#basically always at the forefront of his mind even before himself

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

Opinions on Dream? :^

SO many feelings about him omgg rant under cut please forgive me

okay so i don't really talk or draw him much cause honestly,,,most of the times i just think he's a bit....boring? or more accurately plain? not in a mean way either but just in a 'fades into the background' type of way like don't get me wrong!! he's a really nice friend to his peers, his feelings about his powers and aura making his relationships harder to navigate and trust along with his whole conflict with nightmare and morality about what's good and bad IS very cool!! and i love it whenever they write him to be complex and not on this black and white mentality or when he's just straight up following along his friends with no free will or with a dubious purpose without ever addressing his issues or feelings! it's just unsatisfying to me :')

or when they're making him the 'naive' and oblivious, (sometimes childish?) character being marked as the obstacle and villain along with the other star sanses from the fic's pov, always talking about doing good things while fighting his brother and not hearing him out about the balance, (and for weak reasons most of the time. like it's been so long and you STILL haven't sat down with him when he's, generally, basically begged you to just have a talk? guys please :'( ) or when they go for the victim sad dream always missing the old nightmare, where corrupted nightmare is the incarnation of evil, with no sympathy or emotion except anger and sadistic glee, killing and hurting everyone and dream's just trying to protect the multiverse and dream's always been in the right. such extremes!!!

LIKE!! i hope i'm not the only one that thinks a 500+ year old should have had enough time to idk. learn things? about people and manipulation and deceit? after knowing what the villagers did to night? about the bad things in the world and how there's a lot of grey areas in life and that he maybe reflected on his past enough to process and ask himself if there should to be a convo to settle his differences with nightmare (and you can make nightmare the stubborn one too! or have them BOTH be petty and imperfect and have some things wrong and some right at the same time like why do i always see the good guy vs bad guy cliché with these two when they're the perfect example of why positivity doesn't have meaning without the negativity!! as long as there's a satisfying evolution or growth that doesn't leave me empty i'm good yknow?)

plus i believe dream really isn't as dumb as people view him. i do get some of you saying he probably can't read or write since that's actually a pretty interesting idea to explore! but in general please let him have emotions other than pure sunshiny happiness or endless sadness like he's gotta have more depth than that! let him make mistakes, have flaws that don't just make him the bad guy that's always in the wrong by default, and be angry or suspicious or jealous or bitter or battling his mental health problems/depression or malicious or smart or witty or mischievous and silly or sarcastic or ANYTHING dude i just want him to be put into different scenarios where he can be serious or lighthearted like it doesn't even have to be long or perfect but make him feel real.

it could definitely be that i don't read or see much art about dream or really look for it hard enough but also i just. i feel bad for even saying this fr and i wanna be honest about why i don't enjoy most stories about him cause he always gets the worst treatment along with ink!!! especially ink omg the poor guy has it the worst i think like wow do they mess him up :'(

always one dimensional in non shippy fics, or too plain or easily replaceable by other, more entertaining people in the significant other's life in most of his ships like man. i have read fics out there that made me genuinely FEEL and root for him and love his character so much it restored all hope for me!!! but i can only name one on top of my head and the others? it's been so long i don't even remember their names i just legit feel terrible cause i love him still and i can't find many headcanons that fit my interpretation of him yknow?

not to say people who write him very happy, mislead or sad are ruining him like that's silly- if i see something i don't like i just. move on bro i wouldn't force people to feel or think the same way i do about him cause anyone can have whatever headcanons they want!!! just talking about what i personally look for in him and why i can't exactly find it since most of the stuff out there just isn't my cup of tea :')

hopefully i didn't set anyone off with this rambling opinionated essay i just pulled hhh xD i know i know he's a popular character and i know a lot of people like dream so *sobs* please please recommend me artists and fics about him that you think is good it's been so looong since i've read or seen anything new that makes me attached to this little guy aughg<33333

#ask #rambling #delete later? #probably xD i just wanna love him SO much but sometimes he's just *sigh*...forgettable #i tried to explain myself but also it's like 4 am and i skimmed through the proofreading so don't take this too seriously HHH #like really even when i do read good fics about him he's not on the forefront of my mind and it's painful to me :'( #i used to see him as my third fav but now? ever since i've read and seen characters who get heavier more in depth plots? #i can't say it with as much confidence :') and dream lovers out there i am not bashing your choice or even your headcanons #to each their own but i really wanna hear someone be passionate about him in my feed or askbox like TELL me about him #i've seen ink rants out there that are FIRE like so true!!! but where's the dream defense team??? #maybe it's just me tho :') btw i still like cream but not the same way as before if i'm being real #it feels the same...all of it and it makes me wanna bite something ARGHGG #i know i know i ship some stuff that's basic too hhh but dream and cross are always written the same and dream is too innocent #and nightmare is too weird in some of these fics like if MY brother ever tried to literally attack my hypothetical partner???? #i wouldn't give him the :'((( sad face and weakly tell him to 'please stop...you're hurting him'' like NO girl they're TWINS #they're the same age i would tell him to BACK off and not insert himself in my love life after years of ignoring and fighting LIKE #especially since most of the time cross is actually good to dream and all- so he doesn't have a good reason to disrupt his bro's dates #UGH i just have so many opinions but basically i would love him a lot lot more than i do now if they also let him be more flexible #and shake things up like with shattered and stuff! gimme alternate versions of him even if it's too ooc like we do for all the other sanses #jaa i am SO sorry you had to read all that dude thank you so much for passing by :'D

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

If it is okay, may I please request a headcannon of MC being found badly injured by Ace, Lilia, Trey, Floyd, and Jamil? I really love these characters so much! And angst, too.

Ace Trappola:

Ace had a hard time keeping the panic from showing on his face, hands hovering over you like he was afraid to touch you. What if he hurt you more? He’d never claimed to have a healing touch but even now he knows there’s not much worse he could do other than finishing the job, a thought that proceeds to make him sick to his stomach. There’s another feeling burning deep in his gut, a rage only held back by the initial shock of seeing you in such a state and trying to process what to do from there. Your safety was at the forefront of his mind, getting you straight to a person who can heal you, even if every other instinct of his wanted to get even with the person who hurt you first.

Floyd Leech:

Though Floyd is not your enemy, you can’t help but feel uneasy as he approached. He’s not really glaring at you but past you, like there was a general barking orders at him that he had no intention of following. He hadn’t said much since he found you, another oddity as he wasn’t generally the quietest. You don’t think he’s ever handle you so gently before as he scooped you up, changing his pace or repositioning you carefully each time you winced or whimpered in pain. The first thing on his mind was returning you to safety, but once you were… He asked with an eerie calmness if you could give details on your assailant, even if it was more than one person, because he fully intended to pay them all back double (and Sevens help whoever tried to stand in his way).

Jamil Viper:

Jamil hadn’t quite gathered himself together, priding himself on analyzing situations, on predicting outcomes, and yet your interference had always been a variable he forgot to account for. Just like in his life, he had never expected you to come crashing in nor had he expected you to make a home beside him. He thought you were crazy for seeing any value in a relationship with him but he supposed you had your uses, hiding behind the shadow of a manipulator despite how truly grateful he was for your presence. Now he’s confronted with that, life spitting in his face again, demanding that he beg on his hands and knees, grovel, to assure that you survived your injuries. He knew the basics of healing, knew how to clean wounds and to dress them properly, but he had to hope mentally you had the strength to pull through for him. He hoped you could hear him begging for forgiveness, a promise to treat your relationship more seriously if you just came back to him.

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia’s always been good at wearing a mask, showcasing a playful smirk or firing off witty flirtations in moments that don’t necessarily fit the mood. But he feels a bit of the façade crack when he sees you in such dire straits, clinging to the last bit of calm he possessed as it tried to slip right through his fingers. It’s not that he’s scared, his battlefield experience allowed him to determine your status with a quick glance, but he felt a deep-seated fury building inside him. He remembered being pulled away from someone important before in a drastic, life-changing moment, unable to protect—fight by their side as he was meant to, and it seemed that same crossroads was appearing before him again. He had been forced into one choice for the sake of Briar Valley before but there are no such forces present now. He kneeled by your side, making a serious face you’re not quite used to seeing on him as he promised he wouldn’t let the culprit touch a hair on your head ever again.

Trey Clover:

Trey is used to keeping his cool under any circumstance, having to be the level-headed vice dorm leader had brought him many days of experiencing pressure to assure emotions didn’t boil over. Yet none of that training matters now when he saw your blood-soaked clothes, his heart skipping a beat until he realized you were still breathing. He tried to talk to you, offering soothing words, promising he’d get you to someone who could help soon. There’s a bitter taste in his mouth as he knew he likely wouldn’t have the chance to get his hands on the person who hurt you, biting down on his lip so hard it began to bleed, but he couldn’t voice his frustrations now to a person who was in a much worse state than he was. And he didn’t think he ever would, letting his anger fester deep in his chest until he had a moment alone to dispel it.

#Twisted Wonderland #Disney Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Disney TWST #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #Ace Trappola #Lilia Vanrouge #Floyd Leech #Jamil Viper #Trey Clover #Ace Trappola x Reader #Lilia Vanrouge x Reader #Floyd Leech x Reader #Jamil Viper x Reader #Trey Clover x Reader

[sourpatchys]

Title: Warm Showers

Rating: fluff! 15+

Word count: 1.6k

Setting: The early days of Alexandria

Summary: Daryl Dixon isn’t afraid of anything. At least— he’s not afraid of anything physical. However the thought of belonging, that chills him to his core.

Basically! My friend asked me if I could write up something fluffy regarding Daryl’s lack of hygiene in Alexandria, and I simply couldn’t resist.

_

The first night you were able to sleep in your own bed was one you cherished more than anything.

Never in your life did you think a mattress could, or would ever, make you feel so utterly blissful. The soft sheets against your newly cleaned skin felt like heaven.

Of course, you weren’t alone. Daryl had stayed with you.

Your relationship with the archer was never a spoken fact, neither of you confirmed or denied your closeness to one another.

You supposed it started after the prison fell, maybe even before that. When he saw you were alive, with nothing more than a few nicks and bruises— he ran to you.

Of course he ran to Carol as well, but Carol didn’t get a tearful kiss on the forehead.

The one and only kiss the two of you had ever shared.

Even sleeping right next to one another, your lips never met, not each others, and not the skin between.

It was nice in a way, having someone all to yourself with no expectations. Especially being on the road as you were.

Every night, he sat by you until you fell asleep, and every morning he was there— ready to start the day with you.

He had held your hand on the way into Alexandria, dangling his dead possum in the other. You supposed he’d always been a bit feral.

The first few nights, you hadn’t showered. You were too afraid of having to leave again, you didn’t trust the water, you didn’t trust the food, you weren’t even sure if you could trust yourself.

Once rick had given the go ahead however, you took him at his word, and finally, even a bit reluctantly, you dropped your guard.

It had been a few days since then. And you didn’t know being a person could feel so good.

The hot water seared through your skin like cotton, the food felt like a warm hug, and you— for better or for worse, felt like you again. Albeit a different version of you, but it was still, undeniably, you.

Daryl however, wasn’t adjusting. Even as he slept next to you, his mind never stopped racing. His clothes stayed dirty, his food was only what he could find, and he wasn’t sure who he was supposed to be. Let alone how he should feel.

Sleeping next to you was the only thing that kept him there. Knowing you would wake up in the morning, with the same warm skin and glowing eyes as always— that’s what he looked forward too— that was his reason to live.

He didn’t need to understand himself, he didn’t need to feel a certain way, because he had you by his side, alive and breathing.

Slipping into bed that night, he felt you tense, and he heard a sharp nervous breath come through your lips.

“Why haven’t you showered yet?”

It was a question at the forefront of your mind, you knew why you took so long, you knew it was an adjustment. You wanted to know his reasoning though, if he even had one. Surely he felt that same itch under his skin that you had felt, that need to be clean but the fear of losing what you’d come to know.

He turned his head to you, his narrow eyes holding something you couldn’t place.

“Don’ need to.”

It was a very simple answer to an otherwise very complex question.

You turned your body on its side, curling up into yourself, your head flush against the soft cotton of the pillows.

“Are you afraid?”

Even with your relationship developing past more than just an average friendship, this was the first time, in all your time together, that you had ever pried into his mind.

Usually, if he wanted you to know something, he’d just tell you. He trusted you in a way he’d never felt with anyone else. But after Beth’s death, he stopped sharing. You really couldn’t help but voice your questions out loud anymore, otherwise you’d be in the dark forever.

He scoffed, turning his head away from you, a visible frown on his face.

“Ain’t afraid of nothin’.”

He was. And you knew that. He was afraid of being alone, yet afraid of being a part of something at the same time.

“I— I could help. I’ll scrub your back if you scrub mine?” You let out a nervous laugh, your humor was never in good taste.

You didn’t get an answer. His eyes just stared at the ceiling, counting any crack or imperfection he could find. In truth, he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t cleaned himself.

At the beginning, he felt that same distrust that you had, that same fear of the unknown.

But now that everyone was adjusting, now that everyone had a job— even him. He just didn’t understand himself.

He could make a snippy remark about how he’d just get dirty again, he could snap at you and curse you for being too trusting too soon. But he didn’t want to.

Maybe a part of him just didn’t want to be vulnerable. The thought of himself enjoying hot water, enjoying fresh home cooked meals— while everyone else was out being productive— protecting what you’d found. It genuinely made him sick to his stomach.

Why hadn’t he showered?

He was afraid. He didn’t want to belong, he didn’t feel like he deserved to belong. He had to protect. Caring for himself didn’t fit into that role.

So after he was done searching the ceiling for answers, he turned to you again.

“M’ fine with that.”

Your eyes widened a bit, searching his for a moment.

“Fine with what?”

“You helpin’.”

