#big arse sword

[dirk-menace]

i think this is what Kirby's all about

#idk what tags to add other than #Kirby #Nintendo #question mark question mark question mark #childlike wonder #big arse sword #NOT DRAWN IN PAINT just imitating the text #from there

[aemondtargaryenonlyfans]

HEAVY IS THE HEAD THAT WEARS THE CROWN.

Daemon Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT - MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest (uncle and niece), kinda non/dub con, p in v, semi public sex, doggy style, degrading, slapping, possessiveness, jealousy

WORDS: 1.5 K

NOTES: This is something I had written and posted on another blog when I (rightfully so) didn't feel accepted and wanted in fandom. So, if any of you remembers this, it was written by me. This is Lingo Jam High Valyrian (it is what it is).

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

It’s way past the Hour of the Owl as you stand in the Throne Room all by yourself, all the tables for the guests of your coronation feast having already been cleared and stored away by the keep’s staff, leaving the room to be eerily quiet and empty. 

You stand in front of the intimidating Iron Throne, looming in the dim light of the candles around you, your fingertips barely brushing the sharp swords that were used to forge it by your ancestors, reminiscing about all the times you’ve seen your father sitting on it. 

Unlike your grandsire and father before you, you chose to wear the Conqueror's Crown and wield his sword, the big, square-cut rubies complimenting the red and gold gown you wear. 

The heavy doors leading to the intimidating chambers open behind you, but you don’t turn around, knowing all too well who intrudes the silence and serenity. His footsteps are heavy, bouncing off the thick columns and walls on his way. 

“Skoros iksis ziry ao jeldan naejot ȳdragon naejot nyke nūmāzma?” you ask, but before you’re able to turn around, the weight of your husband’s chest against your back pushes you forward, the ostentatious crown on your head toppling to the ground at the impact. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?

Both your hands immediately seize the armrests of the Iron Throne for support, more so when Daemon’s hand falls to the place between your shoulders to keep you exactly like you are, bowed forward with no chance to move. 

“Hm,” he hums, applying just a bit of pressure to your back. “How about the wanton farce you put up for that cunt of a Lannister?” he growls, and it’s clear it is not a question but an accusation. 

There is not one breath wasted when he rucks up the skirts of your gown and bunches it around your waist, fisting it with one of his large paws. The matter clearly is serious, and has occupied him for quite some time now, considering he prefers to answer you in the Common Tongue rather than High Valyrian. 

But it’s not like you have much time to really process the meaning behind it, considering he has the skirt of your dress in his hand in one moment, and your small clothes pulled down to your knees in the next. Your cunt is exposed to the chilly air of the Red Keep, and to anyone that chooses to intrude on such an intimate and disgraceful scene, and much to your husband’s surprise, you’re soaked with anticipation, which earns you a condescending scoff from him. 

He has quickly figured that there isn't going to come any reply from you, too caught up in the heat of the moment and the little predicament you’ve found yourself in, and forces a gasp from your lips as his hand not-so-gently collides with your bare rear. 

Your body slightly lulls forwards to escape the stinging pain that blooms on your skin, but to now avail. “I–I don’t know what you’re talking about!” you press with despair audible in your voice. 

But he just scoffs again. “Oh, I’m certain you don’t,” his voice is sharp, and the words underlined by another slap to your arse. “Need I remind Your Grace who they belong to?” The title is spoken in a way to make a mock display of his courtesy, displaying how little care he holds over your status at this moment.

You’re not quite sure what he is up to when you feel and hear him shifting and fumbling behind you, although you have a mild guess, until you feel the tip of his hard cock pressing against your soaked cunt. He pushes in even before you can answer, any words or pathetic protests dying on your tongue and replaced by a moan. 

“That’s what I thought,” he says more to himself, his tone suddenly taking on an air of smugness. His words are followed by a groan that flows into a heedless sigh as he bottoms out completely, his heavy stones pressing against your pearl. 

It’s a side to Daemon you haven’t seen or experienced before, despite growing up around him, his several liaisons and wives. There has never been something akin to jealousy coursing through his veins before. Yes, Daemon has always been a little too rough, too impatient and resolving matters by force rather than diplomacy, but you’ve never seen his blood run this hot. 

His upper body slightly bends forward and towers over yours as he rests one hand on the backrest of the Throne, the other still on your hip with your skirts tightly secured.

“What–” the words catch in your throat, replaced by a whimper. “What if anyone sees us?” 

“Jaelan zirȳ naejot ūndegon,” he growls. “Jaelan zirȳ naejot gīmigon bona iksā ñuhon.” I want them to see. I want them to know that you’re mine. 

The whine you release at that is nothing short of desperate. While the thought of anyone catching you two frightens you to the core, you enjoy the possessive side of him, reveling in his desire just for you since you’ve shared it most of your life with your younger sister. 

Pulling out of you almost completely, the tip of his cock is the only thing that remains buried inside of you. While the feeling of the sudden loss makes you whine and push your hips back to force him inside again, it also earns you another harsh slap that’s served to your arse. 

“Ao sagon ñuhon se mazemā skoros nyke tepagon ao, iksis bona shifang?” You're mine and you take what I give you, is that understood?

Daemon then slams his hips into yours as a warning, filling you up in a swift thrust that has you gasping, and knocks the air straight from your lungs. “Gaomagon daor mazverdagon nyke ivestragon ziry arlī,” he snarls. “Gaomagon. Ao. Shifang?” Each word is punctuated with a harsh snap of his hips.  Don’t make me say it again. Do. You. Understand?

“K… kessa,” you hiccup. Yes. 

The pace of his thrusts is nothing short of ruthless, and he uses the grip on your hip to pull you back onto his cock for your bodies to meet halfway, the most obscene sounds of skin slapping on skin echoing off the walls of the Throne Room.

His stones are heavy and the fleshy pouch they sit in slightly sagged, hitting your pearl perfectly each time he fills you to the brim, and sending shivers to the soles of your feet. 

Daemon forces your hips higher until you’re standing on your tiptoes for him, your body barely supported by his fingers digging into your hip. The angle changes with that, allowing him to shove his cock into you even deeper than before – a change that has him groaning and grunting over and over again. 

Your eyes lull into the back of your head, and the heat in your belly doesn’t diminish, causing a renewed wave of arousal to leak out of your core. 

Not caring if the skirts of your gown are riding down again, he grips the back of your neck firmly enough so you can’t turn your head, fucking you as if his life depends on it and knocking every breath clean out of your lungs. 

Daemon forces his hips into yours with such determination, he is close to shoving you up against the Iron Throne with the force of his need, your arms almost buckling under the weight he puts onto you. You can tell he’s racing for completion, effectively pulling you with him in the process. 

With the pace of his hips not faltering once, your peak washes over you in an ambush. The pleasure in your body gets intense enough for your legs to tremble, his hand that rests on the Iron Throne coming down to seize your hip to support you. Your walls clench around his cock tight enough for him to draw in a sharp breath, but the assault on your cunt doesn’t cease. 

“Qilōni gaomagon ao sytilībagon naejot?” Daemon groans, pulling you back onto his cock and fucking you through your peak. Who do you belong to? It’s almost as if he’s asking for your reassurance, wanting to be sure of your feelings for him. 

“A… ao,” you hiccup. “Ik… iksan aōhon.” You. I’m yours.

His peak crashes over him with your reassurance, his throbbing cock spending itself deep inside of your cunt. His hands trail up and down your sides in nothing else than pure bliss, and when it’s all over, he releases a sigh of relief, almost as if the pressure has fallen off his shoulders. 

He cups your arse with both hands, and squeezes your flesh. When he doesn’t make any move to pull out of you, however, it’s clear that he is relishing the way your drenched cunt embraces his flaccid cock.

“No one will make you feel as good as I do, dōna ābrazȳrys, and certainly no Lannister,” he rasps. “He would not know how to handle the Blood of the Dragon. You were made for me, and you belong to me. Always have, always will.” Sweet wife. 

Daemon Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @schniiipsel @avalyaaa @baizzhu @yn-jackson

#house of the dragon #hotd #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #hotd daemon #prince daemon targaryen #daemon fic #daemon smut #daemon imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd smut #hotd fic #hotd daemon targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon daemon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon smut #daemon stannies #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen x female reader

[fairysluna]

drabble #4

i'm one of many, bonnie's blue, but when he calls, he calls for me and not for you.

Pairing: Maegor I Targaryen x Fem!Reader.

TW/Tags: smut (p in v, throne sex, choking, dacryphilia, dirty talk), cheating, mentions of blood, basically no plot just filth.

MASTERLIST

The guard let his sword drop onto the floor causing a thunderous sound that echoed in the room. His jaw clenched, his body stiffened up, and his cheeks were tinted with a slight rose color… All while King Maegor had his big hands on your arse, guiding your movements as your greedy cunt milked his cock.

Your soft and low whimpers were barely heard, for your face was buried on his wide chest. Tears of pleasure fell down your face and onto his armor as you clenched your eyes, ignoring the sound that alerted the king as you were too busy trying to reach your glorious release.

Knees bleeding with small cuts, your dress shattered into pieces laying beneath Maegor's shoes, your arsecheeks spreaded by his hands leaving your cunt bare and exposed to whomever might enter the Throne Room. Your hands on his shoulders barely gave you strength as your legs grew tired of the constant movement that was failing to give you what you so desperately craved.

The guard left as soon as he noticed Maegor's deadly stare on him; he did not say anything, he just turned around and closed the door behind him, leaving you undisturbed.

You barely noticed all of that, but you heard Maegor's choked laugh, which went straight to your pussy making you clench around him.

"Are you tired already?" he asked mockingly, his hands lazily brushing against your burning skin, making you long for more, "You're not stopping until you're dripping with my cum."

"Please," you begged, tears flooding your eyes as you pulled back to see his smug grin, "I need to… I need to cum-"

He cut your words as his hand reached for your throat, grabbing tightly as you mewled, your body writhing on top of him, making him push deeper inside of you. You locked your eyes with his, dark purple staring back at you with traces of lust in them. Soul piercing gems that made you drench around his cock.

"P-please…" you repeated, your voice barely audible as your wet face turned red out of shame for sounding so needy and desperate.

He pulled you close, your hips stopped their movements standing still with him stuffed inside you. You were able to feel him twitch inside your tight walls as his nose brushed against your soaked cheeks, sniffing your sweaty skin and sensing your arousal. Your bottom lip quivering as your breathing came out as shaky. Glossy eyes begging him to help you.

Maegor chuckled, and once you least expected it his heavy hand slapped the soft skin of your arse, leaving a reddish mark on it. You gulped, your body moved and the skin on your knees suffered from another cut that made you bleed.

"You're always so desperate for my cock," he whispered, squeezing your throat tighter.

Your lips parted and Maegor took this opportunity to kiss you rough, slipping his tongue inside your mouth, swirling around yours as he devoured you so fervently. Your breath was taken away by his touch, so careless and ruthless, but so good and arousing.

