leon, Leon, I-I’m cumming,” you gasp out, a mewling cry slipping past your swollen lips as your pussy milks Leon’s cock for the upteenth time since this all started. 

“Good girl, so good for me,” he groans, letting your climax coax his own from him, grabbing your hips to hold you snug to him. 

He growls up at you, cock jumping inside your spasming pussy as rope after rope of sticky cum spurts inside your fluttering walls. 

 “Leon, oh, it’s so warm,” you whimper, one hand settling on your belly and the other resting on Leon’s heaving chest. 

“Fuck,” he yanks you down into a messy, spit filled kiss.

You whine and he softens it, titling his mouth up to press softer kisses to your lips until pulling away. Easing down next to him, you snuggle into his side, burying your face in his neck. 

“So am I forgiven now?” you tease, fingers tracing over the beads of his rosary. 

“Might need to spend some time with me in the confessional,” he presses a kiss to your hair, “just to make sure it takes.” 

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #priest!leon s kennedy #priest!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #priest!leon s kennedy smut #priest!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #fem!reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #priest!leon x reader #💀 anon

[19burstraat]

I think often of the last chapter of crooked kingdom. not the one everyone considers the last chapter, the last last chapter, the pekka chapter. weeks (months?) after kaz scared him out of ketterdam, pekka starts making moves to salvage his businesses. not much, just reading papers and correspondence, maybe answering letters. and that very night, like he's summoned her, inej appears to warn him off. if he ever thinks of coming back to ketterdam, she says, they'll meet again so she can make the second cut. I love love love it. we know that kaz didn't send her ('I have my own message to deliver'), so her knowledge of pekka's attempt to return suggests she's been keeping tabs on him for her own means. or she has supernaturally good intuition, which is probably the sort of thing she'd want pekka to think-- he worries that maybe she isn't entirely human after all. but regardless, this scene serves a couple of purposes-- it hammers home exactly how scared the slavers should be of inej (very lol), it illustrates the contrast between the complacent old ketterdam (pekka & jan van eck) and the frankly feral new one (kaz & wylan), but I think it also draws a pointed line under the closeness of kaz and inej that we saw in the last chapter.

the only witnesses to the kaz-pekka showdown were pekka's men, and inej. we know that pekka's men will have taken pekka's weakness & kaz's monstrosity from it, but what did inej take from it? because put mildly, kaz lost his absolute shit in that chapel, and let slip more than he probably would have done if he'd just been talking to inej alone. inej, at that point, had been aware for a while how obsessed kaz was with rollins, but that probably put into a hard perspective exactly how badly his presence and involvement affects kaz. kaz describes it as a 'dark door' that's opened in him; if rollins was to come back, there's a good chance kaz would be dragged back into that (to use an inej phrase) undertow, of obsession and revenge and irrationality. they don't really discuss it, and we don't get much of inej's perspective on it, but I think it's not surprising that she wants pekka out of kaz's way permanently. he's a threat to any progress she has made or might make with him. he's the tangible reminder of the worst and least reasonable side of kaz that always teeters on the edge of going where inej can't follow.

so yes, we talk a lot about how inej influences kaz... but maybe less about how kaz has influenced inej. inej takes a page out of the kaz playbook, here, probably because she's doing this for him (even if I'm not entirely sure he even knows that she's gone there). she gets into pekka's head, plays on the potentially supernatural and the impossible, sets up a 'what if?' and plants a seed of paranoia. she uses the nickname kaz gave her, 'the wraith', and rollins thinks of her as kaz's 'wraith queen'. kaz says to her that 'sometimes fate needs a little assistance', and clearly she took that to heart. we know that when kaz needs extra morality, he often draws on inej; but when inej needs extra monstrosity, she often draws on kaz.

#mm idk I really like the scene. pekka's pov shuts us out from the truth of it which is nice #six of crows #not sure if this makes sense but anyway #crooked kingdom #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #kanej #pekka rollins #my post

[bupia]

Inexperienced smut #18 with Secondo??? That’s so Secondo coded omfg -Molly💜

GLOVE KINK

"I can't wait to take your innocence."

There's a smut bellow the cut, +18 only, please.

(AFAB!Reader: fingering; oral sex)

Available on AO3

￩ Day 2 | Day 4 ￫

"Why are you acting so shy, now?" Secondo asked with a wicked smile. "You don't need to be shy for your Papa, come."

His extended hand was an invitation, and you hesitated for a moment. You had come to his office after mass with the intention of sharing how the sermon about lust had affected you. There was a part of you that thought it might be better to keep your thoughts to yourself, but you couldn't deny the desire for some attention from your Papa. After those exchanged glances in the chapel, it felt as if he was speaking directly to you every time he emphasized the importance of an orgasm.

"Come on, take my hand," Secondo urged with a gentle smile.

You followed his gaze to his gloved hand, and the thought of how tightly those gloves fit in his hands was strangely captivating. The sensation of the leather on your hand sent a shiver down your spine. Taking a deep breath, you reached for his hand, and a satisfied smile appeared on Secondo's face as he brought you closer to him.

"So what were you saying?" he inquired, his voice soft. "Was it about my sermon today, tesoro?"

"Y-Yes, it was," you admitted.

"And what about it?" Secondo inquired gently.

"I... I just think you were right," you said shyly, your words hesitant. "How we... we... need to..."

"Sì? Need what, tesoro?" Secondo asked, his curiosity drawing you closer to him.

As you took a step back, you realized how close you were to him, more so than you had expected. Your lower back bumped into his wooden table, and you suddenly felt trapped. You saw him getting closer, and conflicting emotions swirled within you. Part of you wanted to escape this situation, but another part wanted to stay, to explore this pull between you two, you wanted to test your limits, and his as well.

"How we need to... let ourselves reach the orgasm," you finally managed to say.

"Oh! sì, sì," Secondo nodded with a grin on his lips. "It's very important to reach the orgasm," he emphasized, his tone suggestive. "But tell me, have you?"

He moved closer, his hands resting on the edge of the wooden table, effectively keeping you trapped between his arms. He lowered his body, bringing his face dangerously close to yours.

"I... I... sometimes," you stammered, avoiding his intense gaze.

"No," Secondo said firmly. "When your Papa is talking to you, you look at your Papa."

You froze in your spot and slowly turned your eyes back to his. His smile and satisfaction were undeniable as he moved one of his hands to yours, caressing the back of it gently yet provocatively.

"So tell me, my innocente tesoro," he began, his hand trailing up your arm to your shoulder. "How do you reach your orgasm?" His words were laden with desire and curiosity.

"Alone," you replied quickly, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Alone? Oh, my innocente tesoro," Secondo mused, his hand moving from your shoulder to cup your cheek gently. "You've never reached the orgasm with anyone before?"

Your cheeks burned even brighter with his question, the overwhelming sensation of having him so close and touching you making your heart race. You shook your head in the negative, unable to meet his intense gaze.

"Normally, I don't indulge in such matters after my sermons," he confessed, his hand still cradling your face as he drew you closer to him. "But I couldn't resist your innocent and curious look as I spoke in the chapel. And now, with you sharing this with me, I can understand why your eyes shone so brightly when you heard me speak," he said, his voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

"W-What are you talking about?" you stammered, feeling a mixture of curiosity and nervousness.

"What I'm saying," Secondo explained, his hand removing from your face, "is that you, tesoro, if you allow me, I would like to give a little sermon for you tonight."

You bit your lip as you watched him carefully remove his Papal robes, placing them on a nearby chair. Your eyes trailed his body, lingering on the shirt he wore, which clung to him in a way that left little to the imagination.

"So? What do you say?" he asked with a seductive grin.

"I'd love to," you replied, your desire and anticipation growing.

"Molto bene," Secondo purred with satisfaction. "Now, take a seat on the table."

With a sense of anticipation and excitement, you followed his command and perched yourself on the edge of the table, ready for the intriguing "sermon" he had in store for you.

"Now lift your habit for me and leave your feet on the edge of the table," he commanded.

With Secondo's command, you felt your heart race, and a flush of anticipation washed over you. You obediently lifted your habit, revealing your legs, and left your feet on the edge of the table, eagerly awaiting his next move.

"Spread your legs, let me see you."

You nodded in compliance, your breath quickening as Secondo's hands reached for your calves, his touch sending shivers up your spine. As he caressed your legs, he issued his next command, and you obeyed without hesitation, spreading your legs to reveal your underwear.

His gaze was fixated on you, and you could see the desire in his eyes intensify as he watched you carry out his every command. He smiled, and continued his gentle massage of your legs, working his way up to your thighs. His hands slowly moved higher, until they were just above your underwear, where he stopped. Your breathing became labored, and you felt your face blush with embarrassment as you continued to spread your legs further apart.

"Now, slowly pull down your underwear," he ordered.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you reached down and pulled your underwear off your legs. Secondo's gaze remained fixed on you, watching intently as you revealed your nakedness to him. He smiled at you, his eyes burning into yours, and you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you as you saw his hungry gaze devour you.

"Molto bene," he said, his voice deep and husky.

Secondo's hands reached for your hips, and he gently pulled you closer to him. His lips brushed against yours, and you felt a jolt of electricity shoot through your body as you felt his tongue enter your mouth. The kiss was intense, and you felt your arousal growing as his tongue explored your mouth.