If he was going to be vulnerable— he would only ever do it with you.

The trip to the shower was a strange one. You never expected your attempts at humor to get you anywhere in this world— but there you were— sneaking around the house with a man made of stone.

The two of you (just you) had decided a bath was the easiest way to go about it. Even with the hot water being limited during the day, you couldn’t imagine anyone else would be bathing at this hour. And you weren’t sure if the steady stream of the shower would hold its temperature long enough for the task at hand.

For a moment, you had tried to turn around, attempting to give the archer his privacy as he undressed— but it was quickly shadowed by the realization that you’d have to see him in the tub anyways.

The scars on his back were visible to you for a few seconds before he plopped himself in the warm water, leaning against the back wall. You decided to store that particular memory for another time, you’d asked enough questions for one night.

Your thoughts were soon interrupted by a very familiar gruff voice.

“You commin’?”

Daryl was leaning against the back of the tub with his knees raised and his arms on either side— he had made room for you.

You couldn’t help the surprised noise you made as you pointed to yourself in disbelief.

“Me?”

“You said you’d scrub me down— so hop to it then.”

__

The whole ordeal had become routine. You really couldn’t say you minded.

While being alone was nice, you’d become accustom to being in a pack of several— and now, it was a pack of two. You were alone together, even on your most vulnerable moments.

Every night, once everyone had gone to bed, the two of you would sneak away to bask in the hot, cotton like water. And once finished, Daryl would let you brush his hair, and you’d sneak right back into bed.

Carol had noticed the change. She had asked you how you’d managed to get him to shower, cracking a joke about how she was debating downing him with a hose.

You just laughed along, not giving her an answer. No one needed to know about your nightly exchange.

Tonight was no different than any other. The scratchy, but soft, soapy rag dragged along your skin. The rose scented suds carving their way down your body by the second as the hot, blissful water rained down on your bodies.

This was what heaven felt like— you were sure of it.

Rinsing out your own rag, you turned to grab another, sudding it up with the charcoal scented body wash sat by the faucet. You’d suggested that soap for Daryl after he made a remark of ‘not wanting to smell like petunias’, he seemed to enjoy it.

Raising your rag covered hand, you brought it up to his chest, taking your time cleaning any nook and cranny you managed to find. He had been building a bike from scratch, and as you were starting to learn, motor oil was not a quick and easy wash.

Daryl hummed at your touch, his own, newly cleaned hands, coming up to massage shampoo into your tangled hair.

The hair washing, would always be your favorite.

Drying off after the shower was always the same ordeal. You would put on fresh pajamas, and Daryl would put on his same shirt from the day before with a fresh pair of boxers. You’d given him grief over washing his clothes— but he wasn’t budging in that regard just yet. You decided it wasn’t worth the hassle as long as his skin was clean going into them.

And then finally, you both plopped into the freshly made bed. The silk sheets always gave you chills, their cool caress sending shockwaves up your spine. He seemed to feel the same.

Tonight should’ve been like any other night.

Tonight was like any other night.

Apart from the feeling of scruff against your freshly washed face, and chapped lips brushing against yours.

You decided then and there, you were definitely in love.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #twd #I never know how to properly write people speaking #please help

[cathedral-of-sinners]

I humbly request a Tighnari NSFW alphabet please whenever you're free and if you're willing to dear author!

Tighnari, Tighnari, Tighnari, Ti-

For him, I'm always willing <3 (being free and having motivation was a different story though lol)

CW: gn!reader (no pronouns/genitalia mentioned), reader can be either sub/dom and top/bottom depending on the letter, creampie (C)

— Tighnari: Full Alphabet

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He's deliciously buzzed, so high on cloud nine that he doesn't want to come down. His head will drop to rest on your shoulder or in the crook of your neck, trying desperately to inhale as much of your scent as possible. You’ll even catch his tail flicking gently like a happy puppy’s would, something you can't ever bring up outside of the moment or else he'll never recover (not to mention the teasing Cyno would bring if he ever somehow heard of this habit lmao). Once he's collected himself though he grows insanely soft, ears relaxing as he places a kiss on your forehead, asking if anything hurts or if you want anything. Food, some water, medicine or a warm/cool cloth, he had it all set up on the nightstand before you started and reaches for what he needs before curling up beside you, tail wrapping around you in some way.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of their partners)

Your shoulders and arms! Adores when you wrap your arms around him both in and out of the bedroom, their presence something he simply really enjoys. Loves when he can bury his nose in your shoulders too, careful though, he's a biter ;)

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

Addicted to cumming inside or on your stomach. The way his seed dribbles and dots your skin makes his head swirl - as for inside? He could pass out from how good it feels to stuff you full <3

D = Dirty Secret

Has very big thoughts and feelings about teasing you all day with a toy. Wants you to roam the forest or into the city as he stays and does some paperwork in his home, the knowledge that you're no doubt struggling to keep it together until you get back at the forefront of his mind. By the time you get home he can smell the arousal dripping from you as he turns and smirks. Don't worry, he rewards generously to well behaved individuals :)

E = Experience (How experienced are they?) 

Honestly could see him as both a virgin and not. Like, there's the idea that he's not interested in sex at all during his studies and then when he became a Forest Watcher there was both no time and no one that piqued his interest. But then I think he could also be the kind to have a one-night type thing once or twice while he was in school. He’s an I do want when I want kinda guy in some ways after all.

THEN AGAIN!! Fennec foxes mate for life sooooo, there’s that… but other than that he’s had plenty of moments when the topic came up in his research or conversations he’s overheard (both willing and unwillingly), therefore he’s really only lacking in the practice aspect.

F = Favourite Position

Lotus!! This is mainly because of how close the position makes you both, chests pressed up against one another, every breathe felt and every noise of pleasure heard. Plus, like mentioned before, it lets Tighnari rest his head on the crook of your neck, drowning him in everything that is you.

A close second is doggy style.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

He’s sassy no matter where he is (man has no fear honestly) so I’m damn certain he’ll unintentionally (or even intentionally) be funny during the moment. For the most part though he’s pretty serious.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) 

*chef's kiss* he is very well-groomed. Tighnari takes extremely good care of both his ears and fluffy tail, so it’s only right he takes equal care down below. Firm believer that his pubes are the same shade as his tail and not a mix like his hair or solid black. Pretty clean shaven, the thinnest of bushes present.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

He can be very romantic when he wants to be!! Holds your hand, kisses you all across the face, down your neck, across your chest, he’ll whisper praise and compliments in your ear, all the things like that!

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Doesn’t jerk off much simply because he doesn’t feel the need to. The only times he would are if you’re not available (like out of town unavailable) or if he’s in a rut and you’re just taking too long to come home :((

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Marking: He's a bitter like I said but Tighnari also likes to admire the scratches left on both of you after an intense round. Really likes to trace them with his eyes as you both cuddle or as he takes care of them.

Breeding: I’m totally not adding this because of his fennec fix urges lmao (I am a little), but it doesn’t matter what you got downstairs, your hole will be stuffed with his cum to the point of overflowing.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Tighnari isn't picky about where you do it but he favors the bedroom slightly above the rest. It's just far more comfortable and there's less of a chance of being interrupted by a patrolling Forest Ranger or some random hiker

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Let him drown in your scent and he's yours. Also, he’s really sensitive when you kiss or drag your tongue over his Adam’s Apple ;)

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He likes the risk but he's not stupid enough to risk your safety. He likes to play around with strange mushrooms and flowers but if he doesn't know everything about them - effects, antidotes, the like - then he's not bringing it around you. (But that’s honestly what any good lover would do).

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Honestly??? He’s got no preference. However, there is one pro when it comes to sucking him off: you get to see his ears cutely twitch.

A natural when he goes down on you. It’s partially due to his boldness and lack of hesitation. With minimal kitten licks, he dives right in like he might die if he doesn’t get a taste of you right that second. Bonus points when he looks up at you through his lashes too - it's really a sight to behold.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He's honestly a mixed bag, he can go either way most days. It also depends on the circumstances: did you tease him? How much time do you both have on your hands? What are your preferences in the moment? As a default though he leans slightly more on the fast side.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

"Really? Now? Right before I'm suppose to leave for patrol?" He'll act like it's an inconvenience but really he doesn't mind. If either you or he are feeling needy before one of you have to leave or are expecting company he's not opposed to busting out a quick round. Just to satisfy you both until later where you have all night to play.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Again, dude's got no fear. Can and will fuck anywhere he wants (with your consent of course). Forest? Hell yeah. In the Akademiya? Oh how it’d piss the higher-ups off! Tighnari also doesn’t mind introducing new things he thinks you might like or something he wants to try, always opening up with “there’s something I’d like to try, if you’d let me?”.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

Tighnari in heat can go for what feels like forever even though it’s really only a mighty 7 or 8 rounds. When he’s not in heat however, the Forest Watcher averages about three. He’s always able to take some time before orgasming.

T=Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

KINKY TIGHNARI 🥵😫 (I thought it once and I’m never going to let it go, it’s permanently stuck in my head)

Owns every fucking toy under the sun (exaggeration but damn close to the truth). Loves using them and doesn’t mind bringing them into the bedroom with you either. For himself, has a favourite combo between a dildo and a cock ring (vibrating or not doesn’t matter to him). He just fucking loves bouncing on it, hitting that one sweet spot with the added stimulation from the ring.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Nodding my head vigorously. He so loves to tease you. “What? Did you really think I was going to touch you? Just like that? You’ve got me all wrong.”

Fucking loves teasing your nipples too. No explanation, it is what it is.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

If you manage to catch him off guard he’ll moan really loudly and slutty before growing red at the lewd sound ;) Tighnari whines and whimpers more than he does moan. He’s usually not too load but when he gets lost in pleasure, drunk on you, he can get pretty loud that people passing by will hear it

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Enjoys seeing you in lingerie and would die a happy fox if you surprised him in a black set, body draped along his bed as you await for him to unwrap his unexpected gift.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Average length, ‘bout 5 to 5 and a half inches. Definitely has a little more girth to it though. Has a prominent vein that travels along the side of his dick. Is a grower.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Not overly high, like it’s there but its also not. Before meeting you and before things in Sumeru calmed down there was just so much to do. Withering Zones, Elezar, the Akademiya constantly bothering him, the list goes on. The only time it's high is during the season *wink wink*

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

After catching his breath, going through the motions of caring for you both and finally laying down, Tighnari is asleep after 10 to 20 minutes, provided there’s minimal post-sex talk. He doesn’t mind chatting so if you do then he’s out after about 45 minutes.

Tag list: Not a Soul

If you'd liked to be tagged in any future works lmk via comment, DM or my askbox!

#tighnari x reader #tighnari x reader smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #tighnari x gender neutral reader #genshin tighnari #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact tighnari #tighnari smut #—val writes

[cherrychilli]

18+

AFAB reader, soft! Steve, breast massage, nipple play, pre-menstrual ouchies. Basically, your boobies hurt and Steve's ready to take care of you and make it all better.

A/N: I started writing this months ago and let it sit in my drafts for longer than I would have liked. This is very self indulgent because I have terrible mastalgia and I needed to write a little comfort drabble (with a bit of spice of course). Who wouldn't want to have someone like Steve around help to ease your pain? Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know if you did!

You didn't have to check your calendar to be reminded of what was now, by your estimation, a week away when you felt an all too familiar pinch in your chest. The first warning of what was to come. In just a few hours the occasional twinge progressed to an ache, warm and beating that stretched across your entire chest and left the soft tissue underneath sore. Your breasts always swelled before your period. That much you could bare to deal with but what made it all the more unpleasant was the increased sensitivity that accompanied it. Your breasts felt heavier than they had earlier in the month and the extra sensitivity only made you more conscious of your every move. Even with the help of your most supportive bra, every shift, every step, every nudge that caused your breasts to jiggle was met with a fresh wave of throbbing heat.

Medication barely ever numbed your pain and cold compress did nothing else but momentarily cool your heated skin. After enduring it for so long you knew only carefully working the sensitive flesh would alleviate the persistent gnawing. You tried to ease the tension with your own hands during the day as you attended to your tasks but any relief was always fleeting. With all the work you had to see to in-between, there was barely enough time to massage yourself properly and the times you were able to give yourself some extra attention, your overworked wrists would tire before you could quell the throbbing. As much as you tried on your own, you found that it felt far better when Steve took over for you, letting him gently knead your tender flesh while you were allowed to relax and melt under his touch.

You waited until he returned home from work, throwing your shirt off without a shred of hesitation moments after he'd walked through the door. "Baby", you let out in a honeyed whimper, pretty but he can hear the pain behind it, quickly realizing what had been troubling you all day. Concern for you was always at the forefront of Steve's mind of course. He was always sympathetic to your discomfort but he couldn’t help the excitement that spiked inside him when he found you waiting for him on the couch. You were a sight even in your current state. Your busy hands working underneath your thin t-shirt, only ridding yourself of it entirely at the sight of him, pleading with big desperate eyes and soft whines to have his hands on you instead. He had to remind himself to keep that excitement contained. At least for now.

"Come here, babe. Let me take care of you", he soothed, joining you on the couch and directing your attention to his lap as he pat it with a gentle smile. "Can't have my girl in pain".

You heaved a sigh of relief before handing him the bottle of baby oil you had placed on the table in anticipation of his arrival. You settled yourself on his lap with your back against his chest, letting out an appreciative hum when he pressed a quick kiss to your temple. You wait for him to pop the cap back on the bottle, watching the oil pour into the well of his palm before he sets the closed bottle back on the table, rubbing his hands together to coat his palms with the slippery contents. As soon as he parts his hands you're pulling at his wrists, bringing his hands up to cover your breasts. "So impatient", he chides playfully, letting you press them into your skin. "Hurts so bad" you groaned in reply, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of his warm hands on your bare breasts.

