#And be normal about this post to I do not have the mental fortitude to handle people yelling at me and I will turn of reblogs if I have to

[silentium-symphony]

Spoiled Rotten (Link x Reader) SMUT

(a/n) needed a break from now watch me whip, so here's some smut :) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

i didn’t really mean to make a sequel for Starved, it just kinda happened 💀 can def stand alone tho! i don't typically write a dominant reader, but i had a lot of fun trying smth new :) i hope you enjoy ♡

cw: afab!reader, mentioned somnophilia (like one line), swearing, nice and fluffy in the beginning, ya'll being absolute BRATS to each other oml, taking turns dominating the other :), link once again having the dirtiest mouth in the world, spreading you on all fours, riding link like the gorgeous stallion he is

wc: 5.8k

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Passerine warbles teased your consciousness from the lands of slumber to the realm of morning. A curtain of colors whisped behind your eyelids and you felt the warmth of the sunbeam conveniently placed on your eyes; cracking them open a smidgen spelled the death of your pupils as you were immediately blinded by its solar glory.

Your head lulled to the side, still very much weighted by sleep, and came face-to-face with your lightly snoring husband. His golden brows were pulled into a relaxed arch, no longer featuring a drawn, terse look. His cheeks, smushed into the pillow, slotted perfectly in your hand and you stroked them fondly. A soft moan left him and you could feel the little bits of tension in his jaw disappear completely. Looking further down, you saw his neck and chest littered with hickeys galore; your lips tingled hotly.

You lifted the arm that was dangled loosely over your waist with great care, gauging his expression for any hint of discomfort or arousal. You were genuinely shocked he didn't slug his arm over you and hug you tighter as he normally would. While setting his arm down in front of you, you saw bright red scratch marks running up and down his arms. Highlights of last night pervaded your mind and it took a considerable amount of mental fortitude to not start grinding against his bare member. Additionally, thinking about how he abused your cunt with his incessant pounding started to fill you up with post-orgasm sleepiness--not what you wanted when you were trying to get out of bed.

And he did all that right after he got back. Y'know... It makes sense why he'd be knocked out.

Your lips ghosted atop his twitching eyelids while you slinked out of bed and oNTO THE FLOOR OH SWEET HYLIA

A hand flew to the corner of your bedstand and you somehow managed to catch yourself before you ate shit. Link really diddly darn fucked you 'til your legs gave out, huh? Can't say you were complaining--

You hauled yourself up, your knees shivering and buckling from the arduous task of existing in an upright position. You scooted closer to your shared dresser, the smooth walls acting as support, and you slipped on one of Link's shirts. His scent wrapped around you comfortingly and was reminiscent of one of his hugs. There was also the added benefit of Link really liking you in his clothes--a fact you very much took advantage of.

With the wall still acting as your cane, you made the trepidatious trip to the kitchen.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

You balanced two plates of fried eggs and rice on a small wooden tray, complete with silverware, water, and two mug cakes! You managed to find the recipe haphazardly scribbled down on a random piece of parchment. You thought it looked delectable and hoped he thought the same.

You limped ambled your way to the bedroom and opened the old door as gingerly as possible.

Unluckily for you (and him, now that you thought about it), the wakeful tendencies stemming from the extreme sport of sleeping alone in the wilderness kicked in and his ears visibly twitched, disturbed by the softest sounds from across the room. He shuffled quickly and turned to you, his eyes still drooped with sleep.

"Mm... g'morn..." His nose quivered. "What smells so good...?"

"Breakfast!"

:O

:D

"Breakfast? In bed?" He could barely contain his excitement.

"Breakfast in bed!"

He sat up, propping and fluffing the pillows as you made your way over to him. He clapped and rubbed his hands in glee.

"Oh! Are those...?" The gears in Link's head buffered and churned.

"Mug cakes!" You set the tray down on his lap and saddled next to him.

"Mug cakes!!!" He returned your gleeful energy. "They look delicious, darling."

"Thank you, dear." You shoveled a fluffy mound of rice topped with an equally fluffy piece of egg in your mouth and sighed contently. He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek before dipping to your ear.

"Not as delicious as you though." He breathed, eyeing the plain white shirt hanging from your frame. You gasped at the sensation of heat tickling your neck and your palm connected with the backside of his head.

"Ow!" He pouted. "Unnecessary."

"J-Just eat the damn food!" Clearly flustered, you scraped more food into your mouth and promptly turned away from him. He laughed while smoothing out your bedhead before chowing down on the simple spread before him.

"How're you feeling? I'm sorry for being a bit... rough last night."

Good sir you almost broke my back and yours "a bit?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. "Okay, fine, but my question still stands--how're you feeling?"

"I'm all right! My... Legs were pretty weak this morning." You shrunk, feeling Link's ego swell. You could practically feel the smirk on his face.

"Were you okay climbing out of bed this morning? You didn't fall, did you?"

You were so thankful he couldn't see the imaginary sweat beading down your brow.

"Nope! All good!"

"Glad to hear it."

Your conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence as you both relished in each other's company and the food. While you finished up the main dish, Link dipped his spoon into the gooey mug cake and almost kicked his feet in childlike joy.

"This is amazing! It tastes just like your hugs!"

Your heart simultaneously fluttered and melted into one big goop.

"Heheh... And what, good sir, do my hugs taste like?"

"Hm..." He leaned in and glomped onto you. "Warm... Soft... Sweet..."

While you were basking in his warm embrace, you didn't notice the sly hand sneaking for the hem of your shirt. Warm digits traced up your torso and cusped your breasts; a pleasurable chill shuddered through you.

"Tantalizing..." He husked, lowering you onto your back. "Enchanting..."

He showered your neck with gentle pecks and retraced the bruises and nips he planted on your skin the night before. Your arms wrapped loosely around him, pulling him closer. You could feel his dick begin to throb with heat.

"Mm... Link..."

Guuuurgle...

Oh.

He pulled away from you, light, innocent giggles bouncing between the two of you.

"Let's take our time today, okay?"

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

After clearing breakfast and cuddling for an hour or so, you both finally got up and started your day. Link volunteered to wash the dirty dishes while you put away the... scattered clothes from last night. Tidying the room to your liking, you came down to meet your husband.

Whose got his lean, toned, battle-scarred back turned to you.

Your love marks from last night were due to join his never-ending collection of scars--at least for the coming weeks. A wicked smile crossed your lips and you stalked toward him, tiptoes feeling around the squeaky floorboards.

He soaped up the water some more and smiled at the bubbles that floated to his nose, humming a happy lil' tune, completely oblivious to your sinful intentions. As he dipped a plate into the soapy basin, arms wrapped around his torso and he felt something warm and soft trace his back and sides.

His next exhale caught in his throat and he sputtered... some type of exclamation. As quickly as it tensed, his sinewy muscles grew lax in your embrace, melting into your touch. He adored the way your mouth hungrily suctioned to his old scars and how divine it felt for your hands to caress him, rubbing soothing patterns into sore spots he never knew he had.

You worked your way up and brushed your lips along the still-fresh scratches on his shoulders. You painted them with tender, loving kisses as your hand drifted lower and lower...

"You're marked up so nicely for me..." Your fingers coasted the prominent bulge in his pants and he bit back a whine. "I'm going to have so much fun with you."

Hands spun his waist around and his eyes flew shut, fully expecting to feel your lips slam into his as you took him right then and there.

...?

Except... You didn't...?

His eyes cracked open to his beloved's absence, confounded. A bright, chirpy whistle had him swiveling his head for a double take and he saw you happily drying the dishes he washed. Like nothing happened.

"You okay, love?" You looked at him through your lashes. "You've got stars in your eyes."

Said eyes twitched.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

The sun was still high up in the sky when you finished torturing the poor man with your household chores. The door swung open; Link went out first, bucket and brush in hand, while you stayed at the door for just a moment longer. The open windows couldn't quite demonstrate the soul-cleansing power of the fresh winds and you relished the wind tugging through your hair. Your lungs expanded as much as they could, filling themselves with the scent of home-tinged wilderness, before breathing out.

Epona's happy nickers tickled your ears and you drew closer to the duo. Link was going through her sleek coat, brushing it of dirt and grime while you filled her troughs with fresh hay and clean water. You threw yourself onto Epona and gave her fluttering kisses on her snout and neck, singing praises into the ears of your equestrian friend and thanking her repeatedly for bringing Link back home safely.

Link, smiling, grabbed the bucket and left her stall.

"I'm gonna grab some more water."

You acknowledged him with a bright "mm" and turned your attention to Epona, who was lovingly nuzzling your neck. Your husband rounded the corner and disappeared behind your house--you waited a few moments.

Now was your chance.

You flew out of her stall and veered into your house, cramming as many apples as you could hold in your arms, and practically teleported back to her stall. The sweet mare let out the happiest whinny you've ever heard and pawed the ground with anticipation. You peered over your shoulder as you presented her her favorite treats and prayed to Hylia Link's bucket broke or something. Just... Please Goddess, stall him for a bit.

Link loves hates it when you tease him with the 'nonsense' of Epona liking you more. You remembered the first time you brought up such a notion and Link was quick to scoff at your claims, assuring you that he and Epona share a bond like no other. The sweet, sweet look on his face when Epona responded to your voice and not his that one time never left your mind. To add insult to injury, not only did she straight up ignore the blonde--she clopped away from Link and over to you, leaving her beloved rider in the literal and metaphorical dust. Link reverted back to silence for the rest of the day.

Besides! She works just as hard as Link in keeping Hyrule safe. She deserves all the treats in the world.

Epona made quick work of the bushel and pressed her snout to you for more. You laughed and gently pushed her away, kissing her nose as you did. You turned around, half-expecting to see your husband with a silly exasperated look on his face; no one. You rocked on your heels, keeping a steady stream of pats on Epona's neck as you craned yours to find your beloved. Where was he?

The familiar knot of worry pitted your stomach and, pressing one final nuzzle into Epona, left her stall. You followed the trail your love had taken several minutes ago, careening your neck around the corner. The well sat unattended and the bucket your husband carried laid on its side. You approached the scene carefully, your lips forming into a 'Link?'

A pair of hands dug into your waist; your vision whizzed into a blend of colors, the back of your house bleeding into the scene of a little alcove. You barely had time to think let alone scream before something hot and wet muffled your lips. Your assailant pressed you further into the wall, pinning your arms above your head and coasting his digits up your thigh. Link's handsome features flooded your view and you moaned into the kiss, feeling your core grow hot with need.

He moved himself between your legs and gyrated his clothed tip against your engorged and sensitive bud. Your lips pulled away with a pop and he busied himself tarnishing your neck once again, reinforcing the lighter bruises already beginning to fade and making new ones in previously unexplored spots. His pants grew uncomfortably tight as he listened to the pathetic whimpers dripping out of you.

"Shh..." A playful kiss lapped your collarbone. "Not so loud hun, someone might hear..."

You fussed and squirmed under his treatment, his mischievous, nippy kisses along your skin sending your thoughts into overdrive. You hadn't even noticed your hips rolling faster, sloppier against him as your heat craved that sweet friction. Link felt your juices seep through the thin fabric of his pants and moisten the head of his cock.

"Look at you, making a mess all over me..." He sang, nibbling the lobe of your ear.

His hands left your wrist to find solace at the back of your thighs. With a grunt, he hoisted you into a seated position and pressed his full weight against yours, nullifying any chance for escape. Your legs hung uselessly at his hips as he continued moving against you in both body and lip.

His mouth moved to capture the beginnings of your breasts, suckling the curve of your mound until your chest glistened with his spit. He looked up at you through trembling lashes, committing your hooded gaze, gaping mouth, and flushed cheeks to memory.

The tips of your toes grazed the ground as Link lowered you delicately before he not so delicately spun you round and slammed your front against the wall. The sudden impact knocked what was left of precious air out of your lungs and your brain roared, the organ already doubling over from a pleasure-kissed lightheadedness.

Calloused hands connected with the soft of your inner thighs, flowing it open and dragging a finger, slow and deliberate, across your clothed folds. You all but screamed his name, his previous warnings to keep it quiet muddling with lusty bliss. Wet, hot breaths on bits of your exposed back sent your eyes rolling into your head and you balled your fists at the thought of him taking you here and now.

You felt his weight leave your form and you waited with growing impatience for him to be rid of his clothes. Your eyes were still squinted shut as you whined, trying to push your rear against his tented crotch hungrily.

He's... further away than you expected. How big is this alcove...?