Secondo broke the kiss and leaned back from you, looking deep into your eyes as he unbuttoned his shirt. You stared back at him, transfixed by the sight of his bare chest. Secondo's chest was hairy, and you could see the muscles ripple as he moved.

"Open your legs wider," he instructed.

You did so, and Secondo ran his fingers along your inner thighs, brushing against your folds. You moaned as you felt his fingers brush against your sensitive flesh, and you felt your body tense.

"I can't wait to take your innocence," he whispered.

As Secondo withdrew his hand from between your legs and began to lick his finger, you watched with bated breath, feeling the tension in the room grow. He then bit the tip of his glove, starting to remove it, but an impulsive urge overcame you, and you reached for his hand, stopping him in his tracks.

"What is the problem, tesoro?" he inquired, his voice laced with intrigue.

You couldn't utter a word, the realization of what you had just done sinking in. His eyes locked onto yours, and he seemed to understand the nature of your action.

A big, wicked grin spread across his lips as he spoke, "Perhaps you're not too innocent."

Secondo's fingers found their way back to your wetness, and he began to rub your clit, the sensation of the leather was too overwhelming. Your breathing grew more rapid, and you moaned softly as Secondo's fingers massaged your sensitive nub.

"You're so wet already, tesoro," he whispered. "It looks delicious."

You felt your juices flow, and you moaned as you felt his finger slip inside you. Secondo pushed his finger deeper inside you, and you groaned as you felt it fill you. The leather only adding some more friction. Secondo removed his finger, and you felt empty, but not wanting to disappoint him, you spread your legs wide open, offering yourself to him. Secondo grinned at you, and then licked his finger clean.

"What is the problem, tesoro?" he inquired, replacing his finger with his thumb.

You closed your eyes, letting out a soft moan as he slid his thumb deep inside you. "N- Nothing..."

"Nothing? Are you sure?" he inquired, teasingly.

"Y-Yes..."

"If it's nothing, I guess it's time for me to worship you now, tesoro," Secondo said, and you nodded in agreement.

Secondo kissed you again, and this time, he pushed his tongue deep inside your mouth. You moaned, and your hips bucked involuntarily as you felt his tongue explore your mouth. Secondo broke the kiss, and you looked into his eyes, watching as he lowered himself to his knees. Secondo stared at you, his eyes burning with desire as he lowered his head between your legs. Secondo's tongue flicked across your clit, and you gasped as he sent shivers up your spine.

"Ah! Pa- Pap-Ah!" you whimpered.

Secondo's tongue moved back and forth across your clit, and you moaned loudly as you felt his tongue massage your clit. His tongue moved faster, and you cried out.

Secondo's tongue found its way to your entrance, and you moaned as he lapped at your juices. Secondo's tongue worked its magic on you. His tongue moved faster, licking, his tongue exploring your depths, and you moaned loudly as his tongue probed you.

"Oh, Papa... Papa... this is so good," you moaned, your hands grabbing the edge of the table in a firm grip.

Secondo pulled back his head from between your legs, licking his lips. "Is it? I'm glad to hear that, tesoro, Papa only wants to make you feel good."

Secondo inserted two fingers inside you, and you moaned louder as you felt them fill you. He began to thrust his fingers inside you, and you moaned as you felt his fingers begin to massage your spot. He lowered his head again and began to suck your clit, and you cried out as he sucked hard. Secondo's tongue and fingers worked together, faster and harder.

"Oh! Satan!" you rolled your eyes to the back of your head. "Fuck! Fuck me, Papa, yes!"

"What a sinful mouth you have, tesoro," he said, grinning mischievously. "It makes your Papa very proud."

Secondo removed his fingers, flicking your clit rapidly. He licked from your clit to your entrance, replacing his them with his tongue. He darted in and out of you, and you screamed, grinding your hips against his face.

"This is too much, I ca... I can't... I can't take it any longer, Papa," you moaned, breathless.

"Do you want to cum for your Papa, tesoro?" he asked, his voice thick with lust.

"Yes, Papa! I want to cum," you whined.

"Where do you want to cum?" he inquired.

"O- On your mouth, P-Papa," you stammered.

"I'm afraid that this is not the correct answer, tesoro, sì?"

Secondo grinned, and then leaned forward. His tongue touched your flesh, and you gasped as you felt him begin to probe your wetness. He raised his hand, and you gasped as he slapped your core slightly.

"Ah!" you let out a loud moan.

Secondo smiled, and then raised his hand again. You cried out as his hand slapped slightly your core again. "Tell me once again, what do you want, tesoro?"

"I... I want to cum on your fingers, Papa," you said, feeling your legs shaking.

"Do you want to cum on my fingers?" he asked, murmuring. "Do you want to leave your scent on my gloves, tesoro?"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!"

Secondo rubbed your entrance, and then slipped two fingers inside you. He began to thrust you with his fingers, and you moaned as you felt his fingers invade your depths. He slid his fingers in and out of you, and you moaned louder as you felt him rub your spot.

"Cum for your, Papa," he demanded. "Give me your orgasm, tesoro, give it to me."

Secondo leaned forward, and you felt his hot breath on your wetness. His tongue traced a line along your slit, and then flicked over your clit. His tongue was so hot, and you moaned as his tongue danced across your clit. You felt yourself get closer and closer to the edge.

"Yes, Pa-Papa! I will, it's all yours, all for you!"

Secondo's tongue flicked back and forth across your clit, and you cried out as you felt your orgasm building. His tongue continued to dance across your clit, and you felt your orgasm approaching. He flickered faster and faster across your clit, until tongue slowed, and then stopped.

Secondo looked up at you, his dark eyes burning into yours. "Cum for me, my innocente temptation," he growled.

His fingers pumped faster in and out of your entrance as you, and you cried out as your orgasm exploded through your body. Secondo's fingers pumped slowly in and out of your entrance as you came, and grinned at you.

He pulled his fingers out of you, and you groaned as you felt empty. His fingers were coated with your juices, and he brought them to your mouth. He pushed his fingers deep into your mouth, and you sucked your own juices off of them. Secondo lapped up your juices hungrily, and you groaned in pleasure.

"You came so good for me, tesoro," he praised you. "And you taste so delicious, sì?"

"T- Thank you, Papa..." you said breathless. "Thank you for my sermon."

You moved to get up from the table, your legs shaking. But as you did, Secondo also stood up. Your eyes remained fixed on him, anticipation swirling between you. He unzipped his pants, and unbuckled his belt, and you watched as he slid his pants down his legs, revealing his thick member.

"Who told you your sermon is over, tesoro?" Secondo's voice was low and filled with desire. "Go back to the table, is time for me to teach you how to come as one."

#kinktober #ghost band #ghost bc #the band ghost #papa emeritus x reader #ghost the band #secondo smut #secondo #papa emeritus secondo #papa secondo #secondo ghost #secondo x reader #smut #papa emeritus ii smut #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus ii

[flowerandblood]

A Winter Beauty (15)

[Aemond Targaryen x fem!Stark reader]

[warnings: smut, sex content, domination and religious kink, fluff]

[description: Aemond and his family arrive at Winterfell for Rickon Stark's Name Day. There, Aemond meets his daughter, who arouses his desire. I changed some names and facts for the sake of the plot. Viserys is also slightly younger in this version.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next parts: Masterlist

______

After the events of the chapel, they both knew that they had no need to pretend to be innocent and God-fearing to each other anymore. Aemond fucked her there every night as she requested, "helping" her pray.

Their wedding was to be in a few days. Lady Stark was preparing not only for the wedding ceremony, but also for the wedding night. She managed to obtain a beautiful, thin material from which she sewed a nightgown, with a large, triangle neckline both front and back, decorated with lace. The dress had mid-shoulder sleeves, also trimmed with lace, and was easily removed by untying a small bow on the side.

She put it on one evening and looked at herself in the mirror with satisfaction, watching the result of her work. She looked obscene, and that was her point. There was no room for anything else in the bed of her husband, her dragon god. She smiled to herself in amusement, thinking of what the queen would think if she saw her in such a shameless dress.

In addition, she planned something special for her husband. She had been thinking for a long time about finally pleasing him with her mouth. She read his books in his absence, including those on physical love in marriage and how to please men. She wanted it to happen on some important occasion and figured it couldn't get any better than their wedding night.

She suggested that they spend their wedding night in his mother's chapel, that he take her in the presence of his gods. Aemond couldn't believe how licentious and godless she was, but he couldn't hide how turned on he was by the idea. They both took pleasure in polluting this sacred place and knew that there was no salvation for them.

The night before their wedding, Lady Stark said she wanted to sleep alone in her chamber. That she wants to part with him for the last time, to join him forever the next day.

Aemond didn't like the idea, since their Valyrian wedding he considered her his rightful wife and wanted her by his side at night. However, he respected her decision and they both slept in separate beds.

The next day, Aemond knew he would not see his wife until after the ceremony in the Great Sept. He was stressed. He didn't like drawing attention to himself, he knew that his appearance gave rise to constant gossip.

He had heard the lords talk sometimes about Lady Stark choosing him because it was easier to seduce a cripple. He knew they were completely wrong, but all he wanted was to be locked up in his solitude with his wife and not have to explain himself to anyone.