He took note of the amount of pressure you applied when you squeezed your hands over his, letting your hands fall away when he matched it. Steve was always mindful to start with light, occasional squeezes before gradually getting more firm. You rest your head against his shoulder while he props his chin on yours to get a better look, figuring out which areas needed the most attention. His fingers rubbed at the top of your breasts while the heel of his palm pressed into the bottom curve of your breast and kneaded upwards, gliding over your skin with the thin coating of oil.

"I know you said it hurts but, what does it feel like exactly?", he pondered out loud, wanting to understand how this all made you feel. Many words come to mind and you're unsure on which one to settle on. "Tight" you answered first before elaborating, "just, really sore and hot and tight. The kind that feels like it's cutting through you", you added just as another sharp pang flared in your left breast. You couldn't see it, eyes squeezing shut at the newest twinge of pain but Steve's lips fell into a little frown at that, feeling bad that you had to go through this every month. You relax your pinched brow when his fingers find the exact spot that was bothering you, working the twisting ache away carefully. "And how about when I massage them?", he asked again.

A smile tugged at our lips, already feeling the benefit of his hands kneading the tension away. "Mmm...kind of like loosening a knotted muscle and holding ice over a burn at the same time", you explained after a thoughtful pause. You can sense the frown on his face now. Using more pain to describe your relief might not have been the best choice of words you realize. "Really really good", you quickly substituted instead. You're making me feel so good, Stevie", you reached up to caress his cheek in thanks, a hint of stubble scratching underneath your fingers. His frown softened then, returning to the gentle smile that he had greeted you with earlier.

Basking in your praise was short lived however because it was impossible to miss the way your breath would hitch whenever he rubbed over one of the more sensitive areas with his chin propped on your shoulder. Alleviating your pain remained his top priority but the feeling of your nipples pebbling against his palms, the sight of your supple breasts in his hands and fuck, the way you whimpered and moaned right beside his ear made it difficult to keep his cock from reacting.

He grazed your pert nipples with his thumbs, taking in the way you shuddered in response against him before asking you if you were feeling any better, a wobbly tone to his latest inquiry. The answer was obvious yet he asked it anyway to distract himself from the way your ass had begun to grind against his stiffening cock and the sensation of your nails sinking into his thighs. He couldn't tell if you were aware of what you were doing. If you were just so lost to his touch, moving against him unconsciously as the pain started to subside. He only knew that if you kept this up you were bound to feel it soon enough. You hummed out a very satisfied ‘yes’, following it with a breathy request, one that made the blood rush to cock that much faster. 

“So so good…but, I need a little more right here".

You reached up to guide his hands once more, grazing the pads of his fingers over your nipples again. "Could you-", but he was already following through without you having to say any more, gently circling and rolling your nipples. You let your hands drop, going limp against his chest with a blissful sigh. The extra sensitivity no longer plagued you, pleasure beginning to spark and heighten instead. Feeling a little daring, Steve applied the slightest bit of pressure, pinching the buds gently. He eased when you didn't protest, showing your approval by arching your back to push your breasts into his hands further. It encouraged him to tug on your nipples, pulling a high pitched whimper out of you next. The oil that had been applied to your chest had absorbed into your skin now, no longer a glistening sheen blanketing your skin, only leaving you softer to the touch.

"Stevie, need you to do one more thing for me", you let out, dulcet and feathery he almost hadn't heard it despite how close you were to him.

"Anything", he answered quick.

"Would you mind…using your mouth? I just…I don’t know- I feel like it’ll help…”, the meek lilt to your voice and the way your head ducked told him that your newest request had little to do with sating your original ache and had everything to do with a new one a little further south when he noticed your thighs rubbing together.

"Yeah? would that make you feel better?", he teased knowingly, beaming with a grin.

You nod, a little shy about it but mostly eager.

"Turn around for me"

You do so, catching sight of the outline of his cock as you move to straddle his lap, hard and more than evident underneath his jeans, just as you'd pictured it when you felt it beneath you earlier. You will yourself to be patient, directing your fingers away from his bulge for the moment, keen on letting him get his mouth on you first before you can return the favor. You fully intended on showing him how much you appreciated his help.

Steve takes a moment to stare at your breasts as you curl your fingers over his shoulders and ease yourself down. He notices that you're not wincing anymore when they jiggle as you adjust yourself in his lap and that makes him happy for two reasons. First, because it means he's lessened your pain and second, because it means that he doesn't have to be as gentle with you anymore. You gasp when his tongue washes over your right nipple before blowing on the wet skin, watching it perk up and turn stiff. Your skin tastes faintly of the softly scented oil he'd massaged into you. Not unpleasant. Subtle and tasted exactly how it smelled. He does the same with your left, watching the bud pull tight before he closes his lips around it. "Fu- oh, just like that", you moaned, eyes slipping shut as he sucked and laved at your nipples, teasing them between his teeth until the only ache left was the one between your legs and he had no problem taking care of that too.

#steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader

[rinrinx2]

i have something in my mind.

rindou asks renzo what he want for his birthday present and renzo answers that he wants a younger sister. andddd he's deadly serious with his request. renzo whines a lot about how badly he wants a sister so he can have someone to play with him. he insists rindou to get him a sister (ofc he doesn't know what that means). so what should rindou and y/n do about their son's wish now? especially when renzo really looks like he's looking forward to it. i will leave it to you 🤭

have a nice day btw. love you and your account <33

"I want a sister"

Warnings: Inappropriate language, smut, use of the words mommy, use of the words daddy, creampie.

"I want a sister"

Rindou stood mouth agape, his morning coffee spilling all over the counter, as his 6 year old son with his back turned towards his father spoke.

"I want a sister" Renzo repeated turning around this time, his eyes starring into Rindou proving that he was serious about the matter.

"I want one now!" The young boy demand with a creased brow decorating his cute features.

"Renzo, you can't just get a sister now because you want one" Rindou said pulling himself together as he tried his best to explain to Renzo.

"Well I want one, so make me one now"

"Renzo..."

"I want one !"

"Okay fine I'll talk to your mommy when she gets home about you getting a sister" Rindou said with a sigh, caving into his sons demands.

"Yay! Can I pick out how she'll look, like can i choose her hair colour?" Renzo asked with a much more cheerful expression.

"Sure Ren" Rindou agreed as he was in no mood to start an argument with a child son about basic genetical exchange that cause phenotypes in people.

Rindou was left with the intrusive words of his son at the forefront of his mind 'I want a sister'. He knew that you had planned for another child, you never really wanted Renzo to be an only child. Rind himself never wanted for Renzo to be an only child as he enjoyed having an older brother. But neither you or Rind had ever talked about when the two of you would start trying for this second child.

It was like a silent agreement between the two of you that you'd have two children but when the two of you would start trying for this second child was unspoken about between the two of you.

But with Renzo's words ringing through Rindou's mind he took it as a sign to finally initaite it.

Rindou watched as you lazily lied in bed, tired from a hard day's work. And it was now that he took the opportunity to strike, as your tired lackluster attitude would have little rejection for his touch.

"You look so tired baby. You want a massage?" Rindou asked as he moved closer towards you on the bed.

With a small amount of effort your lifted your head from your pillow giving him an approving nod.

Rindou now moved all the way over to your side of the bed, as he pulled down the sheets that hid your body.

Rindou bit on his lip at the sight of your body, even when you were exhausted from you still managed to look beautiful, which was making Rindou's task of getting you pregnant all that much easier.

Rindou began to put his hands on your shoulders as he began to massage them. Softly gripping at them as you released sighs of pleasure at his touch.

With a hard gulp and lots of self restrain Rindou began to talk again.

"You know I was sitting with Renzo today, and he was talking about how his lonely"

Rindou watched your facial expression that remained the same, with your eyes closed and a small smile on your face, before he began to talk again.

"You know we always spoke about having another one, and I mean Rindou would sure appreciate it"

With now scrunched eyebrows and a mind wondering what Rindou was trying to get at you listened now more attentively than before.

"So maybe we should start trying, like we said we would"

And there you finally heard what Rindou was trying to get at. He wanted another child. And as much as you wanted another you knew that you just didn't have the time.

But Rindou already knew what excuse you would use before you could speak.

"Don't worry about work, and money. I've got it all covered. I mean I am an executive for Bonten, it pays well to your surprise" Rindou said with a smirk trying to lighten your mood.

"Rin... I'm just not sure"

"Come on now" Rindou said as his hands began sliding from your shoulders down to your waist, and slowly down to your thighs as he began to massage.

"A baby isn't a bad thing, don't you miss the sound of hearing little feet on the floor"

"We already have that now" you said now turning your body over so now your eyes looked into his.

"Renzo is nearly 6 and soon he'll be 7 and before you know it his 18 asking if he can get an apartment"

"Come on" Rindou said as his hands went back to your thighs, now massaging your inner thighs to convince you further.

But still you would not budge, so Rindou decided to use another method.

"Don't you miss getting creampied" Rindou asked as he brought his lips down to your neck.

"I know I miss cumming in that tight pussy every night, and those pregnancy tits"

"Remember how good you felt when I would massage them, pull at your nipples and suck at them"

A sigh of pleasure slipped through your lips as you remembered Rindou's lingering touches during your pregnancy with Renzo.

"I miss being in this pussy nightly" Rindou said his hand coming in between your legs rubbing at your clothed pussy.

And suddenly any resistance you had left in you disappeared.

"Maybe we should" you whispered into Rindou's ear.

"I think we should" Rindou whispered into your ear.

You felt as Rindou began to slip your shorts off, your pantie sliding off with them. Feeling the evening air against your pussy making the need within you even more urgent.

"You feel so wet and tight" Rindou said as his hand now dipped back down between your legs, his finger slipping inbetween your folds gently prodding at your tight hole.

Slowly Rindou slipped one finger in, letting it rub against your walls. The feeling of his long finger massaging your insides making you slowly see stars.

"Rin please" you begged needing another finger in you.

Rin slipped another finger in watching as your face contorted with pleasure.

Your eyes rolled back as his long thick fingers curled against the sweet spot within.

Rindou watched in amazement, watching ad your greedy pussy hungrily devoured him whole, with no hesitation.

And suddenly the sight before him became to much. Rindou was quick to rid his fingers from your drooling pussy.

Watching intensively as the slick dripped down his fingers, making his already erect cock even harder.

With one quick motion Rindous cock was free and already prodding at your tight entrance, watching as the tight ring would contract with each nudge against it.

"Gonna make you mommy again" Rindou said barely above a whisper and more to himself.

You looked at Rindou with massive eyes, until you felt the depe pressure of him pushing himself past the tight hole of your pussy watching as Rindous eyes were shut and his head thrown back with pleasure.

"Rindou" you moaned out as your dug your nails into his arms.

Rindou settled deep within your already clamping walls, letting your slicken pussy devour him whole as he tried his best not to release his load in that instance.

"Gonna fuck with pussy till I make a baby" Rindou said as he began to thrust into you.

With each deep thrust into you, you could feel thr thickness of Rindou's shaft as well as the thick vein on the underside of his cock that traveled from his balls all the way to the tip that leaked pre-cum into.

Rindou watched with each thrust as your tits would jump together making him even more desperate to see you swollen with his child.

Rindou pace increased and the once deep intense thrusting quickly become quick shallow thrusts as he fucked you like a bitch in heat, trying to you mate your pussy as best as he could.

"Come on mommy, you ready to be swollen with my cum again" Rindou said with a smirk.

"Ye-s" you stuttered out as Rindou never ceased his brutal pace.

You could feel the way your walls fluttered from within as they grabbed at Rindou's cock, trying your best to bring him back into thoese deep delicious parts inside you.

Feeling as your head got lighter and lighter with each thrust.

"Rin I'm gonna" you said barely above a whisper.

"Come on princess, don't tap out on daddy yet"

"Gotta make sure you filled with cum tonight" Rindou said as he relentlessly fucked you, feeling as your pussy drown his cock as well as the throbbing of your clit that screamed to be played with.

Rindou grabbed your legs bringing them over his shoulders, reveling in how deep the new position was. Feeling as he cok was now drowning in your soaked pussy.

Rindou fucked you like that watching as whimpers slipped from your mouth and tears soon fell from your eyes.

Ans suddenly the sight before he became to much, feeling as the cum in his shaft was now dripping into your pussy and the urge to shoot hot white ropes into you was becoming to much.

"Shit" Rindou whispered beneath his breath.

His hands quickly coming down on your touched starve clit as he played with it. Rubbing the sensitive nub back and forth with slicken fingers.

"Cum on my cock baby"

"You'll take my cum well if you cum first"

Rindous encouraging words was quickly making you slip as you felt yourself lose any self control left.

Suddenly the pressure within became to much, as your pussy began to flutter around Rindou's cock as clear liquid gushed out causing you to throw your head back in pleasure.

"Oh Daddy" you moaned out as you road your orgasm out.

"Yes mommy make a mess on my cock" Rindou said biting on his lip watching as your melted yourself on his cock.

Rindou began to fuck into you again settling for a quick few thrusts before you felt your pussy become drenched in hot liquid.

You watched in amazement as Rindou grabbed at your hips stilling himself as he spilled his seed into you.

Rindou remained still inside you for a moment, before keeping your legs raised and reaching for a pillow on his side of the bed that he placed beneath you.

"What you doing?" You questioned as you watched his actions.

"Making sure your pussy takes my cum" Rindou said with concentration as he gently put your legs down.

"You're serious about another baby" you said with a giggle as Rindou now laid beside you.

"Of course I was. Renzo wouldn't shut up about wanting a sibling"

"So it was Renzo who encouraged you to do this" you said slightly sitting up.

"Oh come on, what if it's a mini you. That wouldn't be to bad?"

"But what if it's another mini you?" You asked with fake irritation.