You looked over your shoulder, confusion meddling with your arousal, and caught a glimpse of blonde swaggering away from you as if nothing had happened.

Heart thundering, legs quivering, blood rushing, your bent frame crumbled in on itself as your knees gave out from under you.

"LINK!!!"

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Safe to say by the time dinner rolled around, the two of you could hardly look at each other and any attempts at making small talk felt like Ganon shooting his piss into your eyes. Any semblance of Link in your brain always ended up with him either railing you or you fucking him until collapse.

You looked up from your plate to grab the water pitcher before you and you could feel the darkness glimmering in his eyes, heavy with lust and frustration. Your thighs grinded against each other, hoping to satiate the growing need to stimulate yourself even if only a little.

You were one look away from pinning him onto the dining table and fucking him until he was a babbling, crying mess under you. Unbeknownst to you (not really), Link happened to share those same sentiments.

Hylia, you were so horny for each other and your skin felt aflamed by his absence. But... you'd be lying if you said you didn't find a sick pleasure in watching you and him squirm under each other's heavy gaze, seeing how long either of you could last before one of you bites the arrow and takes the other.

"(F/N)."

You jolted at the sound of your own name and looked up into Link's blown-out pupils and barely parted lips, moistened with spit. Not a word was spoken between the two bodies; a velvety darkness took hold of your chest and you absently felt your feet march over to your husband before locking lips with his in messy desperation. Your hands explored the warmth of his skin, rubbing the back of his shoulders, his face, his chest. With a small tug on your wrist, you fell into his lap and he steadied you with level hands. You rolled your hips against his aching cock, teasing his stiffness with every sultry sway.

His lips latched onto your shoulder and his teeth sunk into the soft flesh, feeling your body shiver against his. He moved in time with your motions, rocking you faster against his dick that sweltered with desire. His chair skitted back and his hands flew to your ass, squeezing the soft, plump flesh as he carried you to the bedroom. Your legs hugged his torso to keep yourself up as he blindly fumbled with the doorknob, impatience ticking both your features.

He swung the door open, the shockwave from the sudden slam knocking down whatever trinket or picture was hanging on the wall. You paid little mind to the clamor of knick-knacks as Link tripped onto the bed, his back sinking into the soft mattress and you adding to his weight. You braced your hands on the sides of his head while his found your hips, fondling and diveting the soft flesh.

Languid lips moved with his before traveling towards his jawline and down to the soft skin of his neck, lapping it with butterfly kisses. A shaky breath all but stopped at the base of his throat as he saw you trail red, hot pecks along the dip of his shoulder and down to his chest, assaulting his lust-stricken senses with a campaign of pleasure. You looked up at him teasingly, swirling the tip of your tongue about his perked nipple.

Link's eyes fluttered close as a breathy sigh left him, his hips bucking wildly against your own. He tried so hard to catch his breath, but every roll, every graze, everything flared a white flame throughout his core. His mind was slipping, he could feel it, but by the gods did he do his damnest to savor every little sensation he would feel tonight.

Your hands quickly discarded your undergarments and flew to the hem of your shirt, tossing it aside like you've done hundreds of times before. Link followed suit, doing the extra step of lifting his hips (you still on top) to shimmy his pants off. He kicked the offending fabric off the bed and you both sighed, enjoying the pleasurable tingles the cool night air brought to your hottest spots. You lifted yourself and slowly rubbed your folds all over him, drinking in his dirty mewls like it would be the last thing you tasted. Something dark snapped into your husband's eyes as a hand left your hip to cruelly flick your sensitive bundle of nerves.

A whine lapsed out of your mouth and you bobbed your dripping cunt up and down his tip. A growl countered your moans while his thumb rubbed long, teasing circles about your clit. Nails dug into the swordsman's thighs as tears clouded your vision.

"You want to play this game?" His eyes read. "Fine. Let's see who wins."

You're unceremoniously pushed forward by his limbs and your chest lands squarely atop his face. Link's muffled moans hummed between your mounds and you sighed, head lolling forward. You scooted your hole closer towards his propped thighs, dipping just past his angry head and taking a little bit more of him in your cunt. You whorled your hips slothfully, savoring the way he rubbed every corner of your entrance. Teeth dug punishingly into your nipples and worked the small buds until they were raw and red from abuse. A hot, sloppy tongue swirled around the aching buds, matching the pace with your hips.

It took everything in you to not let out the sweet cry bubbling in your chest as you pulled and twisted his soft golden locks, determined to break this man before he broke you. Without any warning, you rammed your cheeks against his thigh, taking all of him in one go; you both choked as you stretched to accommodate his length and girth while your caving walls sent him to cloud nine.

Link was the first to cry out, with you following shortly after. Still remembering the game you were playing, you slid off him almost completely before slamming yourself down again with a force that got him seeing stars. Knuckles tightened around your waist and nails dug into your supple softness as the man beneath you writhed with untold pleasures. Your throbbing heat begged you to wait, to adjust to his size, but you were so focused on getting him whimpering under you that you brushed the sensual shock off.

Link adjusted himself slightly to naturally hasten your rolls; you also adjusted yourself in a bid to level the control you had over him. You decided your gait, not him. Soft hands went to pry the battle-worn digits off your side but were promptly met with a sharp slap over your wrists, gluing them to one spot. As he positioned you slightly angled above his pelvis, his smirk countered your falling expression as you began to realize the compromising position you were in.

Not wasting any time, Link roughly entered your hole, keeping you right where he wanted you for maximum pleasure. His sudden entrance elicited the sweetest calls for his name and you threw your head back, barely keeping yourself together. Try as you might, you couldn't wriggle free from his grip (though he loved watching your futile attempts, your countenance contorting into the prettiest, sluttiest faces). Your hands twitched and convulsed, wrists writhing uselessly against your side as he hastened his thrusts.

"Nngh! Link! S-Slow--please!"

"Hm? What was that?" He asked coolly, exertion inapparent in his voice.

"T-Too fast--Link, I c-can’t--"

"Oh, but you took me so well last night. Besides, I'm having fun watching you struggle like this." He snickered, watching the rebellious glint in your eyes dull into something lustful. You were trying so hard to pry from his grasp. You thought you could break him first? How cute.

Link's head rolled into the bed as he felt you stretch and expand with every thrust, locking his cock in a vice grip. Gods, you were so tight. And warm. And wet. He cursed under his breath as he watched your juices pool at the base of his cock. His clasp unknowingly began to loosen.

Slackening just enough for you to wiggle free. He gasped, no longer feeling your convulsing hands under his and before he knew it, those same hands that got you under his control were pinned above him. You laughed something wicked as you sat promptly on his dick, stilling his wild pistoning. He felt small under your piercing gaze, like some prey item looking up at its predator. You leaned down and nipped his ear lobe, a soft whine escaping him.

"My turn." You purred, rolling against him painfully slow and giving your abused cunt a much-needed break. A groan rumbled out of him the instant he stopped pounding your insides at unimaginable speeds. You fought the wrists that tried to pull away from you and locked his lips with yours, tongue and teeth mashing sloppily against the other. Frustrated at your own slow pace, you took your rolls up a notch--fast enough to keep his mind from imploding but not enough to give it the release he craved.

"Please, just a bit faster..." He sputtered, pleading.

"Do you really think you're in a position to be giving orders?" You cooed. "Don't rush me."

Your hips lulled into a steady rhythm that was a step faster than what you were previously going. Link turned into a fumbling mess under you, filling your bedroom with his begging whines and gasps for more. With one hand still pinning him down, the other grazed the various scars that littered his abdomen. Your tongue swiped your bottom lip while you watched the outline of his abs convulse with each pleasure-stricken breath. Every one of your touches, every one of your kisses, every sloppy squelch your wet hole made as it took him whole fogged his mind with ecstasy.

"Mm! You've been so good... Letting me use your cock..." You whipped your hips forward, grip tightening around his wrists. The Hero of Hyrule's pathetic little whimpers traveled to your ears and you looked down at the whining man squirming underneath you, tears prodding his eyes.

"You like that? Hm? You like it when I bounce on your hard, hard cock?" You accentuated each word with a snap of your hips. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he let out a cry of pleasure.

"Please... Please, let me touch you--feel you... I need it, please..."

"Not yet darling," you kissed his tears away, giggling as more came to replace what was lost. You felt him swell inside you and you moaned. "Fuck, Link..."

You leaned back, resting on his thighs for support, and gyrated your hips in a circular motion. Link was practically screaming, begging, imploring you to grab you, hold you, anything just please--

"Nuh uh uh," your sing-song voice dripped with a lusty venom. "The moment you lay your hands on me, I stop. Got it?"

"No!" Blue eyes shot up to meet yours, mortified. "Don't stop! Whatever you do, just don't... Ah... Don't stop..."

You fucked and fucked this man until your thighs clung to his with sweat. Link pressed his face into his bicep and his hands balled into pale fists, shaking as he fought the urge to overpower your teasing self and ram his throbbing cock against your sweetest spots.

"You look so pretty, Link... Gods, absolutely gorgeous." You gingerly pulled his face to look at you. "Don't hide from me, I want to see you..."

You sunk your chest into his as your hips lifted and snapped down with a lewd squelch. He let out a noise between a gasp and a yelp and he bucked his hips up to meet your cunt. You hovered in the air, low enough for Link to slip in and out of you but high enough where he couldn't immerse himself wholly. A race of obscenities slurred out of his mouth.

"P-Please (F/N)... Can you come down a little lower for me? I need you... Need you wrapped around me..."

"Mm... I'll think about it." You laughed darkly as Link strained harder to fill you up with his cock. Eventually, his breathing became haggard and you felt his heart thunder in his chest. He threw his head back and chanted your name like something holy. Your lips left bluish welts all over his alabaster skin and you pulled away, admiring your masterpiece.

"So pretty... All right, I'll give you what you want..." You began lowering your hips--barely at first--while Link sang your praises, feeling the lower half of his dick be squeezed by your tight, wet walls.

"You fill me up so well, baby..." You rolled your hips faster, faster, faster. "Fuck, you're so big...!"

Link's abs suddenly crunched up and you yelped, slipping into his lap. Rough hands pulled you off him and spun your body round, faceplanting you into the soft sheets. He scuttled you closer and poised your ass in the air, taking a moment or two to appreciate your hole pulsating with want. His torso dipped into the arch of your back, sending hot breaths up your spine and into your ear.

"It's been fun, but..." He licked the sensitive spot under your ear, melting into your moans. "I'm gonna make you mine now, okay?"

Two fingers curled into your needy hole and thrusted at mind-numbing speeds. You screamed into the fabric bunched at the foot of your bed, fists balling uselessly in response to his merciless onslaught. As if your mind wasn't wrecked with enough pleasure, another hand snaked around your waist and dipped down your pelvis, kneading your swollen clit. The simple motion almost got you coming undone by his fingers.

"I'm gonna make you regret teasing me for so long." He hissed, his sexual frustrations turning into something sadistic.

As quickly as they entered you, his fingers pulled out and rubbed your slick all over his throbbing cock. He pained to feel your tightness vice around him, but Link was a patient man.

"You're such a tease, you know that? Gods, look at you... You're making a mess of our sheets." He hummed, rubbing his twitching head along your folds. "Whatever will you do to make up for this?"

"A-Anything!" The word flew out of your mouth before you could catch yourself. "Just please--please fuck me already!"

He chuckled evilly, prodding your entrance deeper. A whine wrenched from your throat and you tried pushing your cunt against him, but you were kept firmly in place with his hands.

"Begging's a good look on you, darling," He sang sweetly. "(F/N), you're gorgeous... Spread out so beautifully for me..."

Whispers laced with obscene praises overtook your senses as you felt your husband slowly fill you up, making sure you felt every sweet inch seep into your core. No words could explain the unholy heat that spread from your core to your fingers, tingling them with mind-rocking sensations. You felt his pelvis against your ass and you both let out a pent-up sigh.

Not a moment later, his hips snapped to life and you were completely at the mercy of the Hero's thrusts. Your breasts spilled into his hands, a wave of soft flesh lapping the other side of his palm with every forceful thrust. The other hand reached for your abused folds and rubbed your clit, each swirl more feral than the last.

"So good... So good for me... Your body was made for me..."

You were sobbing at this point. Shaking. Screaming. All for your beloved Link. He fucked every sense of coherency from your mind, filling your brain and cunt with nothing but him. He straightened his back and burrowed his fingers into your hips, admiring the little crescents his nails left behind. The air behind you stirred and the burn of a slap seared into your bouncing cheeks, lodging a pained whine in your throat. He rubbed the swollen handmark, loving the red that grew to settle on your skin and traced your relatively unmarked back that was practically begging to be marked by him.