Their Valyrian wedding made him see her as his wife, but the wedding in Sept was a relief for him, because it would allow them to finally stop pretending.

They stopped hiding a long time ago, his wife's moans during their nightly raptures betrayed them completely. He wanted to finally be able to enjoy her in front of everyone, kiss her and embrace her without fear of other people's crooked looks.

He had a new robes sewn for his wedding. He wanted it in Targaryen color, ruby and black, and so did his wife. His outer shirt was made of a beautiful, intensely red, stiff material, the buckles with which it was fastened were in the shape of dragon heads. He was wearing a black belt and black pants.

Lady Stark wouldn't let him see what gown she had prepared for her wedding, so he had no idea what it would look like. He was excited at the thought.

As they drove their carriages towards Spet, the people around cheered. He had a pleasant feeling that for the first time in his life he had got what he wanted. The gods had denied him what was his due since childhood, but now he had more than he wished for.

He hadn't expected to marry the woman he fell madly in love with, to whom he was so utterly devoted, and who returned his affections with great fervor. When he thought of her, he felt only peace.

Often, when they were lying together in bed, naked, cuddled up to each other, slowly falling asleep, they talked quietly about various things.

These were their most intimate moments. She told him how she felt the first time she saw him, how she craved his attention. He, ashamed, confessed to her how much he wanted to possess her as soon as he saw her.

He kissed her bare shoulders, telling her how hard he was just looking at them. How he had wanted her back then, in the crypts at Winterfell. His wife would then sigh in delight and contentment, throwing her head back to let him caress her.

She had unlimited layers of tenderness for him, which he constantly craved. He loved it when she stroked his hair, when she helped him comb his hair in the morning, when she kissed his hands, when she massaged his back and shoulders when he came back sore from a hard training.

He shuddered out of his thoughts as a servant opened the door to his carriage and announced that they arrived. He got out with a stony face, there were lots of cheering people around him. He entered the temple, where crowds of people were already waiting for the ceremony to begin.

He saw the king and queen, Lady Stark's mother, and her brother, Cregan, in the front row. Aemond climbed the steps, standing in front of the measter with his hands clasped behind his back.

He shivered as he heard the orchestra, the people outside cheering loudly. He felt his heart leap into his throat and his mouth part slightly in disbelief as he saw his wife.

Lady Stark walked with her hand resting on her father's outstretched hand, her face smiling and happy. Her dress was sapphire, her train trailing a few paces behind her, her shoulders bare, just as they had been when he first saw her at Winterfell.

Her dress had long, floor-length sleeves. Both the sleeves and the dress were embroidered at the bottom with blue snowdrops, the same ones that were pinned in her long black hair, some of her strands were tied back in a bun, all decorated with flowers. His throat went dry that she had chosen the color of her dress with him in mind. She looked like a goddess in it.

Her father, trembling with emotion, led her up the stairs and offered her hand to Aemond, who took it gratefully. Spectre was silent. Aemond now, looking at her closely, couldn't concentrate at all on what was happening or what he was about to say.

Lady Stark looked at him tenderly, seeing that he was in shock. After a while he remembered that he should take a cloak from the servant to cover her with.

He took it carefully and put it on her shoulders. A huge Targaryen crest was sewn onto it. He thought fondly that he could finally officially take her under his protection.

The maester nodded at them and began to speak.

“In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words.”

Aemond and Lady Stark shivered, clutching their hands tighter, and opened their mouths.

"Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am his | hers, and he | she is mine, from this day, until the end of my days.”

They both smiled as thunderous applause erupted around them. Lady Stark stared at him, her face radiant with joy and fulfillment like the sun.

Unable to resist, he took her face in his hands and kissed her hungrily. She moaned softly into his mouth and kissed him back, people cheering. They broke apart, finally feeling the longed-for relief.

Their wedding was more modest than those of Aegon and Helaena. According to them, it was even better. Lord Baratheon, to their satisfaction, did not stay at the feast and returned to Storms End with his family immediately after their wedding. They both knew that nothing could ruin their day.

As the music began, Aemond stood up and held out his hand to her, looking at her expectantly. Y/N looked at him surprised and trembling with emotion. Even the king and queen seemed shocked at what was happening now.

"I didn't know you danced, my husband." She said with amusement as they stepped into the crowd, which parted for them.

“I told you already, I dance, but I don't enjoy it. Nevertheless, I will not let the first dance with my wife belong to any other man." He said low, turning to face her. The orchestra slowly began to play, and they turned in the dance. Lady Stark was smiling broadly. To her surprise, her husband was quite a good dancer.

"You're doing well, my husband," She said, with one of the turns, their hands touched and they spun together, their noses practically touching each other. "Dancing can be very exciting if you so desire." She whispered softly, her hand when she was close to him ran over his thigh, so that no one but him could notice. He took a quick breath and thought maybe he should dance with her more often.

After they danced, quenched their hunger and thirst, their thoughts began to run towards the wedding night. They both looked at each other expectantly, but they knew they should at least hold out until midnight before running away from the feast.

Drunken, Aegon began to babble about bedding and that he hoped his brother would trade wives with him for a one-night stand someday. Aemond wanted to get up, enraged, but Criston sat Aegon back down, whispered a few words in his ear, and the prince calmed down. Lady Stark took her feverish husband's hand in hers and kissed it tenderly. After a few hours, they announced to the king and queen that they were going to their chambers.

Y/N told Aemond that she wanted to change and that they would meet at the chapel. Aemond swallowed hard at the thought of what they wanted to do.

Salome helped Y/N take off her beautiful dress and change into her usual nightgown. She unraveled her hair, smeared her with oils and perfumes. Y/N dismissed her, then reached into her trunk and pulled out the nightgown she'd made earlier.

She put it on quickly, tying a bow at the side, and looked at herself in the mirror. She knew she looked beautiful and smiled at the thought that she was about to try to drive her husband crazy.

She pulled on the bedspread, covering herself, and peeked through the door of her chamber to look around. She could still hear the sounds of partying and feasting from the great hall, not seeing a living soul in the corridor. She quickly ran a few feet barefoot straight to the chapel door and went inside, closing the door behind her.

Aemond, already waiting inside, jumped in fright and exhaled loudly when he saw it was her. Lady Stark turned the key in the door and looked at him. She slowly pulled the bedspread off her shoulders and dropped it to the floor.

Aemond's mouth parted as he saw how deep her cleavage was, her nipples showing through the thin fabric. Her dress covered everything and nothing at the same time.

She approached him slowly, a wide smile of amusement on her face, she could see that he couldn't catch his breath. She approached him with an expression on her face as if she were both an angelic creature and a devil at the same time.

"My husband." She whispered softly, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

He didn't answer. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to him, kissing her passionately. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, his hand gripped her buttock tightly, pressing her against him, he was already hard. He pulled away from her, panting heavily.

"Fuck, I need to feel you." He said low, grabbing her around the waist and laying her on the cloth, that he must have obviously brought to keep them from lying on the bare ground. Lady Stark was breathing fast, it wasn't going according to her plan.

His hands quickly lifted her dress and exposed her thighs, he put one of her legs over his shoulder and leaned over her, his tongue slipping into her without warning.

She moaned loudly, throwing her head back in pleasure, she saw that the menacing figures of his gods spread out on the platforms above her, looking at her judgingly. She tightened her hand on his hair and began to moan softly, feeling his tongue massaging her inside.

She looked at the sculptures with her mouth slightly parted, feeling the heat rising in her lower abdomen. The wet sounds of his tongue licking her juices from her cunt and her loud panting echoed around the temple.

Suddenly he broke away from her, kneeling on his knees and began to undo his pants, looking at her with eye black with desire. She felt her nipples harden, her juices running down her thighs. Aemond smiled darkly at the sight, and she thought with delight that she had created a demon worse than herself.

“I should show my gods how my wife fucks, right? Show how much you need purification and salvation." He grunted, taking her thighs in his hands, parting them obscenely, his cock starting to rub against her entrance, moving up and down in slow motions. Lady Stark moaned, tightening his hands around his, wanting him to finally do what she needed.

"Confess your sins, wife. Tell me what you want, so that your husband can guide you to the right path." He purred, aroused beyond measure, his cock throbbing painfully, feeling how hot and desperate she was.

Y/N swallowed loudly, pursed her lips, blushing. She knew he had beaten her at her own game, at least now, and she had to accept that. She licked her lips, smiling slightly.

"I want my husband to fuck me like a whore in front of his Seven Gods." She said shamelessly, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “I want him to punish me and take away my sinful thoughts so that I can be saved."

Aemond's mouth parted in delight. Just how bad that sounded made him feel that his cock throbbed painfully, impatiently. He tought that he could come just by listening to those insulting, unholy words. They both moaned loudly as he inserted his tip into her and started teasing her with it without pushing it any further inside her.

"You want that? Is that what you want, my sinful, dissolute wife?" He asked excitedly, licking his lips, feeling he was on the brink of going crazy if he didn't come soon.

"Yes, make me pure, my husband" She said and they both moaned loudly as he began to fuck her, he set a quick, brutal rhythm, looking down at their tangled bodies.

