#'hey wisps :D'

[ndostairlyrium]

He's so cute I wanna strangle him

[oneluckydragon]

"Suddenly the world was gray and dull and my heart was so heavy I felt like I couldn’t move, let alone make it back to Treasure Town. But because of Echo’s last wish… I was able to keep living.”

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

SORA : (Partner)

Abilities: Justified / Inner Focus

Nature: Gentle / Hardy

Moveset: Aura Sphere / Metal Claw / Poison Jab / Dragon Pulse

[flowerbeds-and-fairywings]

doodles because i decided to be devious >:D surprise !!! ✨✨

( @heartofalark and the artilleryman / @ghostingselfships and the host ; @jocelynships and draxum / @edjlord and hypno ; @squips-ship and javert / @soulnottainted and copia ; @moth-selfships and mochi miles / @selinas-ships and cedric ; @gible-love-nibles and p03 / @wisp-herr and marvin )

[cats-thoughts]

a frog, two bird-cats, a phoenix, a raccoon moth, a moth, a pumpkin-crab, a devil?, a bird-cat-raccoon-deer?, a bunny^2, and a cat walk into the room-

my mutuals r better than everyone else's mutuals /silly

[rubydracogirl]

WOW SO

I did not expect that drawing of Stanley to get notes. Thank you all so much for that, I keep rolling around in the likes and reblogs like a husky in fresh fallen snow.

Since I wrote a one-shot with Reader kissing Ford, I thought about it, and Stan needs a hug.

Why don't we give him one? ^_^

Stanley PinesXReader

Rated T for depictions of tobacco and adult conversations.

"Just A Hug"

It had been such a long day at work. You couldn’t wait to lock up and leave, though you dreaded walking in the snow. The bitter cold was waiting for you with wide arms, and as you clocked out and zipped up your coat, you regretted taking this shift.

Fuck it, I need the money….

To your surprise, when you stepped out, you noticed someone out in the parking lot. A lone car, with someone leaning against it, smoking. You squinted, recognizing the silhouette. It was that weird science guy from the woods. Stan something. He’d just come in for a pack of cigarettes, a loaf of bread and a carton of eggs an hour before the store closed. But that was over an hour ago…

What was he still doing here?

You weren’t normally nosy, but it was late, and you had some… neighborly concerns. You didn't know him well, he'd always been a bit of a hermit. He had been coming into town more often this past month, so you'd seen him a lot more. You liked him alright, he seemed harmless.

You shivered in your jacket.

Why was he sitting out here in the freezing cold?

Screw it.

“Hey there, buddy, y’doing alright?”

He seemed slightly startled by your voice as you began to walk over and he waved at you sheepishly.

“Fine, fine, just, uh, enjoyin’ the uh, night life.” His gravelly voice called back to you.

“Yeah, real wild hangout this is. You should see it in the summer, we get all sorts around here.” You chuckled. “Can I bum one off ya?”

He looked at you with surprise before reaching back into his pocket.

“Didn’t take ya for a smoker, toots.”

“On occasion. Much appreciated.” You replied, reaching into your own pocket for a lighter.

You lit up before taking a deep drag, ignoring the cold and focusing on the calming rush of nicotine. As you blew out a thin wisp of smoke into the air, you looked at him from the corner of your eye.

“So, you wanna tell me why you’re hanging out so late at night?”

He gave a hoarse chuckle.

“Didn’t think anyone would care. It's not illegal, right?”

“No. Not illegal… but weird.” You replied. The pale smoke drifted into the air, and you leaned against his car with him. 

“C’mon, buddy. You can talk to me.”

He looked at you with narrowed eyes.

“Sweetheart, I don’t even know your name. M'not gonna bare my soul to a stranger, even if you are cute.”

“I wear a name tag, y’know. You probably would’ve seen it if you weren’t so busy looking at my tits all the time.” you replied boldly.

He snorted sheepishly at that. “Sorry. I uh, thought I was being discreet about it.”

“You’re not exactly the type of person I would label 'discreet'.” You chuckled. “You’re also not the first guy to ogle…. It’s (y/n), by the way. You’re Stan, right?”

“Yeah…Stanford Pines.”

You hummed thoughtfully.

“There, we’re acquainted now, for better or worse.”

He chuckled.

“You’re awfully pushy, Miss (y/n). I don't know if I like that.”

“Hey now, I'm not pushy, just worried… no one just hangs out in an empty parking lot during awful weather, not even in this backwoods town.”

He grunted.

“I don’t really want to talk about it, no offense, toots.”

You nodded.

“That’s fair… can you at least promise that you’re not up to mischief here, Mr. Mysterious guy?”

He looked down at you, and you saw the barest hint of a smirk appear on his rugged face.

“Not the kind of mischief that you need to worry about, honey.”

You squinted, trying to read his emotions. It was impossible, though you could clearly see lines of care and some deep worry behind his tired, dark eyes. In that moment, with the cold night pressing in and his presence the only warmth around for miles, you felt your heart clench into a single desire. He didn't want to talk to you, that was fine… but you weren't going to leave him like this.

“Ok, Stan. I won’t bug you anymore… can I ask for a favor though?”

“Depends on the favor, but shoot."

“Can I hug you?”

He actually choked, coughing out smoke and turning from you as he tried to regain control.

You winced in sympathy, but as he turned back to you, his already reddened cheeks were even redder.

“You're serious? A hug?” He repeated incredulously, his voice raw from the coughing. 

You nodded, adding sternly, “Don’t get any bright ideas, wise guy. It’s only a hug.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t- that wasn’t…. Sure. Yeah. I could hug you.”

It was obvious you had caught him off guard, but as you put out your cigarette and opened your arms, you didn't expect how strong he was. He pulled you in against his body effortlessly. The heat from his body stole your breath and suddenly, you didn't feel so cold.

His bulky frame shielded you from the winter air, his arms enveloping you perfectly. Your heart skipped as you felt him sigh.

You squeezed him tightly, resting your head against his shoulder. He smelled like cigarettes, cheap cologne and some strange, musky smell, like burnt metal. It was a strangely comforting scent, and you thought you felt him turn his head towards you. 

"You're so small…" he murmured softly, his breath puffing against your hair.

"Naw, you're just big." You shot back, but didn't lean away or let go. In truth, you didn't want this moment to end...

Inevitably, he let go after a moment, awkwardly patting your back, his cheeks still rosy, though it could have been from the cold. You gave him a smile. 

"Hey, if nothing else works out for you, you can at least know that you're a good hugger, Stan Pines."

"... Thanks." He replied quietly. You suspected he wasn't just thanking you for the compliment.

It was getting close to midnight, and you decided you had been nosy long enough. You patted his shoulder, giving him a soft grin.

"I suppose I'll leave you to it. See ya around, Stanford."

He piped up, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"Wait, (y/n)… look, do you, uh, need a ride?"

You considered it.

"Hmm. You're not gonna kidnap me, right?"

"No! No... Not tonight, no." He chuckled.

You giggled.

"Not tonight huh? Too bad. But, well, sure, I could go for a ride. Thank you."

He grinned back, a spark of sincerity lighting up his dark eyes.

"Don't mention it. Let's get out of this crummy weather."

[elderwisp]

hey wisp! I always adored the way your edits looks especially the little stars-sprinkles-camera feel layers you chooses!

so Im wondering what do you usually google to search for that kinda stuff???

hai :D thank you friend! :3 i typically will look up film frame/star bokeh overlay and i'll scour the internet until i find some. i'll usually check places like pinterest, google images, devianart HOWEVER i decided to put together something for this ask. sometimes (most of the times lmao) a lot of these textures are paywalled and that's a bit annoying SO i've uploaded a majority of the textures i use! i organized them into three categories and that's bokeh, film scratches and borders! i'll also included a mini tut under the cut because genuinely when i first started using textures, i uh, had no idea how do use them lil guys so maybe this might help someone :D

ᯓ☆ Texture Pack Download: SFS

mini tutorial underneath:

after copying, pasting and resizing the texture file onto the photo i'm editing, for film textures with a mostly black background that aren't transparent, i'll hop into layers and change it to lighten. i find that this keeps the detail whist not causing you to loose clarity in a photo! i usually set opacity to 50% but that's just a preference! i always suggest to mess around with layer styles u never know what u might find:

as for bokehs or light leaks, i'll usually use lighten but i recently discovered that linear dodge creates a glowy effect bery cool! thought i might share:

as for the frames i included, most are transparent, i included some like the very first photo that could look sick layered over a photo. some have a white non-transparent center such as the one pictured but i'll typically erase it or try out the multiply layer:

[allmannerofmalady]

In continuation of my clownery, I started a new DATV playthrough because my beloved Inquisitor looked so jarring I had to remake her and replay like 20 hours of the game. But hey, I made peace with the fact that I am playing DATV to wrap up Inquisition and get an ending scene at this point, I'm not currently foreseeing a second playthrough, so I gotta do it right, y'know?

Spoilers, and me complaining at extreme length, yet again, about my own personal expectations vs reality into the void. Please ignore if DATV negativity is something you prefer to stay away from, protect your peace & what you enjoy.

So I replay HOURS. I'm having fun killing everything as fast as I can - I don't know what it is about playing as a rogue in this game that has tickled my ADHD brain so much, but I'm surprisingly really good at the arrow bonanza and relentless enemy aggro?! This turn based bitch? I digress.