He started with gentle kisses and tonguing here and there, gauging your expression (or moans) for discomfort. A high-pitched mewl acted as permission for him to continue. He followed the natural curve of your spine, teething the soft flesh and suckling so contently. He initially took his sweet time marking you, but the thought of his bruises painting your skin spurred him faster, rougher.

He bit the back of your shoulder and dragged teeth and tongue to your neck, his home. You felt him breath deeply, no doubt getting drunk off your scent and the smell of sex that clung to the air. You suddenly felt a hand burrow into your disheveled, sweaty hair and he pulled you up, pressing your body flush against his. The modified position allowed him to reach even deeper and at speeds he hadn't gone before.

Digits wrapped about your chin and neck, prying them sideways to make way for even more hickeys. Each mark still wrought your skin with a heat you could never get used to, no matter how many times he claimed you. Moist lips covered the shell of your ear as a husky whisper wormed through your thoughts.

"My cute lil' wife... You're taking me so well. Making me feel so good... Do you feel good too? Are you drunk off my cock yet?"

Some messy confirmation stammered out of you as lidded (E/C) met hooded cerulean. The imperceptible knot in your gut began tangling itself into tight ribbons. You were getting close.

He pulled you into a messy kiss raptured with delight, losing any form of standard structure as tongues met and coiled around the other in an intoxicating dance. You were no longer yourself, turned into a mere plaything by your loving, adoring husband. He chuckled at the dazed look in your eyes, nuzzling into your cheek.

"I love you so, so much..." His hand on your clit moved faster and faster. "Come for me, okay? Can you do that for me, my queen?"

The all-too-familiar tension grew and grew in your lower abdomen; your head lolled downward, bopping your nose clumsily against Link's. Your hand wandered to the top of his sopping-wet fingers while the other snaked around his neck. He balanced your forehead against his and locked adoring eyes with you.

"Don't look away... Look at me. I want to see your slutty face as you come..."

His velvety purr was the last push you needed to fall the over edge and into the sweet, white abyss. A scream you didn't recognize sang into his ears as you poured your juices all over his hand, your cunt shaking from the magnitude of release. The delightful twitches shot him over the edge and his eyes fluttered shut, pure unfiltered bliss kissing his features as he brimmed you with his seed.

All the strength in the Hero's legs sapped, you both fell backwards into the plush sheets, sweat and slick binding your limbs into a messy pile. Spent exhales intermitted with each other and neither of you moved, locked in warm, satisfied catatonia.

"I've never..." He breathed out with much effort, "Came so hard... In my life..."

"I think I... saw the gods." Exhausted laughs spilled from the both of you and you felt his loving gaze. You looked over at him as he tucked your sweaty locks behind your ear.

"Makes sense. You're absolutely divine, after all."

A weak slap to his bicep and a chortle.

"Must you tease me?"

"It's not teasing if it's the truth." He rubbed into your neck and sighed, feeling the post-orgasm sleepiness weigh his eyelids; your consciousness was already waist-deep into slumber. In the moments leading up to what would undoubtedly be the best sleep of your lives, he drew you closer and treated your ear with a low, tired whisper.

"I love you, (F/N)... Thank you for being mine."

[ms-scarletwings]

So there was a note under my post about Zim hovering a finger over the self destruct switch on his first day on Earth that just cracked open something in my mind.

Cause…Oh. Oh hecc you, @murhuedur. You actually touched on like, my favorite thing about this character, period. I really like this take, I do. It’s a good one. I ponder, still,

In my own opinion, it’s actually genuine confidence and arrogance, but Zim’s delusions of grandeur are as a thin rubber band. They can stretch out to wild lengths and remain malleable enough to bend around truth as he wills,

But there’s a hard limit out there eventually, and should reality require him to stretch his cognitive dissonance just too far, it’s a violent snap-back to full clarity. I don’t think he’s faking it or always lying to everyone else about what hot shit he is, because I think he fully believes those lies about as fast as he can speak them, even if he will later realize he was wrong after a cosmic punch to the face.

Like, Zim’s smart, but smart people aren’t inherently rational ones. Within Zim, the tallest, hell, maybe even Skoodge, there’s sometimes this very short-sighted flippancy about what is objectively true/false that peeks out every now and again in their psychology. I mean, humans sometimes do this too when it’s convenient to their interests, just, obviously not to goofy cartoon character levels if they want to function in society.

Zim has whatever this flaw is and cranked up to 11, maybe as a side effect of his PAK defects. Sometimes it gets him into DEEP shit, but it’s also his biggest mental shield. Zim has like no fortitude against spiraling into a full on depression or a justifiable panic attack over the smallest concession of being an absolute failure to his race. That weaponized denial that makes him so dangerous to himself and others also keeps him together and motivated forward. But it’s not largely a conscious lie he’s telling himself. It’s genuine faith he’s trying to manifest into matter through sheer force of his will.

His dogmatic mantra, “I am Zim” and what it means to him is a statement he holds on such conviction it overpowered and hijacked the ego of 3 control brains at once.

If I were inserting him into DnD he’d have the wisdom stat of a stale poptart and a 20+ thrown into charisma. He’s faking it without even understanding he’s faking it.

But were he completely detached from reality, he’d be WAY more likely than even now to accidentally get himself killed. While a narcissistic level of self esteem is what lets him ignore and selectively unhear inconvenient truths, the adrenaline of immediate life or death danger is what grounds him back in the real world. You notice over time that as self-sabotaging as he normally is, he seems to act his most rational and competent when he’s suddenly put against the grindstone and self preservation HAS to jump into the driver’s seat. He basically survives his day to day on a tightrope between a falsely glorious narrative of himself, and his perceptive anxiety both tugging him to land on either side of the fence when something big happens.

In “The Trial”, he wastes very little time on his expected bullshit or his confidence in being able to just win over the approval of his judges.. by virtue of being his awesome self. He spent most of that ordeal on the verge of a heart attack, squirmed to find an escape, and actually tried to DENY causing the death of two Almighty Tallests (reminder that he usually owns up to his atrocities with downright offensive pride). He understood the full gravity of an existence evaluation and how cooked his goose was. As soon as the situation resolves and he’s no longer in that danger, it’s right back to full trust of his status as an invader, and in Red and Purple as his biggest fans. When his disguise starts to slip in front of Skool kids he knows are dumb as a bag of rocks, he can silver tongue his way around that without skipping a beat. Losing his disguise in front of a bunch of alien-obsessed adults? Uh oh, pants-shitting terror, this is potentially game-over levels of bad, immediately gtfo of here. Stand there, chest beat, and scold the obviously rogue duty-mode Gir all day until the second it actually tries to kill you and you suddenly have to realize you’re not the one holding the cards anymore to save your own life.

The other way this quirk of his really shows through is in his selective memory. Zim has this skill to repress down and push away unpleasant experiences that I think some of us can only dream we had. I love it because it’s equal parts a comedic and analytical goldmine.

Tak, who actually posed a legit threat to his entire mission and tried herself to chip through that massive wall of denial he’s shielded in- same Tak who’s powerful af ship was stolen and desecrated by Zim’s arch nemesis… she’s not just an afterthought in his mind after that mess. He’s literally pushed that one out of his thoughts altogether in the comics. Like she, and Skoodge, who he can’t fucking stand, might as well have never even existed, even while GIR’s trying to remind him. That time he played around with time travel and it was one of the biggest clusterfucks he quickly lost control of? The bologna incident he stooped so low as to ask dib to help him with? You must be thinking of someone else. Nope. Not a thing. Lalala, can’t even hear you. This is also what makes it no wonder he deeply struggles with actually learning from certain mistakes.

From an outsider’s eye this behavior of his is baffling. It makes him look actually insane or at least obnoxiously obstinate. And I think both assumptions are half right, because this is clearly not the result of mere stupidity. Those truths are simply wayyyy too discordant with his view of himself to devote surface memory to, or too uncomfortable, unless and until, of course, you confront him with them in a fashion where that rubber band has to snap, that bubble pops, and he instantly sobers out of that complacency.

Literally god forbid he ever stops being defective in this way or is given the ability to reckon with the reality of his situation and his history all at once. I’m not even just talking about his job or banishment. I’m talking about his entire life. This chaotic, flexible, incoherent mindstate is the only branch he’s holding onto from dropping into a much more horrifying chasm beneath himself, the depth of which we can only guess. I straight up have no idea what he would do or what could happen to him if he could, even for a moment, rationally comprehend his every action, memory, and empirical truth all at the same time. Seriously, leave that Pak’s Gordian Knot be, or I imagine there could be an HP Lovecraft type of breakdown in the making.

#By the way this is probably one of the most important differences between him and Dib, and what makes Zib so… way he is.

[night-market-if]

Hello Zinnia, I'll make this quick since I myself am not in what one could call a "good mood" but I saw your post regarding people complaining about your story. Believe me when I say I know _very_ well the types of entitlement crying that goes around since I am also a writer. But listen to me when I say(or I suppose, read since you aren't using a screen-reader?) fuck them. TNM is your story, write it how *you* want to. People don't like it? Find something else to read. K bye & I love Belladonna!

I'm getting there. I really am. And normally, I am like that as well. Cancer has unfortunately taken its toll on my mental health. No, I do not have it. A family member does. And I think my mental fortitude against harsh words maybe isn't as strong as it used to be. And that's okay. I'll get back to looking at those kinds of messages eventually and rolling my eyes at them. Right now, it's just made me not want to write. But I am actively trying to work through it by writing things for myself first. And hopefully that works.

But yes. Fuck them is the attitude I want to get back to.

Thank you so much for sending me these words. It made me smile.

[thesargasmicgoddess]

Today, I say goodbye to England...

**warning: emotions and ramblings ahead. 😆

I'm toasting the end of what I'm fondly calling my "2023 World Tour" 😆 I've been home for exactly 7 days since the end of May. I've traveled over 25000 miles over 7 weeks to Asia and England. I've packed and unpacked over 20 times and have been on countless planes, trains, and automobiles.

This last week, I've been overwhelmed with emotions I can't quite fully place yet--but they all seemingly revolve around an aching theme of feeling bittersweet about new and old experiences and longings.

(Well, THAT was a plot twist I didn't expect on this trip. 😂)

There are certain growths that can only be experienced through pushing beyond comfort zones. I was, surprisingly, stronger, less introverted, and more flexible than I ever expected. There were challenges and new things: the nostalgia of old friends and old haunts; the paying of respects to those that are no longer with us; the visiting of those I grew up with; the first time meeting of a longtime online friend.

As exciting as all of this travel has been, I'm ready for home. Maybe it's the absence of routine and home comforts, or maybe it's the mental shifts required for traveling this long and traveling alone, but I seem to be more emotionally vulnerable during this last week. That bittersweet feeling I've had all week hasn't wanted to let up, and I've been trying to chase down all the reasons behind this feeling.

Visiting places that had helped shape the person I am today, 22 years ago, is in itself, bittersweet. I remember 20 year old me thinking about the passions of the future and yearning for more. I've changed quite a bit, yet the buildings and memories remain. It is an odd feeling of time flying by, yet standing still.

I've pondered a lot about the magic of connections on this trip, juxtaposed with the blessed angst of being someone who feels too much. Every touch, every step, every memory, every feel--I want to capture it all like lightning in a bottle, yet it's almost too much to take in all at once some days. I tell myself to breathe, but sometimes I can't quite catch my breath because I feel so much. Wanting to live a full life can be quite overwhelming for introverted souls who feel too much, but I am so blessed to have the fortitude and opportunities to live fully--albeit sometimes a bit crazily 😆

When you think about the growth of a person throughout their lifetime and the range of intense emotions, experiences, thoughts--it's really quite amazing.

I know my blog hasn't exactly been on "fun smut" brand this last week, but I've always been authentic here. And what has been authentic this week has been....well...a lot of writing, emotions, and processing. I believe in balance-- and I believe that to each irreverent light fun side, there is a darker, more soulful, extremely sensitive side lurking right beneath the surface. I've definitely been more of the latter this last week.

If you've read this far, thank you. This was a needed catharsis for me and a step in processing everything.

So, where to go from here?

I'm not sure. It will take me a minute to mentally and emotionally decompress, unpack, and process all the experiences I've had over the last 2 months. My posts have always been mood-dependent and my moods have been all over the place so......stay tuned 😆😂

Since I can't do anything in a normal, typical fashion--I just have to go with the flow and say cheers to adventures and unexpected soul-searching vacations. I will still take living passionately and deeply over feeling nothing at all most days....

