#this is a rework of an ancient one ...

[weepingalaxy]

thinking abt fnaf again and decided to draw some of the kiddos (im so sorry abby garrett mci dci and random unnamed dead kids from security breach maybe next time)

[quibbs126]

Randomly because I’m thinking about it, one thing I think is interesting about the Ancients’ designs is that Golden Cheese, Dark Cacao and Hollyberry all have eye colors that match the colors of their Soul Jam. Meanwhile, White Lily’s don’t reflect her Soul Jam’s color, and she ended up becoming Dark Enchantress

But then we have Pure Vanilla, who has one eye that matches his Soul Jam, and one that doesn’t

I’d argue that this could have a meaning of him being somewhere in the middle, or having to struggle between, but I’m pretty sure nothing like this will end up actually happening with him

But I mean, it’s an interesting detail

Actually you know what, while we’re speaking of Pure Vanilla’s design, he’s weird from the other Ancients in other ways too

Most obviously, his color scheme doesn’t match his Soul Jam whatsoever, unlike the rest of the Ancients. I mean sure, Dark Cacao’s color scheme has a lot of greys, but they’re purple tinted greys, and he does still have purples in his cape. But Pure Vanilla is made up predominantly of yellows with some white and brown, while his Soul Jam is blue

Granted I don’t think that’s an intentional character thing. I think it’s just because they had two Ancients with predominantly yellow color schemes, both of which couldn’t really change too much since that’s what their ingredients typically are, so one of them had to get a different colored gem if they wanted all the Soul Jams to be distinct in color. And you can’t really make blue the predominant color in a vanilla based Cookie, that just wouldn’t make sense. I mean sure, cacao isn’t really purple, but Dark Cacao has the black hair, and his purple leans more on the warm color side, which cacao usually is, so it isn’t as ludicrous a difference

I mean maybe they could have made his Soul Jam a reddish brown or white like Mystic Flour’s, but that’d break with the color schemes of the other Soul Jams, which are all bright, vibrant colors

And then aside from his color scheme, another thing I noticed is that the shape of his Soul Jam doesn’t really feature anywhere else in his design. Everyone else has this to some extent, with Dark Cacao’s diamond shoulder pads and crown, Hollyberry and Golden Cheese’s heart and triangle patterns, and even White Lily in that her dress is like an upside down fleur de lis. Pure Vanilla meanwhile, doesn’t really have the club anywhere

I can’t really give an explanation as to why, other than maybe the club symbol being hard to incorporate, but they were able to put White Lily’s symbol at least somewhere else on her design

Sorry, this pivoted after the first point, but I just wanted to add on more observations I made

[raptorrobot]

violent sun is back in business and better than ever baby !!!! get ready for a new and improved icarus with this introductory chapter <3

[velvetvisionsaurora]

Alpha ATEEZ x Assistant Omega Reader

Warnings: omega reader, alpha ateez, scenting, heats, ruts, slow burn, eventual smut, forced command, more to come!

When Y/n accepts a position as assistant to alpha K-pop group ATEEZ, she's prepared with professional skills and scent blockers to hide her omega status. What she's not prepared for is the immediate, inexplicable connection she feels with all eight members—a resonance that defies her careful boundaries.

As Y/n becomes eerily attuned to their needs, her suppressed omega nature begins to emerge: purring for the first time in years, responding to alpha growls, feeling safe in ways she never has before. When a protective incident reveals the depth of the members' attachment to her, Y/n must confront the possibility that what binds them together is something ancient and profound.

Author’s Note: okay so this fic has received so much love! I’m opening the Taglist back up!! Let me know if you want added! 💜

<<Previous Next>>

Masterlist Ko-Fi☕️

Chapter 7: Ripple Effect

The day had passed in a blur of activity, each hour packed with tasks from your meticulously reworked schedule. The morning vocal recording had stretched into early afternoon, followed immediately by dance practice where you'd watched from the corner, tablet in hand, coordinating with the production team via text while the members perfected their formations. The concept meeting had run later than planned, necessitating quick rearrangements for tomorrow's photoshoot.

By the time you all returned to the house, exhaustion hung heavy in the air. Dinner had been a quiet affair—takeout ordered on the way home, everyone too tired for much conversation. Even Wooyoung's usual animated energy had been subdued, his head occasionally nodding as he fought to stay awake at the table.

"Early night for everyone," Hongjoong had announced, his leader voice brooking no argument. "We need to be fresh for tomorrow."

You'd retreated to the guesthouse after helping clear away the takeout containers, intending to review the next day's schedule before sleep. But after thirty minutes of staring at your tablet, the words blurring together as fatigue weighed on your eyelids, you'd made a decision.

What you needed wasn't more work. What you needed was to clear your head.

The pool that connected the main house to your guesthouse had been tempting you for weeks now. You'd admired it daily but never found the time to actually use it, despite San's occasional reminders that it was there for everyone, including you. Tonight, with your muscles aching from tension and your mind still racing despite your exhaustion, a swim seemed like the perfect solution.

You put on the waterproof tape over your blocker an changed into the black bikini you'd brought from your old apartment but hadn't yet had occasion to wear. The simple two-piece was modest by most standards but still revealed more skin than any of the members had seen from you before. For a brief moment, you hesitated, wondering if you should opt for more coverage given the complex dynamics that had emerged recently.

"Don't be ridiculous," you muttered to yourself, dismissing the thought. "It's just swimming. They're professionals."

Besides, the house lights had been dimmed when you'd left, most of the members presumably already retreating to their rooms for the night. Chances were good you'd have the pool to yourself.

With a towel draped over your arm, you stepped out of the guesthouse into the warm evening air. The pool area was illuminated by soft underwater lights that cast rippling blue patterns across the stone deck. The sight of the still water, glowing invitingly in the darkness, confirmed you'd made the right decision.

You dropped your towel onto one of the loungers and approached the pool's edge, unaware that your solitary moment was about to be interrupted.

---

Wooyoung had been rummaging through the refrigerator, searching for the last yogurt drink he was certain he'd hidden behind Seonghwa's vegetable containers. His quest had brought him to the kitchen at precisely the moment you stepped out of the guesthouse and into the pool area visible through the large glass doors.

He froze, yogurt drink forgotten, as he caught sight of you walking toward the pool.

Seonghwa, who had been wiping down the kitchen counters before bed (a nightly ritual that the others teased him about but secretly appreciated), noticed Wooyoung's sudden stillness.

"What's wrong?" he asked, following Wooyoung's gaze toward the glass doors.

Wooyoung's voice came out strangled, barely above a whisper. "Hyung, I'm trying to be respectful, I promise, but Y/n is walking to the pool... in a bikini and—oh my stars, she has a spine tattoo. I think I'm going to pass out!"

The soft landscape lighting illuminated your figure, revealing the black bikini and, more startlingly, a delicate tulip tattoo that ran down your spine, its stem following the gentle curve of your back.

Seonghwa's immediate frown of disapproval quickly dissolved as his own eyes moved to the pool area. He had opened his mouth, presumably to chastise Wooyoung, but whatever reprimand he'd planned died on his lips as he caught sight of you by the poolside. A flush crept up his neck despite his best efforts to maintain his composed facade.

"We shouldn't be watching," he managed after a moment, though he made no immediate move to look away. The elegant line of the tattoo trailing down your spine had caught him by surprise—somehow both delicate and striking against your skin.

"Guys, have you seen my phone charger?" Yunho's voice preceded him into the kitchen, followed closely by San and Mingi. "I thought I left it—" He broke off as he registered Wooyoung and Seonghwa's frozen poses by the window. "What are you looking at?"

Before either could respond, Wooyoung gestured silently toward the pool, his expression a mixture of awe and something more intense. The three newcomers moved to the window as if drawn by magnetic force.

"Oh," Yunho said softly, his tall frame going perfectly still as he caught sight of you.

San let out a low whistle that earned him a sharp look from Seonghwa, though the eldest's reprimand lacked its usual conviction given the flush still evident on his own face.

Mingi said nothing at all, but his sharp intake of breath was audible in the suddenly quiet kitchen. His eyes followed your movements with an almost predatory focus as you tested the water with your toe.

"What is everyone looking at?" Jongho's curious voice joined the group, the youngest appearing in the doorway with Yeosang close behind. Neither waited for an answer before following their gazes outside.

Yeosang's usually impassive face registered genuine surprise, his eyes widening slightly before his natural reserve reasserted itself. Beside him, Jongho's reaction was less guarded—a visible gulp before he quickly averted his eyes, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks.

"This is inappropriate," Seonghwa finally said, though his voice lacked its usual authority. He looked to Hongjoong for support as the leader entered the kitchen, drawn by the unusual gathering. "We shouldn't be—Hongjoong!"

The sharp call of his name was necessary because even their leader, typically the most disciplined among them, had become momentarily transfixed by the sight of you slowly descending the pool steps, water rising around your waist as the blue lights illuminated your skin.

Hongjoong snapped back to attention at Seonghwa's call, his eyes clearing as if emerging from a trance. "Everyone back to what you were doing," he ordered, his voice low but commanding. "Now."

The alpha authority in his tone was enough to break the spell, sending most of the members reluctantly dispersing—though not without backward glances toward the pool.

"But hyung," Wooyoung protested, "I was just thinking I could use a swim too..."

He took a step toward the door, still fully clothed in his loungewear, but was immediately intercepted by Seonghwa, who grabbed his arm firmly.

"Absolutely not," Seonghwa hissed, pulling him back from the door. "She deserves privacy."

"I wasn't going to—" Wooyoung began indignantly.

"You were," San countered with a knowing smirk. "We all know you were."

Wooyoung deflated slightly, his mischievous grin acknowledging he'd been caught. "Fine. But can you blame me? Did you see that tattoo? A tulip! Right down her—"

"We all saw," Hongjoong interrupted, his voice carrying a warning edge that silenced Wooyoung immediately. "And now we're all going to respect her privacy and go back to our rooms."

"Some of us need to go take very cold showers," Mingi muttered under his breath, earning a sharp elbow from Yunho and a suppressed snort of laughter from San.

Seonghwa, having successfully prevented Wooyoung's pool expedition, turned to herd the remaining members out of the kitchen. "Go on, all of you. Early morning tomorrow, remember?"

As the others reluctantly filed out, Hongjoong remained by the window for a moment longer, his expression unreadable as he watched you swim a smooth lap across the pool. There was something almost pained in his gaze—a conflict between desire and restraint that echoed the complexity of the situation they all found themselves in.

"You too, Hongjoong-ah," Seonghwa said quietly, returning to find the leader still watching. "Whatever this is between all of us... we need to be careful."

Hongjoong nodded, finally turning away from the window. "I know. It's just—" He paused, struggling to articulate the feeling. "It's getting harder to remember why we're being so careful."

Seonghwa understood the sentiment all too well. What had begun as an inexplicable connection with their new assistant had evolved into something far more profound over these past weeks—a pull that defied professional boundaries and conventional explanation.

"Because she works for us," Seonghwa reminded him gently. "Because we don't fully understand what's happening. Because eight alphas and one beta is a complicated dynamic no matter how you look at it."

Hongjoong gave him a strange look at the word "beta," as if he wanted to say something but thought better of it. Instead, he simply sighed and moved away from the window. "You're right. Goodnight, Seonghwa."

As the kitchen emptied, silence settled over the main house, though the ripples from your simple decision to go for a swim continued to spread through the minds and hearts of eight alpha idols, each trying to process their reactions in the privacy of their own rooms.

---

The water felt heavenly against your skin, cool enough to be refreshing but not cold enough to be uncomfortable. You swam lazy laps, feeling the day's tension gradually melt away with each stroke. The silence of the night, broken only by the gentle lapping of water against the pool's edge, was exactly the reset your overstimulated mind had needed.

After fifteen minutes of swimming, you floated on your back, gazing up at the stars visible through the Seoul light pollution. The peaceful moment was interrupted by the distinct sensation of being watched. You tilted your head toward the main house, but the kitchen windows showed only darkness, the lights having been turned off at some point during your swim.

Shaking off the feeling, you decided you'd spent enough time in the pool. Tomorrow would be another full day of comeback preparations, and despite the rejuvenating effects of the swim, you still needed proper rest. You climbed out of the pool, water streaming from your skin as you reached for your towel.

As you dried off, you couldn't shake the lingering sensation that had prickled at the back of your neck—that brief, certain feeling of multiple eyes on you. Had the members seen you in the pool? The thought sent a flush of heat through you that had nothing to do with exertion or temperature.