"Well you like me so it won't be to much of a problem"

"I mean look what you let me do to you"

.

.

.

All rights reserved to @rinrinx2

#rindou haitani imagines #rindou haitani smut #rindou haitani x y/n #rindou haitani x reader #haitani rindou #rindou haitani x you #rindou haitani #haitani rindou x y/n #haitani rindou x you #haitani rindou x reader #rindo haitani #haitani rindou smut #haitani rindou imagines #rindou x reader #rindou x y/n #rindou x you #tr rindou #tokrev rindou #rindou scenarios #rindo smut #rindo x y/n #rindou fluff #rindo haitani x reader #rindo haitani x y/n #haitani rindo x reader #haitani smut #rindou smut #rindou x sanzu #rindou angst #rindou tokyo revengers

[mediocre-daydreams]

congrats again! 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐫: basic but grumpy/sunshine with remus 👀

this is so genius remus is absolutely grumpy x sunshine i'm gonna have to write more of these

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

“for the love of merlin, will you stop?” remus covered his ears with his hands. his eyes were shut in exasperation.

it was two days before the full moon, and remus was grumpy. more so than usual, because he’d just gotten roped into a week’s worth of detention for a prank he didn’t pull.

“i’m not even doing anything,” sirius protested. his words were muffled by a mouth full of half-chewed french toast. “i’m eating breakfast. it is the most important meal of the day, after all.”

remus groaned, slumping forward until his forehead was resting on the surface of the table.

“no offense, but you’ve been a bit of an arse all day,” james said, tossing a napkin at sirius and silently miming the action of wiping his mouth. despite james’ bluntness, he still cared about remus.

“i’ve literally been awake for three hours,” remus deadpanned, lifting his head just enough to look at james pointedly. “and i’m regretting getting out of bed at all.”

“who spat in your pumpkin juice?” sirius said, mouth now clean.

“the full moon is in two days,” peter mouthed.

“huh?” sirius leaned closer to peter. his face was contorted in confusion.

peter huffed and pursed his lips. “the full moon is in two days,” he hissed.

james hummed in understanding, nodding vigorously. with the recent (failed) prank and a load of assignments at the forefront of their minds, the marauders had forgotten all about the approaching moon.

sirius raised his eyebrows, impressed by the closeness of the date. sirius looked down at remus, who was still slouching in his seat with bleary eyes, and frowned. “mate, you’ve gotta eat something.”

“i’m not hungry.”

“they have muffins!” peter goaded. “you love muffins.”

“they’re the blueberry ones,” remus sighed with despondency. “i bloody hate blueberries.”

james furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully. “okay, what about-”

“rem!” your robes trailed behind you as you rushed over to remus’ side. “good morning, love. are you alright?”

remus lifted his head and blinked as he adjusted to the light. instead of glaring like he’d done to james earlier, his face softened. “hey,” he smiled unconsciously. he always smiled when he saw you. “i’m all good. no, i’m great, now that you’re here.” remus tugged lightly at your hand, prompting you to sit next to him. he laid his head on your shoulder when you did.

“that was bad, rem,” you chastised. “sappier than sirius’ maple syrup.”

remus turned his head to peer up at you affectionately. “that was definitely worse.”

you busied yourself as you poured juice and filled your plate with various breakfast foods. “have you eaten?” you asked, glancing over at remus’ scarce plate. “you’re bound to be hungry; especially of late, i mean.” you were hinting toward his heightened metabolism around the full moon.

“i haven’t,” remus confessed. “nothing looks good.”

“what about the muffins? you love muffins.” you stretched your arm across the table, careful not to shift too much and push remus’ head off your shoulder. it didn’t matter, because remus unbound himself from you on his own and reached for the muffins. he handed you one and began peeling the wrapper off his own.

peter’s mouth parted.

“d’you want some fruit? they’ve got fresh blueberries today. it must be a berry day,” you commented, holding your hand over your mouth as you chewed your muffin.

sirius looked vaguely offended. “hey, you just snapped at me for-”

“i’d love some.” remus pecked your forehead. “thanks, love.”

james blinked in a rapid succession of increasingly flabbergasted expressions. “but you hate blueberries! you literally just said that!”

“no, i didn’t,” remus said, raising his eyebrows as if challenging his friends to question him. “i have nothing against blueberries.”

“what? we went berry picking with hagrid last weekend.” you laughed incredulously as you handed remus a bowl of bright blueberries. “he ate, like, three slices of my blueberry pie.”

james crossed his arms, looking remus up and down smugly.

sirius scoffed. “you’re a bloody liar, moony. a big, fat, liar.”

remus shrugged, unphased by his friends’ accusations. “didn’t i tell you to shut up, sirius? i can’t deal with your stupid voice right now. you know my ears get sensitive around this time.”

remus looked down at you, admiring the way the apples of your cheeks rose as you smiled at him with complete adoration. if it weren’t for the equally mushy smile on his face, he would’ve probably been drooling.

 “what’cha lookin’ at me like that for?” you grinned—no, beamed—you beamed, flashing remus rows of teeth that he swore gleamed brighter than all the floating candles in the great hall.

“oh, nothing,” remus deflected. “you’ve got some blue on your face… here, let me…”

you knew what this was. remus did this all too often. still, you let yourself indulge in his ploy, melting into his touch as his lips wiped away the remnants of your breakfast. when he began to pull away, you grabbed hold of his gryffindor tie and yanked, pressing your lips to his with finality.

james and sirius looked disgusted. peter, ever the romantic, bit his cheek to keep his smile at bay.

“i think i’m going to be sick,” sirius groaned, clutching his stomach. “james, will you hold my hair back?”

“anything for you, lovie dovie baby darling,” james cooed, twisting his voice into a poor imitation of remus’. “i’ll eat all the blueberries in the world for you, honey sugar pumpkin sweetie.”

remus lobbed a slice of unoasted bread at james’ face.

#remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #1k followers celebration #grumpy x sunshine

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

some more ieytd headcanons but ones specifically centered around zoraxis staff. prism is mentioned but not really in a spoiler way. nothing is mentioned that the trailers haven't already revealed so idk

Juniper

Struggles to keep long term relationships of any type because showing that he cares about people is incredibly difficult for him. He likes to imply it and just… hope the other person knows. But what seems obvious for him is incredibly vague for others around him.

(He has lost most of his friends and all of his partners to this phenomenon and he’s really bitter abt it)

He hates embarrassment so much that the second he starts to feel it his brain translates it straight into rage. Unfortunately, this quick fuse normally causes something to happen that only embarrasses him further.

He talks to himself a lot. Which means that he thinks to himself out loud, but he also literally talks to himself. Refers to himself as ‘John’ and hypes himself up whenever he’s about to do something he deems important. 

His conceit actually comes at the consequence of making him incredibly paranoid. Whenever someone’s talking or laughing, he always needs to take a second to eavesdrop and make sure they’re not talking about him. 

Roxana

Suffers from very intense time blindness- both in regards to her work, as well as her personal life.

Robutler being there was probably the only thing stopping herself from wasting away after she left the Agency. She can, will, and has forgotten to eat, drink, and sleep while she’s been working on projects before. 

Names are incredibly important to her. They’re a sign of basic respect, and over the years that mentality has affected how she communicates with… pretty much everyone around her. She uses them a lot more than the average person would because of that.

(It makes talking w/ Fabby so hard because calling her ‘Fabricator’ feels. bad. That’s not a name dude. even Zor has a name Fabs come on work with her here.)

Really hates unpredictability. Only eats from a small pool of foods because that’s the only stuff she’s absolutely certain she’ll like. Working with her robots is so comforting because she’s always aware of exactly what their thought process is going to be. 

Solaris

She’s naturally very loud. Volume control is pretty much never at the forefront of her mind, but at the same time she gets really annoyed when people tell her to keep it down.

Believes (wrongfully, mind you) that everyone else has at least a neutral relationship with her. Is completely unaware that some of the crew are absolutely terrified of her.

Says what she means and means what she says; rarely ever sugarcoats stuff, and hates needing to decipher other people when what they mean and what they say don’t intertwine.

Praise doesn’t really do anything for her. Obviously it’s nice to receive, but it doesn’t make her feel any better about the work she does. In that regard, she’s entirely self motivated.

She’s very prone to sleepwalking. She’s learned the hard way to cut herself off from her projects and actually go to bed after too many incidents of her wandering around in the lab, bumping into who knows what.

Fabricator

Gets mad easily, and stays mad for a really long time. The sort of person to shake with how visceral her anger is. ‘An eye for an eye’ is one of her daily affirmations, she is not above revenge in the slightest.

She enjoys the way that most people shrink away from her in fear, and plays up her unnerving demeanor just for the fun of it sometimes. However, sometimes people will be scared of her when she’s not even trying, and she will be completely oblivious as to why.

(It's like that scene in Bad Guys where they can’t even get a check for their meal because the staff are all cowering, so they just have to leave the cash on the counter. Waiters in the kitchen drawing straws trying to decide who’s gonna be forced to serve her)

Poison has been her special interest since before she was even working with Zor. Obviously, they’ve only fueled that fire of hers since.

Absolutely adores creatures that people would consider stereotypically terrifying, so long as they have aesthetic appeal. She’d wear a live snake around her neck like a feather boa. She baby talks to Zor’s scorpions. She takes design inspiration from tarantula coloration. You get me.

Speaks with her hands a lot. If you stand too close to her she’ll probably poke your eye out.

#ieytd #i expect you to die #headcanons #the fabricator #commander solaris #john juniper #roxana prism #me and the girlies 💕 (and juniper too ig 🙄) #none of them are neutotypical. that's the theme of this specific compilation. #writing these down mainly so that i can keep a consistent interp of them inside of my mind. jic i want to write w them more in the future

[nostalgiachan]

Blooddrunk

Thirtieth Prompt: A drunken night out

C/W: basically NSFW (vampire feeding GONE SEXUAL whoa wow), blood

Summary: Vier wants to take Astarion out for drinks, but remembers there's only one real way for him to get drunk. Good thing she's a cleric. (3,018 words)

---

It had only been two months since Vier had brought Astarion to her home in Dawnshire, but she could tell the provincial life was making him a bit antsy. While his nights in Baldur’s Gate had been an endless nightmare of blood and suffering, the fact remained that the hustle and bustle of the city was what he was used to. Eventually, she hoped he’d come to enjoy the comparative peace and quiet of small town life, but it would take time before his wild heart settled into it. What he needed in the meantime was a little excitement.

Perhaps, Vier thought, a night out on the town would do him some good. While much of the village was still rebuilding in the wake of the nautiloid attack, through sheer providence, the Golden Dew Inn had survived - not a particularly bawdy tavern, especially by Baldur’s Gate’s standards, but still a lovely place to spend an evening. They could head out, mill about town a while, get some drinks and–

Wait. Shit.

Did Astarion much care for drinking if it couldn’t get him drunk? And now that her mind was on the subject, how was he able to drink wine, anyway? She was certainly no expert on vampire biology, but to her knowledge, all food turned to ash and all drink to bile in a vampire’s mouth, thus the whole need to consume blood. Had that been why he’d always complained about perfectly good wines tasting like vinegar, or had he just been hard to please? And despite his attempts at drinking, the only time she remembered seeing him actually drunk was that night he’d exsanguinated a bear.

Planning a date would’ve been hard enough for Vier had Astarion been mortal; how did one go planning a date with a vampire spawn?

The memory of the night with the bear stuck around a bit longer than expected, and slowly, a question rose to the forefront of her thoughts: would she be able to replicate that effect with her own blood? How much blood did a bear have, exactly? Obviously, more than your average mortal, given the massive size difference. Even if she allowed Astarion to drain every last drop from her - a thoroughly idiotic notion, given she was not about to waste a truly hard-earned resurrection scroll on a flight of fancy, and she doubted that Withers (wherever he was) would summon her back if she ended up dead of her own folly - he still likely wouldn’t receive the same amount of blood.

But there was always her steadfast ally, the lesser restoration spell, wasn’t there? Casting it on herself had become almost as much a daily ritual for Vier as giving thanks to Lathander at each sunrise. Frankly, she was amazed Astarion hadn’t gotten tired of her taste yet, given how he indulged himself in her each and every night. She worked out a few more numbers in her head. By her estimation, she could lose about a liter and a half before she would need to cast the spell. Once she crossed that line, it would be much more difficult to focus on casting, and once she hit two liters, she was almost certainly a goner. She could cast the spell up to thrice, with short breaks between to allow time for the blood to regenerate, meaning she could give somewhere between four-and-a-half and six liters, all in all. Would that be enough?

As her mind lost itself in puzzling out the details, her body was left quite vulnerable as she sat on the couch in her office. Sensing this moment of weakness, a certain pale form was drawn to her side, quietly wrapping its cold embrace about her shoulders and startling her nearly out of her skin.

“Oh, dear,” Astarion cooed into her ear as he nestled his head against her left shoulder. “Someone looks deep in thought. Nothing’s troubling you, I hope?”

“No, no,” Vier quickly breathed as her pulse quickly evened out. “Just thinking, is all. Though now that you’re here, I wanted to float an idea your way.”

Astarion picked up his head to get a better look at Vier as she regaled him with the details. “Ooh, by all means, float on.”

As Vier walked him through the entire thought process, from the desire for a date night to the blood plan, a smile slowly crept across his face. “You know, I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to you being so sweet on me,” he finally said as she wrapped up her explanation, “but I do have one teensy concern. See, as much as I absolutely want this,” - his words positively dripped with desire - “are you sure you’re not going to hurt yourself? A bloodthirsty scoundrel I may be, but I’m not as alright with the idea of accidentally killing you as I used to be.”