"Lying with your thighs spread like that, in front of the gods, in my mother's chapel." He hissed, his cock filling her completely, hitting where she needed it, hard and relentless, fucking her the way she wanted it, her thighs responding hungrily to his every thrust.

Lady Stark pulled him close and they kissed hungrily, their tongues licking each other in a shameless, sticky kiss, panting into each other's mouths, her hand tightening in his hair.

His hips thrust into her in a steady, fast rhythm, their bodies slapping against each other with a wet, debauched sound.

"Please, come inside me, my dragon, my king" She moaned helplessly, wanted to feel it, wanted him to fill her. Aemond moaned low at her words, his hands tightening on her ass, accelerating even more, fucking her with inhuman strength.

"You want that? My royal seed in this sinful, tight cunt? You think you deserve it?” He asked in a trembling voice, he was on the verge, he knew he was about to come.

"Yes, please, fill me, fill me, fill me" She moaned loudly and shivered as she felt a wonderful hot orgasm spread over her body, her cunt throbbing relentlessly, her husband gasping helplessly her name and cum inside her, his hot semen flowed into her in waves. Both of them gasped loudly, moving for a while longer, unable to calm down, surprised at how wonderfully fulfilled they felt.

Aemond slid out of her and lay down next to her, looking at her adoringly. He touched her cheek as if to check if she was real. Lady Stark smiled as she kissed his hand. Aemond grunted in satisfaction.

"We are destined to burn together."

_____

If you want to be tagged in the next parts, let me know. ~

@zenka69 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @namoreno @dreamlandcreations @darkenchantress @moira-strangle-me-please @yentroucnagol @cloudroomblog @thehumanistsdiary @a-beaverhausen @avadakadabra93 @aonungs-tsahik @xmaiaaa @writingaboutlove1998

#aemond x oc #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you #aemond targaryen #aemond x fem!reader #aemond smut #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #prince aemond #aemond fluff #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #aemond x y/n #aemond x original female character #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd smut #hotd fanfiction #hotd x you

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

hello! How are you doing? I was wondering if you could do the papas and an angel reader? I feel like it could be super cute

I am slamming my bank card on the table. I freaking love the contrast of an angel with the Papas. The aesthetic of an angel walking the halls of the abbey? I'm here for it every day of the week. I've toyed a bit with angels and my own headcanons for angels in the Ghost universe so they may not be angels in the Christian sense, hope that's okay!

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐨

You are the most precious thing in the world to Primo (not including his brothers of course)

He first met you while he was praying to Satan in the prayer garden section of his gardens

He saw you first in your true form and he was awestruck by you, stunned by your raw beauty

And seeing you in the human form you take on so as not to frighten mortals just sealed the deal really

Dedicates a bed of flowers to you as a symbol of his devotion, though Satan is still his focus

Has spent countless hours admiring your wings and helping to maintain their feathers

Will delicately weave flowers and plants between your wing feathers for special occasions and events at the abbey

He calls you "mie piume" - my feather

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨

If you hadn't appeared to Secondo in your true form, he probably wouldn't believe that you're an angel

He's not instantaneously awestruck like Primo

In fact, he's more intrigued and wants to study you at first

A lot of the time getting to know you is mostly him asking you questions about angels. You'll have to be stern and let him know that you're a person and not just a creature to be investigated and poked and prodded

Once you get closer, he's incredibly protective of you

Especially around the more feral ghouls that reside in the underground ghoul dens of the abbey

He has a little shoe box that he keeps somewhere safe containing feathers you've shed. He finds them to be too precious to let go

He calls you "mie dolce uccelline canare" - my sweet songbird

𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐨

He's so fascinated by you

You know how adoring and completely and utterly in love Gomez is with Morticia Addams? That's Terzo with you

He's all delicate fingers and tender kisses along the span of your wings and where they join with your back

Takes the greatest care with you and will read up on wing maintenance

Terzo is admittedly a little intimidated by your true form, but he loves that part of you just as much as your human form

He draws and paints pictures of your true form a lot. You inspire him greatly and he wants to capture the beauty of a form that most are terrified of

Also protective over you, but knows that you're powerful enough to be able to defend and protect yourself. It's one of the things he admires the most about you

Calls you "mie colombe" - my dove

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐚

Oh lord he is SMITTEN

Copia gives no shits that you're an angel that's appeared before him in a Satanic abbey at the altar of the chapel

He would do anything for you. He vows himself to you, so long as he can continue his Papa duties and his devotion to the dark lord

Finds himself daydreaming about you often. Sometimes your human form, sometimes your true angel form. He is infatuated with both

You'll probably need to remind him that just because you're an angel doesn't mean you're a divine figure to be worshipped

He admires your wings and loves it when you cuddle at night and drape them over him like a protective blanket

You know that meme where it's like "I'd kill for you. Please ask me to kill for you" "No, Homie"? That's Copia with you

He calls you "mie amore preziose" - my precious love

#primo #papa emeritus i #secondo #papa emeritus ii #terzo #papa emeritus iii #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #primo x reader #papa emeritus i x reader #secondo x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #angel!reader #the band ghost #headcanons #headcanon requests

[see-arcane]

Lucy, Mina, and Jonathan: The Childhood Friend Trio We Don’t Get to See

Because I saw your tag @marghen (and because I need little to no prompting on this)—yes, everyone should absolutely keep in mind that Lucy, Mina, and Jonathan have been friends since childhood. I can’t be bothered to harvest all the scraps of text, but it’s mentioned more than once that Lucy and Mina have been close since they were little girls, and Mr. Hawkins will later mention the fact that he’s known Jonathan and Mina since they were small. They were all wee little kids together, all each others’ closest social circle up through adolescence and young adulthood. And, if the manner of their writing is any indication, they’re still each others’ closest friends.

Things to picture for maximum sweetness (and hindsight pain):

- Mina was the bridging friend between Jonathan and Lucy. As canon has established, both Jonathan and Lucy have the sweetheart gene, and likely took to each other like two golden retrievers meeting for the first time.

- Mina, while still being the mini mom friend, is also the scary friend. She’s the one who goes out of her way to read/stay up late to overhear the ghost stories too menacing for little children’s ears. She absolutely recites them to Jonathan and Lucy. They are both too smitten with her to mention they will have nightmares afterwards.

- Sometime around age 6, Lucy announces that she has already made plans for their home someday. Also their wedding—they will need an especially wide chapel to fit everybody across the aisle, she’s decided. She draws out the situation on a big piece of butcher paper, illustrating little crayon Lucy holding Mina’s hand who is holding Jon’s hand. Lucy is also holding the hand of a stick figure with a question mark for a head. There are several such figures squashed in with the three of them, as placeholders for future people.

Lucy: “In case we need to get more married,” she explains. “We’ll need a very big house.”

- Jonathan causes more than one heart attack when he reveals himself as being part spider monkey. He once climbed a tree that was three floors tall to retrieve Mina’s hat that had blown up into the branches. Another time he climbed the outside of a house to get a stuck cat off the roof. He was 8.

- All three have individually fought for the others’ honor on separate occasions as they grew up. Insults and rumors varied, but generally had themes of implying unmanly weakness on Jonathan’s part, salacious man-stealing on Lucy’s part, and blindness to how foolish it is to let her man be friends with other women on Mina’s part. Rebuttals were always swift, venomous, and often required the insulted party frantically holding back their companions, lest the defensive duo commit something newsworthy against the mudslingers.

- Mina, hiding her left hand: “Lucy. You know that trip to Bournemouth Jonathan and I went on last week?”

Lucy, has been conspiring with Jonathan for the perfect setup for weeks, has been slowly dying with the effort Not to Blab: “Mmhmm?”

Mina: “He proposed to me there. In a graveyard.”

Lucy: “Oh, my!” :o

Mina, glowing: “It was at Mary Shelley’s grave.”

Lucy, turning mental cartwheels: “You don’t say!” :O

Mina, revealing a wedding band with gemstones set like a skull: “And just look at the ring!”

Lucy, straining with every fiber of her being not to break decorum by jumping on the café table and cheering at the sky: “It’s gorgeous, congratulations!” :D

Later, out of Mina’s earshot, everyone in a post celebration-wine buzz:

Jonathan, beaming: …

Lucy, shit-eating grin: …

Jonathan, for the 100th time: …She said y-

Lucy, also for the 100th time: Fuck yeah, she said yes!

(They have been doing this for half an hour. At the full hour mark Lucy is giving a thorough monologue about why she should be both Maid of Honor and Best (Wo)man, it’s only fair, really, she’s known them both longest/best than any of his law school fellows…)

((Jonathan is still nodding at her when he falls asleep and off the chair.))

(((Mina herds them both to bed, silently promising herself never to mention she’d caught on to their plans from day one)))

I don’t know, I just really think it’s vital to recall that these characters are all just barely grazing young adulthood as of the novel’s time, and their entire lives have been spent growing up with each other. Even if the romantic context weren’t there, this is a certified found family trio—we just don’t get the chance to see and appreciate it within the novel due to certain vampiric prick circumstances. 

Which is yet another strike against the bloodsucking bastard man. If it weren’t for Dracula, Jonathan would have gotten home on time and we’d have gotten a whole beach episode in Whitby with the three of them. Sigh.