But a break for the rest of today might be a good idea. Or else I'm drinking on the plane.😂

After all this rambling, The Corpus Clock and all that it represents seems appropriate for this post 😂

Onward...

[yukina-otome]

Chevalier: Pregnancy and Family Chapter 6

Tag: @jenaiea@clavis-hedonist@emelie-min@elenaclemence@quin-ny@yanderevi@aynfp@lucyw260@aquagirl1978@ikemen-prince-writers-posts@nervousharmonyangel@vynz0ne@zahrabasiri @rhodolitesrose@kuromitokito @aynfp @tele86 @flimflam707 @hestia0705

I'm sorry for the HUGE delay in the chapter releases! I hope you enjoy! Pls don't forget to like and reblog as this gives me inspiration and power to write more. Pls tell me if u want to be tagged for next chapters.

Chapter 1\ Chapter 2\ Chapter 3 \ Chapter 4 \ Chapter 5

Few weeks have passed since the poison incident and life seems to have gone back to it’s normal course in the royal palace of Rhodolite.

MC seems to have all but forgotten about the incident and was smiling happily again. Or so it seemed.

Chevalier has noticed that MC, who usually liked desserts so much, has stopped eating them all together. She also seemed to be a lot more careful about her food.

That night again, he watched her push the Rose cheesecake plate away from her with an almost sad look on her face.

It didn’t seem like she was disgusted, more like scared or traumatized.

Of course, such a terrible incident could not have passed without leaving some marks. Even he, who was always admired for his mental fortitude was heavily impacted by the incident and had every dish that was served on her table inspected over and over again.

But this could not go on, MC was barely eating anything and this was starting to worry him. He deduced that since the root of the issue was sweets, he had to make her eat them again.

But how? A royal decree? That was certainly not it.

Maybe he could ask the help of a certain brother of his who was particularly good with baking treats of all sorts.

And so, the next morning, Chevalier stormed into the Domestic faction office looking for Yves.

The 5th prince only stared at him with wide eyes as the king sat in front of him on the sofa.

His older brother had never ever sought him out before. Honestly sometimes Yves thought Chevalier did not know his name.

There was a long silence in the big messy office before Chevalier finally said:

“Showoff, I need your help.”

Help? Chevalier needed HELP? and not anyone’s help, HIS help? 

Licht, Leon and Jin all came and sat next to Yves, curious about whatever his majesty the king, a genius born every thousand years could ever need from the 5th prince.

Chevalier cleared his throat and started speaking

“Since the incident MC has not been eating very well, particularly desserts.”

“Oh no! she always seemed particularly fond of sweets, especially after her pregnancy.” Jin said, earning an impatient glare from Chevalier.

The king cleared his throat again, clearly disliking being interrupted before starting to speak once more: “It seems the poison incident heavily affected her. Showoff, you are a good baker and MC loves your sweet. Bake something for her.”

“I see! Poor MC! Very well! We shall have a cozy tea party! I’m sure MC would enjoy it! How about tomorrow afternoon, your majesty?” Yves said feeling bad for MC but happy that there was something he could do for his brother and beloved sister in law; Not that he’d ever admit it.

And so the men agreed and the next afternoon, Chevalier escorted MC to the rose garden.

“Where are we going, Chevalier? Are we going for a walk?”

Chevalier just squeezed her hand before leading her to a beautifully decorated dessert table full of all kinds of delicious treats. The princes, Sariel, Cecilia and Rio were all sitting already and only two chairs were empty. 

As Chevalier led MC to her chair, the young queen was looking around, bewildered by all the diverse desert that were laid on the table.

As soon as MC was seated, Chevalier turned around on his heels and was walking away from the cozy garden party.

But before he could get any further he heard his wife's voice calling for him, when he turned around she patted the chair next to her, indicating for him to come sit.

“My presence would only sour the mood, simpleton. Enjoy your tea party. You can tell me all about it later.” He smiled at her.

“No way!” Clavis stood up and grabbed Chevalier by the arm.

 “This tea party is to celebrate MC’s pregnancy and it would not feel complete without the baby’s father!” said Yves.

Jin grabbed Chevalier by the shoulder and dragged him toward his seat, next to MC who was smiling at the warm scene in front of her.

“We can assure you no one here is scared of you, your majesty” Sariel added.

Chevalier sighed “Ridiculous” before sitting next to his wife.

Everyone sat and Cecilia got up to serve everyone tea(herbal because MC was pregnant). Conversation was flowing smoothly but everyone’s attention was on MC who had not touched a single dish. 

Suddenly silence fell as Yves stood up  and served MC a piece of her favorite cake.

She stared at it for a while before saying “I’m sorry Yves, I’m not very hungry.”

“MC, me and Licht got out together this morning to get the ingredients, we checked everything many times again, and nothing left our eyes for even a second. Everything here, including the tea was made by my own hand and no one but us touched anything. I can assure you this is not poisoned.”  Yves explained hoping this could appease her fears.

“It would make us very happy if you had a taste” Jin added. 

“Yeah! Just have a bite and if ya don’t like it, you can stop!” Luke said.

After a few seconds, MC picked her fork and took a bite of the cake.  After chewing for a bit, she finally started crying. 

“I’m sorry! I know I’m being overly dramatic! I was just so scared and I-” MC was practically sobbing.

“Your majesty, do not blame yourself for your feelings. Your fears and worries are valid and you should not demean them or feel sorry for them.” Cecilia grabbed MC’s hand.

MC finally let go and after a good while of crying, she was back to smiling and eating. The party continued in a warm atmosphere and Chevalier sat there wondering what the old him would think if he saw himself sitting with all his brothers drinking tea and laughing. Of course, Chevalier did not really participate in the conversation but he was actively listening.

He remembered MC telling him that she was going to teach him about all different types of love. Was this one of them? Fraternal love? Familial love?

He did not know, but he felt his face soften and he felt oddly at peace.

The party lasted for a couple of hours, and MC returned to her room feeling light and relaxed. Of course, her fear would not be solved in a single meal but this was a step toward recovery and it was good enough.

Before leaving, Chevalier turned toward his younger brother and said “This party was a good idea, good job, Yves.” Before leaving in a flutter of his cape.

All the prince stood there, shocked by the fact that Chevalier had finally called one of them, aside from Clavis, by his name.

It wasn’t long before the brothers started competing to have there Older\Younger brother call them by their names. 

But that, is a story for another time.

[briarandhissecretgarden]

Notes abt Piglin Culture

Hello!! Back again with another post about Piglins and their culture!! These are all headcanons of course and while some are based off the lore in-game, some are def based off my own ideas!!

I do wanna say Piglin culture is something I like to insert my own culture into, so be aware some things might be influenced by Aztecan and Mexican culture as well as Salvadorian. Usually these won't be too impactful, but I am speaking from my own experiences. I also want to state we'll be delving into a bit of lore from Minecraft Legends!! And happy holidays and merry christmas to my fellas out there! I'll try to post more soon, I have a theory/headcanon on Drowned I wanna show off here!!

this is a long post so yeah :0)

Firstly,

I wanted to touch one some small notes about the jobs Piglin culture has, as well as what they do for their community. I'm certain it's very clear their people are attached very heavily to each other, all raising children together, fighting, harvesting, protecting and living as one unit. I think Bastions represent a lot of different needs their people used to have in the days of old, namely the time of Minecraft Legends. The 4 Piglin leaders put into place their values into the Bastion structures. The Unbreakable implemented the Bastion system in the first place!! They were the one who first had the idea of Treasure Bastions, as a way to keep their history and treasures secure no matter what would happen. The Devourer designed the Housing Units, The Beast created the Hoglin Stables, and lastly, The Great Hog developed the Bridge Units. With these different units, different Piglins are required to choose a job and serve their community once they reach the age of 20. These jobs are Protectors, Nether-Roaming, and Bastion Dwellers.

Bastion-Dwelling piglins are ones that work preparing food, creating bricks for repairs, making beds and linen from stem trees, and creating music and clothes. They also take care of the elderly and children, usually are very social and polite. This job is usually for Piglins who aren't able to fight/don't know how, have disabilities that might make constant movement difficult, have children, or are generally more interested in this kind of work. It is slightly lighter work,though it is constant and takes a lot of effort to complete. (this is what Briar worked as due to his overgrown tail and ears as well as his physical hypo sensitivity due to his autism, also hes good with medicine lol)

Nether-Roaming works as scavengers, collecting bones, quartz, gold, blackstone and netherrack. As well as raiding any older chests around Ruined Portals and abandoned Bastions/Fortresses. Next are hunters who will kill magma cubes for medicines and potions as well as hoglins for meat and hides. Another job is Messagers. They will also communicate between Bastions, sending messages and pushing to form alliances.

Lastly are Protectors! Protectors are trained from a very young age (15 or so) to be ready for this kind of work. Protectors train in combat and mental fortitude especially. They are given a strict amount of rules to live by and support, are taught to not fear zombification and zombies. Protectors are needed to protect and secure any and all treasures inside of Bastions as well as all the Piglins who live inside of it!!

Another thing i wanted to mention briefly is the importance of gold and how its used to show a kinship within their culture.

Piglins usually have at least 2-4 different piercings on their body. Most keep to 2 piercings though. The most common are nose and ear piercings, as they're the easiest to care for. But!! It is normal to have them in a variety of other places and to have multiple in the same place!! (Dagger has two gauges in both ears.) Tail, nipple, belly button, eyebrows, lip and a variety of eyebrow n mouth related piercings.

Piercings are done by heating a quartz rod and poking it into the cartilage around where the piercing is meant to be placed. after the incision is done, a golden hoop, clip or small stud is placed within it. It is left to heal and is cleaned consistently with a mixture of water and magma cream. The piercing is always entirely golden and is always kept for the rest of their lives.

One piercing is done when the piglet is born, and another when they are an adult (20). The more piercings a Piglin has, the more revered and attractive they are seen as!! In general though, height, strength and overall size are attractive traits among piglins, as well as curlier/patterned hair/fur! (yes this means canonically Dagger is attractive but i think it's funnier that Briar is very much unattractive)

I also want to say i believe Piglins have a dormant winter gene in their DNA, back when their ancestors lived in a frozen tundra or the prehistoric Nether. (yes this is an idea presented by MatPat, but also its common sense with irl geography and history) This gene only comes up with Piglins who have moved to the Overworld.

Lastly, I will talk about how Piglins are perceived in the Overworld. The legend presented in Minecraft Legends is very much what V/Illager folk believe about the Piglin race. Brutish, disgusting, unappealing and violent. They usually look down on them and have no intentions of going to the Nether to actually see if these things are true. V/Illagers despise Piglins usually, though some don't see them as a threat as these prejudices spawn from old stories. Even so, the disdain is seen in how Villagers have their Iron Golems attack Piglins on sight. In the current story, most V/Illagers care not for Piglins, though some are of course hesitant around them. Unfortunately, this isn't much better as there are some V/Illagers who only like Dagger n Briar n such bc they see them as 'exotic', 'feisty' and 'cutesy' so :/ but its just part of being in a new place where people misinterpret you and your culture

en ee ways im going to bed now goodnight happy holidays folks byeeee

[charitytitter]

Relapse, back to normal

Alright, so, this is going to be the last post of a personal nature. Recap: I am an adult with BiPolar. I am considered high-functioning enough that I have gone for long stretches without treatment (eg. no medication... but I still see a psychiatrist regularly). A number of weeks ago, I accepted a job, doing something completely outside of my wheelhouse. After two weeks of training, it became clear to me, that I did not have the mental nor emotional fortitude to handle this new role, and also maintain my mental health... at least not without treatment. So I spoke with my Psych about medication, and got started on it. Within 24 hours of starting the medication I had a Manic Episode, the likes of which I had never experienced. On top of the Manic episode, I also began experiencing aggressive heart palpitations (it was not an anxiety/panic attack, I have had enough panic/anxiety attacks in my life to know the differences... and when I eventually landed in the hospital, the EKG/ECG proved the heart anomalies were very real). Amidst the Physical and Mental breakdown, I had to resign from the job. Between the stress of the job, and the bad reaction to the meds... I had not slept for 7 days, and physically I could not even drive myself to the Doctor. It was during the stress and mental uncertainty of this scenario that I made a decision to de-porn my life. (I also made a decision to reconnect with my estranged father, a decision which, while impulsive, turned out very well, and I am very happy that I reached out to him). In hindsight. I view a lot of the decisions that I made, to be impulsive, and not from a place of mental clarity. I was essentially operating under a medication induced mental duress. Once I was taken off the medication, everything began to improve and go back to normal. I can sleep 6-8 hours a night again, the heart palpitations have stopped, I can drive, I can think straight, and my sex-drive has returned. I realize that the judgments I was casting upon myself were, not only coming from the fog of bad medication + lack of sleep, but they were judgments that were not my own, judgments projected onto me from past partners, and from an unaccepting society. Pornstars are people. Sex work is real work. Erotic art, is real art too. Some people end their day by cuddling and having sex with a partner. Some people read a book. Some people play videogames until they fall asleep at their desk. Some people drink a 6-pack of beer every night, or an entire bottle of wine. Some people binge watch TV until they fall asleep. I used to invite my girlfriend over for (mutual); cuddles, backrubs, scalp massages, sex, and TV watching... and that was enough to put me to sleep. Then I got dumped... Now I wind-down by watching paid porn actors, act-out some of the intimate things I used to do with my partner while I vape weed and reminisce about how nice it was to be in a relationship. No matter how shitty a day I've had. It's the one thing I can do at the end of the day, that consistently relaxes me and puts me in a position to get a good night's sleep. Is it ideal? Of course not. Ideal, for me, would be falling asleep next to a partner. But I don't have a partner. And until I do. Who am I, or anyone else, to pass judgement upon the coping mechanism that I am employing to get me through the night? I am thankful that my sex-drive came back. I am thankful that my coping mechanism hurts no one. I am hopeful that someday I will find a partner that accepts me for who I am, perceived flaws & all. Loves me when I'm at my best, and when I'm at my worst. Until I do, I will cope.