The King hummed as your hips started to move again. His hand left your throat and went to your ass, starting to control your movements and giving the help you very much needed. Your arms wrapped his shoulders as you buried your face on the crock of his neck; his sweet cologne only increased the arousal between your shaky legs.

The sound of your slick coating the King's cock made you shiver. His heavy breath smacking against your ear as his unholy mouth started to utter filthy words that made you drool.

"Look at you, my little whore," he lifted his hips as he lowered yours, his fat head brushing against your deepest spot making you roll your eyes with pleasure. "Your pretty cunt is milking my cock so good…"

"Gods…" you mewled, clinging onto his shoulder as your legs shook.

Maegor scoffed, holding a grunt as your pussy squeezed him deliciously.

"No, darling, it's me… The Gods aren't the ones fucking you so nicely, I am." His fingertips digging into your skin as he fastened his pace, lifting his hips and smacking them against yours, "say my name, beg me for it."

"Maegor…" you whined, breathless as you bounced on him, "My King… please, I- I need to cum."

"Of course you do… but first you need to make me fill you up," he reminded you, his voice so low that almost sounded like a growl, "so go on, keep squeezing me with this tight little pussy and I'll give you what you wish for."

His words buzzed into your ears and made your mind go fuzzy. It seemed as if they were enough to make you regain a little strength, for you started to ignore the soreness on your thigh muscles and started to jump.

Soon the sound of your arse smacking against his clothed thighs was heard around the empty room, your moans became louder as Maegor's grunts were silenced against your shoulder, which he carelessly bit. The slight pain made you see stars as your breath became hard.

"Cum! Please, please, cum!" You beg him, whiny chants as you desperately moved on top of him, "Fill me up, my King… please, please!"

His cock twitched inside you whilst your pleads were echoing, he hummed in delight, feeling your heavy breathing against his neck.

"Fuck- That's it, little whore… keep squeezing my cock like that," he mumbled, already feeling the weight on his pelvis, making his thrust more sloppy and slower.

But you were eager, and you kept bouncing, sweating and panting as the waves of pleasure were too much. You were right there, about to explode on his cock, but you had to hold back and wait for him. That would only make you more desperate.

"Maegor, please!" you whined, "please, cum!"

A hiss escaped from his lips as he buried his face on your neck, biting the skin he found there as his cum suddenly filled you up. Strings of his seed brimming your drenching cunt as you could not hold it any longer and you let yourself go into the overwhelming pleasure.

Your release exploding from you and making a mess as a loud gasp left you and your body dropped on top of him. His thick arms holding you close as your hips twitched and his cock was still pulsing inside of you. His pants were now soaked and a smug grin appeared on his handsome face.

"Mhm… seems like you have a mess to clean," he purred, breathless as he reached for your lips and kissed you, taking away the air that you so hard tried to regain.

Your trembling limbs were starting to feel numb, as you lazily followed the kiss, exhausted but satisfied. His hands now caressing your skin with subtle touches that burn your skin and fill your heart with desire… and devotion.

"Thank you," you breathed out, between kisses and soft gasps.

Maegor hummed, "Now, be a good slut and clean the mess you made."

A soft mumble left your mouth as he lift you up. As soon as he pulled out, his cum fell down your drenching cunt; Maegor moaned with the obscene view.

Carefully, you stood up only to get on your knees between his legs and look up at him. The crown in his head was threatening to fall down but neither of you seem to care. You were too busy staring at each other to even notice it.

His cock twitched when he saw your face covered in tears, and before your hand could reach for his length, he leaned forward and grabbed your hair in a tight fist, pulling you a bit closer to him.

"Tonight, when I enter my chamber, I want to see you laying on my bed, with your legs open and your cunt wet," he demanded, as you squeeze your legs feeling the warmth starting to form once again, "... ready for me to fuck you."

You only managed to nodded eagerly, your eyes shining with illusion and excitement. Maegor clicked his tongue, and a big and wicked smile was drawn upon his visage. You smile right back at him, knowing that he had chosen you over his wives… again.

After all, you have always been the King's favorite maid.

@borikenlove this is for us; the white men's whores 💕

#maegor targaryen x reader #maegor x reader #maegor the cruel #maegor x oc #maegor targaryen #maegor targaryen x y/n #maegor targaryen smut #hotd x reader #hotd au #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #hotd smut #hotd

[simpingland]

Hiii I love your writing and I would love to request a Jace fic!! Tbh I don’t really have anything super specific in mind (I’ll literally take anything at this point, the jacaerys tags are so dead). Maybe something with a shy!jacaerys? Idk honestly whatever you want!!!!

Giants and other tiny things.// Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader.

When an invitation arrives from Casterly Rock, Jace will need the help of Daemon's ward. The lady, much more sociable and simple, will accept, despite (or precisely because) she is in love with him.

A/N: thank you for reaching me!!!! I loved to write this, specially making Jace shy, cuz it makes a lot of sense to me that he can be a bit of a cinnamon roll whenever he's far from his duties. Hope you like it❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jacaerys Velaryon went down in history as a prince of great skill and talent for alliances. A dark-haired Targaryen who made his mother proud. Even in his own time, the lords of Westeros heard these rumours of his honour and talent. And it was true that he had a hand at diplomacy, but he was not so brave with people his own age. And when Prince Daemon took a ward to Dragonstone, the young lady was surprised to see a Jace with a facility for blushing, but difficulty crossing glances or even speaking without stuttering And the young lady never missed an opportunity to tease him.

In the lessons you shared together, you didn't hesitate to ask him the same question over and over again, as if you didn't quite understand what the patient Prince was explaining. The smile you and Luke exchanged when he practised his Valyrian made him even more awkward. He would sometimes 'slap' you with a piece of paper, making you laugh and ultimately dismissed from the class. And later in the day, Jace would quietly pass you his notes, feeling guilty. You liked to sit too close to him, putting your arm over his books to watch him move slyly, trying not to get a reprimand from the Septa for making too much physical contact. And when no one was looking, you would write absurd phrases and drawings in his notes and watch him shake his head, hiding a shy smile. Rarely, too afraid to be seen, Jace would write back, but not on your notes, but on your hand. Words like "tosser," "arse," and always, always, he would leave a heart so badly done that the insult was ridiculous and childish. Your soul fell a little bit out of you every time you had to erase it. Already in the first months as a ward, you had felt too much attracted to the prince. A terrible mistake, for he would be betrothed to some important lady, and your House was not big enough to negotiate a marriage.

Besides, Jace would never want you that way. Your nature was totally contrary to his. So you thought that teasing him on a daily basis would be a good way to change his image in your own mind. But it ended up having the opposite result. When you felt his gaze from afar, you needed to be prepared to look back at him, for those eyes would stay with you for nights on end. And when you looked back at him, you always ended up daring him to go on. He, of course, never did, immediately averting his eyes. His flushed cheeks when at dinner Luke would mention how clumsy he'd been during training were so cute...and you couldn't help but peek in during those training sessions, where he'd show up in confidence with his little brother. He handled the sword like a toy, making clacking noises and trying to keep it in his palm with balance. And that smile... the one that always followed with a little laugh.

He was always good to you. As soon as you arrived, Rhaena and Luke welcomed you with confidence, too much perhaps. There were three ways to hang out with them, goofing around and joking together (and Jace was always the main target), putting up with their childish and not-so-childish fights (as they were both looking forward to getting married in the future) or putting up with their honeyed and romantic words. And the fights were fun for you, not so much for Jace. It was the latter that was unbearable. You were a total outcast, and Jace would then let you sit with him wherever he was. You could tell when you were bored because you'd start to be forcibly nice for the first ten minutes. Then Jace would say something that was worthy of mockery like he was so well trained with his sword that he could kill a giant right then and there. And he could see your sweet, sympathetic girl side disappear as you laughed at his exaggerated self-confidence.

"I was joking, clearly," he tried to correct himself.

"Yeah, clearly..." you kept laughing, resting your hand on his shoulder without realising it. "A little confidence is, fine, but you mustn't overdo it."

"I was joking, ok? Giants don't even exist."

"They do exist." You said it with such sudden seriousness that Jace was a little startled and stifled a smile.

"No. They don't exist."

"They do exist, and they're on the other side of the wall."

"Have you even seen them?" He raised an eyebrow, a crooked grin. But you were wiser.

"No, but I haven't been to the other side of The Wall either. And I don't know anyone who has, so I won't accept any empty assertions. Have you been to the other side of The Wall?" You folded your arms. And Jace's little laugh echoed through your head for the rest of the day.

The prince shook his head and pushed you aside affectionately. And you spent the afternoon talking about various creatures that Jace could never compare to his beloved dragons.

Jason Lannister's first male grandson would celebrate his name day in a small but important ceremony. As the future heir to the richest house in the Seven Kingdoms after the Velaryons, they wished for Rhaenyra to go. The Princess declined, and with an excuse, asked Jace to go in her place. After all, the grandson was closer in age to Jace than to her, and having suffered enough with the Lannisters, her son must begin to see what lay ahead. Of course, to his mother, Jace said only that he would do so without protest, but in the privacy of the young friends feeding the dragons, he begged Luke to join him.

"No way. If it seems boring to you, the most 'proper' person I know, then I can't imagine what kind of nightmare you want to drag me into."

"It doesn't have to be boring. I just don't want to go alone... I don't know what to prepare for, it's a..."

"Party?" Rhaena finished for him.

"Yes... Please, Luke, come with me, you know how to make friends better than I do." Jace was about to get down on his knees with his begging.

"That's true, but I don't want to. Lannisters don't make good friends. Besides, you should learn these things on your own. We shouldn't be your only friends."

"Do you have other friends?" He asked him wryly. When you and Rhaena laughed, Jace turned to you both and then you immediately knew you'd made a mistake.

"What about you, ladies? Please...maybe you meet a nobleman of your liking..."

"I'm already betrothed!" Rhaena quickly excused herself, leaving you all alone.

"I can't, I have to..." as you made up an excuse, Jace's eyes narrowed on you. He seemed to be bracing himself for another refusal and his expression made him even more handsome. "...Alright."

It would be a lie if you said you weren't nervous. Not only did you have to choose an appropriate dress, you also had to fly with Jace to get there. Either that or spend a week in a carriage. That second option, as much as you shouldn't, was the one you wanted most. But Rhaenyra wanted the Lannisters not to forget that dragons still existed and that their future king was a good rider. When you mounted Vermax, Jace seemed more nervous than you. Luke, Daemon and Rhaenyra had already let you fly with them on their dragons, and the feeling was fantastic, and you didn't expect any different now. Of course, being so close to Jace was something that seemed to make him uncomfortable, and you tried not to tighten your grip too much. The ride was short, and the skies were calm, so you both enjoyed spectacular views, his speed allowing you to keep your hands loosely on his shoulders. You let Jace tell you everything he had studied about the places you were gazing at, and there was a moment when he fell completely silent.