You wrapped the towel around your waist and gathered your hair over one shoulder, wringing out the excess water. The night air felt cooler now against your damp skin, raising goosebumps along your arms. You hurried back to the guesthouse, suddenly self-conscious in a way you hadn't been before entering the pool.

Inside, you showered quickly to rinse off the chlorine, your mind still caught on the possibility that some—or all—of the members might have seen you swimming. What would they have thought of the tattoo? Most people were surprised to discover you had one, given your typically professional appearance. The delicate tulip that trailed down your spine was a reminder of your mother, whose favorite flower it had been. You'd gotten it on your twentieth birthday, a private symbol of connection to her that was rarely visible to others.

As you changed into your pajamas, your phone chimed with a message. You picked it up, expecting perhaps a schedule update from Minwoo, but instead found a text from.

Hongjoong: Everyone's meeting at 7:30 tomorrow instead of 7:00. Extra half hour of rest before the photoshoot. Make sure you take advantage of it too.

The thoughtfulness of the message warmed you, but you couldn't help wondering about the timing. Had he seen you at the pool and decided everyone needed more rest? Or was it simply his leader instincts kicking in after a long day?

You typed back a quick response:

I'll let everyone know. Thank you for the consideration.

After a moment's hesitation, you added:

The pool was perfect tonight. I should have been using it all along.

You hit send before you could overthink the addition, then immediately wondered if it was too obvious—if it somehow acknowledged the sensation of being watched that you couldn't quite dismiss.

Hongjoong's reply came faster than you expected:

Glad you enjoyed it. It's there for everyone to use. Sleep well, Y/n.

The neutrality of his response gave nothing away, but something about it still felt charged with unspoken meaning. You set your phone aside, trying to dismiss the overthinking that threatened to undo the relaxation your swim had provided.

As you settled into bed, you couldn't help but imagine how the members might have reacted if they had seen you—Wooyoung's dramatic commentary, Seonghwa's attempt at propriety, Mingi's intense gaze. The thoughts should have embarrassed you, but instead, they sent a flutter of something else entirely through your stomach—something dangerously close to anticipation.

Your hand drifted to the scent blocker behind your ear, the habitual gesture grounding you back in reality. Whatever was developing between you and the eight alphas under your care, it existed within boundaries—professional, practical, and self-protective. The blocker was a physical reminder of those boundaries, of the essential truth you kept hidden from them.

Yet as sleep began to claim you, your last conscious thought was to wonder how much longer those boundaries could hold against the tide of connection that grew stronger with each passing day.

---

The next morning

"Did anyone ever get me a coffee? I feel like I asked for coffee hours ago. Or was that in my dream?" Wooyoung's dramatic complaints filled the kitchen as you entered the main house at precisely 7:30, tablet in hand and ready for the day's packed schedule.

"If you want coffee, the machine is right there," Yeosang replied dryly, not looking up from his own mug.

"But it tastes better when someone else makes it," Wooyoung whined, before his eyes landed on you in the doorway. For a split second, something flashed across his expression—a reminder of whatever he might have seen last night—before his usual playful demeanor reasserted itself. "Y/n! Good morning! Have I mentioned lately that you're my favorite person in this household?"

"Not in the last twelve hours," you replied with a smile, setting your tablet down and moving toward the coffee machine. "Let me guess. One sugar, extra milk?"

"See?" Wooyoung exclaimed to no one in particular. "She remembers! This is why she's the best!"

You felt other eyes on you as you prepared Wooyoung's coffee—subtle glances from the members scattered around the kitchen and dining area. There was a different quality to their attention this morning, a heightened awareness that hadn't been there before. You mentally replayed your swim from the night before, wondering if the pool area was more visible from the house than you'd realized.

"Sleep well?" Hongjoong asked casually as you handed Wooyoung his coffee. The leader was reviewing something on his phone, his posture relaxed, but there was a careful neutrality in his tone that piqued your suspicion.

"Very well, thank you," you replied, equally casual. "The extra half hour was appreciated."

Seonghwa entered from the pantry with an armful of breakfast ingredients, his eyes meeting yours briefly before sliding away, a faint color rising to his cheeks. "Good morning, Y/n. Breakfast will be ready in about ten minutes."

"Can I help?" you offered, moving toward him.

"No need," he replied quickly—perhaps too quickly. "I've got it under control. You should sit and review the day's schedule with Hongjoong."

You nodded, returning to where you'd left your tablet, but not before catching the subtle glance Seonghwa exchanged with the leader—a look laden with meaning you couldn't quite decipher.

As you took a seat at the island, San sauntered in, his hair still damp from a shower. His eyes lit up when he saw you, a mischievous smile playing at his lips. "Good morning! Did you have a nice swim last night?"

The direct question confirmed your suspicions, heat immediately rising to your cheeks. So they had seen you. The question now was: how many of them, and how much had they observed?

"I did, actually," you replied, aiming for nonchalance despite your flushed face. "The pool was perfect after such a long day."

"I bet," San said, his smile widening as he caught Mingi's warning glare from across the room. "Water looked... inviting."

"It was," you confirmed, now certain that at least some of them had definitely watched you swimming. The realization should have mortified you, but instead, you felt a strange thrill at their collective attention—at the knowledge that they had seen a different side of you than the professional assistant they were accustomed to.

Jongho and Yunho entered the kitchen together, both pausing almost imperceptibly when they saw you before continuing to their usual seats. Jongho couldn't quite meet your eyes, a tell-tale blush coloring his cheeks despite his attempt at composure.

"The car for the photoshoot will be here at 8:45," you announced, deliberately changing the subject to safer, professional territory. "The concept team sent over the final wardrobe selections this morning, and they're excited about the underwater theme for the second set of photos."

"Underwater theme?" Wooyoung repeated, his eyes sparkling with barely contained mischief. "How appropriate, considering—"

"Considering the comeback concept focuses on transformation," Hongjoong smoothly interrupted, shooting Wooyoung a pointed look. "Water being a symbol of rebirth and change."

"Right, right," Wooyoung agreed, not looking remotely chastised. "Transformation. That's exactly what I was going to say."

You bit back a smile, focusing intently on your tablet screen. The dynamic in the room was charged with a new energy—playful but intense, like a shared secret hovering just below the surface of normal conversation.

"Before I forget," you said, remembering a detail from your morning emails, "the stylist wanted to know if anyone has a problem with using temporary tattoos? They’ll be featured in the concept photos. Apparently, they've adjusted some of the styling to include more revealed skin than originally planned."

The question landed in the room like a stone dropped in still water, ripples of reaction spreading visibly across eight alpha faces. San choked slightly on his orange juice. Mingi suddenly became intensely interested in the ceiling. Wooyoung's mouth opened and closed without producing sound.

"I don’t believe so," Hongjoong replied after a beat too long, his voice carefully controlled. "I think we’ve all suddenly become a fan of tattoos."

Yunho let out a frustrated groan and sat on the couch, earning a glare from Seonghwa. 

"Interesting choice of question," Yeosang observed quietly, his perceptive eyes studying your face. "Any particular reason you're asking about tattoos this morning?"

The deliberate prod confirmed what you'd already suspected—they had all seen you last night, including the tulip tattoo trailing down your spine that was normally hidden beneath your professional attire.

Two could play at this game.

"Just being thorough," you replied with an innocent smile. "After all, sometimes what a person shows to others might be different than what they truly feel. Best to be prepared."

The double meaning hung in the air, acknowledged in the slight widening of Yeosang's eyes and the muffled laugh Yunho tried to disguise as a cough.

Seonghwa, ever the peacekeeper, cleared his throat loudly. "Breakfast is ready. Everyone should eat quickly since we have a tight schedule today."

As the conversation shifted to more mundane topics, you caught Mingi watching you, his dark eyes intense in a way that sent a shiver down your spine—right along the path where your tattoo bloomed against your skin. When your eyes met his, he didn't look away. Instead, he held your gaze with deliberate focus, a silent acknowledgment passing between you.

They had seen you. All of you—not just the professional assistant who managed their schedules, but the woman beneath the polished exterior. The woman with a tattoo trailing down her spine and enough confidence to swim alone under the stars.

And judging by the charged atmosphere in the kitchen this morning, none of them would be forgetting the sight anytime soon.

As the meal progressed, Wooyoung cleared his throat dramatically, drawing everyone's attention. "I've been thinking," he announced, as if sharing profound wisdom.

"Dangerous," Yeosang muttered, earning a glare from Wooyoung.

"As I was saying," Wooyoung continued pointedly, "I think our Y/n needs a nickname."

Your eyebrows rose, immediately suspicious of where this might be heading. "A nickname? I think my name works just fine."

"No, no," Wooyoung insisted, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "We all have nicknames for each other. It's part of being in the group."

"I wasn't aware I was 'in the group,'" you countered, though the idea sent a pleasant warmth through your chest despite your wariness.

"Of course you are," San chimed in, clearly catching on to whatever Wooyoung was planning. "You've been with us for weeks now. You're practically family."

Wooyoung nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! And I've thought of the perfect nickname for you." He paused dramatically, his eyes locked with yours. "Tulip."

The simple word hung in the air, its implications immediately clear to everyone at the table. Heat rushed to your cheeks as several members suddenly became very interested in their breakfast. Hongjoong shot Wooyoung a warning look that went completely ignored.

"Tulip?" you repeated, your voice impressively steady despite the flush spreading across your face. "Any particular reason for that choice?"

Wooyoung's smile widened, the picture of false innocence. "They're elegant flowers. Delicate but strong. They have... interesting stems." His gaze flicked momentarily to your back, making his meaning unmistakable. "It suits you."

You could see his satisfaction at having flustered you—at the blush you couldn't control and the awkward silence that had fallen over the table. He thought he'd won this little game, pushing the boundaries of your professional relationship with his playful teasing.

But two could play at this game.

Something shifted in your demeanor as you made a split-second decision. Leaning forward slightly, you rested your chin on your hand and fixed Wooyoung with a gaze you knew was far from your usual professional look.

"Tulip," you repeated softly, letting the word roll off your tongue in a way that was almost a purr. "I like it. Especially coming from your lips, oppa."

The deliberate honorific coupled with your sudden shift in tone had exactly the effect you'd hoped for. Wooyoung's triumphant smile froze, his eyes widening as the tables turned. Around the table, you heard a few sharp intakes of breath.

Not stopping while you had the advantage, you continued, your voice dropping to a tone that walked the line between playful and seductive. "Are you saying you liked what you saw last night? My... interesting stem?"

Wooyoung's mouth opened but no sound emerged. The flush you'd been sporting moments ago was now mirrored on his face, spreading rapidly down his neck. From the corner of your eye, you could see Mingi gripping his chopsticks so tightly his knuckles had whitened, while Jongho seemed to have forgotten how to breathe entirely.

With a soft laugh, you broke the spell, rising gracefully from your seat and gathering your tablet. "Tulip it is, then. I think it has a nice ring to it." You glanced around the table, enjoying the collection of stunned expressions. "We should leave in twenty minutes if we want to arrive on time for the photoshoot. Don't be late."

As you walked out of the kitchen, you couldn't resist glancing back over your shoulder. Wooyoung remained frozen in place, his breakfast forgotten as he stared after you, looking like he'd been struck by lightning. San was doubled over in silent laughter beside him, while Seonghwa appeared torn between disapproval and reluctant amusement.

Hongjoong's eyes met yours across the room, something dark and appreciative in his gaze that sent a shiver down your spine—right along the path of the tattoo that had started this whole episode.

You left the kitchen with a smile playing on your lips, oddly invigorated by the exchange. Every time they thought they had you figured out, you found a way to surprise them. Professional assistant? Yes. But perhaps a bit more complex than they'd initially assumed.

Behind you, you heard Yunho's voice break the silence: "I think Wooyoung just short-circuited."

"Worth it," came San's delighted reply. "Totally worth it to see his face."

"Tulip is officially the most dangerous person in this house," Mingi added, his deep voice carrying an unmistakable note of admiration.

The new nickname—and what it represented—marked another shift in your evolving relationship with the eight alphas. Whatever game you were all playing, the rules were changing by the day, boundaries blurring even as the connection between you deepened.

Today's schedule would be demanding, the comeback preparations intensifying as the deadline approached. But beneath the professional responsibilities and practical tasks lay something deeper—a current of connection that continued to pull you all toward some unknown destination, one revealed truth at a time.