[angel-with-paper-wings]

for the truth & dare ask game: 🎱, 🛼, 🥑, 🍬, 🦴 :)

Thank you for these!! Sorry it took me so long to reply, these past few days have been busy for me. Thanks for your patience 🙏

🎱 post your AO3 total stats 

I still can’t believe these stats are all from my fics… thank you to everyone who has read my fics and contributed to these numbers, I’m endlessly grateful to every last one of you 🥹

User Subscriptions: 13

Kudos: 455

Comment Threads: 195

Bookmarks: 144

Subscriptions: 94

Word Count: 181,154

Hits: 14,330

🛼 describe your latest wip with five emojis

I’ll do the latest chapter of my fic since that’s the last thing I finished: 😰🎶👗🧺📔

🥑 you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

Hmm… first of all, you can’t prove anything 🤐 Second of all, I would probably contact @thelastsliceofcheese since I actually know her irl and she can help me hide the body and maybe even act as an alibi. And I believe @jennyfair7 once said that she was a lawyer(?) so I will need her help too.

🍬 post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

This is kind of about both Christine and Erik, but I think Christine could have become a great singer even without “the Angel of Music” as her teacher. In the Leroux novel, her voice was said to have sounded like “a rusty hinge” before she started receiving lessons from the mysterious voice. Does this mean Erik has some divine power over her voice and he gave her the talent to sing well, and that if she leaves him then all her musical talent will leave as well??

In my opinion, OF COURSE NOT. At the end of the day, Erik does NOT have superpowers and he’s just a normal guy being a normal music teacher giving her lessons in normal opera technique. The only way Erik improved Christine’s voice beyond a technical level was the *idea* that the Angel of Music was teaching her. Ideas and belief are so powerful: we need to believe we can do something in order to actually do it. Since Christine *believed* that she was being trained by a supernatural force, she made “supernatural” progress. If it is true that Christine was not able to sing as well after she leaves with Raoul in the end (I don’t think we know that for sure), then the only reason for that was because the events she lived through in the story were harrowing and emotionally traumatizing for her (which we DO know for sure). She still has the ability and technique to sing well, but her mental and emotional fortitude has been so damaged that she can no longer sing with the same passion behind it.

🦴 Is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?

The fanfic I’m writing now is heavily based on the interpretations of Erik and Christine from the 25th anniversary performance of the ALW musical. Whenever I’m having a hard time writing, I always rewatch it in order to get a refresher on their dynamic. Rereading parts of the original Leroux novel as well as other recordings of the musical help out a lot too!

[importantdestinydefendor]

The Runes of Maar

Since @innerchorus had asked about more details of the rune system in Maar and I wanted to do a post about it, I have decided to, well, make a post about it lol.

Warning: long post

First, let me give you a general, alphabetic list of all the runes that are used in Maar.

Algiz - shielding

Ansuz - divinity, mental stability, communication and speech

Berkana - birch

Dagaz - new beginnings and transformation

Ehwaz - horse, transport

Eihwaz - death

Fehu - wealth, abundance, livestock and positivity

Gebo - gift, exchange and generosity

Haglaz - hailstorm, cleansing and destruction

Isa - ice, delay, self-control and frigidity

Inguz - home, news and fertility

Jera - harvest

Kenaz - torch, passion, inspiration and creativity

Lagaz - water, river, lake or renewal 

Mannaz - man

Naudit - need or distress

Othala - inheritance

Pertho - luck or fate

Raido - ride, wheel or journey

Sowilo - sun

Tiwaz - sacrifice, fairness, balance

Thurisaz - masculinity, courage and empowerment

Ur - valor, fortitude, strength and stability

Wunjo - joy, satisfaction, goodness and fellowship

All of them are used in the general day-to-day prayers and special rituals. Everyone of these runes represent a deity in the Maaren pantheon (I will probably do a seperate post about that as well). All citizens of Maar have a rune as a necklace around their neck that represents their tutelary god/goddess (for example: Azar's tutelary god is the god of war “Tiw” and her rune is tiwaz). At a certain age (probably around 11-15, sometimes earlier), children have to go through a ritual that lets them meet the gods of the pantheon and the gods decide which of them will be their protector and the one that should be represented by this child. They then get their rune-necklace and are allowed to choose if they want a permanent tattoo of their rune (or something else) or just the necklace. Some do as it is believed to amplify the effect/power of their rune. If you want to give somebody else the powers of your rune or the protection of your own tutelary god to somebody else, you hand them your necklace to wear and say a prayer to your god (no ritual needed, the prayer is enough). The necklace has to be worn at all times normally and if the original rune is not returned, a new ritual has to be made so the effect can be transferred to another rune stone. 

And these are the runes that actually have confirmed magical force (since Maar is a young country not everything is explored and/or researched to the fullest).

Ansuz - communication

Raido - teleportation

Kenaz - produces light

Haglaz - conjures up a Hailstorm

Isa - produces ice 

Ur - makes you physically or mentally stronger for a short time

Thurisaz - generates strong outbursts of power

Algiz - conjures up a shield/barrier for a short time

Ehwaz - summons a horse

Mannaz (or Eihwaz, have yet to decide) - summons the dead and gives them the ability to come back alive for a short time (only works if the dead person feels as if they still have something left unresolved in their life)

Lagaz - conjures up water/rain

healing rune pending

Everyone in the army and navy need to be able to use at least the basic runes to a certain extant aka. communication, teleportation, producing light (not complitelly sure about this one) and healing. They train from a very young age but everyone of all ages can be accepted (if your health is fine in older age you will also be accepted) into the army/navy.

On how the runes work:

I will not say too much here on how they generally work since in chapter 3 the soldier with the scar (Pavle) will explain it for me (could this be considered a spoiler?). 

But what I will talk about is how to multiply the effect or the strength of the effect. (I already made a comment about it under this post but I will just copy-paste it here again.) So if you want the effect to be stronger, you need more of the same rune stone. But one person can only use two to three stones at the same time so if you want to, for example, heal more than one wound in one go or conjure up an actual storm and not a cough of wind you need at least two to three or more people to do so. It depends on skill levels though (so squires and students are not allowed to do that without strict supervision) and only the priests/druids (name pending, suggestions welcome) are actually allowed to use that many or more at the same time since it takes a huge chunk of stamina and energy. Very dangerous in the midst of war and very easy to misuse and abuse for power (only in emergencies allowed for everyone). So Maar is very strict with who and how to use the runes with magic force. That's why they are mainly used for battles and only the teleportation rune is allowed to be used by a tiny selection of merchants (for example, merchants who sell merchandise lthat needs to be kept fresh, for example). That system is the only way so far to keep the abuse of the runes under control and is obviously not really fair. It currently is being researched more by a specific team directly monitored by the King and the highest priest/druid/whatever and new laws are being created, but not passed, left and right. 

Again, Maar is a young country and has to figure shit out on the go - it is probably in its early/mid teenage years, if you will. This issue will probably be resolved in a few thousand years, so my AU doesn’t really touch that much on it (probably will integrate the problem when we are in Gilan). But I love little tid-bits from outside the story that might never come up - it just makes the world feel even more alive and a little bit more real! 

Also: every rune has a small side effect, so that they are not that op, lol. One will be explained in chapter 4 by, again, Pavle.

So, I think that is what I generally wanted to tell about the runes without being too spoilery (if there even was anything to be spoiled lol). If there are any more questions: my inbox is looking very empty so feel free to spam me!

[unfortunately-obsessed]

Hiiiii babes :) How are we? What are we up to?

The ask game about ocs, for you, my liege

3.(for Shiv in particular<3) 6.(i need reson tp draw your ocs) 8. 10.(same as 6.) 15.(cause i think family shapes a person in a way that is realy interesting to explore) 22.(how would they be in the ''there's only one bed situation in particular) 23. 28. 34.(dear lord is that Fascinatin. Lūdzu lūdzu lūdzu :( )

You don't have to do all of them, i'm just having a lot of fun with this. About Helen or Shivani or whoever<3

Hey babe!! Love when you make my braincells work <333 had to think this one through lmao but had lots of fun!! :D!!

Here's the original post

3. weapon of choice? any particular reason they chose their weapon?

Shivani's main weapon is an one-handed sword, simply because they're designed to eliminate threats as quickly and efficiently as possible and Shivani is not a fan of carrying weight for funsies. Sometimes she uses a great sword for the sheer power of it

6. how do they wear their hair? do they care a lot how their hair looks?

Shivani takes great care of her hair. She cleans and oils her hair routinely, and as a result, her hair is silky smooth. If it's tangled/untamed it greatly irritates her. Shivani normally braids her hair but using it loose doesn't necessarily annoys her.

Helen just uses it loose. Or on a french twist for a gala. She's also the type to either spent three hours on an everything-bath or pay someone to do it.

8. do they have a nickname? who gave it to them? if it's not derived from their real name, what's the story behind it?

Helen gets called "princess" by Bruce as a way to tease her because the other kids on hs called her that, Regina George style, and the nickname simply stuck

Now, Arie calls Shivani a dozen things, but her nickname is a simple Shiv

10. if they wear jewelry, what kind? do they prefer silver or gold? do they have a favorite gem?

Shivani got a dozen different ear cuffs. She's a big fan of thread-type of earrings but she got only one piercing to pass them through (sad). Rings and necklaces are annoying. She uses more silver and brass jewelry

Helen uses anything-designer. Doesn't care much about it. Gold. Values more the little "cheap" (what is cheap for two billionaires anyway?) charm ring Bruce gifted to her than every other one. She also got a signet ring with the family's crest engraved that was he father's

15. how big or small is their family? who did they live with growing up? do they live with anyone now?

Shivani got an older sister as her only blood-relative. But she lives with her group and ocasionally puts orphans under her wing

I won't be specifying how she grew up, but it was an extremely strict place that forced discipline into her

Helen currently lives alone. She grew up in a silent house that she never called home

22. do they sleep well at night? + How they deal with the one bed trope?

Helen has a messed up sleep-schedule. Sleeps from 6am to 10am and then takes at nap to 10pm to 12am if she doesn't have any event to go to. It doesn't take much for her to sleep but any minor sound wakes her up

Shivani takes forever to fall asleep, but once she does, she sleep like the dead.

Helen is a cuddler. She will cuddle pillows, sheets, people. It doesn't matter for her. But even a simple snoring or turning around (shaking the bed) wakes her up. So she'll force the other person to lay on the ground. She'll only sleep in the same bed if she loves the person A LOT

As long as you don't touch Shivani, she's fine. She doesn't want alive things touching her while she sleeps. Also the knife below her pillow is an accident waiting to happen

23. how would you describe their voice? can they sing?

Helen's voice is mellow, pleasant to listen to. She can convince you of anything if you don't have mental fortitude. She can sing, think of Kali Uchis on See You Again

Shivani's voice is more deep, husky and flat. She can't sing, the most she'll do is lullaby a child to sleep

28. how do they show that they care about someone? how do they express that they don't like someone?