Vier couldn’t entirely tell if he was joking with her. “I would hope you wouldn’t be alright with it at all, but we’ll get there one day, I suppose,” she grumbled with a grimace. “And about the only thing I’m sure of is that I want to try this for you. Worse comes to worse, I keep the resurrection scroll in a hidden drawer in my desk. I know you’ve already figured out how to pop that one open.”

With a tut and a pout, Astarion asked, “Have I really gotten that sloppy?”

“No, but I know you, dear,” Vier explained, “and I know you’ve probably rummaged through every container in my dormitory and at least half of those in the rest of the temple by now.”

“Aw, you really do know me,” Astarion said with a wistful sigh and a mischievous glint in his eye. “Promise I haven’t stolen anything, though; you took a great risk convincing your colleagues to let me stay here, and I swear I won’t do anything to get myself thrown out. On purpose, anyway.”

An opportunity presented itself, and Vier simply couldn’t pass it up. “You’re being a good boy?” she asked as her head leaned in just a touch, a sly smile crossing her face. Astarion responded in kind, leaning in even closer.

“Oh, I’m being a very good boy,” he hummed, his voice dropping dangerously low and quiet with each word.

“Which is why you’ve earned this little treat,” Vier replied. But just as Astarion could no longer contained himself and pressed in towards her neck, she put a finger to his lips to stop him. “Ah, wait, before you start.” 

If Vier didn’t know any better, she’d have thought the man had started panting with anticipation. His red-eyed gaze locked on her intensely as she pushed him back just a hair. “Do you think you can keep your feeding clean, or should I put down some rags? I’d rather my office not look like the infirmary when all’s said and done.”

“I’ll keep the feeding clean, I’m sure,” he breathed with impatience, “but I make no guarantees about the rest. Now, may I?”

Something about the way he asked flipped a switch in Vier’s mind. A warm blush spread across her cheeks, and her gut fluttered like it was their first night all over again. It was going to be a lot harder to focus if her mind was half turned to love-drunk mush. This elf truly did have an incredible power over her, didn’t he? The next word came out much weaker, much softer, much more submissive than she’d initially intended.

“Please.”

With a flash of a fanged smile, Astarion reached across Vier’s lap and guided her to straddle his waist. The moment she was mounted and ready, he threaded one of his pale hands into her sussur bark hair and pulled her throat down to his eager mouth. His plush lips pressed against the skin in a teasing kiss, as if he wanted to make her wait for what lay just behind them - as though he hadn’t already shown her just how much he wanted to dive right in. She wanted to roll her eyes and say, “Sweetheart, just get in there already,” but the familiar sensation of his teeth finally piercing into her neck stopped the words.

Vier braced herself against the top of the couch as Astarion drained the sweet crimson from her, the sound of his lewd swallowing filling her ears. She wanted to cling tightly to him, to grip him by his luxurious hair and pull him in more and more, but she needed to stay focused. She couldn’t let herself get lost in the feeling of her lifeblood blissfully ebbing away and the delicious pain of his fangs piercing deep.

But gods, was it hard. Vier’s pulse had already been set to racing purely by being wrapped in Astarion’s deathly cold embrace, making it difficult to gauge when it began racing due in greater part to the blood loss. The heat of her body seemed to rise and fall in equal measure as he drank deeply from her. Had he started drinking faster, or was that the illusion of her brain beginning to cloud over?

No, don’t lose focus now.

Vier recentered herself, slipping as she was into the haze. She lifted a hand from the back of the couch, and intoned the words, “Vincere est vivere”. This was Astarion’s cue to take a break for a moment, and to her slight surprise, he freed her from his hungry jaws, slumping back onto the cushions with a half-lidded look in his eye. Vier’s body followed, her head resting against his shoulder a moment as the blood quickly regenerated within her veins. Her breathing steadied, her mind cleared, and her body temperature evened out - though as her faculties returned, each would be sent into total overdrive.

Once her head stopped swimming, she simply couldn’t help herself from turning his face towards her and kissing him deeply, harshly, the acrid taste of iron filling her mouth as their tongues collided. It was almost embarrassing the way she loved how he killed her, little by little. She could feel his skin growing the slightest bit warmer to the touch, and a distinct movement beneath her let her know he was enjoying himself as much as she was. At that rate, they weren’t going to make it to the second round. But for the experiment’s sake, they needed to continue.

Vier pulled away, her breathing ragged, and moaned out, “Alright, keep going.” Astarion wasted no time obliging her, swiftly pushing back her hair and tucking in once more. Loudly, Vier whined as fangs once again met flesh and her blood became his. Though she should have kept herself braced, did everything she could to maintain awareness, she was getting far too into it now. Once more, her heart set to beating wildly in her chest, once more her mind was awash in a haze of confusion and arousal. She could feel his nails digging into the back of her neck and the base of her spine. She couldn’t tell which of the two of them started grinding against the other first, but both of them were greedily pulling at each other, wanting to sink deeper inside one another.

Astarion was moaning now, growling now, as he feasted upon Vier, and though he’d promised to keep things clean, he was beginning to grow quite messy. At first, only a trickle of blood escaped the confines of his lips. But then, the trickle grew into a stream which traveled down Vier’s chest, staining her white blouse a deep maroon. She could feel him start to pull away, intent on following the stream and catching what he’d lost on his tongue, but she kept her hand locked on the back of his head to hold him where he was - if he pulled out now, her blood could very well end up staining more than just her shirt.

Once more, the edges of Vier’s vision began to darken, and as much as every fiber of her form seemed to cry out for that sweet, final release, she needed to restore herself. Again, she raised her hand, and again, she spoke the words. But this time, her mind and body struggled to summon up the healing energies within. While they did find their strength at last, would she be able to do it once more, or would she be too far gone to pull herself back?

More importantly, would Astarion have the willpower to stop himself? Because with the second cast, he didn’t release Vier immediately. No, he seemed to clamp down tighter this time, desperate to take just a bit more before the positive energies coursed through her circulation and sent him reeling away with a sputter - for the days of being healed by healing magic were once again behind him. As he leaned back on the couch once more, a groan pouring forth from his blood-soaked mouth, Vier noticed something peculiar - the sclerae of his eyes had turned pitch black, a curious reaction.

“It’s funny,” Vier rasped, her breathing slowly growing less haggard as the restorative magic took hold again, “your eyes look just like mine now.”

“Do they, now?” Astarion asked, his words coming out in a relaxed drawl. “Then I must have some lovely eyes, indeed.”

With a tired laugh, Vier’s head slumped onto Astarion’s shoulder once more. His skin had begun to gain a blush of life, nearly as warm as her own. If she listened closely, she swore she could almost hear a faint thud somewhere within his chest. Her lips returned to his, the sanguine taste even more overwhelming now as her tongue delved deep within. 

“Are you ready for the last of it, my sweet,” Astarion moaned after their lips finally parted, “or are you going to make me beg?”

“Oh, I’m very tempted to, dear,” Vier chuckled dangerously, “but you did say you’ve been a very good boy, so I won’t keep your treat from you. I’m–”

The word “ready” had barely left her tongue before Astarion pounced upon her for the last time. Harder now, he bit into her, tighter now, his arms constricted her, as though he feared she could escape his clutches at any moment. Cries of pleasure echoed across the walls of the office, cries which Vier was far too gone to attempt to stifle now. She tried to snake one of her hands down into the infinitesimally small space between their legs to massage the mound which pressed against her, but her arms quickly grew weak with the speed of his feeding. Her mind struggled to remember her purpose, torn as her body was between sweet ecstasy and rapidly approaching death. Colder and colder, she grew, as more of her lifeblood fell from his lips and drenched them both. For a moment, she nearly forgot the words of the spell entire, and she was tempted to simply allow herself to go - she’d told Astarion where the scroll was, after all, and perhaps a little death wouldn’t be so bad?

No! She’d come too far to fail at the last hurdle now. One more cast was all she needed. Astarion would have an entire person’s worth of blood within him, he’d be happy, and they could go out and…do the thing…whatever she’d said she was going to do with him. What had it been? What was she even doing there? Why was she feeling so cold…

But just as Vier’s mind began to slip past the threshold, Astarion suddenly disengaged with a deep and thoroughly satisfied moan and a great shudder of ecstasy, and the feeling of her blood seeping out into the open air jolted her back into awareness. Though her arms felt heavier than stones, she raised a hand and strained to get the words out as the world turned to mist around her. “Vincere est…shit…Vincere est vivere!”

As he came to himself, Astarion pulled Vier back into a much gentler embrace, his hand delicately petting her head as it slumped against his shoulder yet again. “Oh gods, did we go too far?” he asked, his voice filled with a surprisingly genuine concern. “You’re alright. Please tell me you’re alright.”

“I’ll be fine, once all my blood’s back,” she sighed against his now quite warm skin. “Just, you know…give me a minute.”

Vier couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard Astarion sigh with relief. “Good, because I would feel just terrible if I was the only one feeling as good as I do right now.”

With a hint of a struggle, Vier pushed herself back up to look at him. Though he was still pale, his skin now held a healthy pink glow to it. His eyes had returned to their normal state, and he looked deeply, truly satiated in a way she’d never seen before.

“So, er…was it good for you?” she wearily joked, wiping the sweat from her still slightly clammy skin.

“Darling, aside from the bits where I was worried for your life, it was absolutely incredible,” Astarion replied, practically vibrating with excitement. “Look at me, I’m harder than adamantine and feel like I could fuck an orthon to death. You have utterly spoiled me tonight, my love.” “Oh, good, good. I think we’ll need to practice this whole process, because it was a bit touch-and-go for a while, but I’m glad the first attempt was a success. Say, erm…we can’t go out looking like this.”

For seemingly the first time, Astarion noted the fact they looked like they’d just gotten back from a visit with Bhaal - their clothes were absolutely soaked through, the couch was half-smeared, and a few splatters had even made it to the wall behind them.

“Oh…no, we certainly cannot,” he noted.

“So, I’ve got a bottle of Stagswift tucked away in my desk,” Vier continued. “What say we throw our clothes in the laundry, I polish off that bottle, and then you clean off all the blood you spilled on me, if you catch my meaning?”

“Darling, there is nothing I’d like more.”

#my writing #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion #named tav #drow tav #cleric tav #vier alurlssrin #vampire feeding

[skylarmoon71]

Timeless Wells (Flash) - Speedster Chapter 22

An interesting evening indeed.

Harrison stops by some time around ten. Upon seeing your sleeping form on the couch, he smiles. He notices the way your cheeks are a bit swollen. Barry had shown up to his office in a similar state. He didn’t miss the slight redness under the scarlet speedster’s eyes. It appears you both were able to resolve the conflict. Because there was a lighter weight in Barry’s words when he bid his goodbyes. It’s fair to assume that you both had a full evening.

Harrison’s arms slip under your knees, the other supporting your back as he picks you up and heads to your bedroom. It’s clear you’re exhausted. He can’t really blame you. A lot has transpired in the last 24 hours. As he lays you on the bed and tucks you inside, taking a seat beside you. He brushes his hand along your cheeks. You shift a little, smiling.

“Harrison..”

It’s a sleepy mumble and he holds in a grin.

“How was I so blind before?”

Surely he must have been a complete idiot. With all that you went through he made it his priority to keep your needs at the forefront of his decisions so you could acquire all that you needed to live a long and happy life.

Maybe it made him ignorant to basic wants. You were always looking his way, so it felt normal to see your smile or that beautiful twinkle as you told him stories of how your week was going or what your friends got up to. Maybe he was just guarded as well. He’d lost his wife what felt like mere months ago. It has actually been years. The change in timelines and adjustment to universes was confusing. But he knew what it was like to lose someone cherished. So did you. You both have led very challenging lives that somehow led you to each other. If that wasn’t fate, he wasn’t sure what was.

“I promise..I’ll cherish you.

His hand was still soaking in the warmth that emitted from your skin. When you squinted slightly, he found himself pulling back.

“Harrison?”

You yawn, slowly sitting up.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

You shook your head.

“I-It’s okay I was already awake.”

That was clearly not the case. He enjoyed seeing this cute side of you.

“Did you have a good conversation with Barry?”

You nod.

“I did.”

“That’s good. I’m glad.”

You’re still wearing a smile, but you’re now shifting in the bed and he’s inclined to ask why.

“Something on your mind?”

There’s a lot on your mind.

“I was just thinking. If you want to..you could stay..”

The invitation is a bit of a surprise, you can tell by his expression. That slowly changes and when he slides his glasses off, you begin to contemplate if it was truly a good idea to tempt this man.

“What exactly would I be doing if I were to stay?”

“Well we could have another movie night.”

“The last one resulted in me attacking you. I’m not sure that is the best option. Unless..”

All you do is blink and you’re pinned to the bed. You stare up in shock.

“Is that what you were hoping for?”

You can’t deny it.

But you’re not going to admit it either.

Harrison leans over, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Your eyes close and you desperately await it. His touch. You crave it. His head turns, and now you’re both face to face. You can feel his breath so close. If you lean just an inch you can close the space.

Harrison smirks.

“I’ll see you tomorrow (Y/N).”

Your eyes shoot open, all you catch is a wink and he’s gone in a burst of green glowing particles.

You just gape.

He did that on purpose. 

#reverseflash #genderswap #trust #care #feelings #timeless wells #flash #harrisonxreader #change #cute #fluff #harrison wells #humor #love #family

[the-larxist-manifesto]

GameGirl31 ~ Dr. Mario

It's Dr. Mario time. We all know it. We've all played it (even if you don't remember how or why). We all are a little more than confused by its existence.