Next>>

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[pukefactory]

And idea i had (no it's not an oc I have shhhhhhh)

BBQ Ena x some type of deity reader, one with a strange fascination with the Ena species. Ever since they met Ena they haven't left her alone. No malicious intent, no ill will, hell sometimes Ena can't tell if they love her or just love her species. The reader sticks to their side like glue, and if she's being threatened...oh dear. The aggressors better hope they can leave alive. Or with whatever 'life' they have here.

(This is mostly based off my oc Seramoth, a Seraphim angel but a moth :DD ehe)

•☽────✧˖°˖ BETWEEN HEAVEN AND CODE ˖°˖✧────☾•

★ Summary: A Compilation Of Headcanons Salesperson ENA X Deity Reader Who Is Obsessed With Her Species

★ Character(s): Salesperson ENA (ENA: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

★ Image Credits: @casperlover

☆ ENA once caught you staring at her with your hands politely folded behind your back, chin tilted in that reverent, impossible way gods do when they’re politely considering whether or not to rework the laws of physics just for fun. “Are you… studying me?” she asked, Salesperson side flickering with something too awkward to be her usual sales smile. You nodded solemnly. “You are the most successful evolutionary expression of sacred contradiction I’ve ever seen. I am obsessed with you.” “…That’s weird,” her Meanie side grumbled, “But kind of on-brand, I guess.” You followed her for seven hours after that. You haven’t stopped.

☆ You once offered her a throne. Not metaphorically. A real throne. Carved from obsidian, drifting midair, softly humming the Gospel of Glitches. ENA took one look and said, “That doesn’t even match my shorts.” You nodded, quietly made it red and teal-striped. She still didn’t sit. You still haven’t blinked. And you won’t… not until she does.

☆ The first time someone tried to scam her in the casino, you appeared out of nowhere behind the con artist with a smile that broke seven mirrors in the room. ENA chuckled nervously, nudging you. “Whoa now, fellow entrepreneur. We don’t maim for bad deals. That’s… legally questionable.” You tilted your head. “Ah. Is that not the local custom?” She bought you a little manual on ‘mortal etiquette’ after that. You devoured it with a smile. Then you devoured the con artist anyway. Just the soul. Politely.

☆ When ENA finally worked up the courage to ask, “Do you actually love me… or do you just love my species?” you stopped moving for a solid ten seconds. A deity. Frozen. Then you said, “What a pitiful question… for someone who bleeds so beautifully.” Her Meanie side short-circuited. Her Salesperson side just said, “Okay that’s either very romantic or deeply concerning. Please clarify.” You didn’t. You just offered her a peach made of pure dreamdata. She ate it. You swooned.

☆ She found you once, curled up around a stone statue of an ancient ENA prototype in the Department of Melancholy. Your voice was a whisper: “They were the first to glitch. I remember their teeth. Their laughter.” ENA, not quite knowing what to do, crouched beside you. “I’ve got newer software.” You beamed like a dying star, touched her hair like you were blessing it. “Yes. And you’re still divine.” “Thanks,” she muttered, visibly confused. “…Do you, like, want to kiss me or—archive me in a museum?”

☆ If ENA gets even a paper cut, reality bends around her until you find her. “I’m fine!” she yells, holding up her mitt-hand like a stop sign. “It’s a paper cut! You do not need to resurrect the blood god of hygiene to smite the janitor!” You pause. “They bled you.” “It was an accident.” “They bled you,” your voice echoes through ten dimensions. “YOU FREAKIN’ NUTCASE!” her Meanie side shrieks. “PUT. THE RITUAL CIRCLE. DOWN!”

☆ When she first went into her cracked form—face bleeding, limbs phasing—your aura flared up in twelve colors not found in any known dimension. You hovered over her, whispering something older than Time into the bleeding lines. ENA blinked up. “Are you praying… to me?” “Of course,” you said. “If pain makes you a god, then I must learn to worship your suffering.” “STOP THAT,” her Meanie side screamed. “THAT’S NOT HOW BUSINESS HOURS WORK!”

☆ You tend to trail after her in silence, hands clasped behind your back, eyes gleaming like stars trapped in a jar. She once turned around, fully annoyed. “Do you do this to all ENAs?” “No.” “…Really?” “Most ENAs cannot survive proximity to me. You can. You’re resilient. I like that in a pet.” “I AM NOT A PET,” her Meanie side barked. “I’M AN AUTONOMOUS ENTITY WITH A JOB AND A MISSION AND-AND-AND… WHO EVEN ARE YOU?!” “…Your worshipper,” you say simply. Her Salesperson side giggles. “I think I need to file a harassment report.”

☆ When ENA asked what kind of deity you were, you said, “I am the Patron Saint of Beautiful Errors.” She laughed so hard she almost fell into a data void. “That… is the most me sentence I’ve ever heard,” she wheezed. You nodded, proud. “Then perhaps I was made for you.” “I don’t know whether to swoon or scream,” she muttered. “I think I’m doing both.”

☆ There was a time when ENA was cornered by a corrupted mannequin that wouldn’t back off. Her hands were twitching. Her Salesperson side tried to stay calm. “Look. Let’s… de-escalate. We can talk business—” The mannequin lunged. Then the sky split open. Your voice hit like thunder: “You touch her and I will render your code unto salt.” The mannequin shrivelled, reversed into non-being. ENA blinked. “…Did you just… smite them?” You nodded. “Okay but like… could you teach me how to do that?”

[mythalism]

something ive been thinking abt is how uncreative veilguard feels to me. in the writing and gameplay specifically. there is a lot of creativity in the environmental design for example and i dont wanna drag them into this. but like where is the writing creativity. especially when you were given one of the most interesting and unique pre-existing lore-rich fantasy worlds with 15 years of development to go off of. and they made it.... less creative? nothing is new or interesting or reinvents the wheel of fantasy or rpgs. or even comments on it the way old games made explicit commentary on the genre and what it meant to be a hero. lore that was previously unique to thedas gets dumbed down and simplified in favor of being explained as quickly and in as few words as possible because god forbid the player have to think. the CC is clearly a sims 4 rework. the combat is god of war. the UI is literally identical to the most recent assassins creed games. THE PUZZLES ARE PULLED RIGHT FROM GENSHIN IMPACT???? the once-distinct fantasy world of thedas is now generic high fantasy indistinguishable from any cash grab fantasy MMORPG from the past few years. i said once i hate emmrich's lichdom plot and i do. because liches have NEVER been mentioned before in the entire series. and now we suddenly have fucking liches. why? because fantasy worlds have liches. oh my god literally fuck off. its so embarrassing. there is nothing new and interesting. there is no preservation of the aspects that once made thedas unique. it was so clearly about what would sell the most copies. oh fantasy worlds have liches. people like fantasy worlds with liches right? we should put liches in dragon age. oh people like techno-futiristic fantasy nowadays, right? lets make the ancient elves suddenly have technology. what can we do to make sure we make money? what can we do to make sure people like this? does it make sense why the lichdom is a smoking gun for me. thedas doesnt have liches. it makes me feel insane. you have destroyed and betrayed your franchise for nothing considering how shit this game sold. this is exactly what that post was talking about with the difference between art and a product. its a product. its a product its a product its ap roducughrti perisi it sp sa pproddouc c ct t t

[iscdisc]

Real talk, I might rework this entire thing because I'm not in love with the poses right now- But do y'all see the vision? 👀🫶💛❤️ Lmao

(In case context is needed, this is about Raph and April having their mind control moments in the series ! Raph in S3 EP 16, "Clash of the Mutanimals" with one of Stockman's brain worms and April in S4 EP 22, "The Power Inside Her" with the ancient Aeon Za-Naron / even though I have my personal takes and reservations about that entire situation, but I digress- LMAO || Also I might do an additional drawing outside of Raphril featuring Karai, since she was also a victim of mind control / Stockman's brainworm- But I'm also wondering if I should add Donnie from S5? Since technically being turned into a vampire was a form of mind control too?? Idk- 😭)

[theseh00perscanh00p]

Par for the Heart: Part 11

paige x azzi

a/n: Okay so it's a lil short, sorry part 10 took a lot of brain power I'm not gonna lie lol. I was gonna post an even shorter version of this but woke up with some new inspiration so here it is. It's like 50/50 fluff to smut ratio on this one. Thanks to the anon with the idea hope you enjoy.

word count: 4.6k

"The Rhythm of Us"

It didn’t happen overnight.

There were no big declarations. No packed U-Hauls.

Just one moment at a time.

Day One: Closet Territory

Azzi came home from PT to find Paige elbow-deep in the back of her closet, old hoodies and half-folded gym clothes littered across the bed.

“Are we cleaning out skeletons or…?”

Paige peeked out from behind a row of hangers, flushed and focused. “I’m making space. For your stuff.”

Azzi blinked. “You’re… what?”

“You said your drawer was full. So I’m just—reworking the closet situation.” Paige held up one of her ancient crewnecks. “Like… do I need this vintage intramural bowling team sweatshirt?”

Azzi’s grin grew slow and fond. “You’re letting me take over your closet?”

“I’m making room,” Paige corrected. “You’re not taking over. It’s shared real estate now.”

Azzi walked forward, brushing a kiss to her temple. “You’re dangerously good at this whole girlfriend thing.”

Day Two: Packing the Old Life

On Saturday, Paige pulled into Azzi’s driveway with a trunk full of empty bins, her playlist softly humming a SZA deep cut.

Azzi stared at the bins. “You’re really gonna help me pack?”

Paige gave her a look. “Do you want to spend hours alone deciding which T-shirts are emotional support and which can be donated?”

Azzi laughed. “You’re right. I need emotional backup.”

They spent the afternoon sorting. Paige sat cross-legged on Azzi’s rug while Azzi held up items and told stories: this hoodie from a college championship, that pair of sneakers she wore to her first pro game.

Paige didn’t rush. She didn’t push.

She just kept asking: “Does this feel like something you want to bring into our home?”

And when they reached the kitchen, Paige carefully plucked the photo from the side of Azzi’s fridge—one from the day they met on the golf course candidly laughing together—and the heart magnet that had always kept it there.

She held it up. “This one’s coming too, right?”

Azzi nodded quietly. “Yeah. That one’s never staying behind.”

Day Four: Lowe’s & New Beginnings

It was Monday when Paige drove them to Lowe’s under the guise of “errands.”

Azzi side-eyed her when they bypassed every aisle except the key-cutting kiosk and the seasonal welcome mats.

“Subtle,” Azzi teased. “Really easing me into this domestic fantasy.”

Paige grinned, flipping through the mats. “Okay but hear me out—this one says ‘Welcome-ish. Depends who you are.’ That feels accurate, right?”

Azzi pointed to one that just said Home Is Wherever I’m With You. “Too on the nose?”

Paige read it twice. Then smiled softly. “Kind of perfect.”

As they waited for the guy to cut a second key, Paige placed the chosen mat under one arm and handed Azzi the freshly made key with a red heart on it.

Azzi turned it over in her hand. “So… this is really happening.”

“It’s already happened,” Paige said. “We’re just catching up.”

By the end of the week, Azzi’s sneakers were stacked next to Paige’s, her cereal box was in the pantry, and the photo and heart magnet were proudly fixed on the fridge like they’d always been there.

And one night, curled up on the couch with Azzi’s head in her lap, Paige watched their new doormat catch the last of the porch light through the open front door.

Home.

Together.

No question about it.

—-

The mornings had started to blur in the best way.

Not in chaos, not in stress — just in routine. Familiarity. A rhythm so smooth they barely had to speak to keep pace with each other.

Azzi was always the first one up. Not because she was a morning person, but because her body still woke her at 7 a.m. sharp whether she liked it or not. These days, she stayed in bed a little longer, scrolling, stretching, listening to the faint sounds of Paige’s breath beside her.

By 7:30, Paige would stir, eyes squinting open, her hand instinctively reaching for Azzi beneath the sheets.

“Coffee?” she’d mumble, already half asleep again.

“Already going,” Azzi would reply, leaning over to kiss her forehead before swinging her legs out of bed.

The kitchen was their shared dance floor.

Azzi moved slower these days, still a bit stiff post-surgery, but she had her groove back enough to putter around in Paige’s — now their — oversized hoodie and slide around in mismatched socks. Paige would join her ten minutes later, sleep-stunned and leaning against the counter like she hadn’t been awake for more than ninety seconds.