I see my bb Inquisitor Lavellan - she still doesn't look like herself, but I can live with it. She got some ill-advised fillers in Tevinter, she's been through a lot, let her LIVE.

This time around my strategy is pure lore hunting. I'm getting every codex, I'm SQUEEZING this playthrough for whatever lore/easter eggs I can get because idk if I'm going to play again. I got all of Solas' murals early on, got Mythal's essence before Weisshaupt even, I think. BUT WAIT! I have one more treat! The locked room in the Lighthouse! Solas' study! There must be something juicy for all the effort, right? RIGHT? :'D

I know it's been beaten to death, but PERSONALLY, the game still feels incredibly flat to me, jarringly so. If I'm in the Dreadwolf's home, I want to snoop. I want Rook to look through his library, his books, his garbage bin. I even remember the devs saying they wanted being in the Lighthouse to feel an old friends house, or something? I could be wrong, my brain is fried. It's not just a Solas thing - I'm playing this game because I'm desperate for info about the characters I love, but as Rook, we are IN Solas' HQ and I want to rip open the floorboards. I'm trying to RP as much as I can RP in this G.

Anyway, I was so thirsty for something more, something deeper than just these lovely environments I cant do much with, and notes on how Solas hoards raisins - so I collected the wisps and did all the things to unlock the second door in the Lighthouse, forever booboo the fool, thinking I would get some juicy content or something. Trying to stay positive.

No. NO. I got some gear, another empty room Rook has no comments on, and fine, some of Solas' observations on the anchor. It does seem to confirm he kept the Inquisitor’s arm aaaand I love him your honour.

Back to backflipping and shooting arrows in the air, and wanting to grab Emmrich by the beautiful lapels to shake him and ask about the Pentaghast family. Where's my WIFE --

On to the Weisshaupt mission, which was actually ridiculously fun to play - until I was told Weisshaupt is gone haha wow great love that at least the Inquisitor & gang are keeping Southern Thedas safe *subtle foreshadowing* 😃🤞 weeee

I was SO MAD at myself for expecting more like the clown that I am, it was something dumb but just annoyed me all over again and got me all… opinionated 🫠

So, I'm mad again. I cannot begin to articulate my feelings about the incredible amount of storylines and lore we've lost with the decisions made in DATV's writing - they've already been written so eloquently by much greater minds than myself. SO I'm just laughing my way through the pain 🤡

People pleaser that I am, I see other creators I've followed and loved for ages defend the game's choices, tell others they lack media literacy, that your criticisms mean you have rose tinted glasses about the previous games - whatever, your opinion can be valid without tearing others down. So, I genuinely thought something was wrong with me for being so hung up on details. But I can't even engage in fan theories anymore because I'm so jaded at this point. When I see new deep dives into lore-based theories on the game, 99% of the time my mind goes "There is no deeper meaning. They just wanted to wrap it up." Why do you think this thing happened? What do you think that thing is hinting? Nothing. And this is coming from someone who played all the games, owns all the novels, art books, World of Thedas I and II, the bloody Inquisitor lamp from the BioWare store LOL, I was primed and ready to engage in these conversations, but I can't. I have nothing to say that won't end in a cynical answer, and maybe that's because I'm also jaded by working in the game-adjacent VFX industry.

The factions are, yet again, fun but shallow, the logic confusing, and lack much of a backstory for Rook (I think Grey Wardens and Mourn Watchers seem to be the best developed from other reviews and playthroughs, I've only played extensively as a Shadow Dragon, to be fair). Why are you a mage in this one faction? Why are you a rogue in another when it doesn't make sense without a story to support it? It's all this beautiful candy floss that melts away the minute I stop and think about it. And then the cynic in me thinks - these are probably vestiges of the live service part of the game that EA was pushing for. I have to slap myself and stop looking for deeper meaning within corporate decisionsssss there is no swimming pool behind that closed door you needed 7 wisps for 😃

I desperately did not want this to be the case. I was hyped. I preordered the game and organized vacation around it, I'm too old and dealing with way too many crappy personal things to just be a hater for the sake of being a hater. Gaming and Dragon Age are my comfort spaces. But for the LIFE of me, I can't imagine playing DATV again once I finish, let alone more times than I can count like the previous games. Or imagine listening to 4 hours of Youtube videos of party banter to analyze, or even imagine how companions would react to certain things because they feel so stiff. Everything is beautiful, but sterile.

I do love Emmrich - I'm enjoying his storyline and romance, it's like the loveliest most whimsical Vincent Price Pixar romance, but still, something is always missing with the characters even as some do grow on me. I can't imagine anything close to just the party banter ALONE between Solas and Iron Bull. Cole. Fenris and Anders. And to be clear - the whole DA was GRITTY and DARK, DAO supremacy - NOT ME. I love all the games but they have always been whimsical and silly, cringey at times, and did not take themselves seriously. I remember doing the quest where Hawke is running around trying to keep Aveline's date with Donnic from going south, cracking up at how ridiculous it was, and just thinking - gods I LOVE this game.

Speaking of romance, while I'm enjoying how sweet the romance with Emmrich is, when I see others complaining about lack of spice... ahem. I still cannot get over the art style when it comes to characters. This is subjective, and a me problem - I still find it jarring. I don't like the proportions, the bloom, how smooth everyone looks. They still mostly look like cartoons to me, with no body hair and the big heads, and I find everyone's hands so distracting because they look like plasticine. I'm ok with no spice between these characters with their current designs lol let me leave it at that. Ok, except for Felassan and Solas, chef's kiss, no notes.

Solas and story elements directly around him still mostly hold the familiar weight, for the most part. I think credit goes to his amazing VA and the strength of what was likely written for his arc from the very start, before the rewrites and dev hell the game went through. I still have opinions, obviously, but even as a ride or die Solavellan I don't like having the Solavellan angle hijack conversations, so I'm not going to go there. If I'm going to criticize stuff I'll do it as a gamer/DA fan first, egg lover and apologist second.

As I reach the end of Act 2, the game continues to makes me feel like I'm stripped of all agency after a lifetime of playing choice-based games. I talk to companions when it allows me to, then they are relegated to set dressing. My conversation choices all feel the same, or don't match what I'm choosing sometimes. The Lighthouse does not feel like the vibrant hub it was sold as. I am on quests I mostly cannot accept or reject. I cannot interact with my surroundings unless it is gameified (light a candle, move a crystal). The companions abilities are all just - platforming? I know I sound hyperbolic, but it's all I can see currently.

I played Persona 5 from end to end, twice. I played FFXVI. I loved both, had no issues with their linear storytelling, and how the game led you to their end points. Those games are not DA, they did not have the expectations you would have from a BioWare title 10 years in the making. You were not lured in by tales of an incredible character creator, teased about what might be coming from previous games, told this was a sequel to an immersive fantasy RPG series in a beloved fantasy world where the defining studio mechanic was CHOICES MATTER, even when they changed a lot of other things from title to title. In P5/FFXVI you were Clive, you were Joker, you were playing out their story. They were not direct sequels to anything. I'm loathe to be seen as a mindless critic who just wants to shit on things, but a part of me does feel emotionally manipulated for $$$. I still resent how much hype was built for the game by maligning the previous ones (we're fixing Inquisition's mistakes!!).

I'm back to my mission of finishing the game I paid for, enjoy what I can, and get my Solavellan ending scene cause I'm down BAD for literally the only ship I have ever shipped🧍🏻‍♀️I appreciate that it was included. But also - wow does it exacerbate what wasn't included for everyone else's choices.

Something I hate is how everyone immediately jumped on the Baldur's Gate 3 comparisons - BG3 was a life changing game for me, but it's not perfect, and the comparisons are not fair. The one thing I will say is that when I first played BG3, despite its issues and the later criticisms of how Larian reacted to pressure from fans, I remember my earliest impression was - it feels good to be respected as a player. I didn't feel the game was talking down to me, and I got SO much for what I paid for (700 hours baybeee). Jaheira and Minsc were included as companions in homage to the previous games. Yes, they did Viconia dirty, nothing is perfect - but for example, Jaheira would tell you about her husband Khalid from the original games, which came out in 1998 and 2000. There was a lot of world building/easter eggs that not everyone was familiar with or even noticed, because not every player played BG1 and 2, or were familiar with DND 5e - but it was included. Drizzt Do’urden was mentioned ffs, they didn’t overthink about who read those books or not. I’m aware of my biases and I may very well be looking through rose tinted glasses, but I did not feel like the information was presented like I was dumb, or "ah they'll never understand this - SCRAP IT". It just feels like it’s there to honour the past and out of love for the world Larian were playing in.

—> edit to say that I do notice and enjoy the codex entries, callbacks to Tevinter Nights, Masked Empire, the older games. I wish that care and detail was woven into the main story and overall end product and not just background fluff. I know others are satisfied with those additions, wish that were me. I saw a tweet saying that every callback to a previous game or storyline actually pissed them off even more lol, I relate.