Let me briefly tell my story with Dr. Mario. When I was just a girl—at a time where my only video games were whatever random N64 and PS1 games my parents owned—I really looked forward to the occasional visit to my gamer aunt and uncle's house. Having extended family who are into video games is just the coolest feeling as a child, when all other grown-ups do only boring stuff like reading and fishing trips. During one fateful day out with my aunt, I was gifted my very own Nintendo DS Lite—the first console I felt was truly mine. An amazing feature of my silver DS, I would come to find, was backwards compatibility with GameBoy Advance games! And one of the first games I received to test it out was a little combo cartridge called Dr. Mario & Puzzle League

My actual childhood Dr. Mario & Puzzle League cartridge! (alongside my physical copy of GB Dr. Mario :p)

I'll be blunt here: I hated Dr. Mario. Its companion, Puzzle League, was (excuse my pun) leagues better, offering tons of single player puzzles, customization options, and a catchy as hell soundtrack—in addition to its multiplayer connectivity! Dr. Mario, sadly, only contained a couple of variations on endless mode; not much fun to be had for a child with no link cable to play with friends. Dr. Mario seemed too... simple. Only 3 colors? All you do is clear viruses? Nah, I was above this game.

And that was the last time I ever played Dr. Mario.

UNTIL NOW.

~Earning my PhD~

I began playing this game with the standard GameGirl procedure; playing a few rounds to get accustomed to the new environment, checking out the manual, conducting a small amount of personal research, and then setting goals to beat the game. The manual offered the usual gallery of fun official art and basic tutorial, but it didn't contain anything I didn't already know. That is, except one interesting detail that caught my attention.

Let me ask you a question that was at the forefront of my mind at this time: how do I "beat" Dr. Mario? An endless, arcade-style puzzle game with no story? The manual, Dr. Mario himself, had the answer.

Pay special attention to the second bullet point. I'll see "something special?" It's so ambiguous yet so enticing, and with such a difficult condition to discover whatever it was, I couldn't hold myself back. I knew that my destiny was to complete the game on the highest difficulty on the highest speed setting.

To do this, I put about 10 hours of work into practicing this game; matching colors, creating combos, managing junk pills, refining my reflexes, always looking at the next piece coming up, and then the one after that. I learned some very valuable techniques for getting far in this game. Always having at least one column available with each of the three colors is extremely helpful when you're given a pill (or, when you're unlucky, three or four in a row) of a color that simply does not match the current trouble virus. You must put care into placing each and every pill. You must be cunning to attack viruses from above, below, from the sides, or even a falling combo. You must be dexterous on the higher speeds, shifting pills across the bottle and rotating it twice in less than a second.

When I finally accomplished my first milestone, I was met with a scene I'd never witnessed before. A tranquil, wide open ocean floor...

The viruses sit there, watching the occasional sea life drift by. The sea appears so lonely...

~Dr. Mario master~

Yes, my goals for this game primarily entailed clearing levels at the highest difficulty. Specifically, I considered the game "beaten" if I cleared MED speed levels 5, 10, 15, and 20, and I considered it "100% completed" if I cleared HI speed levels 5, 10, 15, and 20. But what about the actual game? Was it fun? Worth becoming so competent at playing?

Unsurprisingly, this is the simplest and shortest GB title yet. I placed it here in the challenge as sort of a break from larger adventures, after all. The visuals are quite simple; beyond the initial gag of Mario dressed up in a lab coat, there isn't much to look at. The viruses do a funny little dance at the bottom of the screen, then get knocked over and blipped out of existence as you clear them. The game has a total of 6 unique songs: one for mode select, the iconic Fever and Chill that you may choose for gameplay, jingles for winning in multiplayer or setting up a combo of four or more, and then a special song for the special something after clearing one of the four MED or HI speed levels. The songs will easily get stuck in your head, and the special song was well worth earning each time I arrived at the bottom of the infested sea. The blips and bloops of gameplay will sometimes match up PERFECTLY with the gameplay themes; its like the composition is playing together with you, as well as being solid tunes that have been hummed by fans and remade by Nintendo for decades to come. They did a good job with the sound design, overall!

I guess my biggest gripe is... the overall concept of Dr. Mario? I still find it a bit too simple, even after all this time. There aren't many reasons to come back to it, if you aren't attempting the insane feat of 100% completion. The main draw of this game is the multiplayer and hoping that the satisfying falling-block match-4 formula keeps players hooked long enough to keep coming back when bored. But sadly, there isn't much versatility with the mechanics. Where other puzzle games contain a higher variety of pieces (Tetris), or greater combo opportunity (Puyo Puyo), or slicker visuals (Meteos), or some other wacky gimmick to keep you continuously exploring (Meteos again)... Dr. Mario falls short of a cure-all for boredom.

For the sake of this challenge, I did try out the multiplayer with a friend! A very cool feature of the NSO retro games is being able to connect with friends online, and play as if you were sitting across from each other with a link cable! In this game, you and your competitor (did you know that's what COM stands for? Competitor? Not "computer," as I always thought) race to clear the bottle of viruses before the other. The multiplayer does contain some unique visuals, including an indicator for how many remaining viruses your competitor needs to clear or how many wins you've accumulated (best three out of five).

Shoutouts to @br00f for playing with me! She beat me in a best of five that went all the way to game 5... and I have to call her Dr. Broof from now on...

~Conclusion~

In a vacuum, Dr. Mario is a well-made, fun, fast-paced puzzle game with some cool cutscenes and music to discover if you become skilled enough. Compared to other puzzle games, I find it a bit lacking in single-player content. I also think that the concept is a bit bare-bones, especially in this first iteration. Not much to accomplish beyond basic combos and managing three colors; it's almost too simple even for a casual player (as we witnessed in the Dr. Mario & Puzzle League anecdote).

Granted, I've never played the newer iterations of Dr. Mario. Maybe they've come up with more ways to shake up the formula? I won't be pursuing it anytime soon, I'm afraid; Dr. Mario just isn't for me. I can acknowledge it as a very important and solid GB title, worthy of being a member of the NSO library. That's about it.

Recommend? Sure, try it. It's probably as good as any other version of Dr. Mario

Oh, and I did manage to 100% complete the game! Check it out!

Look! All the viruses have been cleared away, the ocean flows freely with life once again~

#nintendo #gameboy #gamegirlchallenge #dr mario

[twistnet]

nsfw alphabet [ dmitri antonov ]

⋯ WARNINGS ; gn!reader + smut [ oral sex, cum, kinks, masturbation ]

⋯ DISCLAIMER ; if you are under the age of 18, do not interact [ nsfw content under cut ] this content is strictly for those 18+ ; any minors // ageless // blank blogs interacting with this post will be blocked

a = aftercare [ what they’re like after sex ]

absolute king of aftercare -- treats you like royalty and is so soft and caring of your needs. 

first, he’s showering you with kisses anywhere he can reach from whatever position he’s in. then, he’s slowly pulling out of you and stepping away from the bed to either run you a bath or wet a washcloth to bring back and wipe you down with. he’s cooing softly at you with each brush of his hands, and just showing you an extra bit of love with each press of his lips

b = body part [ their favorite body part of theirs, and also their partner’s ]

himself -- his chest and arms, or upper body if you really wanted just one. he loves showing off his strength, manhandling you in a way that makes you melt in his grasp or in the way he hovers over you as he fucks you into oblivion

you -- it’s gonna sound so cheesy, but he loves your eyes. it’s the first thing he noticed about you when the two of you first met and it’s always been at the forefront of his mind every time he’s thought about you -- how your eyes would look while gaze up at him, how your eyes would roll back when he hits that spot deep inside you... yeah

c = cum [ anything to do with cum basically…i’m a disgusting person ]

would prefer to cum inside you, likes watching his cum drip out of your hole before gently pushing it back in as he utters something sweet in russian -- it’s nothing you understand, but it sounds so sexy 

d = dirty secret [ pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs ]

wants to either share you with someone, or have them watch him have his way with you. it’s something he’ll never confess to, even if you ask him, because it seems like a weird thing to ask and he doesn’t want you to be offended by it

he’s already got the perfect person in mind, if the idea ever slipped from his mouth, but for now it’s just his best kept secret that he’ll probably hold onto until he dies

e = experience [ how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing? ]

dmitri has quite a bit of experience, having been married with a son, this man knows what he’s doing to a certain extent -- not like you’ll have to show him where things are. however, he did treat each encounter he has with a new partner like it’s the first time. wanting to map out every little spot that makes you see nothing but stars

f = favorite position [ this goes without saying ]

cowgirl -- loves it when you ride him, and can honestly say that it’s his most favorite out of everything the two of you do. there’s just something about you taking over what little control you think you have, and fucking him so good that he can’t ever deny you the want to ride him

missionary -- going back to your eyes, he likes being able to see your eyes. hence why he likes this position if you aren’t riding him. he wants to take in all of the expressions you make, and he wants the satisfaction of getting to see your eyes roll to the back of your head after you cum

bent over any flat surface -- probably the most used on when time is short, as there ever isn’t enough time for him just to take you so he just ends up bending you over the nearest flat surface and having his way with you. you never complain, however, and are always more than happen to oblige him whenever he’s in the mood

g = goofy [ are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc ]

isn’t rally the one to goof around the moment as this needs to be somewhat of a serious endeavor due to some of the things that may take place -- but he’s not above teasing you lightly here and there about how cockdumb you’ve gone or how blissed out you look

h = hair [ how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc ]

full bush -- probably hasn’t trimmed in a few years but it’s somehow sexy and completely suits him

i = intimacy [ how are they during the moment, romantic aspect… ]

dmitri can be such a softie for his partner and he really does pull out all of the stops to be romantic and loving during the moments you have together. it’s a physical way of him being able to show you just how much he truly cares for and loves you

j = jack off [ masturbation headcanon ]

during his time as a prison guard, he's not going to deny that he jacked off more times than he could probably count -- he’s alone with a bunch of other men with the only source of sexual relief coming from his left hand and a playboy magazine

though, now that he’s in the us, he doesn’t do it as often as he has you to fill in that void -- but he never pressures you into anything

k = kink [ one or more of their kinks ]

daddy -- quite possibly has one of the biggest daddy kinks, and something just switches in him when the word slips passed your lips 

breeding // creampie -- walks hand-in-hand with the above kink, and he almost borderlines these kinks with the above. something in him loves seeing him cum drip from your hole, and all he wants to do is get you around and full -- whether a child is something you actually want // are able to have, is not really important. he just likes knowing you’re his and his alone

l = location [ favorite places to do the do ]

dmitri is a pretty classy man, in the sense that he really only wants to take you in the privacy of your own home -- no one else should get to see you in such a position, unless the idea was agreed upon before getting started. plus, there’s no interruptions from anyone and he gets to take you apart at his own pace

m = motivation [ what turns them on, gets them going ]

domesticity -- loves seeing you in a natural state, or doing something simple like folding up the weeks laundry. seeing you just do simple housework is a huge turn-on for him. and he knows why, but he’ll never say it aloud

feistiness -- while he will never see you as someone who is weak, he does love the determination and courage you seem to float in everywhere you go. he enjoys seeing you sitka up for yourself or put them in their place

learning his native tongue -- oh man, if you ask him to teach you how to speak russian, and then start using the phrases he’s taught you around the house -- he’s instantly on you. it’s hot hearing you speak russian, even if you can only say a few words or sentences

n = no [ something they wouldn’t do, turn offs ]

any type of hitting or heavy bondage. and this goes without saying, but nothing that will hurt you – physically or mentally, and nothing that will cause humiliation. his worst fear is taking things too far and you getting hurt

o = oral [ preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc ]

giving -- always and without fail, giving is apart of his foreplay and needs you to come on his tongue at least once before moving on. those are the rules, and no one gets to stray from them. absolutely loves pleasuring you with his mouth and will not stop until you are a shakey and whining mess beneath him -- also, he loves having you sit on his face

receiving -- enjoys it, but never forces his partners to give on him. unless that’s part of the act for the night or you opt to do it yourself. either way, he’ll enjoy and let you know he’s enjoying it whenever you do so

p = pace [ are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc. ]

likes to do a mix of the two, essentially wanting to keep you on your toes. never allowing you to know his next move. there are times when he’s soft and taking it slow. enjoying the sight of you coming undone below him with each gentle but punctuated thrust. then, there are times when he’s setting a fast, and deep rhythm. one where he wants to hear you whimper into the pillows and how loud you can scream his name

q = quickie [ their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc. ]

is a big fan of them, especially when you’re having to leave him at home to run errands or go to work. he whispers promises of being quick in your ear as he gently pulls your bottoms down just enough to push into you -- wants to get his fill of you before you leave him, and then he’ll jump you the second you get home

r = risk [ are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc. ]

dmitri likes to test your limits, see what you can do or allow you to discover something about yourself that you never thought possible or even liked. so, he likes to experiment from time to time, but will always fall back on tride and true moves when neither of you are in the mood to try something different 

s = stamina [ how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last… ]

has a very high stamina and can last a couple of rounds before finally feeling the exhaustion seep into his bones. the main thing behind it is wanting to make sure you are well taken care of before letting himself go -- lasts around average and has a quick recovery time in between rounds

t = toy [ do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves? ]

doesn’t own any toys himself, but does like to incorporate toys into the routine if his partner does have something the both of you are wanting to try out. he’s not against using them on you, but would rather not on himself -- unless you both happen to find something that he might come to like, then he’s all game for it

u = unfair [ how much do they like to tease ]

likes to tease to rile you up. after all, he likes it when you’re feisty and glaring daggers at him. because it means that he’s doing something right. you’re getting frustrated with him, and sooner than later, you’ll be itching to go home and finish what he started

so, he’s not above sliding his hands along the inside of your thighs, ghosting his fingers over the front of your pants and giving you a little squeeze, flicking your nipples through your shirt, or grabbing a handful of your ass -- he will do so, and with a bright smile on his lips

v = volume [ how loud they are, what sound they make ]

medium in loudness, but he’s very talkative during the act. this man has no same in cursing, praising, grunting and groaning throughout and wants to make it well known that he’s enjoying himself to the fullest

w = wild card [ get a random headcanon for the character of your choice ]

never would have thought it until you made the mention of doing it, but he’s found he does like being tied up from time to time. being at your complete mercy with his hands tied together at the headboard lights a fire in him, especially when you’re riding him into oblivion 

x = x-ray [ let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words ]

oh, he’s big. just all around big. six to seven inches in length, and all around thick girth -- somewhere in the club where he’d have to prep you good the first few times. has a few visible veins running form tip to base, with a nice upward curve once he’s fully erect 

y = yearning [ how high is their sex drive? ]

doesn’t have an overly high sex drive, but as stated above, it doesn’t really take a lot to get him in the mood. there are times where if you are busy or just not in the mood yourself, he will take matters into his own hands but he’s not one to constantly want sex all the time

z = zzz [ how quickly they fall asleep afterward ]

dmitri isn’t one to fall asleep quickly, instead he likes to stay up and initiate some light pillow talk until he finally sees your eyes start to droop. and then, he’s turning out the light and pulling you into his arms, or vice versa.

he wants to make sure you’re alright and have all your needs satisfied before dozing off -- because heaven forbid he fall asleep and leave you still wanting more. he would probably have a stroke if that were to ever happen

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #dmitri antonov #dmitri antonov x reader #dmitri antonov imagine #gn!reader #twistnet #twistnet works 2022

[katcadecascade]

If you believe the lies I tell (Snowjanus fic Chapter Eight)

Ao3

Tumblr Chapter Index

Chapter Eight: Trust

Word Count: 2,968

With Clemensia carrying half his weight, they manage to get out of the school. She flags down one of the remaining chauffeurs and they practically dive into the back seat. They shout out the Corso address and the engine gets the car going. 