They didn’t talk much in the mornings. Just soft clinks of mugs and occasional hums from the playlist Paige always queued up — a rotation of soulful jazz and old-school R&B that made the whole house feel like a dream.

Somehow, without ever agreeing on it, they had their roles.

Azzi ran point on breakfast. Paige handled lunch. Azzi handled laundry. Paige took out the trash. Groceries were a team sport. So were Target runs. So were movie nights. So were late-night cravings for cookies and cereal at 2 a.m.

There was no learning curve. No awkward fights about drawer space or who left the lights on. It was like their lives had been quietly orbiting each other for years and had finally aligned.

And that was the part that scared them both a little — how easy it was.

Azzi leaned back against the counter one morning, sipping her coffee, watching Paige slice a banana to top their yogurt bowls. Her shirt was rumpled, hair a mess, and she was humming off-key to the song playing through the speaker.

Paige glanced up, catching her stare. “What?”

Azzi blinked. “Nothing.”

“You’re doing the staring in love thing again.”

Azzi smiled, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to Paige’s shoulder. “You say that like it’s a crime.”

“I mean,” Paige teased, setting down the banana, “you could at least pretend you’re not obsessed with me.”

“Nope,” Azzi said, smug now. “Fully obsessed. You’re doomed.”

Paige laughed and turned to face her fully. “If this is what doomed feels like, I’ll take it.”

There was a pause. A soft, still moment as they stood there in their kitchen, surrounded by post-it notes on the fridge, two half-full mugs, and a faint scent of cinnamon still lingering from last night’s late-night toast.

And just like that — they went back to breakfast.

Easy.

Uncomplicated.

Like it had always been this way.

—-

The gym was nearly empty, save for the thud of a medicine ball hitting the floor and the low hum of whatever playlist Paige had thrown on shuffle. It was mostly old-school hip hop with just enough bass to keep them moving — and maybe a little showing off.

Paige had arrived straight from her swing session, already warm and riding a high from her coach’s praise. Azzi was mid-rep when she walked in, while she powered through banded hip bridges like she had something to prove.

They exchanged a quick kiss, sweaty foreheads and all, before diving in.

It wasn’t long before the room felt more like their own personal playground.

“Form check,” Paige said from behind Azzi, watching her posture through the mirror as she attempted a modified deadlift with a dumbbell in one hand and a stubborn determination in the other.

Azzi groaned. “You’re obsessed with my form.”

“I’m obsessed with you not hurting yourself again.”

Azzi looked at her in the mirror, smirking. “You just like the view.”

“Not denying it,” Paige muttered, eyes fixed and appreciative.

The hour passed in circuits and teasing — Paige counting reps out loud while purposefully skipping numbers to confuse Azzi, Azzi lightly smacking her with a resistance band in retaliation. But through it all, they stayed in sync. The kind of sync that came from trust. Knowing how the other moved. When to push. When to rest.

Azzi was cooling down, stretching against the wall while Paige finished a final round of incline push-ups, when it hit her.

The clarity was so quiet it almost didn’t register at first. Just the way Paige’s brows furrowed in concentration. The tiny satisfied breath she let out at the end of each set. The casual way she tossed her towel over her shoulder and turned to Azzi with a wink.

There was no performance here. No curated version of love.

It was just them — tired, sore, flushed, and whole.

And suddenly Azzi felt it in her chest like a quiet knock.

This is what it’s supposed to feel like.

Not just the love. But the partnership. The steady hum of compatibility that made hard things feel easier. That made sweat and sore muscles feel like a date. That made even the silence between sets feel… full.

Paige walked over and flopped down next to her on the floor, breath heavy, loose hair damp at her temple. “You good?”

Azzi nodded, eyes soft. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

“Dangerous,” Paige teased, nudging her shoulder.

But Azzi didn’t laugh this time. She leaned in, pressed a kiss to Paige’s temple, and whispered, “You’re it for me, you know that?”

Paige stilled, surprised by the sudden seriousness. “Yeah?”

Azzi nodded. “You make the hard things feel lighter. The ordinary things feel bigger. The quiet things feel safe.”

Paige blinked, caught in the moment. “I didn’t even say anything this time.”

“You didn’t have to,” Azzi said. “You just… showed up.”

Paige smiled, reaching for her hand. “Well, good thing I’m not going anywhere.”

They sat there for a while on the rubber flooring, fingers intertwined, the sweat between them dried and replaced by something weightier — something sweeter.

Not a milestone.

Not a grand gesture.

Just a shared routine that somehow became proof of forever.

—-

They were tangled in bed, limbs wrapped, legs slotted between each other beneath the soft weight of the blanket. The glow of a bedside lamp cast a golden halo across Azzi’s bare shoulder as she lay half on top of Paige, tracing small shapes on her stomach with lazy fingers.

They’d been quiet for a while—quiet in that way only two people could be when the silence was full of safety, not space.

Then Azzi broke it, her voice a little hesitant but laced with curiosity.

“If I was a worm, would you still love me?”

Paige cracked an eye open, brow furrowing. “A worm?”

Azzi nodded seriously, though her lips were twitching. “Like—a little one. Real squiggly.”

Paige groaned, turning her head to bury it into the pillow. “Why are you like this.”

“You’re dodging the question.”

“I’d keep you in a compost bin and feed you strawberries,” Paige muttered dramatically. “But yeah, I’d still love you. Even as a worm.”

Azzi grinned. “Okay, good. Now… would you still love me if I was bald?”

That got Paige to look up. “Bald??”

Azzi lifted a brow, feigning seriousness. “Yes. No hair. What if I had a bad haircut and had to shave it all off and start from scratch? What if my edges were gone forever? What then?”

Paige blinked at her. “That’s so random.”

“It’s not! It’s valid!” Azzi argued, trying not to laugh. “I just wanna know if your love is follicle-deep or not.”

Paige propped herself up on an elbow, eyes soft. “Baby… you could be bald, blonde, or blue-haired, and I’d still be in love with you.”

Azzi let her smile bloom fully this time. “Even if I had, like… one of those mullets with lightning bolts shaved into the side?”

“Okay,” Paige said, hand raised. “Let’s not get carried away.”

Azzi snorted, then went quiet for a beat—still drawing patterns absently on Paige’s skin.

Paige noticed the shift. “What?”

Azzi looked up, meeting her eyes. “Nothing.”

“Az.”

Azzi hesitated, then said it—soft and low, almost like she was still testing the words.

“Would you… still love me if I wanted to try something in bed?”

Paige’s expression didn’t falter, but something in her settled. She tucked a strand of Azzi’s hair behind her ear and asked gently, “What kind of something?”

Azzi gave her a look. That mix of shy and bold she wore like no one else.

“It’s not like… weird or anything. I just… I’ve been thinking.”

Azzi hesitated, her eyes fixed on her hand as it lazily circled Paige’s navel. “Have you ever, like… scissored before?”

Paige blinked. Then blinked again.

“…Do I get to plead the fifth?” she said, cheeks already flushing with heat.

Azzi’s grin was immediate. “You totally have.”

Paige groaned, throwing a hand over her face. “It barely counts. It was a disaster. Like—clumsy naked bumper cars with bad steering. We got so frustrated we gave up and ordered Thai food instead.”

Azzi let out a loud laugh. “I can’t believe you just called it that.”

“It’s accurate.”

“Well…” Azzi’s voice dropped an octave, her grin softening into something more curious. “I’ve been thinking about it. Not in like, a porn-y way. Just… being that close. That open. All that skin. It’s kind of hot.”

Paige tilted her head, watching her. “You’ve never tried?”

Azzi shook her head, a blush creeping in. “No. But I want to. With you.”

Something in Paige melted. She cupped the back of Azzi’s neck and pulled her in for a slow kiss—deep, tender, laced with promise.

“Then let’s find out,” she whispered.

Paige shifted onto her back, and Azzi followed, crawling over her, straddling her thigh with a nervous but eager glint in her eyes.

“Like this?” she asked, her slick center barely grazing Paige’s.

“Closer,” Paige murmured, gripping her hips. “I want to feel all of you.”

Azzi adjusted, lowering herself until their cores met—warm and wet and shivery. The contact made both of them gasp.

They started slow. Tentative rolls of the hips. Gentle friction. Azzi’s breath caught as they aligned just right, her clit brushing against Paige’s in a glide that sent a pulse straight through her spine.

Paige groaned, her hands anchoring Azzi tighter. “Oh, fuck. Just like that.”

They rocked together, rhythm syncing, laughter fading into soft moans and breathless gasps. Azzi’s movements grew bolder, more desperate as the friction built—a sweet, aching heat that curled in her belly and stole her breath.

“Oh—Paige—fuck—”

Her head fell back, jaw slack, thighs starting to tremble as pleasure surged higher, hotter, sharper. Paige was watching her like she was witnessing something sacred.

Then Azzi’s whole body arched forward with a strangled cry, her orgasm crashing over her—wetness flooding between them, soaking skin, thighs, the sheets beneath.

She froze.

Paige stared up at her, dazed. “Wait. Did you just—?”

Azzi’s face went crimson. “I didn’t mean to—I didn’t know I could—oh my God—”

Paige’s hands locked around her hips, holding her there. “Don’t you dare move. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Azzi tried to squirm away. Paige wouldn’t let her.

“Nope. You’re not escaping. Not after that. I need to see it again. Feel it.”

Azzi’s breath stuttered. “What are you—”

Paige was already shifting down, sliding between Azzi’s thighs with purpose.

“I want you to come on my mouth this time.”

Azzi whimpered, her body already oversensitive and desperate. Paige guided her up, positioning her above her face.

Azzi hesitated. “What if I—”

“I want all of it,” Paige growled, voice thick with hunger. “Drip for me, baby.”

The second her mouth met Azzi’s clit, Azzi broke.

Her hips jerked, breath hitched. Paige moaned into her, tongue circling, sucking, devouring her like she was starved. Her hands gripped Azzi’s ass, grounding her, pulling her in deeper.

Azzi was shaking, crying out, hips grinding harder with every pass of Paige’s tongue.

And when Paige sucked just right—deep and slow and greedy—Azzi shattered again.

A tidal wave of release rushed out of her, coating Paige’s mouth, her chin, her throat. Azzi nearly collapsed, limbs giving out as her orgasm rolled through her in tremors.

Paige was wrecked beneath her—lips glossy, face drenched, eyes alight with awe.

“Holy fuck,” she whispered. “I’m in love. And so, so wet.”

Azzi was still panting, dazed, barely able to speak. “You’re… insane.”

Paige grinned, licking her lips. “And you, Azzi, are a work of art.”

Azzi was still catching her breath, sprawled across the sheets with her head resting on Paige’s shoulder. Her body was warm and limp, skin flushed, thighs still twitching occasionally from the aftershocks.

Paige looked equally wrecked—lips swollen, face glistening, hair mussed beyond repair. But her hand hadn’t stopped moving—grazing over Azzi’s hip, then dipping lower to trace along her still-sensitive inner thigh.

Azzi whimpered. “Paige…”

“What?” Paige said, innocent as sin. “I’m just touching.”

“You’re touching like you’re about to start something.”

“I am,” Paige said, voice low, teasing. “You said you’d never done that before. We’re celebrating. Science says repetition improves retention.”

Azzi snorted, even as her breath caught when Paige’s fingers drifted between her legs again. “You’re ridiculous.”

Paige turned her head, kissed Azzi’s temple, then her cheek. “Mmhm. And you’re still soaked. You feel that?”

Azzi whimpered again as Paige’s fingers dipped into the wet heat between her legs, slow and lazy. “Paige—”

“You can take one more,” Paige whispered, voice darkening. “Just one more. Let me make it messy.”

Azzi let out a shaky breath. “I’m already—so sensitive—”

“I know,” Paige said, dragging her fingers up to circle her clit in featherlight strokes. “That’s why it’s gonna be so fucking good.”

Azzi tried to resist—tried to stay still—but her hips had a mind of their own, grinding into Paige’s hand with a need that bloomed fast and hot. She bit her lip hard, eyes fluttering shut.

Paige’s touch stayed gentle at first, coaxing her open again, drawing small circles until Azzi was panting into her neck. “That’s it,” Paige murmured, nipping at her ear. “Let me feel you come on my hand.”

She slid two fingers in—slow, deliberate. Azzi arched into her with a gasp, nails digging into Paige’s arm.

Paige curled her fingers just right. “Fuck, yes. That’s the spot, isn’t it?”