#yes I do love hurting myself with headcanons why do you ask? #really though if a good adaptation ever happens #I'd love it if they examined the closeness of these characters before Dracula smashes everything with a big gothic hammer #it adds an extra layer of Something Precious Lost to the whole ordeal #not just personal danger #but the threat to this specific group of people who have known and loved each other since they were children #anyway #lucy westenra #mina murray #mina harker #jonathan harker #dracula #dracula daily

[5eraphim]

may i please have something with spy and his s/o who has stockholm syndrome and has been broken down enough that they feel the need to always be touching him? treating him as a king! constantly kissing any spot on him, wanting to leave marks on spy so people know hes claimed, nonstop praising him and stroking his ego, maybe s/o wants to scent mark him ♡ thank you!!

I love you so much right now. I am sending a psychic beam of pure love and kisses directly into your skull. This is just,,, exactly the kind of request I've been waiting for (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄ I'm not 100% sure if you wanted a oneshot or headcanons, but for purely selfish reasons, I'm answering with a oneshot <3 hope you enjoy!

Summary: Cuddling with Spy at night, and feeling a perfect kind of bliss from the knowledge you two are exactly where you're meant to be.

Character: Spy 🐍 (Team Fortress 2)

Rating: M (MINORS DNI)

Content Warnings: yandere, mind break, Stockholm Syndrome, servant/master dynamics, denial/edging, sexual massage, possessive behavior

Word Count: 2.8k

TIP JAR

MASTER LIST

(Song Inspo: Chapel, Nicole Dollanganger)

"I was reading my destiny inside your eyes without knowing it." Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

LAST EDITED- 4/18/2023

Earlier that day, you welcomed your beloved home. Unfortunately, much later than usual, apparently preoccupied with some kind of inescapable work issue. By the time he returned home, the full moon had illuminated the inky-black sky, and a pleasant evening chill settled motionless all around, ending the sun's humid, suffocating summer heat for the day. Crickets chirped in the long grass surrounding the small cabin you and your lover shared, surrounded by the forest and far away from any prying eyes. When you heard the screen door creak open, Spy entered, quietly locking the door behind him, stepping out of his dress shoes and neatly tucking them beside it. Greeting him with a kiss and helping him to slip out of his work clothes, you welcomed him home. Taking note to be extra soft and loving, seeing how thoroughly exhausted he appeared.

Sharing a cup of tea together was a long-standing ritual between the two of you. It was your job to brew and serve the tea while Spy waited patiently. You remembered how pleased Spy looked the first time you managed to prepare the tea exactly to suit his tastes. And how proud you felt, knowing you were likely one of the only people he trusted enough to accept food from. Spy liked to sip his drink while unwinding from his long day, while you would sit and keep him company. Sometimes with chatter, other times quiet and content enough to enjoy a little time together.

Tonight Spy requested you to draw him a bath during the late-night chat, a task you accepted most graciously. He was always so generous to share the tub with you, so long as you would help wash. Or, as he liked to say, "Earn your spot beside him."

While you didn't remember much of life before you met Spy, you did recall the first time he offered to share the bath with you. Long past when he first brought you here to live, and by that point, your resilience began to break down, and it was harder and harder to ignore how badly you wanted to give in and accept his affections. You weren't trying to escape or harm him anymore, no longer because of threat or punishment, but rather an unexplainable yearning for Spy. It wasn't love, not yet, but a means to quell the discontentment you couldn't shake apart from Spy; he completed you.

Your body settled between his long legs, your back to his chest. This was the first time you saw him naked, and it felt bizarrely enticing when he told you how he wanted to see you the same way. The water felt so warm, and you could've melted right there as he used his bare hands to glide soap and suds over your wet skin, covering your body with bubbles and warm water. And for the first time, you didn't shy away from his touch when his fingertips skimmed your thighs and lingered so lightly at your chest, his fingers growing bolder. You allowed your head to lull back and lean against Spy's body, your eyes fluttering shut. Moaning breathily under his touch. Spy hummed as he continued to work, caressing every inch of your body, comforted by the feeling of your body completely relaxed against his. For the first time, you allowed yourself to let your guard down. And by God, did it feel good.

It all felt so long ago, though living in isolation made keeping up with time impossible. But you remember how nice it was to let yourself give in and begin to accept Spy's charms and sensuality. For a while, you tried to remain resilient and faithful to yourself, to only embrace him when sharing a bath, but once Spy caused this fracture in your defenses, he knew it was only a matter of time before you folded. No much longer did you bother lying to yourself. Pretending you didn't love the feeling of hot water washing over you, Spy's touch getting bolder when he could tell you were no longer trying to push him away. He told you how proud he was to see you at ease like this, how he knew you'd be much more comfortable after you'd removed your layers of clothing and gave him a chance. How now it made sense why you were always so high-strung and wound up under all those clothes, you were far better off living this. His voice and hands were hypnotic, pulling you deeper and deeper into this new peaceful state of mind. You didn't even protest when he pulled you into his bed that night.

Tonight went quite similar. By now, you were far more used to taking Spy's orders and were responsible for stripping down yourself and helping undress him, folding the clothes neatly on the countertop before you were allowed to enter the bath. He referred you to lay between his legs, being so kind to help wash you before himself, knowing this was your favorite spot. The motions are familiar but in a comforting way. The feeling of a trusted routine to help unwind at the end of such a taxing day.

Neither of you dressed after the bath, deciding to dry off and hop into bed. All the lights were off, but you could still see around the bedroom clearly enough with the moon's light shining into the bedroom. You tried to fall asleep, but feeling restless, you couldn't quite find sleep. Instead, your mind wandered to the sensation of your beloved Spy curled beside you in bed. Spy always looked so beautiful when he was asleep, his face relaxed, breathing so gentle, he looked like a living marble Adonis. Nothing less than perfection in your eyes. He slept on his back while you were curled up on your side facing him, head resting on his chest.

You nuzzled your head into his chest, snuggling a little closer. The feeling of Spy's hand gently stroking your head gave you a small jolt of surprise, as you thought Spy was already asleep. "You're awake?"

His eyes were still shut when he answered. "You've been fidgeting beside me all night. No one could sleep through that." You bit your lip nervously, feeling a light stab of guilt for this. "I'm so sorry about that. I didn't even realize."

Spy leaned down to kiss your head, " You're alright, but I wonder, were you trying to get my attention? Is there something you want from me now that it's so late at night?"

You flushed a little, "No, it was an accident! I'm just- I mean, I'm sorry I woke you up."

Spy cracked the eye oven looking down on you. "How about a back rub to make up for it, then? You've always been so good at those." You couldn't help but feel bubbly inside from his praise, and with a quiet "yes sir," you climbed up over him. Spy rolling onto his stomach now, arms under the pillow he rested his head on while you straddled his lower back.

As gently as you could, you ran your hands over the skin on his back, initiating the skin-to-skin contact delicately, still unable to shake your initial guilt for waking him up in the first place. His body felt so soft and clean after the bath. His back accumulated tremendous scar tissue over the years, and your heart ached to think about Spy away on his own where you couldn't protect him. The pain was all the worse as you knew, deep down, this was how it had to be. You wished you had some kind of magic touch to heal the scars for good or to take on the wounds yourself. Unfortunately, the best you could do now was run your soothing touch over the blemished area. Though you'd never admit this to him, you always thought Spy's scar tissue was sexy, making his already charming physique even more alluring.

Using steady, well-practiced hands, you began to apply more pressure to the massage, knowing where he usually held tension and where to target to have him moaning and sighing in relief. Starting high, around his shoulder blades, before moving your hands up and down his body, leaving no area untended. Your fingers work hard to draw out his tension and ease his pain. In the low light, you could see Spy relaxing into your touch a little more, and you felt an erotic jolt of excitement as you heard him beginning to let off gentle, breathy moans as you worked.

Your eyes drift shut when you feel his hand against your outer thigh. The light touch against your upper leg was innocent enough, but you were aroused all the same, moaning through clenched teeth, tensing up. You were caught off-guard and felt goosebumps prickling across your arms and legs. But you didn't take this as your cue to stop. Instead, you began to massage him deeper, moving with more force but remaining as slow and sensual as possible. Thumbs digging into the tissue of his lower back, fingers rubbing little circles, occasionally using your palms and knuckles to grind even harder.

You didn't even realize how far your mind had drifted when you felt his fingernails brushing against your thigh. Then, when you felt his hand stroke higher than expected, you flinched inward, hissing sharply. It wasn't until after you discovered when you curled your hands into tight fists in shock did you realize you accidentally scratched your nails against his skin. Leaving a few puffy scratches over his shoulder blades where your hands were. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry- it was an accident!"

It was impossible to stop your hands from shaking as you pulled them into your chest in shame upon a braising Spy's precious skin. It wasn't much of an abrasion, just a few red stretch marks along his back, the longest of which was about the length of a pinky finger, with a few tiny beads of blood. Still, you felt awful for what you'd done all the same. You were about to climb down and fetch the first aid kit from the bathroom when before you could move, you heard Spy's voice. "Did you draw blood?" He didn't sound mad, rather neutral, actually, but you were wracked with guilt all the same.