I don't feel that respect for the player in DATV, I'm sorry. There is love there, but as hard as I try, it feels like it's there despite of the overall design of the game, not part of it. I keep remembering interviews before the game was released and things that were promised, and I don't see it. At all. No more meaningless fetch quests!! Most companion-focused game! The quests are largely boring or formulaic, but addictive and fun because they are so packed with mindless combat that my brain enjoys. Sometimes it feels like filler - we didn't know what to add here, FIGHT! You unlocked a poignantly named gate in the Crossroads? NO STORY MORE FIGHT! And I'm eating it up, let me not be a hypocrite, I have 80 hours in the game. But personally, it feels designed to pad out this beautiful, sometimes fun, but bitterly shallow game. I can't even go into companion specifics because I have nothing to say, no story I want to analyze. Some have grown on me, but there is no bite or nuance to the writing that compels me and I have no urge to know more. In the previous DA games I would take the long route wherever I went just to get more banter from my companions, and I was instantly interested in them, even if I disliked them. I've seen the comments, I tried, I don't think it's because "I haven't spent enough time" with the DATV companions.

The level design of long narrow corridors, which do remind me of DA2 and FFXVI, has become so predictable to me that I almost always know exactly where I'm going to find loot. So it becomes this admittedly satisfying run of grabbing and fighting to the end point, getting the dopamine hits of collecting pointless stuff, but not really taking in the environments and enjoying the adventure. The level design is not immersive. These do not feel like real cities or real people, and that was intentional. It feels like “levels”, not a World. No one reacts to a single thing you do. Even in the ultra minimalist style of Zelda BOTW, townspeople would react to things you did. Sometimes I walk up to yet another obvious fight arena where the enemies are just chilling, waiting for me while standing still - almost like they're on shift at a haunted house LOL. I can imagine the Venatori stubbing out a cigarette, "C'mon guys, she's here, showtime". The funny part is this has all been seen before in older games, and it never bothered me. My own expectations and overhype might be to blame, but it feels like a big step back when so many games are stepping forward. Me = clown

I keep going back to my first reaction when the disappointment hit me. It feels like being given Persona 5 Strikers or Hyrule Warriors, and told that it's the sequel to the actual RPG. It's fun, it wears the skin of the thing you like that makes you happy, but stops there.

Other things I shake my fist at

Cheap ass The 6th Sense ass Varric death. Yes, yes, Solas villain arc whatever - it was cheap. Way to honour a multi-game beloved character and the player, even if the time had come for him to die in the story.

No, I cannot find a single redeeming reaction from a companion that makes Varric dying make sense in hindsight, except that they are all made of cardboard. I saw comments saying on a second playthrough it's clear Harding is in mourning - sorry, I don't see it.

So. Dorian, the Inquisitor, Charter, Harding, your party, Maevaris, Isabella, list goes on - not a single one of them asks about Varric or mentions his death? Expresses condolences? Nothing? Cheap. Even if Solas was playing with your mind, doesn't it make the overall characters in the game seem even more wooden and unrealistic to the player? It was not the gotcha they seem to think it is.

When the novelty of the cameos and the emotion associated wore off, they were just flat and felt random. Cassandra should have been there, doing Seeker shit (my WIFE). Ok no cameo? Casual dialogue with Emmrich about having a Nevarran in the Inquisition (or as the Divine?!) Lucanis info dumping about Josephine as an Antivan, Zevran as a Crow, nvm, time for a coffee joke. Merrill, eluvian queen, how is she a nonentity? Habibi Fenris should have been in the Shadow Dragons, spitting on the ground after being approached by Solas to join his uprising (lol what uprising amirite). Ok I'm cooking hire me Bioware 🍳 but at least they can remain untainted by the Isabella Treatment (tm)

This leads into the yeeting of the Keep, world states, choices, and hypocrisy around claiming to want to level the playing field for new players. No, all I can see is - it was treated as a buffet that they picked from as it suited. This is the one disappointment I will never let go of. Facsimile's of beloved character cameos were tossed in, you could not really talk to them outside of what limited dialogue you were allowed. Certain world states are now canon apparently - Dorian being recruited in the Inquisition, Morrigan drinking from the Well etc. You want a reboot and you've committed to tossing the choices and burning down Thedas (literally)? Go down with GLORY! Have all the previous main characters/companions alive. Have them all mentioned, even in passing. A portrait on a wall. Say goodbye to them, get your reboot. Honour what you built your business on. But yeah, Emmrich and Harding get to have their picnic in Fereldan fml bye

The argument of: well, the games are old now, it shouldn't matter. Ah - not too old to capitalize on the IP and DA name? Not too old to use some cameos to lure old players? The argument of - it was too many choices to track. Ok cut them down, but don't go scorched earth? 3 choices, mostly irrelevant to those who don't care about Solas (could never be me), and then literally telling you everything else in the South and Weisshaupt is now razed to the ground. But also the illuminati did everything.

FINALLY - the Inquisition should have been in charge of the hunt for Solas, hill I will die on. Fine, have Rook, but Inquisitor should have been the other protagonist. The people... who knew Solas best and betrayed by him... who were in an organization to save the world... Why did we have that cunty dagger stabbed into the map of Tevinter cliffhanger to have the Inquisitor reduced to a pyjama wearing husk BIOWAAAAAAAARE

It's this stuff that builds up, and makes me think - does this game hate its fanbase and source material that much? I very obviously need to go touch some grass 🤠

I keep engaging with Reddit, Tumblr, Twitter - all to my detriment because it makes me feel like there's something wrong with me for not loving it, all over again. I also desperately have a fic in me I would love to write, an ode to the story in my head from years of loving the world of Thedas, a love letter to my Lavellan and others - but idk what to do with the post-DATV world atp. I just want to get through Act 2/3, get my Solavellan smooch, ignore the ~secret Illuminati ending, and be grateful I'm not a Mass Effect fan so I don't have to go through this again 🐣

[noobsomeexagerjunk]

hey SoulFire enjoyers, petition to give our cubitos winter coats and cloaks made out of actual fire?

tubbo is literally in snowchester 2: international limbo, bbh and tina would get more demony, missa would be giving skull rider crossed with disney hades, and just the thought of pierre's literal machinery crackling with blazing blue electricity is just AHHHHHH :D >:D

everyone else would slay so much with funky coats and flame trails, the sight of lamps hanging on buckles and leather, furs that dance against the cold like wisps! soulfire blue is an unnatural blue, and they will all look so fucking otherworldly (bonus points if they're actually cursed)

[maehwajuuuu-chu]

[Seiren • Starsilver Sparrow]

“Eula, how would you feel if I suddenly get amnesia, hm? You know like Vetur finally having enough of me and shoving me off the balcony—" “Sister, Sir Meier would have a stroke if he were listening to our conversation,” Eula briskly piped in, lowering her chipped teacup with a delicate clink before shooting an eagle-like glare at her older sister. “However, more importantly why would you suggest such wretched events? Is Vetur being bothersome, once again? I thought he had become responsible and stopped after I had made him slip on his own clothes—MMF.” The older sister groaned, plucking another biscuit from the tray and warningly held it up to the younger’s girl’s indignant glower as she menacingly munched.

“It’s only hypothetical, you funny little lemon. I’ll get a mirror - you’re all blown up like an angry pufferfish.” She tapped the biscuit against Eula’s scrunched up nose and slowly pushed it into her mouth. “Keep this up and you’ll only get porridge for the next week, you hear me?” - - -

Pain rattled through her gritted teeth as a gloved fist yanked her up by her knotted hair. Smouldering eyes of glowing coal glowered down resentfully at her behind a cracked mask, with the distant groaning curses of fallen Fatui heard in the background as they attempted to crawl out from pieces of rubble and jutting stalagmites of golden creedite.

“What the hell is this?”

She smirked, blood smudged across her battered lips. Past the shattered frame of the tavern’s window, the hilt of the scythe glinted in the flickering broken light and Adrik’s hand curled over its blade in a last futile attempt.

How bloody damn hilarious.

“Hey! What are you gawking at?” The agent jerked onto her hair, his fire-water tinged breath spewing against her face, “Damn it, are you deaf?! Listen to me, you knight fool!!”

Blunt spikes dug into her cheek as a gauntlet slammed against her face. She spat out a hoarse curse, blood spattering from her lips and she venomously fixed a glare at the bloodless grin. Knees immediately slammed to the rocky ground, as the agent dropped her to the ground. Gloved fingers reached to peel away the draped bloodied locks of hair from her face, crooked teeth stretched.

“Now, I can see my punching bag a bit more clearly.” He leered, flicking a strand of copper with deep chuckle rumbling from his throat, “Oh! Look at this blood - So young and vibrant!”

Acrid burning crawled up her throat, eyes dilated in trembling rage. She smacked away the lingering touches, letting wisps of hair tear out from her bloodied hairline.

“Get ya damn mitts out of my hair.” she hissed out, defiance sharply flashing across her glower, “And just get this over and done with, you bastard.” The agent coughed out a surprised laugh, flexing the stained brass reinforcers with eager clicks. He stepped back as he pulled the flask from his jacket and popped its lid off, swinging its contents down his mouth. He wound in his fingers into an anticipating fist while he drew it back. Bracing for the impact, she closed her eyes as she tightly held her vision in her bleeding hand.

“I’d rather die remembering the lifetime we spent together, than not recognise your face when I see you again.” - - - YIPPEEE finally was able to finish this phew. Anyways say hello to Seiren, my chaotic little limb-hogging treasure hoarder! She's one of my older guys, she's been in my brain since 2022! She's one of Rai's old friends and I can't wait to yap about her, about her wife and about her daughter, and also yap about the whole Aster's Oath. She's one of the characters who are highly important to the main storyline! (Yes I did look at the genshin treasure hoarders and went what if murderous lesbean. and yes that is how she was birthed) Ok lols I'll stop rambling, but please keep an eye out for her in future stuff! :D

-> Got the drip marketing background from @/chie_zuu on twitter!