Azzi couldn’t answer—her moans were spilling too freely now. Paige worked her open, fingers slick and sure, her thumb rubbing tight, dirty circles over her clit.

“I love how you fall apart for me,” Paige breathed, speeding up just enough to send Azzi spiraling. “So sexy like this, Az. Begging without even realizing it.”

Azzi’s legs started to tremble again, thighs clenching around Paige’s hand. “I’m close—I’m so—oh God—”

“That’s it, baby. Give it to me. Let go.”

And Azzi did—her third orgasm ripping through her with a strangled cry, her whole body bucking, hips grinding down hard as Paige fucked her through it, relentless and tender all at once.

Azzi collapsed again, completely undone—sweat-slick and gasping, legs twitching, her cheek pressed to Paige’s chest as she tried to breathe through the comedown.

Paige slowly slipped her fingers out, bringing them to her mouth with a hum of satisfaction. “You taste like victory.”

Azzi weakly slapped her side. “You’re the worst.”

“You love it.”

“Unfortunately,” Azzi mumbled, eyes closed. “You’re never allowed to leave this bed.”

“Deal,” Paige said, curling her arm around her. “But if we’re trapped here, I’m gonna need hydration… and maybe snacks between orgasms.”

Azzi opened one eye. “Between?”

Paige smirked. “We’re only at round three.”

Azzi groaned. “I created a monster.”

Paige kissed her shoulder. “No, baby. You unleashed her.”

And just like that, Azzi was grinning again—even as her thighs ached and her body trembled—because with Paige, even exhaustion came with a promise of more.

And neither of them was close to done.

Paige was lying there smug and satisfied, her arm draped lazily around Azzi’s waist, the scent of sex and sweat thick in the air. Her lips were still wet from Azzi’s last orgasm, and she looked like she could stay in that blissed-out daze forever.

Azzi let her.

For a minute.

Then, slowly, she started tracing a single finger along the slope of Paige’s ribcage, dragging her nails just lightly enough to make Paige twitch.

Paige glanced down. “What are you doing?”

Azzi didn’t answer. She just smiled—mischievous and dangerous—and slipped her thigh between Paige’s legs, nudging gently.

Paige’s breath caught. “Az…”

“You’ve been real generous tonight,” Azzi murmured, kissing her collarbone. “But I want to see you come undone.”

Paige opened her mouth to respond—but whatever she was going to say disappeared when Azzi slid her hand down her stomach and cupped her, fingers pressing into the soft heat between her thighs.

“You’re soaked,” Azzi whispered, lips brushing Paige’s ear. “You’ve been dripping for me this whole time.”

Paige whimpered, her hips shifting instinctively into Azzi’s touch. “You’re not playing fair.”

“I’m not playing at all,” Azzi said, voice low and dangerous.

Before Paige could recover, Azzi slid down her body, kissing her way lower—over her breasts, pausing to take one nipple into her mouth, sucking hard until Paige gasped and arched up into her.

Then lower still.

When she reached Paige’s thighs, Azzi didn’t rush. She kissed the inside of one, then the other, holding Paige open with strong hands and looking up with eyes full of heat.

“I want to ruin you,” Azzi said softly.

Paige groaned, head falling back. “God, please.”

Azzi grinned—and then her mouth was on her.

Hot, wet, relentless.

She licked from bottom to top, flat and slow, before circling Paige’s clit with the tip of her tongue—teasing, maddening. Paige’s hands immediately shot down to Azzi’s hair, hips jerking up as she moaned deep and broken.

Azzi kept going.

Sucking.

Licking.

Fucking her with her tongue.

Paige was panting, her whole body tightening. “Shit—Azzi—don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop—”

Azzi didn’t. If anything, she doubled down—gripping Paige’s hips, pulling her closer, fucking her deeper with every stroke of her tongue. She moaned into her, letting the vibration reverberate through Paige’s core.

It worked.

Paige was spiraling—hips bucking, thighs clamping around Azzi’s head, words dissolving into helpless cries. Her orgasm slammed into her fast and hard, stealing the air from her lungs.

But Azzi didn’t let up.

She kept going—eating her through it, over it, into it—until Paige was thrashing, another wave already building behind the first.

“Azzi—fuck—I can’t—oh my God—”

“Yes you can,” Azzi growled, voice dark and wrecked, fingers now sliding inside her—deep and slow and intentional. “You’re gonna give me one more. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers while you come on my tongue.”

Paige was gone.

Utterly undone.

Her second orgasm crashed through her with a scream, legs trembling, body thrashing so hard Azzi had to hold her down. She came hard—wet and raw and loud, until she collapsed back into the bed, boneless and dazed.

Azzi finally pulled back, mouth and chin drenched, eyes blazing.

She crawled back up, straddling Paige’s hips, dragging her fingers through the mess between them and bringing them to Paige’s mouth. “Taste how fucking good you are.”

Paige sucked her fingers in with a moan, dazed and glassy-eyed. “You’re a menace.”

Azzi leaned down, kissing her slow and deep, tongue slipping past her lips.

“No,” she whispered against her mouth. “I’m yours.”

Paige shuddered.

And smiled.

“Okay,” she said weakly. “But I need like… eight to twelve business days to recover.”

Azzi laughed, pulling her into her chest. “You’ve got twelve hours. Then I’m going again.”

Paige groaned. “You’re going to kill me.”

“Nah,” Azzi murmured, kissing her hair. “I’m just gonna keep loving you until you can’t see straight.”

—-

The morning sun was already creeping in by the time Paige finally cracked an eye open. Her body ached in that deliciously sore kind of way — muscles used, knees bruised, and thighs definitely still shaking a little. She rolled onto her back with a groan, one arm flopping over her eyes.

From the bathroom, the sound of a toothbrush being halfheartedly wielded echoed out.

“You alive in there?” Paige called hoarsely.

Azzi’s laugh was scratchy. “Barely. My legs are mad at me. You should be arrested.”

“I told you to tap out.”

“You said that after round four!”

“Exactly.”

Azzi emerged a minute later, her curls piled into a loose bun, one of Paige’s oversized tees hanging off her frame. She limped dramatically to the bed, flopping down beside her.

“You owe me breakfast and electrolytes,” she mumbled.

“You said, and I quote, ‘I’m an athlete, I can handle it.’”

“I also said I’d marry you if you hit that one spot again and you did so, like… you’re stuck with me now.”

Paige smirked, turning on her side to nuzzle into Azzi’s shoulder. “Noted.”

They lay there quietly for a while, sore and content, scrolling and occasionally stealing sips from each other’s water bottles.

Then Azzi rolled her head lazily toward her. “You know… if either one of us had a dick, we’d probably be pregnant right now.”

Paige burst out laughing. “Oh my god. Probably.”

“That was a full-blown Olympic marathon. We would’ve made twins.”

“Triplets,” Paige said, grinning. “Our legacy would be secure.”

Azzi snorted. “Not us having a starting five by accident.”

The joke passed between them like warm sunlight.

But Paige didn’t laugh again right away. She stared at the ceiling for a beat, lips pressing into a thoughtful line.

Azzi noticed.

“Hey,” she said softly. “What’s that face?”

Paige hesitated, then turned onto her side again, facing Azzi. Her fingers found the edge of Azzi’s shirt and toyed with it absently.

“I know we joke about it,” she said quietly. “The kids thing. But… I’ve always known that’s something I want. For real.”

Azzi blinked, caught slightly off guard by the sudden seriousness. Paige’s eyes searched hers.

“I’m not saying tomorrow or anything,” Paige added quickly. “But one day. I want a family. A house with too many shoes by the door. Chaos. Mornings that start early and never go to plan. I want that. And I think… I needed to ask if you want it too.”

Azzi was quiet for a long moment. Not because she was unsure — but because the weight of how much this meant to Paige was written all over her face.

Then, slowly, she reached out and took Paige’s hand.

“I do,” she said softly. “I want that too.”

Paige’s breath hitched.

Azzi squeezed her fingers. “I’ve thought about it. Even before us. I just… never imagined I’d feel safe enough with someone to even say it out loud. But with you? It’s the first time it feels possible. Like it could actually work. Like we’d make it work.”

Paige blinked fast. “You’re sure?”

Azzi smiled. “I’m sure. Though I will need a minimum of three years to mentally recover from last night’s trauma before raising children.”

They both laughed — a mix of nerves and joy and sheer relief — before Paige leaned in and kissed her slow and deep.

When they broke apart, Azzi rested her forehead against Paige’s. “You really thought I’d say no?”

Paige nodded a little. “I did. And I would’ve… figured it out. But it would’ve broken my heart.”

“Well,” Azzi whispered, “lucky for you… your heart is very much intact. And definitely overachieving.”

Paige beamed.

“Also,” Azzi added, “we are the hot moms at the school pick-up. It’s kind of a requirement.”

“Oh 100%. PTA moms will hate us. We’ll love that.”

“And our kids will definitely lie and say you used to be in the Olympics.”

Paige laughed into her neck. “I mean… it could still happen.”

Azzi pulled her close again, wrapping both arms around her.

It wasn’t a proposal. It wasn’t a date set. But it was a promise — a shared daydream now fully spoken into existence.

And that was enough. For now.

[burningcheese-merchant]

How did pepper jack learn to fly and what relationship does he have with the other ancients and beasts ?

MORE QUESTIONS HIHI <3

Golden Cheese did most of the work. High Priest Cheesenbird + the other cheesebirds showed/explained what they could, but it all made more sense coming from his mother (a fellow winged person, not just a regular bird) than anyone else. She started teaching him when he was very young (just waited for him to master walking first haha), primarily by having him jump down from ledges or such elevated places and try to catch the wind with his wings as he fell. Very small and short jumps until he got comfortable with them, then bigger ones, then bigger ones, until he was swan diving off of buildings... Eventually he became a master of flight just like she is. It really is as easy as breathing to him now. (He was scared of falling and hurting himself at first, (which he did a few times, it was inevitable. But GC was always there to supervise and help when needed), but he was nevertheless a quick learner.)

Not that Papa didn't try to do anything, though.

Burning Spice could never do much because he doesn't have wings of his own. He's grounded. What he figured he could do to help is have Pepper Jack try to fly up and perch on his arm/shoulder on command. Make him exercise his wing muscles by having him lift himself off the ground. Rising instead of falling. (He first thought of chucking Jack off the roof and having him fly back up from all the way down there, but GC threatened him with divorce (violence wasn't a good enough threat, he's used to that) if he threw their baby boy from the roof of the palace, so he reworked the concept into something less... unfortunate.)

He actually did start doing that when Jack was older and already a fully competent flier. They do it for fun. Spice picks Jack up and throws him as hard and fast and far as he can, from the highest floor of the tallest building around, and Jack flies all the way back to him. Then Spice picks him up and does it again. They just call it playing "boomerang". GC doesn't understand the appeal, but as long as Jack can handle himself and doesn't get hurt (which was her one concern honestly)...

As for the second half of your question... I want to answer it more fully (read: with more doodles) in another post, but to give the short version: Jack gets along well with the other Ancients and (former) Beasts. He loves his aunts and uncles very much. (But... he secretly favors Dark Cacao + Shadow Milk and Silent Salt. Not by too big of a margin though. Shhhh)

[vcreatures]

 Reworking of my original Primordial Mother

The Primordial Mother is an example of a living mythos; A maid that is of corporeal and faith. She is seen as both giver and taker. Mother and monster of the cosmic deep. A behemoth of the abyss, she is the leviathan of the mermaid world. 

While many mermaid species don’t possess culture or what would be deemed as such. There are species who do in fact display a sentience, a self awareness and with that a seeming spirituality. In some species of mermaids it appears as though the Primordial Mother is revered as a Goddess figure.

Aside from her spiritual connection to certain mermaid species, it is believed that this specie is in fact the ancient progenitor of all mermaid species. Offerings, effigies, and carvings have been exhibited depicting this colossal maid and were the first things seen of this mysterious God. It was once believe to be purely religious iconography. It wasn’t until much later that the existence of Primordial Mother was confirmed. It is not known if she is aware of her divinity status. 

While not agreed upon, it is believed that there is only ever one Primordial Mother at one time. The species is entirely comprised of males except for her. Males of the species will search the ocean depths to find her. Forming large harems. Many will never find a female Primordial Mother in their lifetime. When the Primordial mother dies, the largest, most dominant male within the harem with undergo a metamorphosis taking her place. Some speculate that there are many, though fewer in number, Primordial mothers. It is not known if this concept of a single mother is purely symbolic albeit believed by mermaid species. Regardless, the Primordial Mother inhabits such depths much of their life will remain a mystery. 