"I did; I'm so sorry! Let me get you patched up."

"No, I want you to lick it up."

His words stopped you dead in your tracks. "Is he being serious?" you wondered, and for a moment, you felt frozen in place, unable to decide if he seriously wanted you to do what you were told or if he was being sarcastic. Though this didn't last long, he tilted his head back a little. From his position lying on his stomach on the bed, he could only move so much, but in the low lighting in the room, you could swear you could just barely catch the light of the moon in his eyes.

"Go on, do as you're told, and clean up your mess."

You were genuinely comforted to see he wasn't upset with you, though it didn't entirely absolve you of the guilt of your actions. If this was what he wanted, it was your job to deliver. You planted both hands on the bed as you scooted down to lay above him on your elbows. Now your head was just over the tiny wound, and even up close, you could see the scratch wasn't anything worse than a cat's scratch, and if you were honest, there was a chilling excitement you felt. Something about being ordered to kiss the wound felt so intimate. Your eyes closed as you leaned down closer, your tongue rolling out just enough to swipe up the tiny beads of blood before returning to your mouth. You felt the taste of copper follow the blood into your mouth, lingering for just a second as you swallowed the warm substance. Feeling bolder, you lightly kissed the sensitive area you'd left a scar, but it wasn't enough. You wanted more, to caress his flesh with your lips, kissing your love tenderly to show your reverence. Spy shifted a little under you, rolling from his stomach to his side as you moved to accommodate him.

He hummed softly to himself constantly as you kissed your way from his shoulder blades to the side of his neck. You could feel his pulse below your mouth, all too aware of how he clearly enjoyed feeling your lips against the thin, sensitive flesh. He used a gentle but firm hand to cup the side of your face, guiding your lips to meet his as you sighed into the kiss.

It wasn't long before his tongue was in your mouth, and you were back on top, the two of you moving as one as he rolled to his back, you taking this as an invitation to go back to straddling his torso. The kiss felt so passionate and sensual, and you could not stop yourself from lightly grinding your lower body against his, desperate for any friction between your legs. You moaned into the kiss when you felt his fingertips feeling up the sides of your body. You wanted desperately to move his hands from the sides of your hips to between, but you also didn't want the pleasant shivers his touch brought about to stop. It was impossible to hold yourself back. Spy deepened the kiss, lips sliding against your own as you returned the affection. His touch, gentler than yours, had you feeling so hot, bothered, and almost painfully wet. Your hands worked through his hair, winding it around your fingers, pulling slightly as he teased your body, but just as you were about to start rolling your hips, Spy pulled away, removing his fingers from your body. Spy looked up at your confused expression with a coy grin.

"It's getting late. Why do we settle down for the night?"

"Can't we go a little longer?"

"Maybe tomorrow night."

Your head dropped in disappointment. "Please, just a minute longer, I- God Spy, I'm so wet, I need you so bad it hurts!"

Your pain only amused the man as he chuckled softly, his hand smoothing back your hair, "If you love me, you'll do as you're told." It hurt, but he was right, as usual, and with a half-hearted "yes sir," you peeled away from him, moving to lay on your side facing him. While Spy didn't move from his back, waiting for you to cuddle up closer, no doubt feeling your body trembling with the effort it took to remain still.

"You're being good for me, right? You aren't touching yourself, are you?"

Shaking your head, no, Spy pulled you a little closer to him. Kissing the top of your head while you lay against his lithe body. "Very good. Your hands are only to serve me, not yourself."

This man was a sadist, wrapping himself tightly around you while speaking in that low-breathy murmur that gave you chills, feeling his warm breath fanning your overheated body and skin. It drove you mad in the best way imaginable.

You could swear you felt sweat begin to bead along your back with the effort it took to obey his command. Feeling his warm skin against yours, the softness of the blankets, his natural aroma overwhelming your mind, not to mention the already uncomfortable burning felt between your legs, you wanted so badly to climb back over him and relieve the awful tension, but you wouldn't dare. Spy's approval and praise meant the world to you, and disobeying him to satisfy your carnal desires would be unthinkable. Spy's breathing began to deepen and slow, and you felt his arm around your shoulders starting to slacken as he drifted off to sleep. And you took great comfort in knowing you were about to settle down for the night, sleeping in the embrace of your reason for living.

Perhaps your beloved Spy was no longer a person to you, and your love for him transformed him into something beyond human. Now he was the light of your life, the only one who made you feel alive. As you felt his arms wrapped around your body, his warm body curled up behind you, his body heat warming you and the bed's blankets, the heat making you want to nestle up even closer, to feel every inch of your beloved's perfect body wrapped around yours, as protective of you as you were to him. And with God as your witness, you swore, you would protect him until the day you died.

#im pretty sure spy got dead last in the poll i posted asking who should get the next oneshot but i wanted to write this so bad- #i am nothing if not selfish to my core <3 #anonymous #request #x reader #yandere #self ship #servant/master #domestic #mind break #yandere x reader #yandere king #tf2 drabble #tf2 x reader #tf2 smut #yandere drabble #yandere sumt #yandere imagine #tf2 spy x reader #yandere tf2 #yandere team fortress 2 #king x servant

[talesfrommedinastation]

“I have my family, the 41st,” responded Metric, his voice both sad and proud, “You know them, Tro. And the clones who have escaped. That’s why we’re going back out there. We are defending our people…you are our people, too.”

Tikkun Olam: Part 2, Far Past the Ring

----------------------

The challenge of writing side characters is, sometimes, they get interesting. They start to develop voices, personalities, histories, relationships with other characters, canon and otherwise.

That's Metric for sure, pictured with Haber 'Hobbs' Chapelle, a Belter kid. It’s my art.

It all started off because, when Crosshair gets rescued and taken to the Ring Gate, I knew his saviors had to be clones that probably knew Mayday during the Clone Wars*. Said clones also needed to be good translators, because they'd have a slew of Lang Belta messages drawing them in.

So, boom: here comes the 41st Elite Corps, dudes that were working with Wookiees for years. They’re used to wild situations, new languages, and ungovernable weirdos. Perfect for meeting Belters!

*= I headcanon Mayday as a former 41st himself, and that’s how he ended up on Barton IV.

#tbb #cloneforce99 #thebadbatch #the expanse #the bad batch #theexpanse #belter #fanfiction #star wars crossover #the expanse crossover #clone oc #oc and oc #oc belter #oc child #oc soldier #41st elite corps #kashyyyk trooper #clone trooper oc #clone trooper #clone troopers #star wars tcw #clone wars #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #clone wars fanart #tcw

[blackberry-gingham]

Give me your favourite blorbos and favourite headcanon for them

Is this a Christmas present for me anon? Bc if it is, I love it and thank you 😚💖😭😭

I have a lot of characters I like, but as far as absolute faves rn, here's Gambit and Nightcrawler :) thank you so much for this generous ask and enjoy!

Gambit

Gambit's father tried to send Remy to receive formal education as a kid, but Gambit wasn't very cooperative about it (like, at all) and so he never finished

You would hardly know this though, as Gambit is not only, of course, able to read and write perfectly- but he is also bilingual (English and French), can write in cursive, and can read Roman numerals

Gambit grew up Catholic in comic canon, but as an adult he now carries and proclaims himself as atheist (this is also canon, I believe) however, in his heart of hearts, he's really more agnostic

Sometimes in dark hours, he will pray the rosary to soothe himself. That and, very rarely, he can sometimes be found sitting in the local chapel- just to think, he says

Also in comic canon, Gambit dreams of having a family and wants to be a dad one day- as for the headcannon, he'll never say a preference aloud, but secretly he hopes to have mostly girls

He has learned to braid and tie those big, glittery hair bows in preparation for this, but he would die before letting on about either of those skills

This is canon as far as the cartoon is concerned, but just for the record I hc that not only is Gambit indeed a really great cook, but it is also secretly one of his hobbies

Here's something interesting- in comic canon Gambit has his powers surgically reduced by Mr sinister so that he can better control them. For the hc, I believe this is where their red color comes from, but when he was at full power, his eyes were purple

Free fun fact! But this is how you can tell if the gambit I'm writing or drawing is at his full, godly power or not- I intentionally depict him with either color to suit my story/imagination

This might be actually controversial to some, but I am in this category of women myself, so do not fear: Gambit secretly is very (VERY) into curvy women, especially after having grown up in the south (he's a hips and thighs guy, if you're curious)

However, and this is the controversial part, he's one of Those Guys™ that feels ashamed of attraction, so he will very rarely pursue or even entertain them if anyone he knows is watching

If he thinks he can get away with it privately tho- he most definitely will go for it

In a world where he either doesn't end up with rogue or something tho, this weird embarrassment thing goes away entirely as he gets a little older and more emotionally mature

For my followers: this reservation does not exist at all in regards to dad bod Gambit. He proudly enjoys great food AND fine ass women- no holds barred

Gambit's love language is quality time, his myer briggs is ESTP, his sign is Leo, he's about 6'4 (I like to imagine him a little extra tall), and if you see me write/draw him with a dad bod he's at least about 34 years old

Nightcrawler

Nightcrawler cannot swim, at least- not formally

This has nothing to do with physical ability, but rather that he just never learned, mostly bc he has/had no need