[saturninelove]

Ghostface’s Obsession pt 2

(NSFW) 18+ Minors DNI:

Someone asked for a part two so: A continuation of Mr. Ghostface. Warnings: Fem reader, Suggestive language, pet names, smut, slight knifeplay. (Words: 2825)

~~~~~~~~~~

None of the other survivors really spoke of the last trial once you all sat back down at the campfire to discuss strategies and weaknesses. Claudette assumed you had once again gone on one of your “crazy chases” with the masked killer, offering praise to you as you had easily come back in one piece. You found yourself almost eager to be placed into the next trial, your fingers drumming along your thigh as the others spoke amongst themselves. Once the flames puffed out that dreadful black fog, you found yourself fidgeting in your seat as butterflies hammered against your chest. You’d never been this excited for anything, especially not one of the entity’s grand schemes. Once the fog had cleared, you found yourself standing amid the empty wasteland better known as the Eyrie of Crows. Mere seconds into the trial, you heard a rushing noise as well as a mutated squelch. Your heart sank a little in your chest, squeezing a little in sadness as you realized it would not be your newfound masked friend. 

It had been almost a dozen trials since then and each time that fog lifted, your hope dwindled down more and more. This time as you sat back onto your comfortable spot around the fire, you nestled your chin into the palm of your hand in a slight pout. Your other hand was dragging a stick through the dirt, moving rocks and pebbles aside as you wallowed in your own boredom and longing for something that you knew was insanely wrong. That familiar pit in your stomach grew as the wisps of fog licked at the soles of your shoes, slowly wrapping around both of your legs before enveloping your whole body. In the blink of an eye, the unsightly vision of Badham Preschool filled every bit of your line of sight. You didn’t linger in one place for long, quickly shuffling through the back entrance of the school and making your way down and into the basement where you knew a generator was always waiting patiently for you. You picked the open side that was underneath the stairs and kept your ears trained to the stairs behind you to listen for any footsteps in case it happened to be the famed Michael Meyers or perhaps the elusive Wraith. After a good minute of cranking levers and crossing wires, you realized you hadn’t heard any of your teammates engage in any kind of danger, no screams of pain or distraught. You grew a little more worried as the generator grew louder in volume and you couldn’t hear as clearly as before but you continued to cast backwards glances at the stairwell. 

What you hadn’t prepared for was the occupant of all of your wild dreams as of late to come up directly behind you from the hallway opposite of the generator, scaring you enough to jam one of the cogs that was trying so hard to move. Cutting off your surprised gasp, the one and only Ghostface pressed the blade of his knife flat against your cheek as he forced you to look back and into that daunting mask. “Hey dollface.” He smoothed the words out, the grin heard through his voice as he pulled your hips back and flush to his body, pressing his slight bulge up against your rear as you pulled you away from the machinery. 

“D-Danny!” You exclaimed, your tone supposed to be surprised and scared but you couldn’t even deny how excited you sounded and the way your heart was racing. Your mind flooded with the way he treated you the first time you two had met and the dreams that had invaded your mind since. The chuckle that resonated from his chest had you blushing, the coolness of the dagger was a nice contrast to the heat of your skin and you found yourself not hating the feeling of it. 

“Miss me?” He replied cockily, wrapping his arm around your midriff as he hoisted you over and to the adjacent section of the basement where a convenient mattress sat on the ground. You gave an innocent nod as you pressed your back against the brick wall, your eyes trailing his cloaked figure as you bit your lip shyly. “Didn’t I warn you once already?” He rasped quietly as though he was a tortured man, a groan following as he stepped closer and let his hands wander and grope at your hips and ass, grabbing overflowing handfuls as he leaned over you.

“Sorry, I can’t help it.” You murmured, closing your eyes and tilting your head back to let out a breathy gasp. He took this advantage to slip his mask up enough to show his jaw and cheeks as he snuck his way in and pressed his hot mouth against the skin of your neck, earning a surprised moan from your already parted lips. “Danny?” You asked, the lust already clouding your brain as you opened your eyes to try and look down at his mysterious face.

“Keep those eyes closed, sweetheart. I wouldn’t want to have to gouge out those pretty little things.” He threatened but his words were empty and you could feel the smirk on his lips as he continued to assault your skin, his mouth quickly moving down your chest as he lifted at the hem of your thin tank top, eager to undress you. You tilt your head back again and move your arms to help tug the thin material from your body, revealing your naked torso to his eyes. With a barely stifled groan that rippled along your skin, he bent his head further and tongued at your right nipple, taking the stiff peak between his teeth and rolling it gently just to hear the way you’d cry out. You rested your head against the wall as you released lewd noises, your eyes closed as your hands settled onto his shoulders, pulling him closer. 

“Atta girl.” He’d praise, the words muffled as he chuckled. He shifted his head to the other side as his mouth unleashed the same painful pleasure onto your neglected breast, one of his hands took the place of his mouth, pinching and pulling lightly on your nipple to match his teeth and tongue. His other hand was impatiently pushing your athletic sweatpants down your hips, groaning in satisfaction when they finally pushed down your thighs. 

“Danny, please.” You asked softly, unsure exactly of what you were asking. You were itching to glance down at his face and see what murderous man was hidden behind the mask, but you also knew the secrecy of it all added to how wet you got when you thought of him. Your lack of continuation causes him to chuckle again, the rumble of it only causing more slick to coat the insides of your thighs. 

“Use your words, pretty girl.” His voice is so low and raspy and it makes you want to melt into a puddle at his feet. Your knees buckle a little at the thought, to which he catches you without missing a beat and lowers you down until your back is flat onto the mattress and your hair pools out around your head. Your eyes are barely open and you get a glance at the face that had been haunting your dreams for weeks. A sharp jawline, a set of full pink lips, a strangely attractive Adam's apple, and a set of cheeky dimples stared back at you. You were awestruck and as you audibly gulped, his smirk only widened into a full-blown shit eating grin. “Or don’t.” He replied smugly, showing off even his pearly whites. You let out an uncontainable whimper at the thought of those teeth sinking into any and all of your flesh. He took this moment of you being rendered stunned and useless to push his way between your knees, spreading your thighs apart as he gazed down at you lazily, his mask still covering everything from his nose up. You slapped your hand over your mouth to catch the moan as his gloved finger easily slid up and down your soaked slit, gathering a generous amount of your arousal as he coated two fingers, pushing them inside of you without warning. 

“Danny!” You cried out, gasping as you bit down onto your palm, eyes wide. His lips curled into a playful smirk as he plowed those two fingers in and out of your wet sex at a dizzying pace, his own tongue running over his bottom lip as he stared down at you. You were melting slowly, coming apart at the seams at the way he was devoting every ounce of his attention to you. You looked up and at the brick wall behind you as you moaned softly, your thighs spreading more as you pushed your hips up into him to take his digits fully. One of your hands moved up to your own breasts as you groped and pinched lightly at your own nipples, biting your lip from the stimulation. You heard some faint rustling and then what sounded like a soft ‘click’. 

“Dollface, you camera shy?” He hinted, his voice low and husky as his fingers slowed from their intense pace. You looked up, eyes wide. Just those words made you clench around his fingers tight and that blush found its way back onto your cheeks. He grinned even wider as he snapped another picture, this time you saw the flash. “I want to make a whole collection, sweetheart.” He mused, stooping down and pressing a hot kiss to your lower stomach as he flattened himself mostly off of the mattress and between your thighs, the mask staring up at you as you felt his mouth slip lower, a trail of messy, wet kisses leading him straight to your needy sex. You arched your back and writhed up against him, whimpering softly.

“Please, Danny! I need to feel something, anything.” You begged, your mind so boggled with the lust you’d mustered up over the last several days.

“Anything?” The question came out more like a taunt and your mind flashed images of the knife but before you could respond or express your fears, the sensation of his hot tongue ran along your already drenched lips. You gasped in excitement, arching yourself further and pushing your tits into the air as your thighs wrapped around his head, squeezing tightly in encouragement. You heard the faint click of his disposable camera but you didn’t care, you simply wanted to die on the spot. His tongue lapped at your juices with ease and a sense of finesse, lewd slurping noises filled the air of the room as Danny began the feast he had been dreaming about since their last encounter. He suckled onto your sensitive clit, chuckling against it as he pushed his two fingers back inside of you, curling them up and against that sensitive spot he knew you’d grow weak over. His free hand finally stretched up, setting the cold camera between your breast to free his hand, groping your other tit roughly as his tongue pushed into you, fucking you alongside his fingers. With a shaky hand, you grabbed the camera, jostling it around a bit before aiming it down and between your own legs shyly, only hesitating for a moment before pressing the button and hearing the little ‘click’. Danny’s groan was immediate and it rumbled through you, pulling a moan along with it. His efforts seemed to double as his fingers rubbed against your g-spot eagerly, his other hand moving down to rub his thumb over your clit, his nose bumping against it as well as his tongue explored your depths. Without being able to warn him or pull your body away at all, you felt yourself beginning to convulse, your hips rocking forward and up into his face, sufficiently humping at his mouth and nose as your orgasm pushed through your body. He rode your orgasm out without complaint, only groaning to himself in excitement as he gulped down everything you’d give him, his tongue searching your walls for more. You fell from your orgasmic high slowly, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your breathing tried to even out. “That’ll be my favorite.” He rumbled the words against your inner thigh, pressing a sickeningly sweet bite there. His hand stretched up to grab the camera, that smirk evident on his face as his mouth glistened just barely. The blush on your cheeks was intense and your gaze flicked down to the bulge that was straining his leathers.

“Can I please?” You asked softly, your eyes shifting from the mask to his bulge. His smirk morphed into a grin with wicked intent and for a second, you felt that spark of adrenaline run through your veins, hesitation flashing through your eyes.

“You thought I’d let you leave already?” He taunted, his fingers working deftly at the buckles of his shroud, plucking the leathers away to reveal his hardened, throbbing cock. You felt your saliva pool into your mouth and you swallowed roughly, squeezing your thighs together to try to stop the dull aching between your thighs. His hands settled onto either one of your knees, pushing them apart as he settled between your legs again, this time aligning his cock to the place you needed it the most. He leaned down to you, his face mere centimeters away as his breath fanned over your face. “Beg.” He pushed the word out, teasing your entrance with just the tip, making your eyes roll back impatiently as you pushed your hips up, letting out a satisfied moan when the tip slipped in. With a suppressed moan of his own, he gripped your hip with one hand, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave a bruise, the thought only encouraging another moan as your walls squeezed around the head of his cock. “Dollface.” He threatened, but his own words were weak and he was struggling to control himself.

“Please Danny, I want you to give me your cock, every inch.” You begged, your cheeks flushed and your entire body alive with desire. He didn’t even need to be asked twice, already satisfied with your short and sweet response. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groaned, his head dipping down to finally close the gap between your mouths, his tongue pushing into your mouth immediately as he took control. His hips sank down into you at the same moment, forcing the entirety of his cock into you with one harsh thrust. You cried out, the sound muffled by his own mouth dominating yours. Your walls squeezed around him and you gripped his shoulders roughly, your nails digging into his skin. The hand that held your hip shifted over just slightly as his middle and ring finger rubbed your clit in harsh, desperate circles. He pulled away from your mouth for just a moment to spit out the words, “Cum on my cock, pretty girl.” With all of the added stimulation, after only a few short thrusts, you found yourself creaming on his thick cock, your lips broke away from his to moan and cry out in pleasure, your walls spasming around his cock wildly as your orgasm traveled through you. You felt him erupt deep inside of you, the first few spurts were deep and you went dumbstruck at the feeling, but he pulled out and made sure to spill some of his load onto your lower stomach and thighs, the smirk on his lips was proof enough of how proud he was of his artwork. As if the entity itself had timed it, the sound of the exit gates filled the air. Your brows furrowed, wondering why this time it had taken so long compared to last time. 

Danny pulled his camera out again, smirking playfully as he snapped another picture of you lying spent with his cum on your body. “C’mon dollface.” He mused, his mood had elevated through the roof as he fastened his own leathers, his newest concern was making sure you made it safely out of the trial.He even helped you to find your tank top that he had accidentally thrown out of the room. Once you were properly dressed, he made a show of plucking you up and tossing you over his shoulder again, giving your ass a firm spank and heading up the stairs with you. You swore you saw movement down the hallway as Danny was carrying you up and away but you couldn’t be sure, nor could you tell him to turn around. He set you onto your feet at the opened exit gate, pulling you close as he gave you a kiss that was hot enough to fluster you all over again, giving you a hard spank as he ushered you out of the trial with the promise,  “You’re definitely not getting away from me.”