No more audience, it’s just them. Spearmint clashes against lavenders in such a tight space. Clemensia lets a hand go to at least open a window. It’s claustrophobic here, Coriolanus slides away to his side of the car, trying to catch his breath. 

Clemensia states bluntly, “You’re in heat.”

Coriolanus loses his usual grace. 

“I know!”

“Have you ever-“

“No!” He grips his hair, “I have never had a heat before!”

“Yeah, I can tell from how you’re freaking out!”

“Of course I’m freaking out!”

She reaches over, this time not for scenting but to check the temperature from his forehead. He knows he is warm, the problem is that Coriolanus has no idea if any of this is natural. Coriolanus has learned the basic textbook knowledge and the little his family has talked about, but that’s theory. Heats are a hypothetical that he refused to apply to himself until this very moment. 

“This isn’t something to panic over, Coriolanus.”

“Oh like you would know,” he snaps.

He doesn’t mean to lash out, it’s mainly his paranoia of the unknown that is frustrating him. Thankfully, Clemensia doesn’t appear too offended. 

“Hey it could be worse, you could’ve gone into a mating frenzy or baby fever for Sejanus.”

Now that has Coriolanus yelling out, “Fuck no!”

Intention, something like that can only happen if mating or wanting a child was at the forefront of his mind. The need for shelter and comfort is the typical purpose of heats. Coriolanus is so damn relieved that nothing that extreme was ever in mind regarding Sejanus Plinth. 

He still hates that his emotions latched onto the alpha. Even before the heat, Coriolanus knows that some part of him is stuck onto Sejanus but also Clemensia. 

Her presence is immensely important to his senses. This ever-growing flame continues to ignite his body, to seek her aid and comfort but Coriolanus is a stubborn fool.   

“I helped Lysie with her heats, I know how to help you too. Especially if you don’t have a nest prepared.”

“Oh no.”

Coriolanus knows how horribly unprepared he is. Not only about the mental and emotional tax of it all but the state of his house, his bedroom. It’s not a protective or possessive urge to keep his territory away from an outsider's eyes, it’s dread and shame. 

“Coriolanus?”

“No, you can’t.” His scent is all wrong, too sharp and overwhelming. A heat intensifies it all, weaponizing his anxiety to break out of his perfect mask. “No no no-”

“Hey, hey, calm down, it’s alright.” Clemensia pries one of his hands away from his disheveled hair. Smiling and linking their fingers together, she assures, “You still have time to build a nest before you’re in the thick of it. It’ll be alright.” 

She believes she’s saying the right words, and she is. It’s just that Coriolanus is the variable that makes everything wrong. 

“You can’t, Clemensia.” It’s a contrasting beg that can only be spilled by his lips, “I can’t let you help me.”

“What? No, Coriolanus, you shouldn’t spend your heat by yourself. It’s your first one, I won’t let you feel like you’re alone.”

“Clemensia,” the words are rough in his throat, declaring, “I’d rather be alone than let anyone in my home.”

Her concerned eyes look into his glaring, angry scowl. Coriolanus has always rejected her kindness, yet treated her as his friend. There was a tolerance, a barrier between his life at school and his home. Coriolanus continues to enforce that separation, even at the cost of Clemensia’s feelings. 

There’s something clicking behind her eyes. Clemensia is the smartest person Coriolanus knows. He hoped that she never analyzed him but she’s doing it now. 

Whatever conclusion she thought of has her surrendering, “...okay.”

On the logical side of things, everything is good. They’re enroute to the Snow’s penthouse, away from prying eyes and confusing scents. There may be enough time to swallow down scent blockers to aid his body, that is if the heat does not burn through the medications immediately. Also he could tamper down any nesting habits simply but not having any materials in the first place. 

Never before has Coriolanus been so happy at the thought of returning to his dilapidated home. 

The staircase leading up to the penthouse mocks him. 

“At least let me help you up.” 

Clemensia’s looking at the old double doors of a luxury he doesn’t have.  

“The elevator is broken.”

A weight of dread falls in his stomach as he watches the briefest expression of confusion to analyze to acceptance. 

“Alright, stairs it is.” 

They walk the twelve flights of stairs in silence, passing by abandoned rooms and decaying wallpaper. 

His home is a weakness, evidence of how the grand Snow name is falling. The worse case scenario was all of it getting exposed, of wolves and lions pouncing. 

Yet Clemensia keeps any comment to herself, reshaping the anxiety into a snake in the grass. 

When they’re at his door, Clemensia asks, “You have everything you need?”

“Yes,” he lied. 

From her frown alone, it’s clear that she knows he’s lying. 

Coriolanus wonders how many times Clemensia knows that he has lied straight to her face. 

Coriolanus slips past the door as fast as he could but he knows that Clemensia Dovecote has seen more than anyone else in the whole Captiol.

He thinks she said his name again behind the closed door. It could be his heart reaching for her, for more than he could ask for. 

His sweltering body lumbers to the kitchen cabinets. Without anyone, this needy ache demands to be soothed by the presence of those he trusts. Coriolanus knows that’s a fever dream. In practiced motions, Coriolanus reaches for the pill bottle and swallows down a bunch of scent blockers. 

Arachne’s bizarre claim of taking blockers like a hard drug is obtuse. Yes any medicine can be abused if someone tried hard enough but that’s just it. It’s an innate need for scents, no amount of blockers will make a person want to live in a scentless world. 

As less complicated as that world seems, it doesn’t tempt Coriolanus. He does see the good side of scenting.

Just maybe not in the throes of a heat he never thought to have. So Coriolaus tries to stall it with the pills. 

It’s only temporary, it won’t be enough. Coriolanus can tell from this heat still humming through his body. His scent is significantly less intense but it continues to fill the room. 

There’s still one major problem with this heat. It will consume his body of energy, a body that has not eaten a full meal in days. His bones are weighty, something his malnourished body cannot carry. 

He doesn’t have any food to survive this.

This is what he meant about heats being a waste of time and energy.

If Coriolanus doesn’t have enough energy or satisfy his nesting habits, he could potentially get fever heated. 

A true fever combined with heartache, all their stories told as tragedies. How poetic it is for this to be Coriolanus’ fate. 

“Coryo?” Grandma’am steps out of her room, steps light on the cold floor as she draws near. “What’s going on? You should be in school.”

Coriolanus gives an abbreviated summary of events on how his life was ruined in the mere moments before class began. A laugh almost slips at how pathetically fast it all fell apart. 

He expects her face to be shaped by horror or maybe disappointment, anything to match the uncomfortable feeling growing in his own skin. 

Instead she pats him on the back, rubbing big circles as she embraces him into a hug. 

“Oh, my boy, I didn’t prepare you for this did I?”

“Why would you?” Coriolanus shakes his head. “I don’t need any of this. I shouldn’t have entered a heat in the first place.”

“But you did, no changing that now. Come, walk me back to my room.” 

As her obedient grandson, he does. 

Grandma’am’s room is nearly as minimalistic as his except for a few framed photos, a songbook, and her clothes. It once overflowed the closet but now it barely takes up half of it. 

Her exquisite taste in gowns and overcoats had cost Grandma’am a lot of her most cherished memories but sold them nonetheless. Yet there were things that were deemed too precious to sell off. 

She gestures for him to grab something under her bed. Coriolanus tugs out a small, tightly wrapped bag. At Grandma’am insisting nod, he opens it. 

The air is knocked out of his chest when the scent of roses enters the dusty, cold air. 

Coriolanus whispers, “What is this?” 

“It’s your mother’s. Blankets she used for her nests back when… back when she needed them.”

It was preserved as best as it could be, wrapped with plastic. A total of three, all faintly emitting the scent of roses. The rose powder in the compact mirror is an artificial cosmetic, something that would add onto her scent. This precious cloth in her son’s trembling hands, it truly is her last remnant. 

There’s one blanket much, much smaller than the rest.

A baby blanket.

His baby blanket. 

Coriolanus cannot fathom how tiny he once was. How that small creature began to shape and be shaped by the world. There was no urge to control or perform, back then it was all about simply being in the space provided.

A sick feeling enters his stomach at the realization that this baby blanket would’ve been passed to his younger sibling.

Helena Snow and her stillborn daughter never got that chance. 

Their passing was truly the start of this family’s ruin. 

Wordlessly, Coriolanus gathers it into his arms. He doesn’t care that his scent flares out, burning through the blockers he had swallowed down. What matters is saving every piece of his scattered heart for a heat that he has never allowed before. 

“Your mother rejected every scent of your father. She only needed you.” 

“But why do I-” He bites his tongue before he could finish that question. Coriolanus holds the blankets close. “Thank you Grandma’am.” 

Whatever look he has on his face, it doesn’t convince his grandmother. Aside from Tigris, this woman also raised him. If Tigris encouraged kindness, Grandma’am encouraged gaining power. 

“Coryo, you can control every aspect of your life, of your body.” It’s the reassurement that he desperately needed, that this is within his control. But then she adds, “A heat amplifies what’s already inside.” 

His grandmother hands over one of her pillows. Scenting fades with age but it’s still there, the scent of honeysuckles. 

Coriolanus accepts it but argues, “Am I supposed to trust them? They were people I had to deceive, to make them believe I’m as powerful and wealthy as the rest. I never once trusted anyone I could call a friend.” He gestures to the decaying walls around, “Look at our home Grandma’am. It’s so pitifully easy to ruin me, to destroy us!” 

It’s rare for him to be angry with his Grandma’am. Manner’s aside, he doesn’t want to yell at her but it highlights his desperation. The true fear of having a weakness is being unable to protect it. 

Grandma’am has all the wisdom in the world to know that her grandson is hurting and scared. 

“I of all people know what betrayal feels like.” A haunted look tugs on her wrinkles, briefly lost in a memory. Her eyes return to his, the sadness remains, “I’ve taught you to expect it at every corner of the world. I’m sorry, Coryo. I gave you dreams of total control.” She quickly assures,  “And that is still possible. You just need to trust your instincts when faced against the unknown.” 

As nice as a prose that is, Coriolanus knows what his instincts demand.

It’s something he struggles to ask for. 

“I can’t accept their help. It would mean that… It would mean too many things about me.”

A vulnerable side of Coriolanus Snow was revealed today. Even before the heat hit, Coriolanus gave his scent to Clemensia. It soothed a part of him and later on, Sejanus was an emotional anchor. 

All of this means that Coriolanus is capable of trusting others. 

It could be so easy to just accept that as fact. 

But survival is worth more than truth. 

This calculating impulse kicks in when Grandma’am says offhandedly, “I’ll call Tigris.”

“No, don’t take her away from work.” She needs her job and any money that can come from it. An assistant’s paycheck rather than Tigris selling off her scent. “That’s more important.”

Grandma’am frowns, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. “Nothing's more important than you.”

Coriolanus leans away, hoping his authority doesn’t sound like pleading, “Don’t call her. I’ll get something from her closet.”

Before he leaves her bedroom, Grandma’am imparts more words of wisdom.

“Heats clarify who you trust.” 

It’s a revelation that he doesn’t want to have. Yet once his consciousness learns it, it stays rooted in his skull. It flows into muscles as he grabs Tigris’ handmade, comfy robe and marches into his room. 

Coriolanus feels stupid doing all of this. Building a nest on his small bed. It’s so thin, nothing as lavish as what Arachne would brag about. She made a show of receiving tokens from her friends. 

All Coriolanus has are a few blankets and two pillows. He has the urge to tear it all apart but he could never do that to his family’s gifts. 

He tugs his uniform off, sweat uncomfortably clinging to the buttoned shirt. The thought of adding it to his nest never crosses his mind. Coriolanus does not seek comfort in his own scent. Donning a fraying sweater and loose pants, he feels more unnatural in his own body than ever before. 

Coriolanus knows how pale he is but one glance in his mother’s compact mirror reveals he looks as bad as he feels. 

Sweaty, too warm, a gut wrenching loneliness that is eating his stomach. The air is cold, smells like a pine forest in the dead of winter. Spearmint has always reminded Coriolanus of a blizzard. Polar opposite, not just the scent and the fever but also his needs and wants. 

