#non graphic

[flesh-rot]

[pheavampire]

THE RADIO IS BROKEN: PART 5

Looks like this part will be actually two parts. And to think at first I planned to do only three in total... lol.

EXTRA WARNING:

This part involves more serious SA than the previous ones. Decide if you want to deal with such topics in fiction before you read it.

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 6

[indigo33]

ooooo get traumatised (again)

Mecha Pilot AU by @keferon

Arturus Missions by @typewritingyip

Hound design by @cosmique-oddity

[m4rs-bug-23]

JUST HIT US WE HAVE ART WE FORGOT TO POST

ART DUMP

[lilac-ossuary]

chosen by something invisible

Emmrich/Olivia Ingellvar. First time, non-graphic lovemaking, devotion, tenderness, consideration, praise, aftercare. Minors DNI. AO3 Link.

Emmrich undressed her as though he were entrusted with something holy.

He did not hurry. There was no clumsy greed, although a part of her had half feared and half hoped it might overtake them both. There was just Emmrich, breath uneven and hair a little less orderly, remaining a man of ritual. His hands moved with a scholar's care and a lover's awe, easing her clothing from her body inch by precious inch, eyes following each revealed softness with reverence. Ollie flushed along her cheeks and neck.

She might have hidden if he had looked at her with hunger alone. And there was hunger. She could feel it in the taut restraint of him, and see the way his jaw flexed. A tremor passed through his fingers when they brushed her hip. But within that hunger, there was something gentler and far more devastating. Wonder. Devotion. The quiet astonishment of a man who had spent his life mastering death and now found himself trembling before the living warmth of the woman he loved.

"Ollie," he murmured. Her name, in his mouth, became something soft enough to undo her.

She lay beneath him in the dim glow of the lantern, the blankets half tanged around her legs, curls spread over the pillow like pale thread. She should have felt exposed, and instead felt seen. Entirely.

"Don't look at me like that," she pleaded, though there was no real protest in it. She was shy. Adored too openly.

Emmrich bent and pressed his lips to her knee, then higher, to the tender place above it, and then to her stomach with such aching care her breath caught. "How else am I to look at you, mein Herz?" He asked against her skin. "You are here. You are mine to love. Do you expect me to be sensible about it?"

That made her laugh, breathless and small. "You're usually sensible about everything."

"I have been accused of many things," he said, lifting his head. His eyes were bright and dark all at once. "But I assure you, Liebchen, at this precise moment, sensible is not among them."

His mouth found hers, and the laughter vanished into a soft sound she could not have named. He kissed her until the room seemed to narrow around them where there was no Necropolis, no shifting corridors, stern professor, or frightened girl trying to be brave. There was only Emmrich above her, warm and real and shaking with the effort of gentleness. Only the brush of this thumb against her cheek. The quiet praise he gave her between kisses, words in English and Nevarran blurring together until she understood them less by meaning than by tenderness.

"Beautiful," he breathed. "So very beautiful. Stay with me. There, yes. Look at me, Ollie."

She did. Even when she wanted to bury her face in his shoulder, she looked at him because he asked, and because the mere sight of him nearly broke her heart. His composure had thinned to something delicate and luminous. The severe lines of his face were softened by want, love, and a tenderness so intense...it was almost grief.

When he joined himself to her at last, the moment was not theatrical. Only a held breath. A crossing of some invisible threshold. Ollie clutched at his shoulders, startled by the closeness of it, and how much of him there seemed to be. Not only in body, but presence. Attention and care. As though every single part of him had bent toward the single purpose of not frightening her, or rushing her. Of not letting her doubt for one second that she was cherished.

"Oh," she gasped, and hid her face against his neck after all.

Emmrich went utterly still. "Too much? My love?"

She shook her head quickly. "No. No, I just..." Her fingers tightened around his skin. "I didn't know it would feel so much like...like you." His breath left him in a low, unsteady sound. For a moment, he did not move. He only held her, hand sliding beneath her head. He cradled her as thought she were something fragile and furious and beloved.

"That is rather the intention, Liebling," he whispered, voice so tender she smiled against his neck.