~~~~~~~~~~

[the0retically]

The Suckening #7 The Pulse of the City:

Just my thoughts, spoilers below :)

- Cumpire lore let’s go?????

- GOD THE INTRO EVERY TIME JUST SLAPS I LOVE IT

- “If you don’t call me the suckener, I’ll…KILL YOU!” Charlie pleaseeee

- Oh god the pheasant and the old people, I forgot about them

- “I think he feels guilty for not feeling guilty” shilo you’re so interesting

- “Oh? Still covered in blood” “are you just trying to make things worse?”

- Shilo please be safe, this officer isn’t good get out of there!!!! Prince Edward as the savior???? WHAT???? NO NO NO NO

- HE COLLAPSES?? Feigns unconsciousness???? Shilo please you’re alone with a follower of Edward twilight

- God fuck Edward twilight

- OH! The officer contacted Deacon though! That’s good

- DEACON ARE YOU PART OF EDWARDS THING??? NOOOO

- Deacon semi papa of shilo!! Wooo!!!!

- Arthur!!!!!!! Dude you don’t even know where the twins are uh oh

- But hey Arthur is able to follow the tracks of the bus!!

- Spirits touch????? Arthur????

- Ooooh the audio coming in from the fight is so well done

- HAHAHA ARTHUR PLEASE!!!!! “He’s pretty stoic but he looks horrified by what was said”

- They really just keep bullying Grizz to use spirits touch on the pheasant pleaseee

- “Something is Wrong with this pheasant, it’s not you, but something is Wrong”

- Oh god he takes the pheasant with him

- “I’m coming for you baby boy. Sorry about the other baby boy, but you’re in a sewer and I’m scared of sewers.” GRIZZ OH MY GOD

- “It’s all in a bad state deputy, but just close your eyes.” Deacon please do not hurt Shilo, he trusts you

- Arthur and Grefgore night in!

- Oh no, Grefgore please be ok

- “Hi…..my boy” “hi my boy! :D” oh I love them

- Grefgore don’t leave!!!!!!! The sun is about to rise!!

- Arthur???? You’re leaving?

- And hi to deacon?? Arthur?? 👀👀

- I love Grefgore he’s so fun. He’s just the most himbo someone can be

- What are they doing with the demons and the fangs?? This is So Strange

- “What are you wearing? Demon clothes?” “I’m naked, I wake up naked” “Oh God” HAH OH NO EMIZEL

- “Do you want to kill him? Cause that’ll kill him. ‘Nice cock man’ and you kick his head off” oh my god??

- Oh god Charlie this is a horrible image, “a twisted fashion studio” oh god, Charlie please this is horrifying

- “Their very demeanor scratches my brain” Grizz I’m with you but also Vex is terrifying

- “Do you want to be the guy on the table Grizz?” Oh no, ok but pop off Grizz good voice acting

- “I will be your mommy :)” oh god

- Charlie, Charlie please this now a for sure a horror campaign

- My eyes are just wide, WHAT ARE THEY CONSTRUCTING HUH???????

- Charlie is too good at being a deranged villain

- “He has had no reason to look for you, yeah, yeah he’s in his work right now” my stomach just fell, why is that so scary

- Like goodness Props to Charlie the suckening has me way more scared than bitb ever did, like I love and adore bitb so much and there were moments where I was terrified but there’s something about this that is so haunting. I can just see it in my head so clearly and it’s so freaky

- They never expect Emizel to come back!!

- Oh god but please emizel don’t die again already

- Love how Grizz is just simping for Vex because me too

- “They’re two dogs in me and they’re fucking” WILLIAM WISP IS THAT YOU??

- God I love how Grizz and bizly and just speaking as the ghouls during this fight Charlie is just like “…what?? What are you even saying right now”

- Emizel please just get out of there they’re both already your enemy you don’t need one to hate you more because then they’re going to target Your twin so PLEASE JUST LEAVE

- They’re just singing the climb now oh my god iconic

- Emizel just lying to Viv about how he’s a real boy and doesn’t burn in the sun “but we saw you burn” “it was an illusion, I’m a magician”

- “Vex have you-“ “YES I KNOW!” I love them, they’re fun

- “And you turn around away from her” emizel oh my god

- “You cannot use your twin name and not mean it” honestly based

- I ALMOST SPAT MY WATER OUT OH MY GOD “your name is shameashmai”

- “I’m not letting you guys do this again” “no I’m having all the fun in the world right now”

- DOES EMIZEL LOSE HIS RIBS???? OH GOD

- VEX IS FLESH AND VIV IS BONES????? HAUNTING SO SO SCARY

- “Enjoy the ribs, I’m gonna head out” “what do you mean you’re gonna head out??”

- “Can I prepare an action to kill myself?” “He hasn’t taken his glasses off yet so we’re still ok!” “It’s just me as a dm thinking about splitting the dice pool for movement and killing yourself” I’ve never laughed this hard holy shit “as soon as I see this thing I want to run and kill myself”

- “Bizly give me the scariest animal you can think of” “….peacock, no” “FUCK OFF!”

- PLEASE HE JUST KILLED HIMSELF IN FRONT OF THEM OH MY GOD?? AND HES BEEN NAKED THIS WHOLE TIME

- “One of mine or one of yours” sooooo Viv and Vex have some stake in the fangs and the demons, but what does that mean??

- SHILO TIME! Please be ok

- Why is shilo healed and ok, this isn’t real it can’t be, Charlie is too smiley right now, he sounds way too happy

- Fucking Edward twilight oh my god why is he like this

- THEYRE BLOOD BONDED????? OH NO I cannot believe this

- Grizz is just loving this encounter

- Why is this so sexual I hate this, Edward twilight please stop why are you crawling up the sheets to shilo???? This is so—I cannot

- Deacon! You’re here!

- God why is Edward like this, Charlie really just locks in as him it’s insane

- Oh god shilo has to tell Edward about emizel oh no

- Shilo tripped no!!