Helen would bankrupt a person just because the person ate the last cookie. Buy their lands and assets just to be petty

She shows she cares by buying things the person might like, including vacations. She doesn't know any other way to show she cares without feeling like a performance

Shivani will do the "is this okay? (I love you) Do you want that? I'll get it for you (I love you) is it okay if I touch you? (I love you) Can I come closer? (I love you). I love you, I want both of us to eat well" and cook their favourite dishes

34. how would your character describe themselves? it doesn't have to line up with how they really are.

Helen: "Bristol is breeding ground for freaks. Honey I'm just one more of those suckers with a god-complex and tons of money."

Shivani: "Nobody, daughter of no one."

[familiariscanis]

i made a post yesterday about how none of chuuya's behavior is alcoholic whatsoever so now lets talk about how some of dazai's behavior is.

(dazai's entrance exam and the untold stories of the agency light novels)

kunikida frequently mentions dazai day drinking, and dazai himself says he spends a lot of time at bars and pubs. kunikida also makes a reference to himself drinking to excess when he's with dazai, which is another indicator. people who are addicted will often bring other people into their addiction and encourage others to binge drink, because if everyone else is doing it then it seems more normal and it's easier to deny to themselves and others that they have a problem.

but of course, this is dazai, and we all know how hard it is to tell if he's sincere. he could just be putting on an act of a good-for-nothing day drinker when he's with other people so that he isn't taken seriously.

bsd wan episode 6

only the inside of his dorm looks like this. waking up hungover with tons of bottles by your bed is kind of an alcoholic look buddy. though to be fair, this is wan, so the canonness of it is perhaps under scrutiny, but i wouldn't be surprised at all if this is just what his room looks like (not sure if his dorm has been shown in any other content?).

while none of these are definitive proof of anything, i'd still be inclined to take all of these instances as truthful, and interpret dazai as having a tendency to abuse alcohol. an important thing to note is that alcoholics can be far, far more functional than people think, so dazai being as intelligent and capable as he is certainly does not preclude him from alcoholism! of course, he might not be a full-blown alcoholic, but that doesn't mean he doesn't abuse alcohol or have an unhealthy relationship with substances.

another reason i'd be inclined to read into these little moments is simply because he's dazai, and the real dazai osamu not only had severe addiction problems but those addiction problems also feature heavily in his writing. namely, in no longer human. like the real dazai, yozo becomes addicted to narcotics and alcohol. several of the other major themes in no longer human (such as the suicidality and the womanizing) have been made into facets of dazai's character, so it doesn't seem like a leap to think that perhaps the addiction issues could be there too.

alcoholism is also very very often a comorbid disorder, and a lot of people who struggle with addiction have other disorders or problems that came first that they weren't able to get treatment for. other mental illnesses, physical health problems, poverty, abuse and trauma can all be contributing factors to developing an addiction.

my personal interpretation of this is that post-oda's death and defecting from the mafia, dazai no longer feels like he can kill himself, because of oda's last words to him. none of his suicide attempts in the ada era are effectual and they're very often played for laughs and whenever he gets himself into a dangerous situation he's always got a plan to get himself out. dazai isn't trying to die anymore. he has something tying him down to life now. multiple things, actually. there's multiple people he's sticking around for, but that doesn't mean the desire to die is gone. alcohol numbs that (and then makes it worse, but then you just drink more to get rid of that feeling. and so the cycle of alcoholism continues). yippee self-medication!

it's a little interesting how dazai has displayed these behaviors and how they feature so heavily in a novel he's loosely inspired by, and yet chuuya is the one who gets the alcoholism hammer from fandom. i think perhaps part of this is because of a tendency, at least on a subconscious level, to view alcoholism as a failing or weakness. society has taught us that being addicted means you are mentally weak and do not have the fortitude or will power to stop, and while canon chuuya actually has significant mental fortitude and sticks to his own morals, fanon chuuya emphasizes the times when dazai gets the upper hand over him, turning chuuya into someone who has no control over himself or his own life, which fits in with the common perception of alcoholism.

this post got much longer than i expected it to so i'm going to stop myself now. i'm not saying that this means dazai definitely has an addiction or that you need to write him as having one, but it's something i find personally interesting and fitting for his character and canon seems to align with that possibility.

in conclusion: hey dazai you ever thought about going to aa (do not go to aa it would not go well)

[a-stary-night]

Animus magic (Au talk)

So as I said in my last post I would talk about Animus magic and how it works in this au. I'll eventually post a map but theirs a small island south from the main land where Icewings live. Around those icy oceans one of the seawing tribes live. Due to sharing a home these seawings and Icewings interact a lot leading to a lot of hybirds. However, their not the only tribes to hang around there as the Nightwings and Icewings have slight tensions leading to them having dragons spying on each other. While the Nightwings make sure they don't tell their secrets about mindreading or future vision to the Icewings likewise the Icewings hide Animus magic from the Nightwings. However, the Nightwings have begun to work out theories on how Animus magic is acquired. Some suspect the snow, some the way the moon reflects off the snow and others suspect the bright lights that light up the sky day or night.

The truth is that Animus magic is made by the aurora borealis the bright colorful lights that light up the sky. However, the truth is worse than just leave an egg out and it might get Animus magic, since the bright colors also mean that the wyrmling inside the egg becomes weaker and more likely to die before hatching. Due to this Icewings have gained the tradition of burying their eggs to protect them from this light as the brighter the Aurora the weaker the wyrmling and the higher chance of death. Likewise Seawings living in those areas have been reported to hide their eggs in sea caves deep underwater or even in mud. Although it is more common to find them kept in a large metal box designed to hold the egg while giving enough space for the wyrmling to hatch unharmed.

If an egg is left out for whatever reason then the brightness of the Aurora tends to impact how strong the Animus magic and how likely it is for the egg to die.

At it's weakest it usually causes level 1 Animus. These Animus dragons can influence the emotions and feelings of dragons by enchanting items to change color, texture, shape based on the dragon's holding it's emotion. They can also enchant items to influence other dragons mood. This is also the easiest of them to break out of since the main factors towards breaking out of Animus magic is 1) realizing it is animus magic 2) mental fortitude. Just how much you can mentally fight against it. The chances of the egg dying when kept out are roughly 50/50

Level 2 animus comes from when the light is stronger. This is the level of intensity it is normally under. With a solid 70% chance that eggs left under it's light will never hatch. Dragons with Animus level 2 are able to mess with other dragons sensors. Making soft stuff feel hard, making cotton feel like metal. They can also mess with a dragons sense of sight making a rock look like it's gold. Once again unable to enchant a dragon directly they tend to use jewelry and items to enchant dragons.

On the rare night it glows at full power dragons hatched under it will have level 3 animus magic. Able to actually change a rock into gold, able to extinguish a firescales, firescales. They are the strongest and most feared. Yet, almost all eggs left out will die. Only about 5% survive and even then the dragons are usually smaller than normal and very sickly. Even they can't make an inanimate object move on it's own. Theirs always work arounds for those creative enough. I.E instead of 'spear kill Snowfall' you can say 'make anyone who holds this spear want to kill Snowfall' Being the hardest to fight only other animus or those familiar with it have a chance to fight back against it's power.

How do Animus gain power? you have natural ability which is typically level 1 or 2 this is the power that a dragon is hatched with. However, they can grow stronger through training. Using their abilities more and getting more familiar with it can make a dragon hatched as a level 2 animus become as powerful as a level 3. Making those hatched with level 3 that receive the right training something to truly fear.

tribes beliefs and customs around Animus dragons;

Icewings; they believe that Animus dragons are a blessing and a curse from the sky. That every unhatched dragon becomes fused with the colorful sky, trapped forever. That those hatched aren't much better off as each spell wears away their soul bit by bit until their heartless and cruel. So they tend to keep Animus dragons under a close eye to make sure they don't overuse their magic however their is no strict limit for how often they can or cannot use their magic, only that it must be kept to important situations. I.E making a earring for a lover is bad, making your claws strong enough to kill another dragon in self-defenses, good.

Seawings; the southern tribe believe animus dragons are by nature heartless and cruel and that no matter how much or little magic they use it's pointless. Instead they should be taught to serve their queen/king, abandon all love and never have eggs. Due to these harsh rules most Animus either flee or are killed for refusing to obey the queen/king. You can find each and every animus dragon killed name written on the castle wall as a warning to other animus dragons.

In the Northen tribe where Animus magic is much rarer they believe only purebreed dragons can have Animus magic and stories of hybrid Animus dragons are either made up to scare wyrmling's into behaving or overexaggerated stories. Otherwise they tend to have similar believes to the Icewings. That overtime the usage of Animus magic is what wears away at their soul.

Nightwings; They see Animus magic the same way they view future vision and mindreading as a tool rather than something to fear. Instead encouraging those with Animus magic to train and learn their own limitations so they can serve their tribe. They are given free pick over whoever they want as their mate with the exception that said mate must also agree. However, with how status oriented they can be very few would reject an Animus dragon unless they already had their heart stolen by another.

Skywings; They tend to share views with the Southern Seawing tribe seeing Animus dragons as already heartless. So if a wyrmling is found to be Animus they are given the same treatment as firescale, a free flying lesson. If they use their magic to survive they are either send to the queen/king for their fate to be decided if their parents are merciful or it is up to either parent to finish the job.

Sandwings; Almost no Sandwings have been reported to be Animus. However that doesn't mean their haven't been Animus sandwings rather they just don't have any protocol due to how rare it is. Typically if one is found they are taken to the queen/king for protection and for them to begin study but nobody is fully sure if that is what actually happens or not. Most Animus are too scared to find out if their queen/king is that merciful.

Rainwings; Similarly almost no Rainwings have been reported to be Animus. If a rainwing is found to be Animus it is assumed the tribe wouldn't do much about it. Seeing as they are highly communitive it is possible they would be given more responsibilities in looking after the tribe.

Mudwings; I can't believe I forgot about Mudwings. They also don't have many records of Animus dragons, however, they do have a protocol for if one is found. They and their sibs are given a special title depending on what their original jobs were where they pretty much have the same job as they had but with a fancy title. This also means they are given extra training to work up their Animus magic so they can protect their sibs if the need arises.

[halonicheart]

Late Night Spirits

A/N: The gposes in this post have nothing to do with the fic, I have simply placed them here so that readers know what the characters look like. Diaval (dark purple hair) and Alois (minty hair) are both my ocs that I have been working on behind the scenes and I wanted to share just a slice of their story together for the moment. Also keep in mind Diaval goes by he/they pronouns and you can shove it if there is an issue with that.

Summary: Diaval comes across Alois making cocktails in the middle of the night. The two share a drink over idle chit chat that turns more intimate.

As of late, sleep had become more a foreign concept to Diaval. The stress of recent events slowly began to chip away at their mental fortitude and all that was left now was the skeletal remains. Though, now that they think about it, it was a dubious notion at best to insinuate they were ever entirely mentally sound... He was certainly better off than this. Diaval stares at his now spindly hands, the loss of weight being another result of the onslaught of dreadful occurrences that had befallen the scions. They were constantly on edge, waiting for the next series of head pains, aches and that voice spouting some nonsense of gates, throwing them wide or some such. Diaval would most certainly throw something, a nice brick at whoever this person was, knock them out clean. Oh how he revels at the thought of giving this mysterious menace a piece of his mind, making them pay for all the restless nights Diaval spent sitting in front of a messy vanity, staring at the ever growing bags beneath his eyes. 

A heavy, forlorn sigh escapes their lips as they lightly touch the hollows of their cheeks. They look more ghoulish by the day, they fear. Were it under any other circumstance, it would have been a charming notion but at this current time it was a harsh reminder of how neglectful they had been with their own well being. Diaval became so desperate for sleep at night that he contemplated casting a sleep spell on himself, the dilemma of that is a spell induced sleep is not truly resting the body, rather it was more a dormancy akin to sleep. Aether would not be replenished and there was no guarantee that Diaval would wake up at the proper time, if at all without the help of an outside force. Most nights he would simply lay down, smother his face into the pillow until exhaustion finally hit him, other nights well… were sleepless. This was one such night, concluded as they stood abruptly, nearly tipping over their stool. Diaval grabs a robe that was abandoned on the floor, thick and warm, and throws it on without a hint of grace. Maybe a sip of Spirits will help, might as well take advantage of the rather hefty arsenal of booze that was kept here. 