"Jace?" You asked. "Have you seen anything?"

"No, I just...I thought you weren't listening." He tilted his head a little to try to look at you.

"Well, I am. So go on."

You saw a smile appear as he looked straight ahead again, and continued with his stories. The stories could be boring, they were always about offended men killing other offended men and marrying their orphaned daughters. But Jace told them with such devotion that it was much better than when the Maester sat you down to write such stories. And though you knew most of them already, Jace made new sense of it all.

The young Lannister invited a few more young men, and you were struck by the "austerity" of the dinner. Few were the lords of their houses, for they were all about as young as you and Jace. Of course, the most important guest was Jace, and to your chagrin, there was only one other woman. Beside you stood the young hair of House Tully, as tall as he was dull, and the boy of House Tarth, as short as he was annoying. You could see Jace's face with that serious expression he wore when he tried to be diplomatic, but the Lannister's stupid, disinterested tone made him look out of place. You couldn't help him in the conversation because the heir of Tarth kept making noise, fiddling with his knife as he epically narrated his way of cutting the steak. Jace saw your irritation and sent you a sympathetic glance. You made a not-so-disguised mimicry with your knife as if you now wanted to stick the knife into the boy. The poor prince opened his eyes wide, fearing you had been seen.

"Will you be quiet now, Lord Bryndemere?" The voice of the young Lady Glover rang out loudly, startling everyone. Her dark dress full of leathers and metals gave her a more dignified air than many of the other men there. Of course, the boy stopped and you saw how he was almost on the verge of tears, but you felt no pity at all. And from the smiles of the guests, you were not the only one who was grateful. When the music began, you lost all faith that you could hear Jace's conversation, and when the young Lannister yawned undisguised, the Prince's disappointment broke your heart.

Since you were both bored, you decided to entertain yourself as you did at home. Under the table, your foot slyly groped the floor until you found one of Jace's feet and stepped on it. You didn't hurt him, but he gave you a furtive glance as he quickly moved his feet away. You just smiled at him and shrugged. You did it again, and then again, until Jace couldn't help but retaliate, and wanted to step on you again. Of course, he was more brutish, and when he stepped on you, your smile disappeared as you held back a whimper. Jace panicked for a second, but when you stomped him back, all his pity disappeared.

"Is something wrong, my Prince?" the Lannister asked.

"What? No, no." Jace blushed. He was about to let you win. He didn't. He threw his foot against yours again, but you got lucky.

"What in the seven hells?" Lord Tully snapped angrily. They all turned to him. Jace went white, and before he had to have an even worse time, you decided to lie.

"A rat!"

And you sowed panic with your lie. Everyone rose from their chairs, the braver ones keeping their distance from the table as you scanned the floor for the rodent. The not-so-brave climbed into their chairs, and those in question were little Bryndemere of Tarth and the Lannister himself. Lady Glover picked up her knife confidently, and approached you.

"Where has it gone?" she asked you. For a moment you found it hard to continue the lie, too pleased with the result. But acting was also fun for you.

"I don't know, I just saw it running around!" Your exaggerated tone was more than familiar to Jace and you watched as he tried to pretend he was looking for the rat when in truth he was chuckling under his breath.

The dinner ended there and then, partly because of the rat and partly (and largely) because of the host's embarrassment. You retired to the room that had been prepared for you, and alone you laughed at the events. There were two beds, and the room itself looked like a small house that no peasant could afford. And while Jace was taking off his boots, you were taking off your troublesome dress in your room.

"I have to admit, little Lord Tarth has given me some pity," Jace said from his bed.

"That's because you haven't had him beside you. Lady Glover is my new heroine. I'll compose odes to her." Your response made him laugh.

"You're way too dramatic."

You walked out of the room, your hair already down. And you watched as Jace had also settled in, sitting on his bed and somewhat surprised to see you for the first time with your hair just the way it was.

"I may be too dramatic, in fact, it is a talent, but I've saved you from making a very awkward apology, Jacaerys." You put your hands on your waist, feigning offense.

"You're right." He rose from the bed. "Thank you."

He was back to that diplomatic tone.

"Oh, Jace, it was nothing. It's been fun, we should lie more often. Now do me a favour and help me get the sleeves off my dress."

You turned away, hiding your own blush. You didn't want to call a maid for something as simple as undoing buttons, but you already knew your arms wouldn't reach and you weren't smart enough to think of another dress. Besides, that one looked spectacular on you. You felt Jace come up behind you, and by the way he hesitated before putting his hands behind your back you knew he was nervous too.

"I wasn't talking about the rat..." his fingers were precise, not clumsy at all, and he paid attention to what he was doing, carefully releasing your sleeves. "Thank you for making this fun. Sometimes I'm too serious...but you're not. And I don't- I don't mean that offensively, I mean...you're fun, and young and light. And I feel like you rub off on me, and that with you I'm a version of me where everything is easier."

He finished undoing each button and didn't pull away. You turned to look at him and watched as his eyes travelled from the floor to your eyes. You couldn't help but touch him, your hand seemed to travel to his face on its own, and your fingers caressed his cheek, so clean-shaven and with those pronounced cheekbones. Who could deny the authenticity of Jace "Targaryen"? No one who had seen him in person, of course.

"The politics make men old and ugly, I'm just looking out for your good looks..." you joked, and felt his dimple in your hand. "I know you have too much pressure on you. We all know that, and forgive me if Luke and I ever go too far."

"Easy...I like your jokes. They make me feel smart when the maesters tell you off. I like every little thing you say to me and every idea you have in that weird but strangely beautiful mind of yours."

Okay, this was a little payback from Jace. For it was you now who wanted to pull away and push him away, unable to contain your blushes and wanting to scream at his words. And he could see it, because Jace was smart and attentive, but he didn't expect your reaction. You quickly pulled your hand away from his face, but no one could wipe the smile off your face.

"Wow..." was all you could think of.

"I've never seen you at a loss for words before," he joked.

"I'm not used to so much...appreciation."

"But...you like this 'appreciation'?"

"Yes...I liked it. And I'm not as good with words as you."

Jace took your hand and looked at it, carefully touching the rings that decorated it.

"Well, one thing I've always admired about you is that you always come up with something without needing to use too many words."

And then he looked into your eyes with all the confidence he had always lacked. And your body and mind stopped struggling to get that one thing you had always dreamed of and had forbidden yourself. You threw yourself to his lips, and you felt Jace release your hand to pull your body closer, holding your waist. His lips were so full that it felt so much better than you had imagined, and Jace was slow, enjoying the quietness of the room. When you pulled apart, Jace seemed to realise what had just happened, and you immediately felt terrible. After all, you weren't his fiancée.

"I'm sorry..." you said, pulling away.

"Didn't you like it?" he asked, searching for your face.

"Yes! Yes, I liked it..." you reassured him. "I just don't want to get my hopes up."

"Get your hopes up?"

"I've dreamed of this kiss since the day I met you. But even then I knew someone like you wouldn't marry me. I'd probably marry some common lord like little Bryndemere. And you know, no matter what, I'll be happy as long as I don't get to marry a Tully. He'll bore me to death."

You laughed to yourself, trying to hide the true sorrow you felt at your own reality. This kiss would be one of many that Jace would receive from multiple ladies, when you were already far away, locked in some castle and married to someone other than him. You had already gotten used to the idea, and that kiss was at once as broad and grand as it was scant and short. Now it was Jace who caressed your face.

"I will not allow you to marry Bryndemere. I couldn't bear to live out my days knowing you were away, trying to stab a child. And I won't let you marry a Tully, either, because I know you'd be kicked out of the castle on the third day. I think you'd better stay by my side."

Then he kissed you again, stroking your hair and pulling you even closer that before. You slept in his bed, where you spent the night talking about things that didn't matter, and about things that did. Morning came and you found yourself alone in the bed, Jace was up early and when you came down to say goodbye, he was already waiting for you outside. Before you left, Lady Glover stopped you in the middle of your way.

"Are you the girl who likes giants so much?" she asked you, frowning but in a much kinder tone than you had heard her the night before.

"Yes, you could say they intrigue me..." that was the most correct answer.

"Well, just so you know, my father and Lord Stark travelled to the wall a few years ago. And my father brought home a giant skull. Giants are hard to kill, but they're not immortal...my mother hates to see it in the living room, but I like it, it's creepy." She sniffed air and waited for you to react. When you gawked she gave you a dirty look.

"Giants do exist?"

"Are you deaf? I just told you they do."

"I'm sorry, it's just that... you just made me so happy. I just won so many arguments, my lady." If you could have, you would have hugged her, but the girl wasn't very encouraging.

"Well... now I understand why the Prince asked me to tell you. Anyway, you southern people are so cynical. You can come to see the skull any time, but I warn you, there might be rats in the castle as well."

And she left. When you arrived at Vermax the Prince had already mounted and was smiling at you expectantly. He helped you up and this time you were not afraid to cling to his back, your hands on his chest and your face between his neck and shoulder.

"If Princess Rhaenyra does not let me marry you, Jacaerys Velaryon, I will become the most hateful and irritating lady in the Seven Kingdoms."

"Rest assured, the Princess will not let the heir of Tarth be in danger."

And with a gentle punch on the shoulder, Jace laughed and turned to kiss you sweetly on the lips before ordering Vermax to rise.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #jacerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #house of the dragon imagines #jacaerys x reader #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #harry collett #hotd jacaerys

[n1ghtwr1ter]

This is how it ends:

Gideon is going to take Alecto’s place as the soul of the Earth, because Alecto is long-dead and you can’t go home again. This will not involve her being Gideon anymore, mind you - the soul of a planet isn’t anything like a human being, because it is so large and contains so many multitudes. It contains concepts, like love and hate and forgiveness and mercy. It contains concepts like the freedom of the winds to blow, the mercy of the rains to soak the earth, the forgiveness of spring after a long and devastating winter. All of these, we have seen, Gideon also contains - and so the Earth will be Gideon, after a fashion. Hell, I suspect that the new citizens of Earth might even *name* it Gideon.

Gideon will be big and bright, full of promise and purpose. She will love the people who walk upon her ground, who ply her waters, who till her soil and coax new life from bare dirt. She will be a wonderful place to live - a new paradise, even, if you’re from the dead and dying Houses or the desperately struggling exoplanets. And in all the ways that matter, she will be Gideon.

And in all the ways that don’t matter, she won’t be Gideon anymore. They’re little ways, ways that will only matter to a very few, who will likely tell themselves that this is a good ending, this is the best thing for her, she always wanted freedom and what’s freer than being an entire planet? You can’t lock up a planet anywhere. They will tell themselves not to stand at her grave and weep. She isn’t there; she’s everywhere.