- The wallpaper is Edward in the phone oh my god

- I do love shilo and deacon’s relationship though, he seems to genuinely care for shilo and I just love them

- Back with Viv and Vex! Oh god

- Ok thank god he’s just leaving

- “William wisp mode” emizel cosplaying as William is so funny like Grizz called it, that’s exactly what he looks like

- GREFGORE FOUND SHILO!!!!!!!! AWWWWWW LETS GOOOOOO

- HE FOUND EMIZEL TOO!!

- I love Grefgore so much

- Arthur just left them? Ok the boys gotta find him

- What is happening to emizel and shilo? Why do they have pain? WHAT?? It’s the Edward twilight smoulder??? Huh??? Charlie WHAT?

- SOMETHING TWISTED IN LA?? What did Edward do?

- A full day good god

- Arthur’s just on a plane omg

- ITS AFFECTING ARTHUR TOO???

- Absolute bat shit episode I loved it

[bunnylouisegrimes]

Patrick Bateman NSFW Alphabet Headcanons

(A/N: Hey all! In between my work, I cooked this up to help me decompress, so I hope you all enjoy these smutty and kinky headcanons for everyone's favorite axe-wielding yuppie! ❤️😁����)

(Warnings: BDSM themes, Dominance and Submission, just general kink content mixed with fluff)

(I also tried to make this as gender neutral as I could, but please keep in mind I am a woman, and it can be hard not to discuss/include specifically female oriented things :P)

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

Patrick is hit or miss when it comes to aftercare, it is entirely based on who you are. If he doesn't see you of much value, don't expect much at all, other than just some money and (if you're lucky) a swat on the ass as he leads you out the door. But if you find yourself in a position where he actually does like you/love you/value you, consider yourself very lucky. His aftercare with you will consist of taking you with him to the bath or shower and scrubbing you both off, maybe even another round in there if he's horny enough. If you're both not up for a shower or bath, you can expect him to dominantly be cuddling with you, nipping at your neck and kissing it, maybe watching TV together, until you both fall asleep. 

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): 

Besides his muscles he loves to flex, Patrick’s favorite body part of his would have to be his dick. He is extremely proud of that thing. His favorite on his partner's would have to be the classic goodies: Tits, ass, and pussy. He often can't decide which is his favorite. If he had to pick one, it would be pussy because he can fuck almost any woman, no matter how small or big her tits are, no matter how flat or round her ass is. If she's pretty enough and he'll feel good enough, that's all that matters. If you're his true love, well… he'd choose your pussy because no matter what, he owns that thing once you're with him. 

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person): 

Patrick cums a lot, and he will cum anywhere. In you, on you, on your face, in between your tits, in your mouth…He loves seeing you full of his cum. He wants you to worship his sweet nectar… 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): 

The few times Patrick is submissive, it's when he's not only with someone he trusts enough, but it has to be extremely tender and loving. This secret will come to light with time and love. You have to be careful, though:  Teasing is one thing, but being too mean will earn you an extremely harsh punishment that will put you back in your place. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?): 

Patrick is full of experience. He lost his virginity probably at Phillips Exeter academy with a girl in his class that he liked. From then on, all throughout Harvard and into Manhattan, he completely lost count. If it's something sexual, chances are he's probably at least familiar with it if not already done it. He knows all of the weaknesses it takes to make a girl cry and melt under him. 

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual): 

Pat's favorite positions include doggy style, good old fashioned missionary, 69, prone bone, cowgirl, and anything that would involve the two of you being able to face a camera recording or the mirror to look at yourselves. 

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

Patrick is not really a fan of being goofy during sex. If you try, he'll make a cocky comment out of your joke and brag. He is pretty serious and wants to see you be in a complete submissive headspace worshiping him. 

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

Like most yuppie/preppy men, Patrick takes the time to trim/shave his body hair, including his pubes. At most, you will find small dark wisps of hair above his dick. 

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

Intimacy is considered a privilege with Patrick. If you are worthy enough to him, meaning you're more than just a fake person who's destined to be dead by the end of the night, Patrick can slowly but surely become more intimate with you. It will take time and patience, but as he opens up more and more, you will notice him become more and more intimate. It starts off small, such as more frequent kisses and tighter hugs, but then it will become little brushes in your hair, little nips in your ear, gifts that were bought for you for just being more than a pretty object that will look good on you. In his darkest moments, he might even draw you in his private planner filled with all his dark drawings, depicting you as an angel contrasting against the darkness.  Eventually he will work up to a point where he will be very intimate with you. Smothering you with kisses and tight, warm muscles-filled hugs and nuzzling against you, nipping at your neck, claiming you as his, telling you how beautiful you are and how much he loves you and you only, etc. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon): 

Patrick doesn't masterbate as often as you might think. Yeah, he watches porn (especially gore and/or lesbian porn) and jacks off to it, but buy and large, if Patrick's horny, he'll find a real person to fuck. He can pay for it easily and finds chronic masterbaters “loser virgins who can't get laid.” 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks): 

God, what kinks doesn't this man have? Definitely domination, bondage, knife play, choking, and biting to name the tamest. He's also open to daddy kink, somno (as in he fucks you while you're sleeping, rarely ever the other way around), piss (this is technically canon in the book since he saves girls’ panties who peed themselves in fear while he's torturing them “for later”), lactation, pregnancy/breeding kink (mostly after he's married to you and when he finally gets baby fever), public sex, voyerism, lesbians, blood…Sheesh, there's probably some I'm forgetting. This man is one horny and freaky bastard! 

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do): 

His apartment is an obvious one, but he also enjoys his summer home in the Hamptons, a fancy hotel room, and possibly even his office if he can get away with it. 

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

When you tease him with your body or comments (bouncing boobs, making suggestive comments, etc.), watching or looking at porn, doing coke, and fantasizing about murder. 

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

When you're mean and disrespectful to him in any way, shape, or form, especially in those rare moments of submissiveness. Seriously. If you want a way to piss Patrick off and have him put you in your place, be an asshole/bitch to him or try to hurt him. See what will happen. It won't end well for you. He also can't stand shit anything. While he might be open to being anally fingered, getting pegged is a whole other story that he’s not very open to. While he can tolerate it, he's not big on using condoms and much prefers to go either raw or do his “half an inch from the ejaculate” trick he did with Courtney. 

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

He's fine with giving or receiving. He loves his dick being sucked by you, he'll give you tips and tricks and show you how it should be done based on experience with previous girls. He's very talented at giving. He's eaten so much pussy, he knows all of the good spots and knows how it's done. 

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

Patrick tries to be slow and sensual…for the first few minutes or so. Then it becomes fast and rough. He can try in between to be slower, but he's just too impatient. The sensuality and passion is never gone though. 

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

He doesn't mind a quickie to help him deal with stress. One before work, after work, or even during work would be pretty nice to him, especially if he has a hard on that won't go away. 

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

Patrick can be pretty risky. He gets a thrill from risking being caught or putting you in a situation where your boundaries can be pushed at least somewhat. He's down to experiment with you so long as it's not one of his turnoffs. 

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

Patrick can damn near last an entire night. He can go several rounds with only short breaks in between. His record is seven rounds in one night, and the longest he’s lasted is three hours. What can I say? This man is a horny beast. 

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

He owns a few toys he saves for the prostitutes and escorts, but that doesn’t mean you can’t use them. He owns a dildo or two he likes you to use while you moan his name and think about him. He also has a vibrator or two he saves for when he wants you to pleasure yourself while thinking of him (using it on the go is entirely your choice). He doesn’t really use any sex toys himself; as mentioned before, if he’s going to do something, he’s going for the real thing. If you also count handcuffs and rope as toys, Patrick has you covered there. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): 

Patrick likes to tease you a lot. He will still reward you for good behavior, but he gets off on watching you cry and beg for him to grant you some form of release. He also likes teasing you about how desperate you are for him (ex, “Awww, look how desperate you are for me, baby…so horny for me and my big cock? Do you need me to fill your womb with my seed? Are you so needy for me? Who’s a good girl who worships me? You are!”). 

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

He mostly makes grunts groans with an occasional moan. He’s shockingly quiet and soft. Other than that, it’s a whole lot of wet slapping sounds and spanking. 

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

One of his absolute favorite fantasies is chasing you down like a serial killer/kidnapper and playing hide-and-seek with you, toying with you, making you think he doesn’t know where you are when he knows damn well where you are. When he finally catches you, he holds you down and does whatever he wants with you before taking you back home like you’re his little spoil or prize. Honestly, the fun with him might not stop even there… 

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

He’s pretty girthy and long; he’s not only thick, but he’s a little over six inches when erect. Be careful. 

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

His sex drive is pretty high. When this man doesn’t have money or murder on his brain, he’s got a whole lot of sex. 

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): 

He doesn’t fall asleep first because he wants to watch you fall asleep, but after you’re out and he’s done staring at you, watching you succumb to your body’s exhaustion, he’ll let his own take over and he’ll join you in pure bliss… 

[tai-janai]

Reunite

Something has gone wrong.

Path 1 - Control

(Chapter Select)

Voice of the Hero:

... Hey?

Voice of the Hero:

Are you alright? Are you... Are we alive?

Voice of the Hero:

Why is everything so quiet? ... Is this the cabin?

This is, indeed, a cabin that you are in. Which one, where, and when is all a little unclear.

Voice of the Hero:

He isn't here... Do you think the Princess is? This isn't like it's supposed to be... I... I think.

You look around. Usually things have to be explained, or else they aren't quite there. But you've been here before, haven't you?