[rogdona]

I want to pet your ocs

Also you don't have to but have you tried to draw a dragon?

GO AHEAD AND LET MY BLOG BE UR PETTING ZOO!!!💕💕💕💕💕 as for dragons my boy deseo over here is a wish granting dragon and i have another dragn oc but im wanting to rework that one a bit, i also rlly like the classical dragons as wise ancient super smart creatures thing so i might make one like that someday too JDFHHD

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Cauldron of the Reborn: Escape from Black Castle

a fanwritten Halloween event

summary: when Malleus receives an invite from a distant relative to a historic castle in Briar Valley, he can't refuse characters: malleus, lilia, sebek, silver, vil, rook, epel, jamil, kalim additional info: reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

well... by popular demand, here's more of this! I may rework the first one in the future idk. and add a prologue. coughs

prologue / chapter one / chapter two

taglist: @whatever-fanfics @chloemari-e @frog-fans-unite @sugar-sprinkles

Diasomnia Lounge - Day

"Are you sure about this?"

Lilia pats Silver's head and floats over to Malleus, taking steps over the air like he would on solid ground.

"If I may remind you, I looked after the young prince long before you two were around. One weekend is but the blink of an eye!" the elder fae says. "Someone needs to stay behind and oversee the dorm's Halloween preparations, anyhow."

Sebek shifts uncomfortably. Silver sighs.

"...You're right. I just... I have a bad feeling about this,"

Lilia grins, his fangs pressing into his lower lip. "Khee hee. How chivalrous of you, Silver. But I assure you, with both myself and Malleus, there's little that could stand against us... should the occasion arise. You know that."

Another sigh. "...I do. I just suppose I would feel better if it wasn't only the two of you,"

"He makes a point," Malleus says, closing a suitcase. "The invitation did specify I may bring along an entourage of my choosing."

"That's not really what I-"

"Now there's an idea!" Lilia chimes. "A weekend getaway with friends. Malleus, is there anyone you'd like to bring along?"

Malleus holds his chin between his fingers and thinks.

Then, he smiles.

Ramshackle - Day

"Me?"

"Us?" Grim says, giving Malleus an unamused look, paws on his hips.

Malleus nods, a proud smile on him. Lilia stands behind him, leafing through an ancient leatherbound book as if it were a travel guide.

"Yes. I am permitted to invite any guest of my choosing, and I choose you," Malleus says.

"And, in return, you may invite any of your own friends."

You think for a moment, standing in Ramshackle's door, Grim tugging on your sleeve and whining for breakfast.

"...What do you think?" you ask the direbeast at your feet.

He sighs. "Will there be food?"

"The invitation does specify good food, yes. I imagine there will be a banquet waiting for us upon our arrival," Lilia chimes in.

Grim's pout turns into a grin, his tune changing completely. "Why didn't 'ya say so? We're in,"

Malleus beams as you scoop Grim up in your arms. But who else to invite...?

Heartslabyul Lounge - Day

"Nah, we're on Halloween duty. Housewarden's orders,"

Ace smacks Deuce upside the head and whispers loudly in his ear: "Dude! They didn't need to know that!"

You look between the two of them as they bicker. Trey passes behind them, carrying a stack of dirty dishes. He smiles.

"Sorry, Prefect, but Deuce is right. They royally failed Trein's last exam and Riddle is keeping them on dish duty as punishment. And speaking of-"

He dumps the dishes in Ace's arms, the weight of the stack nearly toppling him over.

"-And there are more in the kitchen."

Savanaclaw Lounge

Jack scratches the side of his head. "I'd, uh... I'd love to, but Leona's got us all doing extra Spelldrive practice, so..."

"Bring us back some souvenirs and food, will ya?" Ruggie calls from behind you.

Ignihyde Hall

"A Halloween trip? How exciting!" Ortho chimes. "The search I just performed shows only thirty five results for a remote county of Briar Valley- this may be an excellent exercise in data gathering!"

You and Grim exchange smiles.

"So you'll come?" the direbeast says.

"Sure!

...If Idy comes!"

Both of your grins immediately fall. Before any of you can get another word in, Idia's voice comes from within the depths of the room behind you.

"Uh- what? Nuh-uh. No way. No internet for a weekend? No way,"

Ortho gives you both a sympathetic look. "Sorry, guys. Maybe next time,"

Pomefiore Lounge

Epel looks between the two of you, his hands on his hips and his eyelids lowered.

"Busy?" he repeats the word dryly. "Busy."

You shrug. "Everyone's busy. It is Halloween weekend,"

"And it might not've occurred to 'ya that they're not so busy as much as they don't wanna go to a remote, secluded part 'a Briar Valley with Malleus Draconia?"

You and Grim share a look. Oh.

"Well..." you look back at Epel. "Do you wanna come?"

"What kinda question is that?!"

You feel something gently brush against your side, and then a cool, collected voice.

"Excuse m- oh, Prefect. What are you doing here?" Jamil asks, breezing into the room.

"We were just 'talkin," Epel mutters. "You-"

"Kalim left his wallet here yesterday," Jamil sighs. "He's lucky it was this dorm. Does Vil keep a place for lost items?"

"Just down there,"

"Thank you," he says, and disappears down the hall.

You turn back to Epel. "Are you sure you don't want to come? I'm allowed to bring anyone I want."

He shakes his head. "Even if I wanted to, Vil would never allow me to go unchaperoned,"

"Unchaperoned?" a voice says from behind you.

Both you and Epel jump, and Grim skitters away in surprise. Lilia's light laughter follows, and he rests an elbow on Epel's shoulder.

"Khee hee. My apologies, I couldn't help myself. Now what's this about Schoenheit thinking you'd be "unchaperoned"?"

Epel huffs, still flustered from the surprise, and Grim pathetically crawls back to you, his fur bristled.

"I just don't think he'd be keen on letting me off on vacation for a weekend with no one 'ta look after me,"

"Did the Prefect not specify that I will be "chaperoning" this trip?"

"They did," he puts his hands back on his hips. "Vil wouldn't trust 'ya with watching a sack 'a flour for a weekend."

"I don't blame him," Jamil says, returning with a wallet in hand.

"Khee hee. How cruel. I'll have you know I'm an excellent babysitter,"

You look between the three as they go back and forth. This is getting you nowhere.

Epel crosses his arms. "What's the deal with this place, anyway?"

"The deal?" Lilia repeats, hands on his hips. "Is the promise of a weekend at an ancient castle with no internet, electricity, running water, or heat not exciting enough for you?"

Epel stares blankly.

"...Khee hee. Fair enough. The deal, my dear underclassmen, is that this castle is related to a popular children's bedtime story from Briar Valley, one of the only to feature magicless human heroes."

You turn to look at him, your own interest suddenly piqued. "What?"

Lilia looks back at you with a fanged grin, and then he makes himself comfortable on one of the fancy couches in the lounge.

"Gather round, gather round, children. This is an old story, an ancient story, which predates the Thorn Fairy herself by hundreds of years...

Long, long ago, in the land of Cymur, now a small county in Briar Valley, there was a king. He was a distant relative of the Thorn Fairy, but you wouldn't have known- he was greedy and cruel, and sought to conquer the land with an army of the undead. His reign was ended, however, by three unlikely heroes: a farmhand who became a great warrior, a scullery maid who became a powerful mage, and an unlucky minstrel who became a beloved poet. And their fuzzy, hungry direbeast companion, of course,"

A silence follows. Though not one of you would have admitted it, you had all become rather captivated by the story. Everyone waits for Lilia to continue. He hums and picks at his black nail polish.

"...Well?" Jamil finally speaks, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

"Well what?"

"Whaddya mean well, what?" Epel says. "You aren't gonna tell us the rest? How did the farmhand become a warrior?"

"And how does a scullery maid become a powerful mage?" Jamil follows.

"And whaddabout the direbeast?" Grim tugs at Lilia's loose sleeve. "I bet he saved the day, didn't he?"

Lilia's lips quirk into a smile, and he crosses his legs.

"Hmm... it appears I can't recall. I suppose you'll just have to find out on the trip,"

Everyone lets out a collective groan, and Lilia giggles into the palm of his petite hand.

Epel jumps to his feet, a frown on his lips. "Vil will never let me go, 'ya know that? Never!"

"Please, no shouting in the lounge. We've discussed this," a cold voice comes from behind him.

Epel goes pale and stiff, not unlike a corpse, and Vil rolls his eyes.

"Might I inquire what this little gathering is about? I can't seem to recall giving permission to hold club meetings in my lounge."

Lilia waves him off, unflinching under his cold glare. "Oh, just chitchat about our trip,"

"Your trip?"

Epel turns to Lilia with wide eyes, shaking his head quickly, but Lilia goes on anyway.

"Why, of course! Prince Malleus has invited Epel to join him on an educational trip to Briar Valley!"

Vil raises an eyebrow. "Malleus invited him? Personally?"

You open your mouth to speak, but can't get further than a quiet "Not exac-" before Lilia confirms.

"Hmph," Vil says, shifting his weight from one hip to another. "I see. Well, if the Housewarden invited you, it would be rude to decline."

Epel lights up as if he had just won a golden ticket, and then-

"Of course, Rook will have to accompany you. I wouldn't dream of sending you without proper supervision,"

"Wh- Rook?"

"Bonsoir!" Rook chimes behind all of you, as if summoned by the mere sound of his name. You and Epel flinch. Vil rolls his eyes.

"Yes. I'm far too busy with the event preparations to go myself... I also do not want to. Rook, however-"

"It would be my honor and privilege to discover the hidden beauties of a mysterious and isolated land with my own hands and eyes!"

Epel goes whiter than the delicate lace of his blouse.

"It's settled, then. We're leaving midday tomorrow, don't be late!" Lilia says, hopping up. "And Jamil, shall we be expecting you?"

The second year scoffs, as if uninterested, though he had sat through the entire story and ensuing discussion without moving from his place against the wall.

"No. I have to see to Kalim's relatives over the weekend. I won't have a moment to spare,"

"How unfortunate," Lilia sighs. "But I suppose our little Pom Duo will please Malleus enough."

Rook cheers a faint yay! and Epel groans.

Mirror Chamber - Morning

"Ready, all?"

You hold your small suitcase close to your side, tucked neatly under your arm. Mirror travel is short but rough at such distances. "I am,"

"Oui!'

"As I'll ever be,"

"Certainly," Malleus nods. "I've been looking forward to this all night. I could hardly sleep."

Calm and collected as he is, his excitement is unmistakable- at least for Lilia, who smiles.

"Alright! We'll go as far as we can by mirror, and the rest by carriage and foot, so make sure you have water and snacks,"

"Worry not, Monsieur Curiosité!" Rook chimes. "I have brought more than enough nuts and seeds for everyone!"

Epel mutters "Vil's diet snacks" to you, and you nod.

"Khee hee, I should have expected as much from Pomefiore's vicewarden. Then we're off-"

"Wait!"

Everyone turns to the mouth of the chamber. The sound of hurried footsteps on stone comes before a panting Jamil Viper, suitcase in hand.

Lilia grins. "Changed your mind?"

Jamil answers that with a glare.

"Someone told Kalim of the trip, and he ordered me to take the weekend off. Of all the ridiculous things..."

"Khee hee. Isn't that unfortunate?"

Another glare. "At least his family's security will be around. I only worry for the state of the dorm after he hosts them for the weekend..."

"Oh, I'm sure it'll be fine. Kalim's a bright boy!" Lilia says. Malleus gives him an odd look, but doesn't comment.

"Now that we're all accounted for- shall we?"

[solaquintette]

A Feminist Reading of Junko Touhou

The following is a slightly reworked thread I posted to the Everything App last year, using Euripides' Medea as a device to explore how Junko Touhou (from Touhou) subverts our expectations of stories of women seeking revenge.

One of the reasons I adore Junko and why her story features so heavily in my art is because of how she subverts the typical portrayal of female rage and revenge in literature and media. I often see her as Euripides' Medea-if-she-was-fucking-awesome. Traditionally, 'female rage' is depicted as something rooted in romantic betrayal, often directed at a man who has been unfaithful, with his mistress also falling victim to the scorned woman's wrath. While feeling anger over infidelity is obviously valid, literature often acts as though this is the most intense pain a woman can feel, as though it is the only justifiable reason for her to unleash her rage and seek revenge. Even when it comes to the loss of a child, stories frequently assign the role of avenger to the father, while the mother is left to express her grief in a quiet, restrained manner, expected to endure rather than act.