But you can’t kiss a planet. You can’t hold a planet. You can feel the whisper of the breeze through your hair, but it will never be her breath ghosting across your skin. You can feel the touch of the water all around you as you wade into the sea, but it will never be her arms embracing you. You tell yourself that you have no right to her, never did - especially not after how you treated her, especially not after what she did for you and, eventually, did for everyone - but you can’t help it: you miss her. It’s Gideon, and she belongs to everyone - but you miss your Gideon. And she is gone. You will never see her again.

It’s a very lovely and poetic ending and it’ll be a fitting end for the series but I hate it with every fiber of my being because god fucking dammit, those two kids deserved to be able to have their own lives, to learn how to be human beings together, to learn haltingly and with plenty of mess how to love each other in ways that did not rend or scourge. But I truly don’t think they will.

I know, I know, I’m a pessimist, what’s the evidence, etc.

- all of the parallels being established between Gideon and Alecto:

“The resting place of Harrowhark’s one true love,” how it’s Gideon’s sword now lying there when Harrow enters the tomb

The golden eyes

The healing abilities

The forgiveness

The love

The urge to be Harrow’s cavalier, and John’s

The anger

But also, I’m pretty sure Tamsyn said somewhere that all of the series is just cover for one simple, stupid joke. And what’s simpler and stupider than

I’m sure there’s a lot more evidence that I can’t remember just now - I’ll add it onto this post later like my little conspiracy board. I just can’t be arsed to look it up right now because thinking about it makes me want to die. But I’ve been very reluctantly working on this theory for months now and nothing I’ve seen has convinced me I’m wrong.

#gideon nav #the locked tomb #harrowhark nonagesimus #griddlehark #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth #alecto the ninth #alecto theories #atn theories #TLT theories #more of my miserable pessimistic bullshit #Alecto the first

[danielfeketewrites]

DOCTOR WHO TOP 10 - 12th Doctor

The penguin with his arse on fire.

10. The Swords of Kali

This story has everything a good Doctor Who comic needs - jumping between past and future, flashbacks featuring the fourth Doctor, a space goddess, vampires, lesbians... Everything.

9. Face the Raven

Sarah Dollard debuts with a bang. She paints such a vivid world in this one... I really wish she wrote more episodes than just Face the Raven and Thin Ice (which almost made the cut as well, another bloody good Capaldi episode). Please, Russell, ask her to come back.

8. Under the Lake / Before the Flood

The perfect Base Under Siege, with an excellent and likeable cast, a great monster (I love the Fisher King), and a fun involvement of time-travel. I can't help but love this one. My favourite Toby Whithouse script.

7. The Husbands of River Song

And my favourite Christmas special... I love River. I've always loved her. But this episode goes beyond that. The charm, the vibe... It's such a sweet and funny story.

6. Oxygen

Ah, my beloved "anti-capitalist zombie horror in space". It hits all the right beats and I'm just amazed how well Jamie Matthieson constructs the situations in his Doctor Who episodes, where he usually gets rid of the sonic screwdriver as well as the TARDIS. He does it so efficiently. He makes great Doctor Who horror seem effortless. Back in... Oh, I dunno. 2019? This was the first ever script I printed out and read in it's entirety. So it means a lot to me. An excellent episode for sure.

5. Best-laid Plans

Another Paul Spragg Memorial winner. This might just be my favourite one. In it the Doctor visits a shop that sells ideas to villains. An excellent premise and an excellent short story. Go listen to it, it's for free on the Big Finish website.

4. Four Doctors

Paul Cornell's take on The Day of the Doctor. This was a mini-series, published for the 10th anniversary of New Who by Titan. And it's just utterly excellent. I especially enjoy the dynamic where 10 and 12 hate each other and 11 is trying to be the mediator between the two of them, as he's able to get along with both his former and future self. The story offers glimpses at sins of alternate futures, as well as a sequel to one of my favourite 1st Doctor stories. Check it out if you haven't done so yet. It's brilliant.

3. Heaven Sent

I love Heaven Sent. It's beautiful and poignant and precise and well-thought out... Personally, there are two stories with the 12th Doctor I like more than this. Obviously, that's why it's at number 3. But I have to admit - this one deserves to top all the polls. It's really that good. Peter Capaldi, Steven Moffat and Rachel Talalay all operating at 100% of their capacity. It's magnificent.

2. World Enough and Time / The Doctor Falls

Peter Capaldi, Steven Moffat and Rachel Talalay all operating at 100% of their capacity. It's magnificent. Again. But this time, it is also the end of an era. The most gorgeous, beautiful end of an era. Bleak and dark, yet hopeful and charming. Fanservicy, with a multi-Master story a Genesis of the Cybermen, yet never losing track of the real story. I really think it's the best New Who series finale. It felt like it was made for me.

1. Mummy on the Orient Express

And yet, out of all the episodes of this era, my love burns the brightest for this one. Jamie Mathieson made a simple murder mystery in space... And then he made it perfect. This is the episode where Peter Capaldi really becomes the Doctor. I've been thinking about the "sometimes the only choices you have are bad ones" speech for nearly a decade and it has helped me in some difficult times. It's precise, it's playful, it's dark... And above all, it's Doctor Who.

#doctor who #12th doctor #twelfth doctor #peter capaldi #doctor who eu #60th anniversary #top 10 #dfpost

[peri-helia]

Love, Unsaid

Joe x Nicky Drabble. Canon typical violence, Character death (Nicky starts off dead but he’s fine), they hug it out, that’s it, that’s the fic

It’s slow going, removing the sword from Nicolo’s gut.

King Arthur probably had an easier time removing the sword from the stone. Between the constant rain lashing down on them and the constant blood swelling fresh at the wound, the mud that was once this forsaken battlefield anchoring Yusuf where he stands, it is no easy task. He’d snapped the arrows that had landed in Nicolo’s shoulders, the heads have already been expelled by his immortality. When Nicolo revives they’re going to have to reconsider which cause they lend their swords to, coin or no coin.

Still, it is nice to fight together, rather than fighting each other. It had been getting old, in a way they apparently don’t anymore. They are not quite friends, not yet. They shake hands if they part, clasp each other’s shoulders. Nicolo is showing himself to be a kind soul, at his core, repentant and eager to learn.  

This fucking sword.

Yusuf coughs with exertion, throwing his aching hands in the air. They are the only fighters left, only the scavengers, human and bird alike now picking their way through the available lootings.

His hands slip on the smoothed prongs of the handguard, wet with rain and water and blood and sweat before Yusuf swears, bends his knees and yanks.

There is a chorus of sounds, a squelching, wrenching crunch before the sword glides free and Yusuf tilts backwards, falling on his arse in the mud. All those minstrals and bards glorifying battles want murdered in a way that sticks. Flinging the weapon aside, he claws his way back over to Nicolo. Those singular eyes are still more reticent of seaglass rather than seafoam.

“Nicolo. Nicolo” Yusuf calls gently, shaking the other man’s shoulder.

“Nicolo”

There’s no movement. Not even a twitch to his little finger.

He glances down at the wound, washed clean by the rain. It’s healing. It must be healing.

Larger wounds take longer they know this. The weapon had obstructed his healing that’s all.

He’s not dead. Nicolo di Genova, the eternal thorn in his side, the handsome bastard who is his only constant in this world is not dead. He’s not allowed to be. He’s not going to be killed permanently by some jumped up rat-faced shit from England after everything Yusuf tried all those years ago.

Yusuf puts a hand on Nicolo’s cheek, still warm despite the icy sheen of water soaking them through.

“Nico”

There’s a wet gasp that’s halfway between death rattle and coming air that always accompanies when they are dragged from death to life and Nicolo bolts upright. He gasps several times, sucking in great lungfuls of air greedily.

“You’re alright, You’re alright, it’s over. I’m here. We’re here” Yusuf finds himself repeating, rubbing Nicolo’s back of all things. Nicolo coughs once more, before twisting violently away, still grasping Yusuf’s wrist hard before he vomits.

Yusuf’s already reaching for the waterskin at his own hip as Nicolo spits the last of the bile out. “I’m sorry,” Nicolo rasps, the words coming slow. “Arrows were poisoned”

That English fucker.

No wonder the healing had taken so long. Nicolo’s system had been fighting off two things at once.

“It’s not your fault, my friend” Yusuf says before he can stop himself. Nicolo obviously hears him because he stares open mouthed at Yusuf for a moment, before wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He nods once, a sharp bob of the head as if he can’t quite believe it. Then before Yusuf can stop him, Nicolo stumbles upright, staggering to his feet like a drunkard. He rubs the rain from his face and stands before Yusuf, trembling slightly.

“How – how bad was it?”

They’re healing has quickened over the years, but worse deaths take longer.

“Bad” Yusuf says. They both need food and warmth. What’s done is done.

Nicolo hums, voice still worn. He’s still trembling too, probably cold. His eyes are big and wide and he’s never looked so young to Yusuf as he does now, except maybe when they’d come back to life that first time around, when everything was new and strange and yet still the same.

If it was anyone else, anyone from Yusuf’s old life, he’d probably have hugged them before now. He’s a tactile soul, always reaching out. But they’ve never hugged before.

“Do you – do you want?”

Nicolo barely looks at Yusuf’s half open arms before he falls into them, arms coming to wrap around Yusuf’s middle. Yusuf jumps when he feels a cold nose bury into his neck.

“Thank you Yusuf” he murmurs quietly after a moment, without letting go.

*

It’s so nice to be held, after years of hacking away across the continents, of lying and running and never getting close except out of necessity to sleep, or shoot or bandage.

Nicolo feels the moment all the tension goes out of Yusuf’s shoulders, so that he sags against Nicolo’s shoulders. He can’t help it, he smiles into the other man’s shoulder. This beautiful man who has opened his arms again and again to Nicolo, literally now, despite everything.

It’s so quiet, after a battle. During, you can’t hear yourself think, let alone hear what’s going on – it all melts into one incomprehensible din. Arrows and shields clanging, swords clashing, people screaming. After death has swept the field, it’s deafening in another way altogether.

They’re still holding each other.

In the back of his mind, Nicolo is vaguely away that maybe this hug has gone on a little…long than may be polite. He has taken so much, he should pull back, lest such a blessing not be offered again.

But when he goes to disentangle himself, Yusuf merely shifts his weight to his other leg and Nicolo feels his fingers dig into the mail of his shirt. Of its own volition, Nicolo’s hand comes up to cup the back of Yusuf’s head.

Well. Maybe they both need it.

*

“Andromache!”

Nile watches as Andy gets literally swept – more like scooped – off her feet into a massive hug by Joe. It’s the first time they’ve been separated as a team, the first time Nile’s seen a reunion after a long period of time. The first time she’s seen Andy all but giggle as she’s swayed gently from side to side, feet dangling as Joe hugs her.

Then its Nicky’s turn and its different but no less tender, the way he cups the back of Andy’s head, big arms coming round to wrap around her. They hold each other just as long, just as warmly.

And then the couple’s eyes fall on Nile. They’ve given each other their hands before, clasped each other’s shoulders, hell even had a thumb war on that really fucking long flight to Tripoli.