As they make their way down the dark hallways of The Rising Stones, their ears catch the sound of someone singing. Another restless soul it would seem, it was the first time Diaval heard this songbird, laced with a warm loving cadence as it echoed softly through the halls. It took them by surprise when they finally reached their destination to find none other than Alois, lost in own song as he skillfully put together some kind of cocktail with his eyes closed. Diaval tip toes closer, as to not startle him. They quietly hop onto the bar, waiting for Alois to finish his tune. When the final note trails off, Diaval begins to clap, effectively startling the poor man. “Oh my apologies! Oh I am so sorry I didn’t meant to-” 

Alois immediately hushes Diaval. “No, no it’s quite alright I just uh.. Was too caught up in my own world… it seems. I should be a bit more mindful of my surroundings.” He says as he rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I.. didn’t wake you did I?” He sighs in relief when Diaval shook his head. “Oh thank the Heavens…” Something somber takes over his normally light hearted expression, he gazes into glass before offering it to Diaval instead of taking a swig himself. 

“...oh… thank you… but?” Alois hushes him once more before going back to mixing another drink. Diaval watches him for a beat before taking a hearty sip of a surprisingly sweet drink. “I… didn’t know you could sing.” They say barely above a whisper, they partly wonder if Alois even heard him but the eventual shrug of the man’s shoulders suggests he was most certainly heard. 

“I just prefer to keep it to myself and a very select few if I can help it. I uh, I’m not that great of a singer anyways…” There was a sweet blush painting his cheeks. “Self taught and all, if you could call singing non stop every night since you first learned to speak as such.”  

Diaval chortles softly. “I certainly would… I think you sing quite well, you have quite the talent. Why not quit the scion life and become a bar singer?” It was meant as a light hearted joke, but the harsh grimace Alois’ face tells him it didn’t land. “I-I.. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to offend!” They were ready to high tail it back to their room with all the mistakes they had been making tonight. 

The other man sighs sadly but offers a reassuring smile nonetheless. “It’s alright. I just.. I don’t like the idea of monetizing hobbies of mine… I fear I would lose interest in them. I’ve only got so many luxuries just for myself.” Alois swirls his now finished cocktail. What takes Diaval by surprise is the way he nearly chugs back the entirety of it. 

“Is mixology another hobby of yours…?” Diaval says as they try not to openly stare at Alois’ bobbing Adam's apple. “A man of many secrets you are…” Terribly humble as well. 

Alois places the nearly empty glass to the side before shrugging once more. “Recently took it up… still a bit rusty but this concoction is likely the best thus far… although it is a touch tangy.” That much didn’t bother Diaval, they preferred their drinks sweet over strong. “Enough about my hobbies for now, what’s keeping you up? I don’t mind lending an ear.” It was painfully obvious Alois didn’t like talking about himself for prolonged periods of time. For as long as Diaval has known him now, it has become startlingly apparent that they don’t know entirely much about him. A shame really, the two of them get on rather well or at least he thinks they do. It would be nice if he could open up to them just a little more… 

“Likely similar reasons to yours… down one too many scions… disembodied voice calling out to me and the others… existential dread… the fear I will never be rid of these dark circles… as you do…” They hoped that the last bit was more lighthearted than it sounded. “... fear of…” They rub their thighs together, wondering if they should really say what’s truly been eating at them the most. With another sip, Diaval throws caution to the wind and looks over at Alois as a deep frown pulls at the corners of his lips. “.. of being left behind…” 

This clearly took Alois by surprise. He hops onto the bar right next to Diaval with a worried look on his face. “Left behind…?” 

They nod once. “Yes.” They had known the others for some time now but they only truly joined the fray not too terribly long ago, there was still much that happened when they were not around and no one seemed keen on sharing the details. It wasn’t as if he was going to demand the others give him every last miniscule detail, they all had a right to privacy but it bothered him deeply when it felt as though pertinent information was being kept from him… as if he didn’t belong. “Mayhap if I had that silly little echo nonsense I would feel more… secure?” Diaval knew that would change little, more so when there were several amongst their ranks who were very much Echoless and seemed to belong more than he did. “It’s… hard to articulate the feeling properly. The more that happens the more I feel myself drifting somewhere far from everyone else… they all went through so much together… So where does that place me?” They know they all care for him, but they can’t shake the feeling of being an inadequate ‘hero’ of Eorzea. “I worry I’ll find myself alone… in a sense… while the others are off somewhere I can’t quite reach.” He abandons the last bit of his drink, placing the glass somewhere out of sight so he can wring his hands. 

Alois wanted to give him some kind of proper encouragement but he came up empty. Sadly, he can relate to the sentiment. Make no mistake, he knows he is a capable enough person but he’s also aware enough to know that he is not as capable as the heroes of Eorzea, and moreover, The Warriors of Light. They all played a role, even Alois and Diaval, and it is no small role… but the credit and praise will sooner fall on the more known faces than it would each either of them. It was not as if either of them were in this for fame or glory, but the recognition would be nice all the same. Something tangible to solidify they did belong amongst this band of fools trying their damndest to fight for a better tomorrow. Still, he can’t just leave Diaval to stew in his misery. “You… you won’t be alone.” He starts off a bit stiff but clears his throat with a renewed sense of bravado. “To tell you the truth I… I feel the same at times… so should you ever find yourself drifting… I’ll be drifting with you so you won’t be alone. Neither of us will be alone.” Alois’ smile is so painfully tender it makes Diaval’s heart surge into his throat.

“... how cheesy is that…” Diaval tries not to laugh too hard when Alois makes an odd strangled noise and blushes. “... thank you…” He smiles back at the man. The two stare at each other quietly for much longer than Diaval would have liked. While the smile never left Alois’ lips, Diaval started to switch and squirm under his gaze. “Don’t-!” They turn away, hiding behind their hands. “Don’t stare at me like that… especially when I haven’t done my makeup!” 

Without missing a beat, or reading the room, Alois pipes up. “You’re still so pretty though!” He leans in a bit closer causing Diaval to panic a little. “Really! With or Without you’re lovely!” 

“That’s not-!” Diaval turns to hiss at Alois, not realizing just how close he is and nearly bumps their noses together. The words die on their tongue, a strange pitched noise coming from his sealed lips. Something stormy behind to brew in Alois’ eyes, they seemed to glaze over just a touch. When it became too much for him to bear, Diaval lightly shoves him by the shoulder. After a mumbled apology from the man, Diaval speaks with a shaky voice. “Flattering… as that is… I’m afraid that this… lovely… face is looking more cadaverous by the second. I worry one day I’ll look into the mirror to see a specter… Ah-! Speaking of-!” They blindly reach for their glass, sip the remaining liquid and smile. “Thank you for the drink… and for your support…” 

Alois being ever the humble man insists it was nothing, his pleasure even. “I meant what I said… it wasn’t some passing whim. If you really do find yourself left behind… I’ll always be around.” He says with another storm behind his tender gaze. 

Diaval gulps before hopping off the bar. “I believe you!” He says nervously. “I should.. I best head back to bed… attempt to get some kind of rest…” They scurry just a bit aways, nearly tripping on their robes.

“Careful! We can’t have you getting yourself hurt now!” Alois says as he slides off and turns to clean up the mess he left behind. “Sweet Dreams… Diaval.” He throws one last smile over his shoulder before focusing back on cleaning. 

Diaval stands there like a gaping fool, staring at the wide expanse of Alois’ back as he works in almost silence. If they listened carefully, they could hear the softest hum of the same tune from before. They think over how Alois admitted he feels the same, how he opened up just a little more of his heart. Diaval is aware Alois can be a bit much, yet with all his almost silly faults… he was a good man. “... Alois…” He calls out to him. The man gives out a louder hum. Diaval doesn’t say anything at first. They find themselves standing right behind the man. “... if.. If I can’t sleep… Could we share another drink together? Mayhap… even a song or two…” 

Alois gives a throaty laugh as he wipes down a glass. “I would be more than happy to.” He was about to turn towards Diaval, but he nearly drops the now spotless glass as he feels the others wrap their arms around him, he can feel when Diaval just slightly nuzzles their face into his back. Looking over shoulder, he can see the other’s eyes are closed. Had Diaval remained quiet for just a moment longer, Alois would have lost himself counting the curls and waves in their hair where it was usually braided. He nearly missed the softest Thank you from them. “... anytime…” Diaval wordlessly lets go, sparing no glance as he scuttles off towards his quarters, leaving Alois to stare after him and stew on this feeling bubbling warmth into his chest. 

[sapphic-outlaw]

Part 1/2 Long text ahead and a mixture of cringe RP stuff and "two stoned friends with way too much time on their hands" stuff. Be warned lol. I had kind of an internal monologue while doing this trail ride. Probably because I was inebriated, but regardless I took some mental notes and wanted to put it in writing before heading to bed. Everything is perfectly optional to read, of course, since I'm mostly writing this all for myself, but more power to you if you're interested! This post is kinda randomly peppered with screenshots I thought were pretty, and then some that are actually written about. I did my best to place them accordingly! The devs of the mod menu I use, Fortitude, recently added a slow motion feature which I've been having an absolute blast with! So tonight, accompanied by a lovely friend (whom I'm just going to refer to as Charles for simplicity's sake), I went on a nice long digital trail ride with Charles and took some screenshots. This was a whole ordeal lol. Started out rather normal, no issues whatsoever as we were in a private server and had all the time in the world to just take our time and take pics. We listened to music, smoked a bowl, just got comfy and prepared for a LONG journey because I wanted this whole thing to be in slowmo. Charles hasn't really played RDR2/RDO before, much less with mods, so I had to teach him a bit. But I digress! Early into the ride I started playing Angels and Airwaves, a band that I grew up with and love dearly. Turns out… Charles hates them lol. But he DID agree that they fit the Charles and Blair aesthetic really well with both sound and lyrics, plus helped me pick out the best song to put some clips to, so there's that. Then we ran into the red coyote. I tried my hardest to ignore it, truly. But my ADHD got the best of me. I think we spent the better part of 30 minutes in a constant back and forth of "Where is it?!" "THERE!!" "WHERE?!" "RIGHT THERE!" "I CAN'T SEE WHERE YOU'RE POINTING, YOU'RE IN A DIFFERENT ROOM!" Let me tell you, chasing a coyote with cinematic mode on and in slow motion is HARD. I wish I had gotten some better pictures. Oh well though, the experience was worth it. And then I killed the poor thing. I didn't mean to, but I ran it over a couple of times and that did it in. I was actually gonna let it go after taking pics, and just let it despawn, but I guess little coyotes are no match for two stomps of an Arabian's hooves. So after selling the little cutie to Gus and getting my garment (that's my fave legendary and I somehow hadn't gotten it yet; I only let myself get legendaries when I see them in game and won't spawn them for myself), we continued south. More screenies, ofc, and I wanted to hurry through Armadillo (that town gives me the creeps. Also, I waved to a cop once and immediately became wanted) but Charles insisted we stop so he can buy some food (I told him how to fill his cores but he was immersed at this point lol, brave soul had been riding almost entirely in first person). So while he went to the general store, I chilled out with Johnny and Taima (Johnny is my horse, the brindle Arabian) and took some more pics. I caught a glimpse of Charles sprinting his big ass out of the shop when I said I was doing so, he immediately came running and said "Wait! I wanna see what [Charles] looks like on Johnny!" As if I was about to let that photography opportunity slip by lmao. Seeing Charles sprint is HILARIOUS btw. He's got kind of a naturally bow legged stride, and he honestly kinda runs like it's heavy. Iykyk. I gotta break the post off here bc Tumblr isn't cooperating, but I'll post part two in just a second. ♥

[thelegendsoferidar]

Timothy Miller-Rodriguez

The sun peeks through my curtains, electricity courses through my bones. Freed from the chains of nighttime I jump out of bed. Most morning’s I would need all the motivation in the world to even think about getting out of bed, but not this morning. I get dressed, wash my face, apply under eye cream for the bags, and take my morning medicine. On the way down the stairs Dad calls up to me to get up.

“Dad, I’m awake.”

He comes in from the kitchen wiping his hands on his apron. “You really are,” He smiles. “you’re taking this very seriously. I’m proud of you. You’ll be the first in our family, you have a lot to prove to the people there.”

“Thanks.” I walk into the dinning room and take a seat. 

“I’m confident you won’t be late this time.”