Junko completely rejects that mold. While her grudge is initially directed at Hou Yi, a man, it has nothing to do with romance, infidelity, or rejection (at least in Touhou canon; her mythological origins vary). She isn't heartbroken over love; she is a mother whose child was taken from her, and she is out for revenge, pure and simple. And once Hou Yi is out of the picture, her rage turns to Chang'e, not because of a petty rivalry, not because of beauty, not because of a man, but because she needs to avenge her son at any cost. There is no underlying romantic narrative, no love triangle, no traditional "woman scorned" trope. Her rage is unfiltered and all-consuming.

What makes Junko's depiction even more striking is that her grief and rage are not presented in a way that is easy to digest. They are not subtle, delicate, or aesthetically pleasing. They are messy, relentless, and brutal. Even her danmaku lacks beauty. It reflects the rawness of her pain, an expression of fury that refuses to be softened or romanticised. Junko does not conform to the palatable, almost sanitised versions of female vengeance often depicted in media, where anger is neatly packaged into clever manipulation or quiet suffering. Instead, she embodies something far more visceral and real.

There is something deeply relatable about Junko’s need for revenge, particularly for anyone who has ever experienced loss or injustice. Her rage seems directionless to those who haven't felt that kind of grief. After all, Chang’e didn’t personally kill her son. And yet, if you’ve ever suffered a wrong so profound that the thought of seeing the perpetrator go unpunished feels unbearable, Junko’s quest makes perfect sense. Justice is not always attainable, and the idea of having to simply accept that reality is its own kind of hell. Junko exhausted every possible avenue for vengeance, and ultimately, her pursuit is futile. The one person who remains as a final target for her rage cannot even be killed. And even if she could kill Chang’e, it would never bring her son back. Her story is a bleak but brutally honest portrayal of grief: there is no true resolution, no catharsis, just the endless, aching persistence of loss.

Her identity is almost entirely consumed by this loss. The idea of grief shaping or even erasing identity is something worth exploring on its own, but in Junko’s case, it is clear that she has stripped herself down to nothing but vengeance. In many ancient cultures, particularly in antiquity, a woman’s identity was intrinsically tied to her role as a mother. When Junko lost her son, she lost not only him but also the identity that had previously defined her. And yet, instead of fading into obscurity or assuming a different role, she reconstructed herself around her grief and her fury, becoming something entirely new, something purely vengeful, purely wrathful.

This is where the connection to Medea feels so strong. One of the reasons Medea is often regarded as a ‘feminist’ work is that she does not meet the expected tragic end for a woman who enacts revenge. She does not get sent to hell, does not beg for forgiveness, she isn't put back in her place by her husband. Instead, she ascends, outwitting Jason and becoming something greater in the process. In much the same way, Junko’s rage does not destroy her. It transforms her. Her purification and ascension into a divine spirit mirror Medea’s ascension. Her wrath does not lead to her downfall, it's the very thing that elevates her. That is such a subversive and powerful way to depict a woman’s quest for revenge.

Sometimes I feel guilty for always drawing Junko suffering, but there is so much depth and untapped potential in her character. Her story is so much more than finding a neat resolution to grief or a moral lesson about the perils of holding a grudge. i love you Junko touhou ❤️❤️❤️

[readychilledwine]

The First Hunt

Eris Week - Day 4 - Hounds And Traditions

Summary - Open season in Autumn always creates a fun game for you and your husband

Warnings - fingering, dirty talk, praise, signs of dumbification and pet play, signs of predator prey play, hunting.

A/n - Slowly reworking through @erisweekofficial things and getting them reformatted 🫠 Happy late day 4! Day 5 should be up this evening. 💕

🍂Eris Week Masterlist🍂Eris Masterlist🍂Master Masterlist🍂

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

You sighed as you walked through the fallen leaves and branches behind your husband's path. Autumn had fully fallen throughout Prythian. Leaves were changing in the solar courts, and coffee shops began to request goods from your home.

But none of that matter to Eris right now. What mattered to Eris is Prythian welcoming Autumn along all their borders meant one thing.

Open Hunting Season.

Every court had different laws regarding when hunting certain game was appropriate. With Mabon having past, Beron had opened deer and elk season. Your husband's favorite time of the year.

He spent weeks training the hounds for this, and they were as ready as their handler.

“Eris, this isn’t-”

“Now, now, my pretty bunny. Silence is the most important part of the hunt. The hounds can't find their prey if you sit here huffing.” Amber eyes stared at you, a pleased smirk on his face as you crossed your arms. “I warned you, little wife. I said this would bore you.”

“I wanted to come to the cabin, spend time with you,” you huffed again. The hounds were deep into searching. Their sensitive noses buried in the ground. They were stealthy, silent. It was as if they knew exactly what leaves and branches to avoid.

The smokehounds were one of your favorite things about Eris. It was a preview to how he'll treat your future children, a sign of the amount of love he truly had just waiting to emerge, and his patience. One of the hounds, Cyprus, came and brushed his hand before walking another direction, the others following him.

He wordlessly motioned for you to follow, bow strapped to wide shoulders again as he moved. Eris was such a graceful being. Even in his most lethal moments, Eris carried the signs of his love of dance.

You followed them, deeper into the woods, deeper into thick brush. There were no villages nearby. No fae for you to decide to leave and speak with.

You all finally stopped in a field, a cleared area in the woods with only a single ancient oak tree.

It would be the only witness to what he was about to do to you. Your back met soft ground before you could even respond and he stood above you, bent at the waist and smirking, “Little wife, on your back for me already?” His bow was carried away by Willow, weapons now long gone as the hounds began to surround the clearing, sitting in the grass to stay guard.

You pushed up to your elbows, “Huband, help me back up.” You held a hand out to him, only for him to remove his shirt. Inches of new skin was revealed before he ultimately got on top of you, caging you to the ground below, “This isn't hunting?”

“Oh but it is, sweet bunny. I ensnared you right where I wanted.”

“Did you now?”

A soft kiss found your lips, “I did.”

“What if it is I who ensnared you?”

Eris only chuckled in response, “Then maybe we are both getting what we want.” His lips found yours again, more heated and needy as he forced you to lay back again. Your own shirt was pulled of moments later before he moved to pull down the travel pants you had been allowed to wear.

His hands began to explore then, his eyes soft as he looked over your smooth skin. “This is is much better than sitting lonely and waiting for the hounds to find something,” he squeezed the plush skin of your thighs, groaning as he did.

Eris loved every inch of you. He loved the curves you carried. He loved the strong muscles of your legs. “You're already wet for me, I can smell it.”

“Eris, I'm always ready for you.”

He lifted his head at you words before glancing to where Oak had stood, “It appears we only have about 10 minutes. They've found something to chase.”

Your remaining clothing became heated, burning off to ash before a hand came to rest on the most sensitive part of you. Fingers danced through your folds, a sigh leaving your lips as you laid back. “That isn't long enough,” you whined as a nimble finger found your clit, circling it.

“Not for everything I'd like to do, no, but long enough for me to get you to finish on my hand, yes.” Eris slid a finger in while holding your eyes. “Did you really think I would not find the rabbit foot treats you hid?”

You could hardly respond as barely brushed your spot, teasing you, giving you a taste of what you craved without fulfilling the hunger.

“Did you think I wouldn't notice my hounds munching on their favorite snacks during their prehunt routine? Little wife, how silly of you to think I didn't know you were trying to get fucked against a tree.”

He began working his finger in and out, curling it just below where you needed him to touch. You continued to hold eye contact, soft moans coming from your lips as you slightly raised your hips for him.

“Gods, you're beautiful like this,” he murmured. “So responsive and soft. Who's my dumb little bunny?”

“Me,” your voice broke with pleasure. “I'm you're dumb bunny.” Eris smirked, adding a second finger and stretching you out more. His thumb grazed your clit with every movement of his hand.

Your mind shut off with every word whispered into your ear. Praising you, degrading you, the dirtiest things about how warm and wet you were, how greedy your pretty pussy was as it took his fingers so easily.

Eris began to focus on chasing your high as the hounds broke into a sprint, his fingers moving fast as the build of barking began to intimate their prey. His second hand grabbed yours, placing it on your bundle of nerves so he could focus on finding the exact angle he needed.

His free hand began to squeeze your breasts, pinching your nipples hardened from the chilly Autumn morning.

Your cries as you felt the wave approaching were drowned out to all but him. The barking now louder and insistent, indicating the hounds were closer to you and Eris, leading the prey straight to you both.

“Need you to come, bunny. Need you to a the best girl for me,” his voice had dropped, deeper as his own arousal began to grow. He kept working you, fingers pulling like a magnet and pushing you towards the sea of pleasure you wanted to bathe yourself in. “Come, bunny,” he commanded.

His spare hand forced you into a kiss, swallowing the scream of his name falling from your lips as your body found what he was working for. He kissed you through the high until he couldn't, grabbing a single bow and arrow and turning while you laid shaking on the ground to shoot whatever finally came into the clearing.

“Not bad,” he muttered as he looked between his trembling wife and the large stag. He handed you your clothing, helping you put it back on, before standing and offering all 12 hounds their individual praise.

You shook your head as Eris smiled at his first game for the season, “Good first hunt?”

“Absolutely.”

“Better than the game we played last year?”

Eris seemed to pause at that question, “Well, considering you picked the most obvious choice in distraction for the hounds this year, I would say the game of cat and mouse we played during the hunt last year was better.” Your mate, blunt and honest to a fault, looked you over. “Though, I do think you look incredibly sexy with leaves in your hair.”

Eris bent down, lifting the deer with ease, “Besides, you, my bunny, only made it 20 feet from the cabin.”

Your jaw dropped as your eyes grew wide, his laughter rang through the clearing, hounds turning in circles of excitement with him. “I swear I tried.”

He moved, kissing your forehead, “Try again later.” The invitation was soft as he whistled, rounding up 12 smokehounds. “Let's go take care of this and then I can fulfill your wishes.”

He turned and walked away, muttering to himself again, “Not bad at all.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

What’s your favorite part about working on the comic? Specifically the comic; like drawing it, coloring, writing scripts, etc

Oh, that's an interesting question! Let's rate them!

Sketching/Drawing: (9/10) Creating at its finest. For me, this is the distilled elixir of creation. The heart of being a comic artist. I love organizing panels on a page, it's like playing tetris. I love drawing! Points off for requiring so much time. Why can't I just bang my head against a tablet and dump out all the pictures onto the screen at once?

Scripting: (6/10) Pretty standard work. I enjoy it well enough, but it gets points taken off for requiring so much re-writing and emotional turmoil. Sometimes, I will rework a line 3-4 times and think it works great, but inevitably something will come along to make me think it would have been better to have the character say that OTHER thing instead.

Lineart: (11/10) Excellent. Stupendous. This is drawing, if drawing required no braincells. It's meditation! I'm listening to a 2 hour long video essay about evolution or manta rays or ancient trees. I'm happy, I'm in my lane, I'm flourishing. (This would have been 12/10 except for those times when you're drawing the same line 17 times and are stuck in a ctrl+z loop.)

Coloring: (-2/10) Don't like it. Cannot recommend it. People tell me they like this part? I'm skeptical. It's tedious. It's boring. It's like one of those baby games where you put cubes into a square hole, etc, but sometimes the cubes the misshapen and don't go in smoothly. At best it's just 10 minutes of clicking with a bucket tool. At worst, it's coloring within the lines, which I have been OVER since I was 4.

Rendering values, special effects: (5/10) This is fine. It's simply fine. I can enjoy it. It's interesting, but a bit repetitive, but it takes less effort than coloring, with more variety, so I respect it.

Posting: (4/10) This is a trap. There IS a typo, and you WILL see it as soon as you click Post. Or as soon as the post hits 100 notes. Whichever one is more painful. But on the other hand... commints! But on the other-other hand... people misunderstanding your characters' intentions and being a whole clown in the comments about it! It's a mixed bag.

[deecotan]

🌱 Deeco's ZoSan Fic Rec List 🐥

Hello hello! This is going to be a slight rework for my zosan fic rec list, because I wanted to re-organize it and add some new fics while I'm at it, so this is going to be longer than the first. Feel free to check it out!