There is an empty doorframe, and a table turned on its side. Something sits on the floor beside it; the echo of something you know is supposed to be there.

Voice of the Hero:

The blade... Right? We're supposed to... Slay... Uhh...

You were made to do something here. Maybe it's already been done. Maybe you were meant to do nothing.

Your body tenses in fear, struck with a sudden wave of anxiety.

Voice of the Hero:

Hey, hey, I can feel that. Don't think that way, it's already stressful enough without the negativity. Surely we're here for a reason... Why else would we be here?

With the voice's pull, you reach for the echo on the floor. It feels like nothing in your hand, but it makes your nerves respond like you're holding something.

Voice of the Hero:

It's something, at least.

Your attention turns to the doorway that leads to the basement. The back of your neck tingles with a strange sensation, like the opposite of the feeling of being watched.

Without a word, you feel the Voice urging you forward, supporting you along the way. Amongst the anxiety, you feel a wave of gratitude, knowing you aren't quite alone.

Voice of the Hero:

Whatever's next is down there, right?

"I'm scared."

Voice of the Hero:

... I'm not going to lie, that's a bit unlike you, but I feel like everything's going to be okay. I think we're supposed to do this.

You gaze into the empty doorframe. It seems like only darkness lies beyond it, but after a moment of your eyes adjusting, vague outlines of stairs flicker in the corners of your view. They aren't there if you focus on them, always showing themselves just beyond your vision.

You step down onto the first stair. Your body responds like it has stepped on something, but your feet don't feel it. After a few seconds, they go numb, as if they can't keep up. You continue forward.

There are strings that give the impression of walls around you; blood-red lines of muscular tissue draped along invisible walls in uneven sprawls. Cobwebs in unseen corners made up of thin threads of skin.

As you descend, the sound of a heartbeat drifts upon your ears, along with the sound of breathing, and a deep gurgle.

Voice of the Hero:

Ok... This is gross. But I'm pretty sure this is all new. ... Is it weird I don't hate it?

"It isn't the worst," you answer the Voice.

Voice of the Hero:

Right? This doesn't feel like it's as bad as it could be. I... can't think of any other time we've done this, though...

The sounds of the heartbeat and breathing grow faster. Whosever they are, heard you.

Voice of the Hero:

D-did we scare them? It? I know we brought the thing thats supposed to be a knife, but that was more for our safety than anything.

You stumble as you reach the bottom of the "stairs," unable to discern the "floor" from them. A Being comes into view.

A single, wide eye stares at you. Two mouths, one under the eye and one on the chest, wince as you are seen. A third mouth on the Being's stomach whispers indiscernibly. There are wisps of protrusions that flutter atop the Being's head as if there were wind in this freakishly still room. There are six arms, not connected by any joints to the main "body," four of which are gripping individual bloody organs. The last two are tangled in a mess of red string, pulling it taught and loosening it absentmindedly, but anxiously. You notice its body is embedded in the floor; everything from the "waist" down is unseen, like the creature was unceremoniously stabbed into the ground.

Around the creature's neck is a familiar sight; A thick chain that attaches to a fleshy wall opposite to the entrance.

It leads you to take in the surrounding room. There are more red strings of muscular tissue hanging across the walls and ceiling, getting more concentrated on the further end. Your feet return from numbness as they feel a solid ground beneath them, the texture reminding you of cold skin. The air is oppressive, but strangely, not uncomfortable.

Voice of the Hero:

What is that thing?

As if it heard the Voice, the Being's eye widens.

You take a step forward.

NO!

The Being's mouths speak over each other. Its arms pull closer to itself, terrified.

Strings from the ceiling fall across your body, like a poor rope trap. They are damp to the touch, and make your skin crawl. It does nothing to physically stop you, but you choose to not get any closer.

After a moment, the Being beckons,

...You.

You say nothing, because it wasn't calling for you.

Voice of the Hero:

... Me?

Suddenly, the strings that fell on you pull taught, dragging you forward, only a few feet from the Being. With less distance, its size is evident as you are only as tall as the Being's chest. You can now hear the third mouth's whispering clearer as it chants a familiar series of organs. Why does it feel like you could chant along with it?

The two other mouths speak together.

Why are you trapped in there? Are you okay? I'll get you out.

Voice of the Hero:

What?

A blinding wave of pain races through you. All you see is white for a moment. It's as if you were struck by lightning.

The creature does as it promised.

When the pain subsides, your vision returns, and you see... you. The other you looks back.

The Hero:

Uh...

With the two of you separated, the Being uses the strings to pull you away. The two of you instinctively reach for each other.

"What..." You begin to ask, the word falling out of your mouth. You fear the answer to anything you could ask. The wet threads strain against your skin. You could cut them with the echo, but you aren't positive that struggling is the best idea.

The Hero:

Why did you do that?

The Other turns to the Being, scared and confused.

You were stuck to him. He is not like us.

He glances back at you.

The Hero:

But... That's me!

You fight uselessly against the tightening strings, reaching again for what once was you. You can no longer move your arms to cut yourself free. The Other grasps at the air in return, going to step forward, but stumbling. It may be you, but it was never in control of a body like this.

It's safe now, I have things under control. He had that knife.

The Hero:

W-we were going to help you. Free you, I think...

The single eye of the creature blinked. It looked down at itself: First, the chain around its neck. Then at where his body was embedded in the floor. The movement is slight, but its grip on the organs in its hands tightens. For a moment, there is only the sound of the heartbeat. Even the chanting stops.

It resumes as the Being replies,

I can't leave. Even if this chain could come off. I have to be here.

In a moment of gentleness, after a pause, the other you fully turns to the creature, placing a reassuring hand on the ones tangled in red nerves. The strings that bind you loosen minutely.

The two mouths that spoke are now just the one as the chest falls silent.

Everything is finally safe. He is there, and we are here.

The Hero:

Did he hurt you?

The Being cannot respond. It doesn't remember. It looks at you, and then it looks through you. Then its eye falls to the bloody strings in two of its hands.

I can't remember a time when I wasn't here, holding these. Keeping everything alive.

The Hero:

Do you want to leave?

No.

The Hero:

Do you think you should?

The creature is quiet again. Some strings enveloping you tighten, while others loosen.

It asks the other a question in a whisper, with something edging on excitement,

What is out there?

The Hero:

I'm not sure. Wouldn't it be nice to know?

It's as if the Being shrinks, now comparable in size to the Other. There is still fear, but there is excitement. Not only is it not alone, but it is promised freedom.

The Hero:

Will you let him let you out?

The single eye squints as it turns to look at you. It says to the Other, the chest-mouth joining in again,

Can't you do it instead?

The Other almost laughs.

The Hero:

I'm not the decisions-guy.

One by one, the vines of meat fall off of you. You take cautious steps towards the Being, the fear lessening, now that it is the same size as you.

You feel dangerous, the mouth on its chest tells you.

"I'm sorry," You tell it, and you are.

The Hero:

He's telling the truth, he's an awful liar.

Hold on, the Being stops you, holding out a hand that gripped a pinkish lump of muscle matter. You stop in your tracks.

Hold these for me, it says to the Other. The four hands holding the organs travel to him, dropping them into his outstretched arms as he grimaces. It sounds wet.

The Hero:

Uhhh yep. Yep, got 'em. Guh.

With four out of six of its hands free, the Being pushes against the ground, using them to lift itself out.

There is the sound of a struggle, then the skin-like texture of whatever the ground was made of, tears. It is loud and gruesome. The Being is fully disconnected from it, and there is no lower half of its body. Its severed midsection floats above the ground, only mildly reacting to what seemed incredibly painful. The loose skin floats in a ghostly manner. Where he was connected to the floor is now uncovered, revealing a shadowy, foggy cloud. You and the Other gawk at the display.

With a shaking sigh, its hands glide back to the other, and take the quivering organs from his arms. The chanting is barely a mumble. You refocus.

Okay, do what you need to do.

There was no trust in yourself, but it was placed in you. Any doubt in your mind clears. You know you can break the chains. You reach for them.

The creature's eye closes, and there is a flurry of feathers, closing in on it, and blinding you. You recoil. There is the sound of chains clinking. They have fallen to the ground. The feathers disperse, and the new figure of the Being is shaped.

It is something shaped like you. Similar to the Other, but altered. It has feathers that are thin from stress, and it has scales that have been picked at and scabbed from habit. It is familiar.

With two eyes now, it blinks at you, testing the waters of what they are now.

The Paranoid:

Oh. That's nice.

The Hero:

No more chains.

The Other smiles warmly, and the new one finds his own.

The Paranoid:

Okay. Sigh. I think I'm sick of being here. Let's... Let's go.

They pass you on unsteady legs, and you follow them to the foot of the stairs. They feel right, but you don't.

"Do you know anything about this?"

The new one stops and looks at you, and their eyebrows furrow.

The Paranoid:

I thought you would. You came to me, after all. I was just stuck in this basement for eternity.

The Hero:

Who put you here?

The new one winces, growing tense at the questioning.

The Paranoid:

You. Him. Something... Like him. I told you, it's been an eternity. I don't know anything. It's just been heart, lungs, liver, nerves, don't die, stay alive, everything's okay now, for as long as I can remember.

He grows more frustrated and afraid, visibly shaking. The Other attempts to soothe him.

The Hero:

Okay, okay, that's fine... Ah...

"I think we have to go."

The Paranoid:

That's what I was trying to do.