Nicky looks at Nile for a long moment and then, almost conversationally, opens his arms the tiniest fraction, intent clear. She can take it or leave it and either way is absolutely fine.

God, Nile’s missed hugs. And Nicky and Joe? They give the best fucking hugs. Just…being lightly squeezed, so much that her aching shoulders finally seem to release, in a way that there’s no limit.

What was it Nicky had said?

We’re not meant to be alone.

#my writing #tog fic #tog drabbles #joe x nicky

[madame-fear]

I'm a big believer that sweet twin Jacaerys would give his twin sister back rubs to ease the pain of having SUCH BIG TITS. After all, he enjoys the gifts of nature 🥹

Bless the Seven for providing Jace's sweet little twin sis (you!) such enormous tits 🛐

At this point, you wouldn't even be aware that Jacaerys wants to fuck you ruthlessly despite you being his twin sister. Literally, he does anything to slightly touch you, or be near you. For example, if he decides to be a good brother and teach you how to hold a sword, he'll press his body tightly against yours and kinda rub himself against your arse 👀 but oh baby, how unaware he is that you like it.

And, since you like the way he is with you — and always desperately trying to touch you —, you always ask him with sweet puppy eyes to rub your back to soothe the pain of carrying such big tits, of course. Sometimes, you don't even need to ask! He'll just straight offer himself... while being both in your chambers, alone.

Jace would sit behind of you, and would leisurely and very tenderly unlace part of your dress, allowing it to be let loose only to reveal your beautiful back, and it's soft, precious skin he so badly longs to feel in every way. His hands would lovingly take all the time in the world to ease your back pain, feeling your skin under his fingertips. The way you give yourself to him in pleasure — releasing a satisfied sigh — at feeling how his touch immediatly soothes you, would make it impossible for him to hide the hardness in between his pants.

And you can notice, obviously. But... it's quite fun to enjoy him trying to so badly contain himself when he rubs his hands against your skin, and you always look for him to ease all your pain.

♡ taglist : ♡

@damatheirin @jacesvelaryons @tickle-euphoria @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys strong x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon smut #hotd x reader #hotd smut #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon smut

[johannestevans]

Sprout

For Monstrous May 2024 Day 3. Also on Ao3.

Kabru of Utaya/Laios Touden; Laios/mushroom monster. Cum inflation, belly bulging, throatfucking, power dynamics, mild D/s.

“Wait,” Laios says, putting his hand over Kabru’s chest to stop him short, and Kabru looks forward, immediately bending his knees, putting himself in a ready stance with his hand on the hilt of his sword, and Laios steps forward, examining the mushroom sprouting up from the ground. It looks unobtrusive with its fat bulbous head and its smaller, white stalk.

“Seriously?” Kabru asks. “A mushroom?”

He doesn’t, as someone else might, immediately lash out with his sword, but stays slightly behind Laios, staring at it suspiciously.

“It’s bait,” Laios says, and unbuckles his armour.

“Oh, no,” Kabru says, and Laios looks at his face, at the tight mask of it, Kabru’s lips pressed together, but although he protests, he doesn’t actually grab Laios to keep him back. “Seriously? You said it was breeding season, but— This?”

“Yeah,” Laios says, giving him a grin. “This mushroom sets out a small sprout in the hope that another monster will touch it or stand over it, and then it strikes upward to grab it or penetrate it before the rest of the body follows. This is a male, though – it won’t put eggs in me or anything. These ones just copulate for pleasure!”

“You can tell it’s a male?” Kabru asks, but he takes several steps back as Laios tosses his armour and his leggings aside. It’s— Exciting. Fun. That Kabru is willing to be part of this project with him, to study this stuff with him.

Chilchuck had dryly commented that Kabru was interested in studying Laios, not the monsters, but Laios thinks it’s the same end result, if Kabru is here with him, close with him, watching him, whether he’s interested in the monsters or Laios himself – and besides, as Falin had pointed out, to be interested in Laios, you have to be interested in monsters.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Laios tells him warmly, and Kabru gives him a stare, his dark cheeks darkening further the way they sometimes do when Laios compliments him, or tells him he enjoys his company.

“Just— get to it,” he says, and Laios steps over the mushroom’s head.

* * *

It’s astonishingly fast, the movement of the mushroom stalk – it shoots up from the ground and straight into Laios’ arse, sinks inside him and makes Laios let out a desperate noise. He stumbles on his feet, standing awkwardly on his tiptoes and throwing out his hands to balance himself, and then the ground begins to rumble.

Kabru stumbles back further, flattening himself against the wall – not for the first time, he asks himself why he’s allowing this, why he’s allowing Laios’ infuriating curiosity and his desire to study, to experience, lead them further into the depths of this awful dungeon so that he can, what, get filled with…

What do mushrooms fill people with? Spores?

The ground bursts apart with a shower of soil, and Kabru shields his eyes to keep it from getting in them even as flecks of dirt and sand land on in his hair and over his shoulders, but when he looks again he can’t believe the shadow cast over him. The mushroom man is easily three or four times Laios’ size, so that Laios is tiny against his belly, seems utterly dwarfed by him.

“Laios!” Kabru hisses, and he hates himself for the loss of control, as if the thing isn’t going to hear his harsh whisper, but it doesn’t turn its huge head toward him, doesn’t even jump or flinch as it bands its big arms around Laios’ chest and belly. It’s bipedal and roughly man-like in shape, reminds him of Senshi’s golems except for the material its made of – and unlike them, it seems to lack eyes or a mouth.

It has a cock, though.

The little sprout already pinning Laios, the thing that had lifted him off the ground, is nothing compared to the huge, fat cock that sits up between Laios’ thick thighs.

“It can’t hear you,” Laios says breathlessly, struggling slightly and then letting out a wheeze as the mushroom thing obviously tightens its grip, then lifts him up higher. “It’s big!”

“Yeah, maybe too big?” Kabru suggests. “Should I try to—”

“I can take it,” Laios assures him earnestly, eagerly, and then he howls in what has to be pain as well as pleasure as the mushroom pulls out its placeholder and jabs the fat mushroom head (ha) of its actual cock up against his arse and forces Laios down on top of it. It doesn’t rely on gravity – Kabru doesn’t think gravity would be forceful enough on its own.

He helplessly kicks out his legs and whines, keens out a breathless noise, and Kabru stares, his jaw dropping in shock and horror at the way Laios’ belly bulges obscenely with it, the fact that he can see the outline of the mushroom thing’s cock through Laios’ skin. It seems to groan, a thunderous sound that rumbles out from its belly or its chest, and then with its paws dropping to Laios’ waist.

It drives powerfully up and into him, moving what must amount to its hips to thrust inside him, and Laios’ moans and scrambles helplessly back against its chest, his cock bouncing and swinging around with the force of the mushroom thing driving up and into him. Kabru knows full well that he’s enjoying it, can see how hard he is and how his cock is dripping, even as his belly is forced to bulge outward from the force of what’s stuffed inside his guts.

“You can’t actually like this,” Kabru says, and Laios heaves in a desperate gasp, his cheeks burning red, sweat on his cheeks, on his brow, glistening on his fat pecs. Kabru wonders how much he’ll gape after this, how wide his arse’ll be spread, and the thought sends heat through him, makes his skin prickle with want. He likes it, after they’re done, likes to sit forward and look at Laios when he’s too tired and too wrung-out to look back at him, likes to see the strain in his muscles, likes to look at the marks left on his flesh, his bruises, the bite marks, the scratches Kabru’s dragged down his back. “You can’t actually enjoy this.”

“You want to try?” Laios asks, and Kabru actually laughs, hears the noise ring in his own ears before the mushroom thing, keeping one arm banded around Laios’ belly to keep him there while it sticks its other paw into his mouth, and Laios moans around it. The sound is muffled even before it sinks it deeper, down Laios’ throat and making him choke around it, his throat bulging just like his belly is.

He's spitted between the arm down his throat and the cock forcing open his arse, and Kabru sees his eyes widen, see Laios’ arms and legs kick and scramble helplessly, because then the mushroom man rumbles again.

Whatever it’s pumping into Laios, spores or otherwise, it’s thick and liquid – Laios’ belly suddenly bulges outward like a balloon, a pregnant swell that pushes forward his hard cock at the same time more of it pumps down his throat. Kabru swears he can the liquid sloshing in him, sees some of it dripping white and thick down his chin and the sides of his cheeks, down his neck and between his pecs, at the same time some of it drizzles and drips down his thighs.

It drops him unceremoniously, and Kabru keeps back as it buries itself back into the earth, rumbling a little happier now as its huge body disappears bit by bit underneath the surface, and Kabru looks down at Laios’ body, sprawled on his back. He looks pregnant with thick mushroom man cum, has it spattered down his front and his thighs, and Laios’ eyes are a little defocused, breathing heavy.

Kabru gently kicks the inside of Laios’ thigh, making him spread his legs apart, and he looks down at Laios’ hole, no longer a tight furl but now a gaping hole, dripping white, the edges of it red and slick.

“Need to make some notes?” Kabru asks him, and Laios smiles up at him, giddy, dreamy, absolutely fucking out of it.

“Mmm,” he says.

Kabru remembers when he used to be shy about sex – nothing a few months with Kabru hadn’t trained out of him.

“Want to dictate, and I’ll write them down?”

“I can’t stay here,” Laios slurs, pushing himself up on his elbows, and Kabru watches greedily, the way his belly shifts, his soft cock – when had he come? – hanging down between his legs. “It won’t be long before it recovers, wants to go again.”

Kabru’s mouth feels dry at the thought of watching him again, watching it fuck him until Laios comes again – comes again.

Laios pushes himself up, and Kabru puts his heel hard between Laios’ pecs and pushes down on his sternum, shoving him down again. Laios looks up at him, mouth open, his eyes wide.

His pupils dilate before Kabru’s gaze.

“Stay there,” Kabru tells him. “I’ll get your notebook, and you dictate.”

“’Kay,” Laios says, and smiles up at him. “It’s nice that you’re starting to like them too, Kabru. Monsters.”

“I don’t like monsters,” Kabru tells him.

“You like watching them with me,” Laios says. “It ends up the same at the end of the day.”

“By the end of the day, I might watch you burst,” says Kabru, and feels a thrill run up his spine at the moan that comes out of Laios’ throat, and the way his spent cock twitches.

Leave a tip, if you'd like to!

#musings #labru #monstrous may #monstrous may 2024 #dungeon meshi #kabru of utaya #laios touden

[morgana-artt]

P X GN!READER

Note: I may be willing to do a part 2 if people want. Sorry I haven't written anything lately, life's been a bit (a lot) unmotivated.

_________________________________________

It was your job. You were meant to do this. The puppet was your target.

Who were you exactly? Someone who was paid in great money to scout out a black haired puppet, wearing a blue coat, a metal arm, and a green lantern. You weren't given much detail, but you couldn't not take the money. You had a young sibling that was hidden within Krat to keep safe. You were planning on getting out and going somewhere safer with them and needed the money for travel and food.