He moved slowly. Patiently. Discovering a rhythm rather than taking it. Emmrich watched her face with a concentration that might once have belonged to research and ancient texts, but now belonged only to her. If her brow tightened, he paused. If her breath fluttered, he soothed her with his mouth against her cheek. If she made one of those little broken sounds that seemed to escape before she could stop it, his eyes would close for a half a second, as though he had been struck.

"Do not swallow them," he murmured, voice rougher than before.

Ollie blinked up at him, dazed. "Hm...what?"

"Your sounds." His thumb stroked her lower lip. His own restraint was visible, trembling in the muscles of his arms, and the careful control of each breath. "Do not hide them from me."

She blushed so fiercely she almost turned away, but his hand cupped her cheek and held her there. Not forcefully. Only enough to ask. So, she let him hear her.

Softly, at first. A gasp. A shaky little hum. His name, so tender and startled that something in his expression cracked open. Then more as the warmth gathered in her and spread, and her nervousness loosened under the steady devotion of his hands and mouth and voice. He spoke to her through all of it, low and intimate, praising her.

"Good girl," he breathed, so gentle and proud, she shivered beneath him. He felt it. Of course he felt it.

"Ah," he moaned, pressing his forehead to hers. "There you are."

Her hands slide into his hair, ruining its careful shape completely. "Emmrich!"

"Yes, Liebste. I have you." His breath caught, and she saw the strain in him clearly. The way he held back, the way desired pulled at him and he refused it. Refused anything that would carry him away before she had reached that point herself. "Not yet," he whispered, perhaps to himself. "Not yet."

Ollie, hazy and overwhelmed, touched his face. "You can."

"No." The word was soft, but absolute. He turned his mouth into her palm. "You first. Always you."

She unraveled. Ollie clung to him as the feeling crested, not loudly, but with a trembling little cry against his mouth, whole body drawing tight beneath his. Emmrich held her through it, whispering her name as if guiding her through a spell. As if she were returning to herself by the sound of his voice alone.

Only when she softened beneath him, breathless and stunned, did his control finally shatter.

His forehead pressed harder to hers, hands tightening in the bedding. A low, beautiful sound escaped him, deep in his chest, and Ollie wrapped her arms around him as he followed her in climax, his face open with such raw love that her eyes filled without warning.

Afterward, he did not collapse away from her. He gathered her in. The blankets were drawn up around them with immediate, fussy tenderness. He kissed her damp forehead, her cheeks, mouth. He asked if she was sore, cold, if he had been too heavy, too much, too anything. Ollie, floating somewhere soft and golden, answered mostly by shaking her head and pressing closer.

"You're fussing," she mumbled.

"I am providing attentive care."

"You're fussing."

"I am Nevarran, my heart. We have many words for fussing, and all of them are superior."

She laughed weakly into his chest. That pleased him. She felt it in the way his arms tightened, and in the kiss he pressed to her curls. He reached for the water on the beside table and helped her drink, one hand steady at the back of her neck. Then he wiped a tear she had not realized had fallen.

"Did I frighten you?" He asked, quiet.

"No." She looked up at him, sleepy and bare and more herself than she's ever felt. "You loved me."

For a moment, he did not speak. Then Emmrich bowed his head, and kissed her with such aching softness it felt like a vow. "Then I have done the only thing that mattered," he whispered. "Rest now, Liebchen. I am here."

And he was.

[quantum-fizz-icks]

Happy International Women’s Day fuckers!

Have a fic focused on a girl dealing with some bullshit <3

Human Girl Trouble

(A short and sweet one-shot exploring Frankie and Chase’s dynamic because they’re so underrated {and exploring the fact that Chase is a helpful little guy who doesn’t understand humans well but he’s trying})

(Warnings for: menstruation and the common struggles that come with that)

After all these years, all the times she had visited the firehouse, how had she not seen any period products before? She knew there had to be some, considering Dani lived here, but the bathroom she was hiding in didn’t seem to have any.

“Why now?” Frankie groaned, checking the cupboards again.

She usually carried plenty of products on her person, but they were all in her bag in Cody’s room. In Cody’s room up an elevator and a fight of stairs. She would be willing to call Cody if she had thought to keep her phone with her— which of course she hadn’t because why would she bring her phone to the bathroom of all places?