The Hero:

No, I... I know what you mean.

The Paranoid:

You're going to leave?

There is a stressed silence. What you have to do becomes clear. The new one doesn't want to be alone again. You hold the echo in your hand.

The Hero:

I'll do it. I'm... I'm not with you anymore, and, I don't want to mess anything up.

The Paranoid:

Sorry for that.

You extend the blade, hilt-first, and the Other takes it. He steps closer. There is barely a breath taken amongst you. You know you have to go.

The Paranoid:

Um. Thank you for freeing me.

He tries to smile for you. The Other gets a good hold on the blade - somehow, now, it seems more physical - and brings it into your heart. He winces, empathetic pain wetting his eyes.

This isn't the end, but the beginning. You will help others. You got him out, but there is more to do.

The Paranoid:

I hope you find what you need to.

Is this what you were brought here for?

You find that ironic as everything goes dark.

[dannyphannypack]

hey danny phandom. i gotta tell you about this. you need to hear about it. because what are the odds my two longest-lasting hyperfixations collide like this.

JRWI is an absurdly powerful D&D podcast starring Slimecicle, BizlyChannel, GrizzlyPlays, and Condifiction. They are currently running two TTRPGs: Riptide, which is set in a pirate-themed ocean world called Mana and run in D&D 5E, and Prime Defenders, a futuristic teen superhero campaign set in the world of Prime and run in Mutants & Masterminds. Riptide is their free campaign (located here), and Prime Defenders is their Patreon-exclusive campaign.

Why am I telling you this? Because Prime Defenders features a character named William Wisp, played by Charlie Slimecicle, who was loosely inspired by Danny Phantom. William’s hero name is the Wisperer, and he has ghost powers granted to him by the fact that he fell off a cliff and fucking died at the ripe age of 16 and because the will-o’-the-wisps have taken a liking to him. He even has a white-haired ghost form that he can switch into, even if he doesn’t like to do so.

And I’m also telling you this because who did the Game Master, BizlyChannel, call up for the season 2 finale to do a speech for William during his lowest point yet? David Kaufman himself. As Danny fucking Phantom.

[utilitycaster]

if you're looking for any reason to write and/or procrastinate, i'd love to hear your alluded-to thoughts on people trying to shove already-extant blorbos into a ttrpg space? it's something i've tried to Strongly Discourage (if not outright ban) at my table and i've struggled putting into words why i dislike it so much. like obviously as a dm doing homebrew world stuff it's super discouraging to feel like your players don't want to engage with it, but even beyond that it feels like it doesn't Work and i'd love to hear if you have thoughts on Why That Is

Absolutely! The biggest reason is in fact the one you say: it's really discouraging as a DM, who is doing a lot more work than anyone else, to have someone not want to build a character informed by your world. This is collaborative storytelling, and they are not collaborating. Which isn't to say that player's preferences for the type of story shouldn't be considered, but there is something very different between, for example, Erika Ishii saying "hey Brennan, I would love to play a witch" in a setting everyone in the cast committed to building collaboratively, vs. coming to your table as a DM saying "hey, this is a world I've created, it is inspired by Norse mythology" and saying "cool this is my weird west cowboy OC, why isn't there a cowboy class."

I think the other reason, and here's where I might be guessing, but I think people can get uniquely rigid and protective of pre-existing OCs. I mean...I had a vague set of OCs inspired by a lot of the fantasy stories I read as a kid for literal years, and setting aside that they don't fit in neatly to a D&D system anyway, the thought of playing one and having them die at level 2 against some will-o-the-wisps is really not something I'm open to! When it comes to a lot of the games that have character progression and start relatively weak, like D&D, most people are thinking of a cool powerful mage, not a squishy L1 wizard with 2 spell slots! I think people are precious and impatient and rigid about a lot of their OCs, so they won't take the big swings that you need to make in order to have a good time in a TTRPG because they're too afraid of losing the character before they reach their final form - and, they have a final form in mind that they might be reluctant to deviate from. Sure, some people can get past this; but many people can't. They already have too much of a story in mind and aren't open to the one being told together at the table. They won't kill their darlings and so they're going to freak out every time Darling has to make a death save.

Finally: I personally think character creation is necessarily collaborative, in that party composition is important. To give an example: I have an idea of an Eldritch Knight who learned her magic from the eccentric wizard she guarded, who then died in a locked room mystery, and she was exonerated but considered suspect (and also felt guilty) and so is in need of employment and could easily fall into adventuring. This is a pretty flexible concept in most D&D settings because a lot of the specifics aren't at all filled in. However: let's say my friend says "hey, um, one of our players had a family emergency and needs to leave our game long-term. Do you want to join?" and I say "yes, absolutely" and they say "great, they were playing a bard and were our only healer, though we do have a warlock who can be the party face," I should not play the eldritch knight with no healing! It is in fact my responsibility to roll up with, say, a cleric!

So that's really why: you can and should bring vague concepts you want to explore to a table, but you really shouldn't pick from a fully fleshed out OC because that doesn't engage with the setting nor what the party needs.

[philistiniphagottini]

I’m actually so nervous typing this rn it’s sad😭 this is literally my first ask and I FINALLY GOT THE FRIGGIN CURAGE TO ASK- AND YOU TOTALLY DONT HAVE TO DO THIS AT ALL😭 but If you don’t mind doing Dante from dmc for this ask? SO, I’m a big cryer, which is apart of my adhd, and sometimes I cut my hair when I’m upset, and I just kinda wanted to know how would he react to us just randomly crying over nothing or sorta realizing our hair is getting shorter and shorter whichever one you want. THIS SOUNDS SO WEIRD IM SORRY-

-💧(if this isn’t taken do you mind if I be this? I’m hoping to be a regular asker 😭)

Aww, I'm glad you got the courage to send in a request, I appreciate it :) And it doesn't sound weird at all, don't worry, you're doing fine :D Sure, I don't mind, choose whatever symbol you want. I'm happy to hear that you want to come back. Hope you enjoy~

cw. hurt/comfort

"Hey, did you get your hair cut again?"

Dante’s voice cut through the air, catching you by surprise as his voice raised over the soft music playing on the old jute box tucked in the corner of the Devil May Cry. The sudden question almost made you drop the fluffy duster you had been holding, a small cloud of dust kicking up when your foot abruptly collided with the bookshelf. You sputtered, waving your hand through the air to disperse the little cloud as the dust irritated your nose. You spun on your heel to face your boyfriend, catching his scrutinising gaze over the top of the magazine he was currently reading. He quirked an eyebrow in your direction, patiently waiting for you to compose yourself. You awkwardly cleared your throat.

"Why do you ask?" you responded with your own question.

Dante’s eyes narrowed as you were further scrutinised, his sharp gaze narrowed as his eyes roved up and down your body. Your eyes nervously flicked away, hands slowly constricting around the duster you were still holding as you dug your fingers into the fluffy material. Dante cocked his head to the side, a small noise bubbling at the back of his throat.

"It looks like your hair got shorter...again..." Dante murmured, his voice suddenly dropping and you almost missed what he had said.

Your nervous gaze flickered back to him. It was hard to supress the surprised look that painted your features. You were mildly shocked that Dante had even noticed. Due to his carefree and lackadaisical attitude, you had been fooled into thinking that the finer details usually went unnoticed by him. You had been, evidentially, proven wrong. Your fingers twitched as you reached for your hair, pinching a few locks and twisting the soft wisps between your digits.

"Does it look bad?" you questioned.

Dante immediately shook his head. "No, not at all."

A frown tugged at your lips; brow furrowed as you shot him a quizzical look. You opened your mouth to speak, but quickly closed it once more as Dante spoke once more.

"Is something wrong? Is everything okay?"

You opened your mouth but it quickly snapped shut as you swallowed the words back down your throat. Upon second thought, you weren’t exactly sure how to respond to his question. Part of you wanted to say yes, another part wanted to lie and say no; to tell him that everything was alright. And another part was still in disbelief that Dante was able to notice that something was bothering you. Were you that easy to read? Were your eyes still swollen and puffy? Had he noticed the frayed edges of hair that you had desperately tried to shear off with your crappy, plastic store-bought scissors as a way to cope with the sadness welling up inside of you?

You were struggling to articulate your thoughts and Dante could see the inner turmoil behind your eyes. If your brain started spinning any faster, he reckoned steam would start puffing out of your ears. With a small huff of effort, he pushed his chair out from his desk, heavy boots thudding against the wooden floorboards with a dramatic groan. He threw the magazine he had been reading to the side, swivelling his chair in your direction and turning to face you. He pat his knee, beckoning you to come closer to him with his other hand.

"Come, sit. Come over and tell me all about what’s been bothering you" he said.

He pat his knee once more, further trying to coax you to come and sit in his inviting lap. You could already feel the tears welling up behind your eyes as the duster in your hands clattered to the floor and you ran straight into Dante’s open arms. He grunted loudly as you fell into his lap, the chair squealing loudly in protest at your sudden weight. You clung to him desperately as a throaty chuckle breezed past his lips. You sniffled against the collar of his shirt, his warm breath tickling your cheek as you coiled your arms around his waist and squeezed him tight. He gently wound his arms around you, placing his hands on your back and running his fingers along the curve of your spine to soothe you. His hugs were always so warm; the scent of his cologne filling your lungs with each deep breath you took as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"Shh, it’s okay love. I’m here. Why don’t you tell me all about it, huh?"