Coriolanus has always relied on his fears, more accurately his assumptions that everyone in his life will go against his wishes. It stemmed from his need for control, to maintain the glamor that fools others. His need to be the top student, to claim the wealth his family so desperately needs. 

As for what he wants? 

Wants are another reason to have fears. 

It may be alarming how fast his brain connects those two things, believing it two sides of the same coin. Yet this is the paranoia that Coriolanus lives with. The most well fed thing in Coriolanus’ world. 

There’s a knock at the door.

It’s not Tigris, is his first thought. 

Coriolanus’ fears are confirmed when he opens the door to see a determined Clemensia Dovecote and a nervous Sejanus Plinth. 

His voice is dead flat, “Why?” 

“You know why,” she answers. 

Coriolanus almost forgets that the scent blockers are entirely out of his system because he can’t smell lavenders or nutmeg. They’re both containing their scents, letting only their words and pathetic frowns influence him. 

It won’t work, is what he believes. 

He glares at them, refusing to be trapped. 

All he needs to do is shut the door. That’s all it takes and they will give up on him. 

There are so many chances where Clemensia could stop reaching out to him. Sejanus alone has plenty of reasons to despise them all, Coriolanus’ constant brittle nature would give anyone whiplash. 

Yet they left school, climbed the creaking staircase, and are at his doorstep. 

It could be in their nature to want to help, a need to feel helpful. 

“I said I won’t let you spend your heat alone.”

Coriolanus points accusingly, “So you brought him?”

“Yes!” There’s anger in that exclamation, surprising Coriolanus. Clemensia glares at the boys, “I don’t know what’s going on between you two but I won’t let you get a fever heated.”

There’s a lie on the tip of his tongue, Coriolanus’s not sure what the words are but it’s definitely a denial. It dies when he meets Sejanus’ gaze. 

Just like back when it was them alone in the classroom, Coriolanus feels seen. Sejanus knows Coriolanus, not just the little insight of his starvation for food but his cravings for victory. The alpha proudly encouraged Coriolanus to be at the top. 

Yet this time it’s obvious that Sejanus doesn’t like what he sees. 

This brings a dreadful burn in Coriolanus’ gut. 

“Please,” Sejanus begs. “You don’t look well, Coriolanus.” 

Any fight response inside of Coriolanus continues to diminish in the warmth of those brown eyes. 

“I… I don’t know what I’m doing.” The words are croaked out, more broken than soft. It’s his voice but Coriolanus barely believes it. “I don’t know anything about this.”

Sejanus pleads again, “Then let us help.” 

Maybe life would be easier if Coriolanus made them give up on him, to leave him alone. 

Yet that’s just it, Coriolanus has always isolated himself from his peers. He knows what loneliness is, how starved he is of things that cannot be eaten.

Clemensia and Sejanus have fed him time, conversations that felt real, and the chance to stop acting like everything in his life is perfect. 

Coriolanus Snow lets them in.

-

Thanks for reading!

#my fic #snowjanus #coriolanus snow #sejanus plinth #clemensia dovecote #snowjanus fic

[autumn-sweet-fae]

Honest question, does the 'Emmet is Dawns father' rumor ever die down? 'Cause unfortunately I can kinda see how that could be potentially damaging if it keeps going on for too long.

Emmet's not the kind of person who would sway at random rumors normally, but to be at the forefront of a LOT of media bashing and harmful conspiracies for years before Ingo came back could cause him a lot more mental/emotional distress than it normally would've in the past if people just...don't let up.

Maybe I'm too empathetic but to be accused of having neglecting a kid for so long when you've never even had romantic feelings for anyone in your life, never mind having a whole relationship with some random woman just feels...kinda gross ngl.

I can unfortunately see that if the rumor get really persistent Emmet could involuntarily distance and close in on himself. At that point its just an ingrained defense mechanism to the backlash of misguided angry people who want 'justice' when he didn't do anything wrong.

And from Dawn's perspective, it was funny at first, but then people start taking it way too seriously telling her to turn on her 'Dad' and 'make him feel sorry for all of the years of neglect and abandonment' from him. And getting unsolicited comments/messages of 'if he hurts you and your mom again lets us know and we'll get his a**' from people who mean well but of course don't get its just a joke at that point.

I'm just saying its a meme that could get really twisted really easily, and I'm only hoping it doesn't get to that point in the AU 'cause I think Emmet's been through enough.

I can assure you that once it’s clear that Akari is in fact Dawn then the absent father dad theory absolutely dies down to fringe theory/meme statues.

Anyone with two brain cells to rub together would do the basic maths of 29 - 14 = 15. So even if there are still people who genuinely believe Akari to be his daughter, no one could blame a 15 year old, an actual child, from backing out of fatherhood. If he even knew of Akari’s existence, supposedly. 

The only reason the theory ever got any real traction in the first place was because no knew who Akari was or how old she was. She’s about 5’1/155cm so guesses ranged from 11-16 with the daughter theorist leaning more on the younger side.

At some point a kid challenger legit ask Akari her age, cause that’s one of the top five questions kids always ask new people, and Akari, unaware of her actual age, says 16. Because Captain Cyllene guessed her age to be 15 about a year ago, so logically she should be 16 by now right? (She’s currently 14, she just looked very healthy and well fed at 13 compared to a hisuian 13 year old so it was an easy mistake to make)

Once her alleged age of 16 is publicly known all the daughter rumors die down pretty quickly. No one believes Emmet had at kid a 13. Anyone who tries to ask at this time would get a blunt “I am 29.” And that would usually shut them up.

There would be a small bump in the theory’s popularity once Akari’s identity as Dawn is revealed, but by this point it’s largely just a meme. Most folks who still claim it must be true are either grasping at straws or just trying to stir up drama for attention.

Johanna would also absolutely shut those rumors down very quick. First stating that no, Emmet is absolutely not Akari’s father, and then full on scolding anyone who persist in this speculation. Johann had Akari fairly young but not 15 young. I put her at 2 and a half years older then the twins, so to insist that she had her daughter with someone that young when she was nearly 18 is down right damaging and insulting to her reputation. Also any speculation at all into her personal life at that time is none of anyones business and Dawns father is simply not in the picture and that is that.

After that scathing interview with Ms. Johnna the theory is functionally dead, only popping up as memes or in tabloids.

As for how Emmet handled it during its unfolding, he reaches a point where he honestly had to laugh. Because it’s just so outlandish to him and anyone who personally knows him. Like no one who knows him believed for a second that the rumors were true. Drayden shut down anyone who asked him, Iris laughed in the face of an interviewer, and of course Elesa has her own brand of chaos in how she handles anyone trying to push ridiculous rumors. 

Also, in the months following Ingo and Akari’s return, Emmet does honestly come to see Akari as his family. So Emmet being Akari’s dad is seen more as a family joke in the years to come and never becomes a serious issue. Also anyone with eyes would see that Ingo is the one who just radiates the fatherly vides around Akari. Emmet is solidly the Uncle of this relationship.

#submas wanted au #Emmet #Akari #Ingo #submas #johanna

[bluerose5]

Adding this thought to my growing collection of posts about the DA2 rogues and warriors being protective of the mages [1] [2] and my Justice & Fenris banters [1] [2] [3], since a couple of the replies brought up Justice's & Anders' situation/past.

At first, I could see Justice staying out of it, mostly because he knows that Anders has some basic melee training from his time with the Wardens, but he definitely kind of nudges Anders towards practicing more to hone those less-used skills. Basically, he adheres to the mentality that, if you don't use it, then you lose it, and Justice doesn't want Anders to always have to rely on him for close-ranged combat.

Cut to one of the group's training sessions out on the Wounded Coast. They're wrapping things up. The mages are exhausted. Most of the others have left by then. The sun is setting, and both Fenris and Anders are talking shit to each other as they are prone to doing. Other than them, only Hawke remains, and they're just waiting for these two to stop arguing like an old married couple so that they can return to Kirkwall together. Because there is no way that they are leaving these two alone, unsupervised.

Well, things are said, and Anders snaps. He challenges Fenris to another match, full contact this time, and Hawke is losing their shit because now they're stuck having to make sure that these two don't kill each other in the meantime. It goes about as well as one would expect. These two are completely at each other's throats, but Anders is actually holding his own, doing exactly as Justice wanted and putting his Grey Warden training to use. Then, without warning, Fenris' markings start to glow, and Justice is dragged forward.

The next time their swords clash, Justice is the one in control. Well, sort of. He and Anders are both there. They are both present; but, for once, they're not out of control. Anders is existing with him in the moment, actually harnessing the spirit within, so that they act as one.

It's strange, disorienting, but invigorating as well.

Hawke is biting-their-nails-off nervous. Fenris grumbles something about Anders using his demon, but Justice ignores that insult for once.

Instead, he smirks, clearly influenced by his host's personality, and readies his weapon.

"Yielding already, Fenris?" they taunt. For a second, Justice wonder if this is how Pride feels. "And here I expected a challenge."

Of course, Fenris doesn't back down then. They exchange blow for blow. Neither of them holds back, and for a while, there is no clear victor.

Then, Justice finds an opening and gains the advantage. Fenris ends up on the ground with his blade at his throat, but Justice withdraws before Hawke can get too worked up about it.

Justice offers out a hand to him, and Fenris can't help but think how different he looks when he's not forced out through emotional onslaught.

Justice even goes so far as to compliment him on his skill.

It's so obvious that he's trying his best, so much so that even Fenris can't resist a small smile, a mere ghost of his lips quirking up at the corners.

"Not bad," Fenris says, but he keeps his distance for now, gets to his feet on his own to dust himself off. "I still don't know if I trust you, but you can clearly keep the mage safe, at the very least. Come on. Let's go."

He waves Hawke forward, who instantly follows, grateful to finally leave.

But Justice stays pinned in place for a second too long, his heart racing as he stares after Fenris, that impressed tone seared into his very essence.

Anders has to all but drag him back from the forefront of their mind, confused by his sudden silence as he rushes to catch up with the others.

#dragon age #da2 #da justice #anders #fenris #hawke #justfenhanders #justfenders #are those the right names? xD #idk but justice is shook #someone help him #feelings are so confusing to him #bluerose rambles #bluerose writes #bluerose headcanons #oops this turned into a slight fic by accident

[365runesoftheamalgamations]

The Not Yet Disowned Characters pt.1

all photos can be found on Neal Anderson's Pinterest Board

welcome to the Beings of our Stories

Introducing Neal,

"Humanity is made of many flaws; to judge one based on their physical attributes is quite the foolish endeavor.”

The Basics

Four Millennia | Child of Spring | He/Him | Queer | Tempkin Full Name: Neal Anderson Associations And Titles: Antrium, King of Tempkinhand Relations: Brother to Shane and Taylor Anderson, Bonded and Promised to Rhy Anderson, Holding Connections with The Observer Mitch, Nephew to Grayland Shade Anderson Mitch's Notes: Knowledgeable of the Worlds within the Storyverse | A True King holding Discipline and Direction | A target for those wishing for the more purities of the Worlds | Holding presence in many stories but withholding himself from telling and focusing on one of his own | Vibrant and Known throughout the different Worlds, by different names | A Curiosity by Nature

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Physicality

Porcelain Skin | Amethyst Eyes | White Hair | No Marks Being/Beast: Immortal Main Magicks: The Impossibility of the Immortals, The Tenderness of the Herbalists Genetics: Albinism, Sunlight Sensitivity, Astigmatism, Loss of Bodily Color Significant Props: Simple Necklace, No Weapons Significant Costumes: Emerald Green Cloak, Short/No-Sleeved Simple Tunic, Casual Traveling Pants (Casual) | Crown, Jewelry, Engraved Bō Staff, Layered Suit, Cape, Hood, Accessories (Formal)

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Personality

Compassionate | Unselfish | Courageous | Naïve | Soft | Impulsive Likes: Plants, Animals, Rhy Bread, Outdoors, Thunderstorms, Gentle Touches, Head Pats! :D, Flower Crowns, Windchimes Dislikes: Alcohol, Violence, Destruction, Slimy Things, Office Work, Deceivers, Jell-O, Moffee, Meetings, Getting Sick Strengths: Modest and Humble | Open-Minded and Curious | Fair and True Leader | Loyal And Faithful Connection | Enthusiastic and Holding Integrity | Loving and Kind Weaknesses: Self-Destructive Martyr | Ignorant Trust | Nervous and Anxious Trauma Responses | Chosen To Be Betrayed | Given Over To Heart Over Head | Giving Undeserved Benefit of the Doubt

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A Small Snippet

Mitch told stories a little differently than he had before.

Neal remembers when he would sit with Mitch, the Observer running a hand through his hair as he spoke images into reality, weaving tales that had always left Neal in awe. Now, the soft vocals barely lifted, their Connection alighting with images and sounds as Mitch talked about the World he had visited. Neal listens, hears, and barely glances up to take in the relaxed lean Mitch always did against the desk when he came for the quiet moments that seemed to slip away from them. He looks up when Mitch finishes, a small smile lifting as he takes in the considerate frown Mitch still had. Always thinking of different options and the thought of Neal visiting sits at the forefront of their shared Connection, even though Neal knew Mitch hates to put him in the risk that seemed to plague him. "Maybe we can go with Rhy; it seems like a very lovely spot to explore." Mitch blinks, barely shifting to catch Neal's eyes and the Immortal gives his brother a raised brow. "Or did you not want me to go?" Mitch rolls his eyes, bemusement rolling through as he shifts from the desk and waves a hand. "Discuss it with the child later then; you still have work to finish." He leaps away, only the soft whisper of Magicks left to settle as Neal gives a small snort and goes back to writing.

Mitch told stories differently, now that Neal had the power to visit the Worlds he had always shared with him.

#amwriting #character introduction #character intro #characters #original character #The Immortal Neal #Neal Anderson #writing snippet