You weren't proud of some things that you did but you didn't exactly have a lavish life with your sibling, what with being born in the slums and having to work odd jobs in order to make sure your sibling was fed. The job you were given now was big in money and you knew you couldn't lose this.

Making your way through the broken up city, you passed a few puppets that looked to be destroyed recently. You could smell oil and burnt metal and walked towards a faint sound of fighting, you turned the corner to see a person fighting against one of the larger puppets. Your gaze turned to their waist, 'green lantern...', your gaze turned to the persons outfit, 'blue coat...', your gaze then reached to their metal arm. You waited to see the persons face wanting to confirm your suspicion.

It was him.

The one you were after.

You waited for him to get rid of the threat he was fighting and once he defeated it you decided to show yourself. "So you're the puppet I'm after?" Your voice echoed through the street, the puppet turned to you quickly and positioned his sword towards you making you chuckle. "Cute." You pulled out your own sword, "I'm supposed to take you out and drag you back...why? I have no clue and it's going to be a pain in the arse but money is money." You sighed before positioning yourself into a defense position and so did the puppet.

It was quiet as the two of your stared at each other before you made the first move, you were quick on your feet as was the puppet, you slashed your sword across as the puppet parried your move. The two of you fought, almost danced in a way as there was slashes and blocks being passed back and forth. "I'll admit...you're good" You panted, this puppet knew what he was doing and you admitted to yourself that you underestimated him. The two of you fought into the night, you weren't aware but you were inching closer to a puppet that was hidden in the corner of the street. As you were about to attack the black haired puppet, you heard the ticking behind you and turned to see a baton heading towards you. You went to block it but were pulled away to not only see that you were pulled away from the danger but to see the black haired puppet defend you as he slashed the other puppet down. He faced you and tilted his head as if asking if you were alright making you raise an eyebrow, "well...aren't you kind. Doesn't change anything though-" the puppet walked closer to you making you aim your sword at him, but he seemed to stop as a blue butterfly appeared and landed on his shoulder, he looked at it before nodding. He looked up at you before walking back and taking off into the night, you just stared at his figure that disappeared around the corner. '...crap. I can't let him go-" You huffed as you saw how dark it was getting, you couldn't leave your sibling for long and decided to head back.

Your thoughts were full of the puppet, 'a shame really...he was kind of good looking', you shook your head "really (Y/N)? God I need sleep..." You mumbled before walking into the dark streets and back to your family member.

#lies of p #lies of p x reader #lies of p imagines #lies of p x you

[starlightshadowsworld]

Agency informant Izaya

During the Decay of Angels arc, Izaya becomes a vampire.

While Ranpo's bailing out the Agency, Izaya is doing damage control to their reputation.

Using facts and logic to dispell the allegations against them in the public eye.

He's been reunited with Atsushi and Kyouka and is helping them, Lucy and Ango with things on the Sky Casino.

And gets captured by Teruko and Tachihara after stalling for time to let the others escape.

Izaya figures out that Tachihara has changed alligances and hands him a drive thst doubles as a recording device. (It's a suprise tool that will help him later.)

Given Izaya is not technically not a member of the Agency, he's bought to Fukuchi for questioning.

Izaya has his own device like Tachihara's and uses it to record everything Fukuchi says during the meeting.

Fukuchi is intrigued by him, because he knows Izaya isn't just your run of the mill informant.

"It's werid, unlike the rest of the Agency we couldn't find anything on you. It's like you don't even exist."

"Funny, I could find everything on you."

Fukuchi chuckles and tells him while I couldn't find anything online, I've heard rumours out in the wild. About a man who uses humanity like puppets.

Izaya, caught off guard but counters that "werid, because the only puppeteer I see is the man before me."

Fukuchi does the classic we're not so different you and I.

"I'm trying to make humanity better than it ever could be, erase all war with just a price. You understand that, you will join me."

Izaya, laughs his arse off because no we ain't. *That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard you can't sacrifice lives for peace. There's not a toll to pay."

Fukuchi takes this... Not so well.

And they end up fighting.

Now Izaya can hold his own in a fight. But as the fight goes on, Fukuchi outmatches and overpowers him.

There's only so much you can dodge a sword that can't bend space and time. And Fukuchi is a soilder with countless surgeries to turn him into the peak of human condition.

Izaya is strong but he's not that strong. He got the information he required and that's what counts.

But he does still have an exist strategy... That's thwarted. And in a last ditch effort, Izaya uses his ability on Fukuchi.

Hoping to use the sudden flashback of memories to catch him off guard and give him an opening to escape.

It doesn't work. Instead Izaya's overwhelmed by the things he sees, the people Fukuchi's tortured, the sheer destruction and suffering.

Fukuchi doesn't bat an eye and stabs him, in multiple futures in multiple areas to keep Izaya from being able to look away or deactivite his ability.

"Funnily enough, I wasn't asking when I said you'd join me."

Izaya, even with all of this manages to press the send button to deliver it all to the Agency just before Bram bites him.

The outfit change is basically Izaya losing his current short coat and ending up with a trench coat (like he does in the Durarara Manga).

His skins grey, his eyes are black and red like the rest of the vampire. Theres also the fact Izaya can walk now, given the reason he couldn't was psychosomatic.

And he's currently mind controlled. With any atrophy from not walking for a very long time being fixed by vampire healing.

With Bram, Fukuchi found out Izaya's ability and decides to use him to gain information.

As he has complete control over Izaya's ability, Fukuchi is able to view the memories he sees.

Fyodor totally gloats over Izaya being turned to Dazai. And he's lucky Dazai and Chuuya are so good at being composed.

Because that's their friend and big brother... You'll pay for that.

The Agency take the news horribly too, Fukuchi is livid. Atsushi takes it the worst because Izaya got captured saving him and the others.

None of them want to fight him but they do end up having too.

When the ability wears off, Izaya collapses but Atsushi is there to catch him. He carries him and helps him back into his wheelchair.

And Izaya hugs him, comforts him that it's not Atsushi's fault but his own. He took a risk but it paid off.

"Were you scared?"

"Nope, you know why? Because I knew you were all gonna save me. And you did."

#long post #Agency informant Izaya #izaya orihara #bsd fukuchi #fukuchi ouchi #bsd atsushi #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs #bsd #durarara #drrr izaya #drrr

[natashasbitxh]

Finally got to see Peter Pan Goes Wrong in West End with Charlie Russell, Matthew Cavendish, Greg Tannahill, Matthew Howell, Harry Kershaw, Clark Devlin, Jamie Birkett, Chris Leask, Ellie Morris, and Jean-Luke Worrell! They were all amazing, I thought I'd share some of my fav bits! (Warning: There's a lot)

• Firstly, programme stuff: the note from the director basically just being Chris and Trevor arguing like a married couple. Chris being too scientific and Trevor having to remind him it's supposed to be festive.

● Them leaving a note asking if anybody was a flying operator as they didn't currently have one😭

• Robert leaving the children of the Cornley Youth Theatre abandoned in a forest with limited food and knives,to prepare for their performance of Lord of the Flies. NSPCC and police had to intervene, 2 of the children are still missing today (Ben McIntyre and Sarah Cordell)

• Jonathon's interview where's he's practically begging the interviewer to take note he was 'fashionably late', when he was actually waiting for 6 hours.

• Jonathon saying (in the interview), he's been focusing on humanitarian work, such as adopting a child from Ethiopia and a child from Vietnam. And then the interviewer just replied with "That is Brad Pitt. Everything you have just said is about Brad Pitt and not yourself."

• In the cast section, Chris Bean writing "I would like to remind my father that there is a spare ticket at the box office for him if he chooses to show up." That's so sad😭

• Trevor's section ended with "trevorzbeatz/YouTube.co.uk" 😭

• Pip (assistant stage manager) just says: "They call me Big Pip up north. Trevor's cousin. Out and about and that. Nice one." Like okay yh me too Big Pip

• They tried to feed the crocodile an alarm clock😭 (RIP Nadia tho😔)

• Annie left a little note saying she's "looking for a man" and then there's some description of what she's (not) looking for

• A page saying welcome to the theatre, but it is still very much in character😭 "Director Chris Bean always fulfils his promise of giving us a show we will remember for a very long time."

•Pre-show antics: one of the assistant stage managers (I'm gonna guess Pip? Not too sure tho) was walking around looking for a hammer. I noticed that he'd act like he was looking around and then when he spotted a child he'd go and ask them. I thought that was cute🥹

• I couldn't see the wires going through the audience cause I had seats up high, but I did see Robert pulling the end of the wire whilst on stage with the help of an audience member

• Dennis was late I think, ran across the stage from the audience with a bag on

• Lucy suddenly ran off stage, Robert not far behind shouting things like "You have to do it!" (And then later on she ran back on stage,but it seemed Robert got caught up in a convo)

• Now onto the actual show, I thought Dennis singing les mis due to his headgear was pretty funny seeing as les mis was about a door or 2 down

• At one point we were clapping for something (can't remember what, but it was during the beginning Darling Family scene), and Max joined in with the clapping. Sandra had to tell him to stop with a pointed glare and a lil hand gesture

• Every appearance with Robert as the shadow was amazing, I know it's simple but I'm always impressed with the rug pull and the way he lands

• During the bit where there's too much smoke and it engulfs the pirates, Trevor comes to the rescue but does hit Chris in the arse by accident, christrev anybody?

• I will forever love Robert trying to get Dennis to pick up the sword, Dennis picking up the boat paddle and Robert going on a rant about how he's been moving his arms for the past 5 mins why would he need the paddle

• During the interval the lights would still go out occasionally, fun touch

• As Jonathan flew up before crashing down, a banner fell down with Robert holding a bean, a reference of his show Jack and the bean

• Before this, I'd only seen the BBC recorded version of Peter Pan Goes Wrong, so I rlly enjoyed the changes. Such as the mermaids, but I RLLY laughed at Robert being the Mr Bumble in Oliver that killed a child. Especially when he went to be Peter Pan before starting to sing 'Food, Glorious Food"

• The whole poison bit was incredible, Harry's improv was on FIRE. We obvs did the traditional pantomime business which made Chris mad, he very much gave teacher vibes as he sat down on the set and said it was our own time we were wasting. He also complained that this was only the matinée and they still had an evening performance to get to. Then he pointed out how somebody in the audience was hissing, "Nobody goes to a show and says 'Yeah it was good but the person in the fourth row wouldn't stop hissing'" (this resulted in a lot of children hissing whenever he appeared on stage). Then when it got to the poison bit, a child was yelling at him to hurry up, causing Chris to go on a rant about how he didn't even want children there, sitting there on their booster seats. After the child yelled at him multiple times, Chris gave up and told the child to open it for him, which they did. Then as he was leaving, we were booing again and he was like "NO NO DONT BOO ME, IT WAS THE CHILD THAT POISIONED HIM." Then as he exited, he said something along the lines of "blame the child murderer." It was insane.