We don’t usually eat breakfast together, especially after mom… and we definitely don’t eat at the dining room table. The nervousness wells up in my stomach. I know how much this means, to Dad and to Centralia. The fact that someone like me, a kid who grew up in Centralia, moved to Suburbia and then got selected for The University of Liminal Or Scientific Education was big enough, but to make into the Liminality program. It’s like a fairytale. I’m being recognized as something more and being given an incomparable life. They say Liminal Auditors live like the kings of old. Mom used to be so afraid for me, but know I can prove my worth.

Dad brings out a plate of Mom’s French toast and eggs and all the emotion comes out in a few tears. I wipe them away quick but dad sees them.

“Son, your mom would proud of you too if she were here.” 

            We eat together in silence, but not alone.

            Dad comes down the stairs in his suit, briefcase in hand. I walk with him to the door. 

            “You know what time you need to leave?”

            “9:20 to catch the 9:30 Train to make the class at 10:45.”

            “You sure you don’t want to leave earlier?”

            “Dad, if I leave any earlier, I’ll be too early.”

            “I know. I just, you know. Have I said I’m proud of you?”

            “You have.”

            “I am.”

            He closes the door behind him and his car sputters away down the road. I sink into the couch in front of the TV and grab the remote. Sunbeams land on the wood floor cut by the white blinds. I get lost somewhere in the light in a hazy sleepless daze. The sunbeams stream down, dividing into rainbows. Each color dances as my eyes lose focus and my body radiates warmth.

Meow. 

Milkshake pulls me back to attention stepping onto my lap. I turn on the TV and vegetate. 

            “This morning our top story is the first day for ULoSE students.”

            “That’s right Charlie we profiled Brock Persky, son of Liminal Judge…”

            I’m lucky all I have to do today is not make an ass of myself. I don’t think I really have the mental fortitude to get anything real done, let alone do school. I was never the best in Drills, but now that I’m in university I have a plan. I’m not leaving school until all my homework is done, no matter how much I want to go home. I got this. I got this. I got this.

            “… I plan on following in my fathers footsteps.”

            “What a bright young man with a future ahead of him.”

            “Up next, Centralia’s blighted…”

            I get up following the lightning coursing through me, how can I stay here when I have so much in front of me? 

The subway station smells like death. It makes it hard for me stay still. Usually the janitorial crew clean up after the body is removed, but they must be late today. Grand Suburbia Station is known for its nighttime flings. I normally use the station a couple blocks from home, but it’s shut down due to maintenance.

My eyes wander around the station, I know I’m supposed to look down at my phone and pretend to enjoy whatever social media post, but it just won’t hold my attention right now. In fact that’s what everyone but me is doing. From the besuited businessman to the housewives headed to the grocery store. The entrance to the In-Between, a gate of inky black swirling with purple, connects the rails to the stations. They say a foot in the In-Between is ten in the Real, but only people who have studied Liminality know for certain. The train erupts from the In-Between and stops at the station, a burst of rancid air rising up with it’s stop. I cover my mouth, but its too late. I’m coughing and my eyes are watering. Following instinct I amble onto the train and look for a seat. There’s one in the back faraway from other people where I wont bother anyone. The train pulls away and I fall into someone. He grabs my arm and steadies me, but his hand is tight and violent and I can feel the bruising.

            “Hey, watch it loser,” 

            What are we kids?

            “Thank you.”

            I finally recover and make it to the seat far away from the guy I fell into. He’s tall and strong with a jawline like a knife. He has perfect skin like pale marble, like the marble they reserve for The Founder. He looks like the kind of jock named, chad, or brock. I feel jealous of his height but at least I have a personality like murder. I bet he was the type of kid who excelled in The Hunts at Drills. He is the sort to hurt people for no reason.

            The train pulls through the gate and eats the car and people and eventually me too. The clouds in the subway are extra fluffy today. The sun burns bright over the train casting shadows like waterfalls onto the grassy plains. I lose myself focusing on a cloud. I map the soft edges and shadows with my mind trying to absorb it all. I run my thumb along the edge of the new bruise. If it weren’t for the needless violence that guy would have been nice for steadying me. As we pull in and out of the station the cloud races after the train but never catches up with us before we go back into the Real. I wonder what would happen if it did catch up? would it be like a dog that catches the car?

“This stop is Francisco Station, next stop is University Station.” 

The announcer calls me back from my daydream and I realize I’ve been looking in Chad’s direction this whole time. Our eyes meet and I turn away first. I’ve struggled with Mindless behavior my whole life. Mom used to tell me to use the 5-4-3-2-1 method. Things have gotten worse since she’s been gone.

The Train pulls through the gate and into the In-Between again. the tracks bump and jolt running through the never-ending warehouse. Each impact sends echoes that reverberate across the concrete and shake rust from the rafters. They keep this part of the In-Between dark so I stare at my shoes. I take in the green and white sneakers. It’s been popular in Suburbia lately to pair them with dress clothes.

            “This stop is University Station, next stop is Strasser Station.”

            I stand up at the same time as Chad, who towers over the people around him, he scowls in my direction and turns towards the door. I hang back from leaving just so I don’t have to interact with him anymore than I already have. 

            The University of Liminal Or Scientific Education is the best and only school in Atlas. People who graduate from here become the elite of Atlas. I got into the Science Program because of my great uncle was friends with the former dean of engineering and reached out before he died. I was put on the probation list for “Classroom Disturbances” my first year, but I got off for my exceptional grades. The Liminality Program was really hard to get into because my family doesn’t have any Liminal Scholars, but the dean let me in after meeting me once.

            I shuffle out with the handful of other subway riders. Ahead of me Chad passes through the metal turnstile. A Fractal checks people’s school ID before pushing a button to let them enter. His M16 rests just above his waist. I’ve only seen a Fractal raise a weapon once, but he didn’t need to use his gun. I flash my ID and push through the heavy metal bars and get on the escalator.

            The campus is built in a tire and spoke fashion. Each department is assigned a spoke, hallway, for classes except for the Liminality department which holds all its classes in the center circle. The outer circle is used for study rooms and teacher offices. It makes it really easy for me to find my way. The escalator rises to ground level, the midday sun splays across the campus in a cloud dappled pattern. The cool autumn air carries leaves across the brick walkway from the subway station entrance. The campus is situated in a special part of Atlas meant for the exclusive use of students and faculty. 

            I walk the brick pathway to the wheel gazing past the trees to the perfect lawn of grass. The wind blows red, orange, and brown leaves from the trees onto the pathway. They used ULoSE as the setting for the documentary The Founder’s Path. We use to watch it at Drills when the instructors feel like doing much. It followed the first class of the Liminal program. It was always a little cheesy, like a sitcom.

            A faculty member hangs an out of order sign on the front door to the building. The guy in front of me groans and I realize what that means and take off running. Its not put together like I should be, but being late is worse.

            I am the last student to make it to class and the professor has started roll call.

I hurry up the stairs to the only open seat in the second to last row in the dead center. I mumble excuse meand sorry, but no one really moves out of the way. 

            “Timmy…” Dr. Smith trails off.

            “Here,” I raise my hand while sliding into my seat.

I unpack my things and look at the astoundingly neat Dr. Smith and Liminality 101 written on the chalk board. It looks almost like a writing machine wrote it for Dr. Smith.

            He looks back down at the roll and makes a mark. 

Great start. Great start.

“Brock Persky.”

            “Here,” They guy from the subway raises his hand.

            Yeah, it isn’t.

            “Clark Palmer.”

            “Here.” 

A tall man with blond hair raises his hand. He’s skinny to the bone, but well dressed. It’s clear he has spent a lot of time thinking about what to wear and what will accentuate his body the best. Despite his skinny frame he is the most handsome man in class, his face so pretty he could be a woman, except for the scar near his eye.

“Dan White.”

            “Here.”

            A man with black hair and blue eyes raises his hand. He might be the most muscular man I’ve ever seen. Maybe even more Muscular than the Privates who would come tell us about continuing with the military during Drills. He’s an image of masculinity chiseled from stone.

            “Right,” Dr. Smith shakes his head and takes a moment to compose himself. “Welcome to Liminality 101. My name is Dr. Smith, Professor Smith or simply Professor. You will call me by no other names.” 

Dr. Smith walks out from behind the table. He’s an old man, but the sort who has retained his attractiveness through attentive care of his body. He has sharp blue eyes, a full head of sandy brown hair graying at the edges, and a well-built frame he hides beneath a tweed suit.

“In this class you will learn the basics of Liminality which your courses after this semester will be built upon. Pay attention to everything I say and do, it will come up in your later studies.”

            Dr. Smith points at the people at the ends of each row and then to the shelves on the sides of the room. They get up without further direction and pass out black books. The people on either end of me offer a book and I take the left one and apologize to the right. He simply passes the book back the end.

            The black book is leather bound with its title written in golden lettering. The Book on Liminality. The original text was authored by Alexander Francisco the first, The Founder of liminality and Atlas, but has since been expanded by his son with the same name, and his grandson with the same name. The words are printed in different colors for their contributors, Gold for the first, silver for the second, and copper for the third.

I run my finger across the lettering, taking in the majesty of the book. How many great minds have sat with this very book? How many would kill me for it?

            “These books and the words they contain are worth more than your individual lives.” Dr. Smith walks behind the table. “Take the utmost care of them.”

            Dr. Smith opens a binder titled Liminality 101 and reads the first page. “Now I’m sure your parents have told you this already, but Grading in this class will be pass fail. There will be no tests, homework, or classwork. I will assess your advancement as I lecture determining whether you pass or fail by the end of the semester. For this reason, and I hope I need not remind ayone again, punctual attendance is mandatory.”

            The class comes to a close as Dr. Smith waves for us to leave. I pack up everything save the Book on Liminality, which I hold to my chest. I gingerly make my way down the stairs hoping no one says anything more to me, when I see Dr. Smith motion for me.

            “Mr. Timmy a word.”

            “Yes Professor.”

            “Do take my words to heart. I don’t want you missing any part of the lecture.” A smile spreads across his face. “As the only first generation Student of Liminality you have a lot to catch up on.”

            “Yes Professor.”

“The discovery of liminal space saved civilized humanity, …there in that fold in between a dream and the waking world where thoughts and desires affect reality I became a god.”

The Book On Liminality

[unlimitedhorsepower]

If I had the mental fortitude I would draw a lineup of t/nb characters to show my extensive opinions on their body types and whatever beyond hairless and slim anime character body bc I draw Ryan most often and he's a thin fitness bro to me.

What else do you expect from a guy who drinks raw eggs for breakfast and works out for 4 hours per day. The lack of body hair is also devastating. Put some fur on that beast

Yuri is also very thin to me. Guy who canonically cooks full meals for his mom then forgets to eat anything himself. If he stands up too fast he gets dizzy. Unbelievable he could be anything else than an office worker because physically he is made of bones bound together with some tendon

Lunatic fights physically on pure adrenaline and power of will. Being malnourished and not thriving is trivial and to be in pain is a skill issue. You too can acquire total control of your flesh prison and push it over the limit with these few simple tricks. First, repress everything harder than anyone has ever before. Second, use this knowledge to ignore your body falling apart. Third, repeat above process

Antonio is into Having Muscles and cares abt muscles for show. He and Ryan could bond over this. They should in fact. However Antonio is way more normal than Ryan but also more depressed. He is built like a brick house but also has significant muscle definition but he's not a dehydrated zero body fat guy. He is so tall and wide and I love that for him

Keith doesn't care about muscle definition. In fact he has never really thought about it in his life and he tears up listening to Ryan and Barnaby talk about getting dehydrated for muscle definition. He has real strength and fat and he works out but it's practical strength and stamina etc training because he's normal. This really is a guy who drinks a full glass of milk to wake up!

Barnaby is always drawn so fucking swole but it's not my truth... He's a pretty boy first, not a muscle guy. He would have less definition than Ryan and is more lean but unfortunately he also is zero body fat adjacent guy because he cares about his job and considers modeling and such an integral part of it. All in a days work

Kotetsu is kinda like Keith, he has bigger fish to fry than take care of having abs definition. He likes food and drinks and having fun and being himself. He's like old movie muscular. Y'know watched some old star tr/ek lately and remembered that shirtless guy scenes used to look kind of normal and realistic. Also I think his body hair is graying already so he has the salt n pepper look.

It's kinda moe ngl

Paused here to stare forlorn at the ceiling while thinking this lineup would be doing Ryan so dirty but people who are into the modern movie dehydration look would think the opposite I guess.

No... Trust me when I say I like Ryan for his cringefail personality (I'm a feminist).

Well that's the end of the post because I'm in massive neck and back pain so post over. You're welcome