He's never had any formal education either, and only learned to read and write at the monastery in his early 20s

This also means he barely spoke English until meeting the professor- now, he's fully fluent tho

I feel that some people are going to act like this is controversial, even tho it shouldn't be lmao- but I hc that Kurt is a virgin

I don't care what the comics say/imply or how old he is: on this blog he takes his faith very seriously and is waiting for marriage

While he grew up staunchly Catholic, as he has gotten older and had more opportunities to study religion on his own, he later converted to Christianity

On the subject of older Nightcrawler- as he ages, certain attributes of his mutation become more pronounced: his fur grows to a thicker, almost woolly texture, his top fangs are longer and protrude from his lip, and he gains slightly keener senses more akin to Wolverine's

On that note- Kurt's hair is naturally curly (although he does nothing to care for it) so once his fur starts growing thicker, this is where it gains it's interesting sherpa like quality instead of just the short, velvet like fuzz he's known for

While his human disguise changes all the time from comic to comic, I like to headcannon that Kurt's disguise is just his natural face and hair, but with human colors- obviously

I toyed with the idea that his human hair would be red/ginger like mother mystique, but ultimately I hc it to be a very light blonde and his eyes are honey brown

On virtue of being an extremely thin man, Kurt ALSO is strongly attracted to full figured women- unlike Gambit tho, at no point in his life does this attraction bother him nor impede his romantic pursuits

Kurt's love language is physical touch, his myer briggs is INFP, his sign is Cancer, and if you see me draw/write him with a dad bod he's probably about 38 years old

#i could write hcs just for dad bod versions of these characters tbh- but i shall restrain myself #im so happy rn like you legit have no idea #XMEN CONTENTTTTTTT WOOOOHOOOOOO #nightcrawler x reader #gambit x reader #marvel xmen

[hikennosabo]

now that i've marinated in trimax's ending, i wanted to reflect a bit. i definitely don't have it in me to write a full review or anything lmao, but... it was a really incredible story, and i had a great time. i don't think i've ever cried this much over a manga, lol... usually i cry over audiovisual media. even all my crying about one piece has mostly been over the anime. other manga i've cried over off the top of my head have been different types of crying, if that makes sense (like crying over shimanami tasogare because the queer themes hit home, not because i was overly invested in & emotional about the character arcs). other manga like devilman and csm hit me emotionally but i didn't necessarily shed tears over them, and if i did certainly not as much as i did trimax lol.

i (predictably, if you know me, i love characters with complicated sibling relationships) latched onto knives when i watched tristamp... he is definitely hard to like in the manga sometimes, but his character arc is fantastic, so i ended up starting and ending this journey crying over him LMAO. i really really love all the characters in this story, except for like... the cartoonishly evil one-off bad guys and, as we all know, chapel. lmao. most of the characters are likable in one way or another, by some combination of being cool, strong, charismatic, funny, etc... just being complex and fantastically human, which is only natural in a story about human nature.

and of course i need to give a huge thank you to @trigunbookclub, @revenantghost for organizing, @trigun-manga-overhaul for the incredible scans & translation, and everyone in the tag for making this such a fun experience!

i loved reading everyone's posts, it really helped fuel the brainrot, and writing my own posts ended up being A Task but also fun. even though i feel my posts were mostly an exercise in inventing new ways to portray crying and screaming over text as opposed to everyone else's thoughtful observations and analysis LOL. and participating in book club kept me reading at a good pace, otherwise i either would have binged the whole thing in like 2 weeks or gotten distracted and not finished, so thanks for keeping me on schedule lol.

this is not the last you'll see of me in the tag, i still have art (memes) i want to make, there are a LOT of things i want to draw, a potentially (relatively) big project in my brain which i have no guarantee i'll get to lmao, plus character/ship playlists if i finish them, and maybe some other posts as i rewatch tristamp and 98 again. and i've still got to read multiple bullets ofc.

also i was holding back on following people because i was trying to avoid spoilers (which i failed at anyway because i have no self-control), but now i can follow people in the tag sooooo hello and sorry if you see me going through your trigun tags

#trigunbookclub #june speaks #trigun talk #oops this got way longer than i thought it would

[wishing-stones]

your concept of nightmares castle is super interesting! are there any other tidbits we haven't seen yet? or is that a spoiler?

Oh hey! Yeah, this is a good one. It's gonna be long, but this is gonna be good. And lore heavy.

Nightmare's entire castle is in a sort of pocket dimension-- not its own AU, its own little area in the multiverse that he can more-or-less control. Dream has a very similar pocket dimension, but his is a little cottage with a view of rolling hills and lots of flowers where it's always golden hour.

Nightmare's castle sits atop a rocky crag of a mountain that is above preceptory cloud level. It's always clear out, with the only clouds visible being cirrus and similar. Sometimes, the tops of thunderstorms pass by, giving the castle some ambiance, but there is never any lightning or rain.

There isn't really a daylight cycle, either. It is a little brighter in the "daytime," lightening into blue hour, and then gets a little purpley at dusk, and pinkish at dawn.

This doesn't really effect the vegetation any, since they mostly subsist off ambient magic rather than photosynthesis. They similarly do not need watering. (There's a bit of an exception for things that aren't part of the realm itself-- Nightmare's garden needs tending and watering, but they adapt to absorbing ambient magic in place of sunlight.) Parts of the mountain are forested, and grade more gently than some of the sheer drops that surround the castle-- the training pitch we've seen a lot of in recent chapters is naturally boxed in by part of the mountain, and has a small thicket on its other side. There's some bushes and other plants there as well-- It's not maintained, and the only paths through it are those that have been forced.

While the castle and its grounds are enormous, the mountain itself takes up most of the domain. There's about of mile of forest in all directions from the base of the mountain, but wandering off into it will either a. get you lost in the void, if you're not lucky b. get turned back around toward the castle, even if you were walking away from it c. 'fall' off the edge into a random AU. Sucks to suck.

The mountain is active, but because monsters in general are very good at harnessing geothermal energy, that's how he powers the whole thing. There's a core-like device inside the mountain that provides the castle with an endless supply of clean energy. It also provides almost all of the hot water used in the castle as well (which is why I had Ren note that the water smelled faintly sulphuric very early on.)

It has four wings, so from above, it sort of looks like a big plus sign. Some wings are larger than others, and the south wing has the tallest towers. It has ramparts as well, but no one's gone out on them in R&R. Kicking myself that I didn't utilize them LOL

I think? I said everyone has their rooms in the east wing? And the stars occupy the north wing right now. The west wing is where the gym, rec room, and pool/sauna are, the ballroom takes up a good part of the south wing, the entrance is on the first floor of the east wing, the dining hall is dead center, with the kitchens below it, the drawing room is west of the entrance, and on the second story of the main building is Nightmare's throne room and adjoining war room. The lab is beneath the western wing, and the dungeons are beneath the south wing, and at the top the tower IN the south wing is an observatory. Nightmare's office is near the east wing in the main hub, on the top floor.

The exterior is very gothic looking, made of dark stone with some gargoyles and the like, and along the longer wings (west/east) it has flying buttresses.

Other rooms that exist that haven't been shown/mentioned yet: -A chapel, which is mostly just there for The Aesthetic ✨ (There were a few of them in blueprints that Nightmare gathered to draft his own, so he included it.) It has no specified deity, but one of the stained glass windows is very clearly a depiction of the tree of emotions -A library, which briefly got mentioned, but it's enormous. It's towards the beginning of the west wing. -A laundry room, which clearly began life as a servant's quarters, but was repurposed when Nightmare built the place. There's dumbwaiter access to it, so it was a very obvious choice -An armory in the west wing that sees almost no use, since they tend to keep their weapons on their person, if they use them. It's mostly a showcase of fancy weapons and armor, but there's a few 'trophies' from battles they fought or particularly tough opponents they've taken down.

I think that about covers it! I've described the interior in great detail, but it's all black-and-gold rococo with touches of maroon in drapes and runners.

#k answers #k headcanons #feat. nightmare #kind of I mean it's HIS castle #I will never draw this building or make a blueprint I am garbage at architecture

[alena-reblobs]

Trigun Bookclub Trimax Vol8 Part1

Vol01: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  | Vol02: Part 1 | Part 2

Trimax: Vol01 Part 1 Vol01 Part 2 | Vol02 Part 1 Vol02 Part 2 |

Vol 03 Part 1 | Vol03 Part2 | Vol04 Part1 | Vol04 Part2 | Vol05 |

Vol06 | Vol07 | Vol08 Part1

As a warning, I will start babbling about Vashwood in this volume (though not really in this part yet) and then probably in all volumes to come, too. Obviously because I love the pairing but also because their relationship is so important and impactful, and this volume marks such an important milestone.

What I really like in Vash and the talk between him and Knives at the start of Chapter 1 is, that Vash also acknowledges the pain and abuse that humans have inflicted upon the Plants. He totally understands Knive's anger and why he acts that way, but the kind sides of the humans that Vash was witness to as well, Knives never got the chance to learn. And if you'd try to show kindness to him now, he wouldn't appreciate or even see it.

Not the face of someone who's happy to be back with his old crew obviously. (Sometimes some drawings of Wolfwood make him look so much less bulky and more fragile and like the tiny Wolfwood, like here on the right...maybe because we can't see these huge shoulders. I like that!)