Latest update: November 2023

Because I started making this list long before August 2023, I won't add any fics that specifically take place in live-action setting because I haven't read much of them yet. I might consider updating this list to add fics with live-action setting in the future.

—GEN/T FICS

Sketches of Life (and Love) by Fledgling (Teen, 2.9k)

An exploration of a headcanon where Sanji likes to draw in his free time. This fic always leaves me with a warm feeling every time I read it because how endearingly sweet it is. It’s basically a domestic fluff story about both ZoSan and the Strawhats crew in general.

green with envy blues by adietxt (Gen, 1.5k)

A cute fic about Zoro being jealous. Jealous!Zoro has been one of those tropes that make me screech like a feral animal every time I come across it and this fic does exactly that. It’s pretty short and simple but it captures the characters very well. It’s set during pre-timeskip which makes it even better to me because pre-TS Zoro possesses that boyish quality that post-TS Zoro doesn’t necessarily have anymore.  OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: Fuck, Marry, Kill (or, how Usopp becomes the best matchmaker of the sea without really trying) (Teen, 4.8k) — Usopp introduces the Strawhats to a game that ends up causing Sanji to overthink things - a lot of things.

Old Men Blues by postmoderne (Gen, 2k)

Quoting directly from the fic’s summary, “Sanji and Zoro: two ancient fucks (in love).” because this is exactly that, a story about old men ZoSan. Old Zoro and old Sanji are both still as stubborn as ever and it’s endearing. OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: Something Golden (Teen, 1.6k) — Canon reimagining where Zoro met Sanji at the Baratie pre-series.

Meet me under the orange tree by candelina (Gen, 3.9k)

A canon divergence AU where Zoro and Sanji met as kids, as Zeff opened up Baratie in Zoro’s hometown. It’s an adorable and heartwarming story of little Zoro and little Sanji’s friendship. There’s also a part two which is also worth reading. OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: The whole world will know (2.3k) — Old men ZoSan fic, this one involves Zoro deliberately showing himself to the Marines for god knows what. It’s sweet, it’s beautiful, and it shows that Zoro is as reckless and idiotic as he is a loving, devoted husband.

Zoro’s Boyfriend, Who Lives In Canada by donutsandcoffee (Gen, 2.6k)

Modern AU, where Zoro’s friends try to stop him from believing that his imaginary, totally made-up boyfriend actually exists. Of course Zoro’s boyfriend doesn’t actually exist, because with the way Zoro describes him he’s way too perfect to exist and how can anyone so perfect actually exist? A hilarious story of misunderstandings.  OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: Prison Blues (Teen, 2.8k) and it’s a long way forward (Teen, 5k) — serve as both a ZoSan story and a great Sanji character study. 

The Three of Swords by 8ball (Teen, 30k, multi-chapters & completed)

A medieval AU with knight Zoro and prince Sanji, a concept that starts to really grow on me after I begin to read this fic. In this story, Zoro is a cursed knight appointed to serve Sanji, a kind-hearted prince whom Zoro eventually pines over. It’s a beautiful take of prince and knight AU; devoted knight Zoro is something that I didn’t know I need. It also has a sequel.  OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: The Ocean's Child series — a canon-divergence mermaid!Sanji AU

(I Want) Someone to Love Me by three_days_late (Teen, 7.9k)

Sanji is about to turn 17, so he hopes that he can get his first kiss before that. A cute high school AU that involves everyone wanting to kiss Sanji (honestly, who doesn’t) but only one person gets to actually do it.  OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: Blood Red (Teen, 400 words) — this might be a little biased because this fic is inspired by my comic, but it’s also a perfectly good reason why I must add it here; this fic is able to capture the spirit of the comic perfectly. If you want to read a short exposition of Zoro showing his darker, yet protective side, then this fic is worth the read. Warning for blood & hints of violence. The Christmas Swap (Teen, 37k, multi-chapters & completed) — a modern AU in which Sanji and Reiju switch partners during Christmas so they can attend their family gathering without having to come out as queer. It’s a wonderful story about family, relationships, and the struggles of maintaining those things as a queer person. The Only Way Out (Is Through) (Teen, 4.8k) — a beautiful Prince Sanji and Knight Zoro story, where circumstances forced them to separate & unable to be together. It also has a side Nami/Vivi. I Have Loved You for 1000 Years (I'll Love You for 1000 More) (Teen, 8.9k) — Another Prince Sanji & Knight Zoro AU involving time travel & the sacrifices you go through for the ones you love.

Curly Angel by APTX & translated to English by NMTD (Teen, 9.4k, two chapters & completed)

In this alternative canon universe, everyone has a guardian angel, and Zoro’s just happened to be Sanji. Hilarity ensues.

Let me be your Inspiration by TheWanderers (Teen, 19.8k)

College AU where Sanji is an artist/painter - another fic that explores Sanji as someone with an artistic streak, but also so much more. It’s a beautiful story that starts out with Zoro having to model for Sanji’s painting but ends up falling in love with him. I love the way the author adapts the characters’ canon backstory into this universe.

Retrogade by Hazel_Athena (Teen, 21.9k, two-chapters & completed)

Sanji got badly injured after a fight, and ends up losing a big chunk of memories - it doesn’t bother him too much until he notices how weird Zoro starts to act around him. A really good temporary amnesia fic with some really delicious pining!Zoro material. OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: Medieval ZoSan series — a medieval arranged marriage AU. Renegade Queen (Teen, 76k, multi-chapters & completed) — a canon divergent AU where Sora lives and takes all her children with her - it's more of a Vinsmoke family story with ZoSan on the side.

Nothing Happened (Gen, 16k, multi-chapters & completed)

An angsty survival story where the Strawhats get stranded in a middle of the seas with no means to escape and rapidly declining food stock. This fic does a really good job at keeping you in suspense, and the way it handles Zoro and Sanji's relationship destroyed me emotionally. OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: Each A Love Song (Gen, 8.6k) — Sanji is frustrated because Zoro’s surprisingly popular with women when he doesn’t even like them back. A story of a confused Sanji trying to find love and being the World’s Most Oblivious Man. Three Blades (Gen, 5k) — a Western AU where Sanji is a saloon owner and Zoro is a bounty hunter.

The Melody of Missing You by BleuReivers (Teen, 11k)

Zoro is forced to confront his feelings in the aftermath of Sanji's departure during the Whole Cake Island arc. I love the way this story examines Zoro's softer, more vulnerable side in a painfully beautiful way, and the whole fic has this hazy, dream-like vibe that really fits with the plot.

Sick Day by Styx_in_the_mud (Teen, 1.3k)

Zoro gets sick, and Sanji takes care of him. A short sick!fic with a simple premise but very cute nonetheless.

—MATURE/EXPLICIT FICS

Deep by CharlieNozaki (Mature, 171k, multi-chapters & completed)

This is There Are Many Benefits to Being A Marine Biologist: The Fic. Okay jokes aside, this is a modern fantasy AU fic where merpeople exist and it mainly tells about marine biologist Sanji and merman Zoro. It has an interesting premise and deals with some heavy subjects in later chapters, hence the Mature tag. It has a sequel, though it's currently ongoing. OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: The Game — a Modern AU with slight fantasy-ish element, where Zoro and Sanji are young orphans who find a mysterious game that might be able to change their lives.

Delphinium by toastie_bread (Mature, 39k, multi-chapters & completed)

Set in modern AU, stylist Sanji meets with police detective Zoro after his beauty salon got robbed; a cute rom-com story. There's also a side LawLu.

Steady, As She Goes by auspizien (Explicit, 155k, multi-chapters & completed)

I’ve always loved auspizien’s fics and this is the one fic that made me fall in love with their writing. This is a modern AU story where Zoro is an ex-agent with PTSD who meets and befriends Sanji, a paramedic. It’s a multi-chapter fic filled with humor, angst, pining, action, and good ol’ slow-burn.  OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: The Android Acquaintance (Explicit, 10k) — dystopian cyberpunk AU with android Sanji and bounty hunter Zoro. This fic partly inspires me to make the Blade Runner 2049 ZoSan art!

The Tribulations of Temptation by SweetyGreeny (Explicit, 18.5k)

Zoro accidentally sees Ace and Sanji doing… the do, and then spends days after that feeling shocked, confused, angry, and disappointed.  A delicious story of pining and jealous Zoro. There’s a slight AceSan in the beginning but the endgame is still ZoSan.   OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: A Siren’s Sinking Song (Teen, 12k) — a canon-divergent AU where Sanji is a siren who one day meets a peculiar swordsman from a wandering ship; this story is beautiful and I love the idea of siren!Sanji, but please note the major character death TW.  The Burden of Blondes (Explicit, 11k) — Sanji finds out that Zoro has a thing for blondes, and for some reason he feels uneasy. A fun story with some good smut, and inspired me to make an art loosely based on it.

Thy Fearful Symmetry by Harubo (Explicit, 14.3k)

A modern AU where Sanji is a tourist visiting a tiger reserve during a family vacation and Zoro is a detective investigating a poaching ring. All of Harubo’s fics are godsend but I particularly love this one because the setting reads like a perfect rom-com drama movie about a stressed, overworked chef meeting a handsome detective. There’s also a nice tidbit where the Vinsmoke siblings are trying to get along with each other.

Done Dirt Cheap by Balderdashfromafool (Explicit, 99.7k, multi-chapters & completed)

A Western ZoSan AU, where Zoro is an outlaw and Sanji is a small town chef. This one is fun and lovely, and as someone who doesn’t read a lot of Western-themed stories, I love the way the author describes the Western setting in this fic. 

The Fox's Heart by Shadowcatxx (Explicit, 32k, multi-chapters & completed)

Historical/mythological AU where fox spirit Sanji falls in love with human samurai Zoro. A pretty heavy story about forbidden romance but ends with a happy ending. The fic deals with some period-typical issues like homophobia, misogyny, sexism, and transphobia, as well as some depictions of violence and (slight) animal abuse, so please be aware of that.

Mine by burnwaywardbird (Explicit, 4k)

A pure PWP fic of Zoro “punishing” Sanji for flirting with strangers. Super kinky and involves slight dom/sub undertones. Also, while this is mostly pure PWP, this fic is technically part of a series and while can be read as a standalone, I highly recommend to read the other parts as well (especially the ones preceding this fic).

pretty sanji series (Pretty & Surprise) by kickingsanji (12.6k in total)

A series of fics exploring Sanji's femininity and Zoro discovering that he has a thing for Sanji being pretty & wearing pretty things. As a Pretty Sanji truther, I love these fics to bits, not only because it handles Sanji dealing with his insecurities when it comes to his gender expression in a gentle, respectful way, but also because the smut is very good.

All Will be Well by thecrownofclowns (Explicit, 17k)

An incredibly sad but sweet zombie apocalypse AU about Sanji trying to survive the zombie outbreak all by himself, before eventually meeting Zoro. One of my favorite hurt/comfort fics.

—OMEGAVERSE (ALPHA/BETA/OMEGA) FICS

Onigiri by himaaneko (Teen, 2.3k)

Very cute domestic family fic of Zoro, Sanji, and their son. For those who prefers a softer omegaverse with family/love-children fluff on the side, this fic is for you.

Bite Me by Shadowcatxxx (Mature, 15k, two-chapters & completed)

Sanji got attacked while he was alone on the ship, causing him to go into heat. Zoro tries to help, but not without consequences. An exposition on how Zoro and Sanji handle their dynamics, and their feelings towards each other. Please mind the tags with this one.

fever by adietxt (Explicit, 6.4k, multi-chapters & completed)

I'm pretty sure that this is the first omegaverse ZoSan story that I have ever read, and one of the best ones I've ever read for a good reason. It involves Sanji, who suddenly got into his heat, and Zoro, the first one to discover Sanji in heat and learns for the first time he's an omega. I won't spoil anything, but I can say that the ending is great, the porn is delicious, and Zoro being possessive is exquisite.

Steps of Calidity by auspizien (Explicit, 42k, multi-chapters & completed)

I'm gonna preface this by saying that the smut here is ungodly good and very, very hot - and to be perfectly honest, one of the main reasons why I like this fic so much. But the plot is just as good and has an interesting take of how omegaverse dynamics might work in a modern world. Don't forget to mind the tags as well.

Sweet by ElAlmaDelMar (Explicit, 1.8k)

Sanji starts lactating during his pregnancy; Zoro finds it very hot. This one is just straight up kinky. It's a sequel to another story but can be read as a standalone.