• Then, when Peter asked who would try to poison him, Tink/Annie pointed at the child that opened the bottle. I think Chris Leask actually had to turn his head downwards and to the side to hide his laughing.

• I've pointed this out before, but I'm so endeared with how worried Chris was when Annie was unconscious. HE KNEELED THERE HOVERING OVER HER BODY JUST LIKE TOUCHING HER FACE, NOT SPEAKING FOR AWHILE. Adorable. Every characters reaction was adorable...sorry Annie

• I just have to say Francis' Cabaret performance to distract us from Annie was amazing. Loved the audience clapping along as well and the rest of the cast looking absolutely shocked and confused

• I loved that we heard a whole marriage fall apart through Dennis' headgear. I want to know more abt them, the husband that took over to help Dennis sounded sweet

• When Lucy slid down the ship in her wheelchair she was flung out and then caught by Trevor in a sort of bear hug, Lucy's legs wrapped around his torso. Trevor was SEVERELY judging the cast HE WAS NOT HAPPY WITH THEM. They're besties ur honour, I thought it was so cute

• Loved Francis' Cabaret performance again during the big fight scene with the set moving.

• Trevor saying something like "You've got to be joking" when Lucy picked up the book 😭

• I wanted to scream laugh at Chris lying in the bed like an ill victorian child as Lucy closed up the story, and then Dennis choosing to lie on the squished bottom bunk

• As Lucy continued to read, Chris, Sandra, Trevor, Dennis, and Max were all checking up on one another in the background. Hugs, shoulder grabs. Guys, I love Sandra and Chris' dynamic so much, Sandra was making sure he got off the bed alright and then gave him a hug

• Of course the whole end song, Max as the crocodile encouraging us to clap

It was so amazing, everybody was fantastic!! My jaw still aches from laughing so hard! Hope ppl found this interesting cause I always love when other ppl share what happened during their show😭

#mischief #mischief theatre #peter pan goes wrong #mischief comedy #goes wrong universe #cornley drama society #cornley polytechnic drama society #cornleyverse #charlie russell #sandra wilkinson #matthew cavendish #max bennett #greg tannahill #jonathan harris #matthew howell #robert grove #harry kershaw #chris bean #clark devlin #dennis tyde #jamie birkett #annie twilloil #chris leask #trevor watson #ellie morris #lucy grove #jean-luke worrell #francis beaumont #big post

[brandnewhuman]

YOOO IT YA BOI, FAVORITE CHILD HERE!!!!!!

I hear requests were open so it's crazy ape shit time 👺👺👺

Lemme getta man boobies obsessed s/o who loves s q u e e z I n dem milkers. I mean toe curling, back arching, obsessed with their honker honkers. For my bf triangle boi ofc. 😫😩

Also have a good day, drink sum hydration, eat dat raccoon trash, and sleep sometimes (last one is optional 🙃🙃)

Grabbing the bouncy

forbidden fruit

Headcanons - drabble

☆STARRING☆

Pyramid head ☆ aka the big dorito head of punishment

CONTENT

Tw: canon violence, pitiful attempts at NSFW, mature language, the big cunt being himself.

A/n: everytime I try to do something NSFW i always end up writing some hideous embarrassing atrocities but oh well, someone's trash is always someone else treasure. I did like a poll thing to know what people wanted to read first AND WHEN I TELL YOU ALMOST EVERYONE SAID PYRA TITS. YOU ALL HAVE NO FUCKING CHILL WITH ALL THAT BEING HORNY. everyone say thanks to my bruv here for requesting this gem

Ah yes, everyone's wet dream, the forbidden dorito head tits

Let's ignore the fact that if this giant bitch gets near us he would rip our sinful arses with his bare hands 

THE HORNYNESS WOULD NEVER GO UNPUNISHED. 

BUT for the sake of being silly whores let's pretend the big man can at least tolerate you and plays dumb at your questionable and foul behaviour 

Your attack at the geometry milkers took him by surprise the first time tho

It happens after he has finished his executioner duties

Ever since you have ended up in silent Hill and he has grown fond of you he likes to spend his free time observing and listening to anything you want to tell him about

He finds it so entertaining, to watch you explain things he would never understand with such passion. He kind of wishes to have the same enthusiasm for life as you do

Basically your like a cute dumb dog and he enjoys to watch your two working braincells struggle to function properly 

I think the only way you could actually grab those big ol tits is taking the chance when he's really tired 

My man walks around for hours dragging a sword as big as you, slashing shit and plus he has to exist with his own big ass heavy head 

He's built different but not that different 

PLUS, BRO ARE WE REALLY NOT ACKNOWLEDGING THE FACT THAT THIS WHORE WITH SUPERIORITY COMPLEX IT'S LIKE 7 FUCKING FEET TALL? 

I just know his shoulders and back are killing him

His relentlessness helps him to power through pain, tiredness ecc but when he actually stops and has to spend a moment being still and having time to actually think about how he feels he kind of crumbles under the weight of his exhausting life

IT IS LIKE THAT, I DON'T MAKE THE RULES. WELL, I DO BUT YEAH

The whole reason why he wanted to keep you was because you radiated some sort of calm. He literally finds himself attracted to your soft energy and when he's feeling too tired to even stand up he just looks out for you for some..YEAH WELL FOR SOME CUDDLES AND LOVE BRO. HE IS NOT JUST A GIGANTIC VIOLENT CUNT WITH A WEIRD HEAD, HE CAN BE SOFT TOO WHEN HE TRIES REALLY HARD

He's like always stressed because of what he has to do, having you around with your soothing way of being it's literally heaven for him

So when you see your big boi coming back after a long day of working, with his broad shoulders slumping slightly forward you already know what he wants

Silent Hill doesn't have many comforts so he gave you the best thing he could find for you to live in. 

Which is why you have like two really old bed mattresses on the floor, something that resembles a pillow and a blanket. 

HE WAS SO PROUD OF IT WHEN HE SHOWED YOU THE FIRST TIME. BE MORE GRATEFUL 

"You're tired, aren't you big guy?" He just nods and plants his sword on the ground before scooping you up and heading towards the bed

He doesn't even asks anymore, when is cuddle time is cuddle time and you have to just accept it 

To be fair he was already involuntarily planting your face on his stinky chest

As he dozed off you tried to slowly give his aching muscles a massage 

Everything in his body is like rock hard AND DON'T YOU EVEN TRY IT, BEHAVE YOURSELVES WITH THE FUCKING BONER JOKES

Now, as he just relaxes under your gentle touch, your hands start to wander into the small piece of heaven that is his chest 

Bro was so happy and calm he didn't suspect what your foul mine was thinking about

He has the most soft but at the same time solid daddy milkers in the whole universe. It's like grabbing a really good stress ball 

You can feel some scars underneath your hands but overall his skin is surprisingly smooth and warm

Those BADOONKAS are so fucking big bro, you have to use both hand to properly squeeze 

At first it was just a like tentative squeeze out of curiosity and he let it slide because he thought you were just trying to help him release tension and since your hands are the size of a polly pocket then you had to get really into it

Now that second squeeze tho, that was personal

he went through not all 5 but maybe three of the stages of grief

he pulled you back holding your shoulders, giving you a inquiring stare just to find you staring right back at him

AREN'T YOU EVEN ASHAMED?

"I'm not going to say I'm sorry, they're really nice"

Now he is flabbergasted 

From that moment it was like you have discovered your new reason to live

And he had to suffer the consequences of having all those bouncy hoonkas 

Everytime, EVERY FUCKIN TIME, you always grab em tits

While he finds it flattering that you find his body so nice, it creates some sort of internal conflict 

Cause, mh well how to explain… listen I'm gonna say it, PYRA HAS A SIZE KINK. NO, I WON'T EXPLAIN ANY FURTHER 

JUST KNOW THAT HE REALLY ENJOYS YOU BEING SO MUCH SMALLER THAN HIM AND JUST SO OPENLY LIKING HIS BODY 

It just boost his ego to know you find him so attractive, just the sensation of your soft hands worshipping his whole body softly but with all that care and passion

Yeah yeah, you give the stinky dorito snapped head the hots. Congrafuckinglations

I just want you all to know that I have very little knowledge of pyramid head so I'm doing shit with what vibes he's giving me and the vibes are big horny but will horny shame others 

Everytime he wants to play with you he will deny you access to his body

Just imagine this

You're about to attack his poor chest again and before you can even do anything he's already blocking you against the wall, caging both of your hands at each side of your head. "Hey! It's…it's not fair. I wasn't going to do anything" You're lying and he knows it by how red you're getting. The edge of his helmet brushes against your cheek slightly while his hands slide yours up, blocking them there to have you as expose as he wants.

His hands are so big, he can easily hold both of your wrist with just one. His other one roams freely through your body, the calloused fingertips makes you shiver. A small whimper escapes your mouth as his hand reaches your throat and squeezes just enough. You're squirming under his gaze, not from fear or displeasure but quite the opposite. He just enjoys the view of his little helpless y/n trying to get free when you both know perfectly that if he doesn't wants you to leave you're not leaving. Oh, you long feeling him so much you just can't take it when you can't reach him. 

Yeah bro really enjoys edging and denying shit like is no one business. Now that he knows your weakness he's gonna be a fucking menace

Like walking around with his whole upper body expose just to catch you staring and make you feel like a perv 

He's having the time of his life 

#slasher fandom #slashers #slasher community #slasher fanfiction #slasher x reader #horror movies #slasher headcanons #slasher #slasher movies #slasher imagines #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head

[shuttershocky]

Hey shutters! While I overall enjoyed FF16, I agree that I wish Jill did more or spoke more. I feel like there was missed potential of having a relationship more like Saber and shirou, where they both have similar mindsets and trauma. Specifically, when it came to overusing their powers and having to face the crystals' curse being similar to how Shirou and Saber did not want the other to fight but how they both needed to.

I'm still in the middle of the game (after Titan's bossfight) but it feels like Jill was written by an Aerith fan that only knew the FF7 cast from fanworks, movies, and Kingdom Hearts rather than the actual FF7, so Tifa's the tough spunky girl and Aerith's the softie flower girl when their original personalities are actually switched lol

Out of all the characters in FF16 I've seen so far, Jill was written for a role the hardest. What I mean by that is that while someone like Benedikta's an extremely standard femme fatale villain type (the kind that Urobochi would strangle midway through the season to be replaced by the real, male villain), she at least gets to revel in it. She gets to kick dogs, lose her composure, she's got at least one loyal minion she's genuinely close to and trusts in when the archetype doesn't usually, all that stuff. She gets to have fun with the role.

Jill? Jill was written to be Clive's woman before she was written to be a character, and it feels so glaringly obvious from how she's treated. She almost never gets to talk to anyone else other than Clive despite having screentime second only to Clive, she doesn't challenge him in any way, all of the other people barely acknowledge she's even there!