Still trying to live by Vash's and now his ideals, even though there's no way these soldiers are gonna get back out of this alive anyway...and how he stubbornly doesn't answer Chapel...(Meanwhile Livio is thinking "Nice! Free banquet! *continues to slaughter the men*)

Oh my boy you've come such a long way :'(

The whole rest of the talk between Knives and Vash at the end of ch1 was a great character insight, and next to what lots of other people already said I wouldn't know what to add to that. So I'm just choosing to save these panels here, sums it up pretty nicely and we get to see the two brothers in a nice comparison!

Chapter 2:

Please take my boy out of this situation. He clearly doesn't want to be there. (the way Wolfwood looks so much not-in-control of the situation....oh man)

Make a pirouette, and I'll give you a 10/10 for this jump, Knives.

If some had not been aware until now, at this point at the latest everybody will have noticed that Nightow doesn't fuck around with depicting some traumatic and cruel stuff. (And boy does he know how to do it)

There are so many awesome pages in these later volumes that I'm basically just copying whole pages in these posts here but HOLY COW doesn't this look epic.

And the whole time, Vash is unable to do anything. At least he's giving Legato a hard time, too.

That above panel damn. And look how it's killing Wolfwood internally. He's seeing all those evil deeds done by the arc, helping alongside Chapel now too, probably, and then he's already got the guild of bringing Vash here to get him trapped....all just because he wants to save his home and the kids there but BOY is it killing him inside. It sucks when you have to be the bad guy to save the ones you care about.

Also, the turn the story takes at this point, with everything falling into chaos so quickly...it's gotten very quickly so much darker now. I do like dark stories too so I was enjoying this with anticipation how it could get resolved when I read this for the first time. Still, very tough stuff to digest.

And then, of course, omg these girls appear again!!! You go!!! However you managed to survive, you're looking well. I'm also glad Luida is still here too ♥

Chapter 3:

If I'm ever in need for a mechanic and had to choose from the Trigun cast you know I'd go for Brad. Look how crafty he looks with that..drill...thingy. Leaking faucets, here's your mortal enemy!

THANK YOU Luida. Yes, Vash has dangerous powers, but he's also Vash and you all owe him so much!! Not letting some fear prevent you from trusting in him!

Wolfwood awoooing at the moon, just like his name says. Also, this was the scene where the plants memories are being shown, and I love that we actually get to see something from their view! The way it's done, with only same-size panels from the same view is also the perfect way to make that clear.

Super neat way to show how all these different memories and plant consciousnesses (?) are breaking him apart

Please look at our queen in all her murderous glory.

oh god oh god oh god (I'm reading this for the 12234th time but still)

oh god OH YES

#trigun #trigunbookclub

[furbing-atrocities]

Hi, I'm Leviathan

Im Leviathan, but u can call me Levi, or Lev, or honestly any variation of Leviathan! My pronouns r they/he/it, and I'm a libramasculine, ambiamorous, omnioriented demisexual grayromantic.

Tags: #tech stuff and #f: [furby name]

I drew the header, and I will *try* to update it every time I get a new furb! [<- very very behind]

My main blog is @ace-up-your-sleeve , my plushie blog is @beanie-buddy-boy , my alterhumanity blog is @fish-forcibly-removed-from-water, and my regression blog is @dreamy-puppy-xo

I'm a MINOR. Don't be weird.

secret draw box

DNI: TERFs, transmeds, racists, exclusionists or queerphobes of any kind, etc.

furby bios (w some pics) under the cut

Loup

he/they

non-working

gay (mlm) trans demiboy!

scene 

an absolute angel

hyper from all of the monster he drinks

pinterest board

Ziggontorath (aka Ziggy)

he/they/xe/weird/eye

working w/ a voice glitch

xenogender user!!!

masc agender, dreameyegender, eyeclusterin, weirdcorian, and kidcorestalgic!

aroace and in a qpr w Fax Machine

pinterest board

Sistine Chapel

she/her

fully working

soft girl lesbian

likes art and sapphic poetry

shy and blush-y

once you get to know her tho, she is very goofy!!

pinterest board

Casimir

he/him

working but mute

loves flowers smmmm 

loups bf

yes he gives loup flowers

bi af

uses <3 too much

pinterest board

TUP

Tremendous Unanimous Pickles

any pronouns

working + has a voice glitch!!!

once screamed bc i took her batteries out

even ppl who hate furbies think hes adorable

pinterest board

Kioko

she/her

works but gears r rlly loud (thanks Jetta 🙄)

very curious about everything 

likes coloring and eating bugs

Tup is like an older brother

Ziggy and Piccolo are her dads <3

Flanagan Shithead

he/him

kinda looks like balls with a face and pubes 

feral as fuck + will bite you

Cyborg Piccolo Fax Machine

he/him

untested and missing his batter cover :(

transmasc and in a qpr with Ziggy <3

physically disabled + had a prosthetic leg

dancing queen young and sweet only 17

major dad energy. need to get this man a hawaiian shirt stat

Nyx

she/her

fully working and goofy as all hell

soon to be customized <3

rlly bubbly and energetic

Allergic Reaction aka "Reo"

he/him

fully functioning

so pissy

like he is just so angry for no reason!!!!

Cheesecake

she/they

nonfunctional

butch lesbian

punk asf

doing your mom dating Sistine Chapel <3

raspberry swirl custom (based on the prototype)

Cough Syrup

he/she/they

unironically one of my favs tbh

her singing makes me rlly happy

i rlly like playing with their hair

he rocks french braids

Raul

he/they

shy lil fella

my gf got him for me for my bday <3

he has my fav voice of all my '98s

someone said that he and cough syrup kiss a lil sometimes in the comments of their intro post???

to me thats like saying 2 newborn babies are "dating" bc they r next to each other

Gilbert

he/him

gay and the colors of the mlm flag <3

literally just a little guy

gifted to me by someone in my server 🫶

Bubblegum

she/her

a 9/11 baby

a custom for my gf <3

Chevel Philodendron Silly Goose

he/she/they/it

"Choose Goose*

omnigay boygirl silly swag <333

had the biggest glow up ever

Pancake Robomachine

they/it

nonbinary silly :3

first complete reskinning ive done :3

named by my little cousin

Angel Dust/Anthony

he/him

gay

makes 7 sex jokes a minute

based on the Hazbin Hotel character

#furby 1998 #1998 furby #furby buddy #furby 2005 #2005 furby #furby connect #furby fandom #all furby #furblr #furbies #furby community #furby collecting #f: ziggy #f: loup #f: sistine chapel #f: tup #f: casimir #f: kioko #f: cyborg piccolo fax machine #f: allergic reaction #f: nyx #f: cheesecake #my furby #f: flanagan shithead #f: gilbert #f: raul #f: cough syrup #f: bubblegum #f: choose goose #f: pancake robomachine

[rtnortherly]

I’ve got such a deep fondness for stylized art. I want to do more of it. It’s always so delightful and charming, or has so much character and story telling.

Downside is; I was raised in an environment where so much emphasis is put on ‘realism’. The more ‘complex’ a style is, the more it got celebrated. I still remember being told by a parent that they didn’t like my ‘anime stuff’, and when I try to talk about stylized art that I like it gets brushed off, or I get well intentioned encouragement to stick to painterly/realistic looking stuff (I don’t particularly consider any of my art very realistic so it hard to find the right words to talk about this)

Mostly I try to ignore that and do what I want anyway, but it gets hard when I only receive positive reinforcement for one type of art over another (ah, look, they’re internalizing things that don’t need internalizing again).

All this to say I have so much respect for stylized art. I wish art was taught better at base levels of education so that people could understand that there is equal measure of intent and skill in both realism and stylization, be it abstract, cartoon, comic, anime, whatever. It takes an understanding of the fundamentals no matter what avenue you choose. Stylization needs equal understanding of anatomy, shape, story telling etc. you have to think about clear silhouettes, things like line weight. You need to know your medium. A big part of the reason there’s such clean, consistent, thin line art in anime styles is because it is easier to animate. Designing webtoons and comics requires knowing how to create character designs you can draw over and over again for potentially years. You gotta know storytelling and panels and composition. You needs your art to be clear.

And there’s so much more than that. So many active decisions and skills. Sometimes people who are unfamiliar with the medium get caught up on the idea that it’s ‘simplified’ and therefor ‘easier’ and therefor worth less???

But all art is a form of expression, be it a renaissance inspired oil painting, a photo realistic piece, or a Sunday comic strip in the newspaper. It’s a part of human experience and culture and it all means something and that is beautiful.

Mostly this is a reminder to myself. To pursue what I love, no matter the form it takes. It doesn’t have to be on the walls of the Sistine Chapel to mean something. It can just be a goofy little doodle of a goofy little guy on a tumblr blog three people know about and that’s amazing. Because that is three people I might never have had any interaction with otherwise.

And more significantly: I had fun. I like it. It means something to me.

All this to say I wanna try experimenting with my art a bit. I wanna post doodles of questionable quality while I muddle around and figure stuff out. I wanna do it all.

#art #thoughts #me spiralling for no good reason and making it public #may delete later