She groaned again, letting her face fall in her hands. Of course this had to happen right now. It couldn’t just wait an hour or two until she got home where she could sit curled up in bed with plenty of water and vitamins. It had to happen in a building full of mostly men in a small bathroom with no products to be found.

She sighed heavily as she prepared herself for the impossibly long and treacherous journey. After using the untrustworthy toilet paper method to at least protect her clothes for a short time, she peeked out of the bathroom and made a determined line for the elevator. The garage suddenly felt far too big as she fought to keep her strides as short as possible, not willing to risk the flimsy safety of her makeshift pad. She had almost reached the door when a large blue foot stepped in her path.

It took every ounce of strength she had to not snap at the bot as she was forced to stop, so close to the end of the first leg of her trek.

“Chase, I can’t talk, I’m busy-“

“Are you alright?” he leaned down to speak with her at a better level, “Your vitals seem out of the ordinary.”

She took a deep breath before speaking again, “I’m fine. I’m just… not feeling great.”

Chase tilted his helm, a thoughtful look in his yellow optics.

“Would you like me to alert Doc Greene?”

“No, no it’s fine,” she stopped him before he could risk interrupting one of his many sensitive projects, “It’s nothing serious.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, please just move.”

A soft humming noise emanated from the rescue bot as a thin strip of blueish light traveled down then up her frame, to which she squawked in surprise. She froze when Chase hummed, placing a digit to his chin in thought, before seemingly realizing something.

“Ah! I understand your predicament now.”

She was about to ask if he really understood when he reached a servo into his subspace, pulled out a few small, colorful squares, and handed them to her freely.

“I believe these may help,” he stated correctly, letting Frankie take them tentatively, “Chief Burns claims they are made to assist with your current situation, so Blades and I carry some in our glove boxes in case of emergency.”

Frankie stared dumbfounded for a second, not having expected that in the slightest. Apparently he really did understand what was wrong— enough so to offer her salvation with zero questions or judgement. When she finally shook off her shock, she quickly turned back to the bathroom to properly fix the issue.

“Thank you Chase!” she called as she broke out into a sprint, “You’re a life saver!”

“You are very welcome Francine. It is my duty to serve, save, and protect in all situations.”

[literallyjustred]

HI, I LITERALLY NEED MORE OF YOUR VAMP!AVID AU!?!? I LOVE IT SO MUCH

HI HELLO! I AM GLAD YOU LIKE IT.

Have some INCREDIBLY messy sketches and my notes on them. by notes on them i am just gonna ramble. yay.

Undercut stuff too yay

Anyway, Avid when hes really hungry and there actually happens to be a mortal around him and hes hungry will legit bite himself to control his hunger. He would rather hurt himself then hurt someone else. Too many lives already stain his hands.

Second page is the worst laid out comic Ive done BUT, cause its generally not clear the gist is Scott likes to bring him fresh hunted humans/body parts as Avid "needs the human blood cause he hangs around garlic and allium so much" So the exact convo is:

"You know, not even drift wastes fresh food."

"You don't bring drift murder victims"

"Please, no respect at all. You're the one who refuses to leave these awful flowers Avid. You need human blood."

"..."

"Well bye, I'll leave it here for you cause I am nice."

"..."

"Well, I guess that's another Allium for the garden."

SOMETIMES he has bat wings cause I wanted him to peace n love. He does also tend to carry around Allium, and usually buries whatever body parts Scott gives him with the flower. He can survive off animals. He, he can. Due to this he really mostly stays at level one.

Sometimes hunters come through his garden to attack the rest of the coven, sometimes these hunters don't realize he's a vampire. And they promise to come back to save him, if he can't get them to leave. They never come back, so when they leave to kill his former friends and neighbors he plants another Allium.

There are times he does kill the hunters himself too, he may hate most of the oakhurst coven, but at the end of the day. He still failed them, at the end of the day he was supposed to protect them, and he failed. And sometimes, the idea of protecting them wins. Most times it's because the hunter realized who he was, and Avid despite everything does not go down easy.

[chronicallyleggless]

I keep seeing a trend of ppl really liking our intersex stuff. I should make more!