Like half of the main quest dialogue is

Plot Person: Bugger me, these Imperials won't live and let live won't they Clive? Plot plot plot dialogue dialogue. We oughta plot plot plot plot and get 'em right in the arse!

Clive: Hmm. Agreed. Plot plot plot important characters plot. We'll ride at dawn.

Plot person: Righto! See you in hell then. *Nods* Lady Jill.

Jill: *smiles meekly*

And it's such a waste because when she's actually allowed to do anything she's fun! Her character design is my favorite in the game, she gets to swing a sword around, when Clive gets bowled over her AI often gets caught too so the two get thrown up into the air screaming and doing a quadruple flip and its funny as fuck, as soon as she's finally given time to express one damn wish she's like "Clive, this priest did unspeakable things to children. I call dibs on killing him." And Clive's all "Of course Jill you'll get to murder him as much as you want" and that's fun!

They're each other's enablers! That's supposed to be their dynamic. Clive was a rejected son and a failure of a bodyguard, Jill's entire life was spent being someone's hostage (of both Rosaria and the Iron Kingdom), so they're the only pillar of support the other has. You can see the intent of their dynamic plain as day when Cid's trying to talk them into joining his merry crew of outlaws and Clive and Jill subconsciously hold hands and squeeze when they're nervous.

But to DO that right Jill has to be allowed to be her own character. Even in the Iron Kingdom level where Clive and Jill go after the High Priest because killing him is what Jill wants, in the ensuing bossfight Jill primes as Shiva while Clive fails to prime, and then instead of Jill taking charge she protects Clive while he fights the boss.

Seriously? One of them is flying around with literal god powers and the other has a bad case of Eikonic Dysfunction and rather than crush the giant lava monster herself, Jill makes sure Clive still gets to fight it in his puny human form and be the big hero? Come on. I was surprised that Jill still ran the High Priest through with her sword, I genuinely expected the game to take that away from her too.

Anyway she's obviously my favorite part of 16 now. Somebody's gotta be in her corner.

[blackjackkent]

Daily prompting...

"Did you just call this a family?" - Astarion

"You're like a brother to me" - Wyll

"You're always welcome in my home" - Jaheira

(Prompts for Found Families)

:D TY as always! Hope you enjoy! (As usual I had particular fun with the Jaheira one. XD )

-----

"Did you just call this a family?"

“There he is!” Karlach grins from ear to ear, swooping into Astarion’s line of sight. “Hiding off in the shadows as usual.”

“Observing, darling,” Astarion corrects her with a shrug. “I wasn’t making any effort to hide. And you certainly had no trouble finding me.” He lifts one eyebrow, looking her over. “I see Avernus hasn’t yet managed to dampen your spirits.”

She shakes her head. “Maybe not - though, gods, does it try. Not sure I’ve slept proper since the brain. But then I put my sword through a devil or two and it perks me right up. And how about you? I hear you’re a big-time adventurer now.”

“Oh, I get by, I get by,” he says with affected modesty, giving an airy wave with one hand. “Nothing like your military escapades, I should think; still up to all the old skulking but to a better purpose.”

“Wheyyy,” she says cheerfully, bouncing her weight from one foot to the other. “Who’d’a thought, right? You and me, both alive and tearing up bad guys, six months down the line. Turned out damn good, all things considered.”

He allows himself a slight smile. “In spite of all those who wronged us,” he murmurs. “I will admit… it does feel good to be able to show up and say I’ve made something of myself, at least for the time being. Though if I’d known Withers was planning to whisk us all off to a family reunion, I would have prepared a better outfit.”

Her grin widens. “Family reunion, eh? Did you just call this a family? You, Mister Loner Supreme?”

Having no circulation, he can’t blush, but his ears twitch and he clears his throat sharply. “Slip of the tongue, I assure you,” he says. “I wouldn’t be caught dead with such saccharine sentimentality on my lips.”

Karlach puts her hands around her mouth and shouts to the rest of the party. “HEY, EVERYONE! ASTARION JUST ADMITTED WE’RE A FAMILY.”

A chorus of cheerful shouts answers her, with Lae’zel’s voice rising sardonically above them from the far end of the camp. “Of course we are, kainyank!”

-----

"You're like a brother to me"

The siege has been going on for several hours when Hector hears Wyll give a low laugh all of a sudden. It’s about the last thing he expects to hear given they’re hunkered down outside the fortress of one of Zariel’s top lieutenants; certainly he couldn’t feel less like laughing himself.

Nevertheless, he grins involuntarily in response to the sound from his friend, but his eyebrows lift in confusion. “What’s so funny?”

Wyll chuckles again, shifting to lean his back against the wall of their makeshift trench. “Oh-- nothing. You’ll think it a quite odd thought, I suspect. I just… thought, out of nowhere, about that time I asked you to dance, back in the shadowlands.”

“Oh.” Hector blinks slowly. It is an odd thought, under the circumstances. “I haven’t thought about that in a while.”

“Nor I. Well, I wasn’t really thinking about it per se,” Wyll hastens to explain. “More about… how I got here. Everything we left behind. But not you, and not Karlach. You’re still with me, after everything.” He shakes his head ruefully and angles his hips up so he can peer over the top edge of the trench. “You must have thought me a bloody fool.”

“Wyll,” Hector says, very seriously. “I still barely knew my own arse from a hole in the ground then. I admired you tremendously.” A pause. “I felt terrible for hurting you, though.”

“Bah.” Wyll smiles reassuringly. “It’s far better this way. You… you’re like a brother to me, Hec. Wouldn’t trade that for the world.” His grin twitches into a teasing smirk. “Besides - I’ve seen you try to dance since, and it’s not pretty.”

“Knife to my heart, Wyll. Knife to my very heart.”

-----

"You're always welcome in my home"

“High Harper--” The man is very young, most certainly a new recruit, so wet behind the ears that he is practically dripping on the front porch of Elerrathin’s Home. He looks at Jaheira with that earnest respect that comes from those who have heard of her only in song and never met her in person. “My apologies for disturbing you at this hour.”

“Of course,” Jaheira says. Her expression is deadpan; it is an expression she is well-practiced at, expertly masking whether she is irritated, amused, or simply curious. “You are always welcome in my home, my young friend. As are all Harpers.” She steps back, drawing the door open. “You will, of course, submit to the usual security check.”

He blinks-- and then his expression steadies; to his credit, he does not allow himself to be thrown by the unexpected statement. “As you say, High Harper,” he says earnestly, following her inside. “Of course it behooves someone of your rank to take all precautions.”

“Most certainly,” she says. “Wait here, please.” She halts him in the middle of the house’s small living room, then calls, “Fig! Your services!”

A small child of perhaps five years old emerges from one of the side rooms; her shoulders are squared and her eyes eager and excited. “Yes, Commander!” she pipes up.

The child stalks directly in front of the young Harper and stares up at him imperiously. “Name?” she says fiercely.

The Harper blinks again, casts a sideways look at Jaheira, but the High Harper’s face is still completely unreadable. “Uh. Simons,” he stammers, looking back at the little girl. “Wesley Simons. Harper.”

“Uh huh.” Fig screws up her face with an expression of deep concentration and walks a slow circle around him, examining him from all sides. “And uh…” She tilts her head, then glances at Jaheira and asks in a stage whisper, “What is it next?”

“Divest,” Jaheira murmurs, with the very slightest hint of a smile.

“Oh yeah.” Fig points a stubby finger at Wesley’s chest. “Divest yourself!” Then, again in a whisper, “That means take your sword off.”

Wesley’s lips twitch. “Ah. Yes, ma’am,” he says; with a single quick motion, he strips off his sword belt and lays the weapon on the table. 

Fig nods approval. “He’s clean, Commander!” she says; her serious demeanor breaks and she grins excitedly. “Did I do good?”

“Perfectly done, cub. Now run along.” Jaheira waits until the girl has darted back out of the room, then looks at Wesley and jerks her head to the side. “You - come. We shall speak in my office.”

Wesley follows her with a soft laugh. “Is this hazing, then, High Harper? Or does she do this with all your visitors?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Harper Simons,” Jaheira says gravely. “This is standard procedure.”

#bg3 drabble #bg3 #karlach #astarion #wyll #jaheira #astreamofstars #ty for the promptsssss <3 #jaheira bg3 #bg3 jaheira

[lensman-arms-race]

Titan TV upgrade post

First off: that teleport cloud. It took longer than normal, which could be attributed to it having been a long time since Titan TV last teleported, and it being harder to do with all the upgrades -- but I fully believe the Titan deliberately spun it out just to panic the toilets more, because they're a drama queen (and we love them for it).

Also, the Scientist Toilet had some black mist appearing around them at first, which suggests that they were trying to teleport away but the Titan has the ability to no-sell the Scientist's bootleg version, which, yes.

Secondly: Called it! Two weeks ago I said "I think a big retractable sword would suit him" and I must have had the same idea as DFB! (Also, that post was an anon ask, so I can't prove it wasn't from DFB asking Skibidi bloggers what upgrades they thought Titan TV should get, haha!)

(Urgh, YouTube pause overlay in the screenshot. I couldn't be arsed to work out how disable it.)

That core looks more tricked-out than Titan Camera's!

The gloves! The thigh straps! I love them! (Couldn't get a good shot of the gloves that wasn't cut off, argh.) The shoulder grabbers are still there - too bad we didn't get to see them in action this time, because I love those too!

What's this on the back of their hand??

Core blaster! Couldn't get a non-blurry screengrab of it - note the distortion stripes showing that POV cam is having a hard time recording it! (Mildly annoying because that's a digital distortion effect and the POV cam this episode is a cinécam, who presumably use analog film - because if they don't, what are those things on their bonces that look like film magazines?)

:3

I was saying 'do the thing, do the thing!' just before they did the thing, and they did the thing! (Obligatory link to the sippyseize post)

I gotta be honest, I'm not a fan of the random-ass screens stapled on them. It makes the design look more like a fan design than an official one. I'm puzzled by the handles on the main screen too - it reminds me of those tablet covers for kids. I'm hoping the handles will be justified by the Titan being able to do something cool with them -- maybe remove their head and use it as a shield. (Funny post by jmiw about the handles)

I like how Titan Camera and Titan Speaker don't simply look like giant versions of the normal units: Titan Camera resembles a battleship crossed with a fighter jet, and they have a unique head shape. Titan Speaker has an array of unique speakers for a head, plus winged hussar-like pennants of speakers on their back - as Hanedasama puts it: like a box of fries! Titan TV still looks too much like a giant normal TV-unit for my liking.

I'm not against the multi-screens in themselves - they look cool when all deployed! But I would have preferred a setup like Polycephaly's where the screens are more tucked away when not in use.

In summary: 9.5/10, what an upgrade!

#skibidi toilet #skibidi tags: hardwares #skibidi tags: tv faction #skibidi tags: titans #skibidi tags: titan tv #skibidi tags: episode 67