#I feel like I should warn for that

[technically-human]

Edwin after the confession is a menace

Bonus Charles being normal about it:

[dungeonmastersconsortium]

things are getting WILD on far-right twitter

[astronomodome]

grian just hatched ...

[biblically-accurate-dca]

painting test with a limited color palette

here's the sun equivalent!

[sonocomics]

I think this is the universal reaction to this guy's...Design

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[lexintothenex]

what the actual fuck is this show

[moonrosegirl]

[yaekiss]

since your normal requests are still open （＾ω＾） i absolutely NEED to go next door to my darling kaeya!!! he can’t just be so devoted and adoringly obsessive without being rewarded! after that little show of a picture he sent, can’t quite be satisfied until i ravage him the way we know he wants </3

𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

꩜ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Kaeya, no gendered terms for reader, Kaeya calls you "my heart", unhealthy and obsessive relationship from Kaeya, unhealthy attachment from reader, stalking (from Kaeya), mentions of biting and marking (Kaeya receiving), handjob (Kaeya receiving), lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ A/N: This is a (long overdue) sequel to this love letter from a previous event (now closed!) Sigh I really meant to finish this a lot earlier, first it was supposed to be your birthday present then when that date passed by, a v-day gift of sorts,,,,, But it's here now!! Hope it's kind of what you were looking to read @pulpbeing !

The whole walk over to the next room, regardless of how short it was, you were barely cognizant. It was hard to be, when mere minutes ago, it was revealed to you that your lover was some sort of obsessive stalker. (Yet, why does your heart still hammer so hard in your chest?)

Each step draws you closer and closer to Kaeya, and before you even register it, you’ve reached the door to his room. It's the very last one in the hallway. The room opposite his is vacant.

Your blood thrums under the skin of your fingers as you reach out to the smooth cold handle on the door, as if the mere act of crossing that threshold could shatter everything at once.

And to your surprise, the door swings open without any resistance.

The second your foot pads onto the carpet of his room and the door locks behind you, the atmosphere turns electric as a singular starry eye bores into you from where Kaeya is lounging on the bed.

And there he is. Draped in the same lacy white lingerie in the scandalous photograph he sent to you. As if the sight in the picture wasn’t stunning enough already, the sight of your lover before you outright steals the breath from your lungs. 

Adorned in naught by the gauzy fabric, you drag your gaze down from his face, to the crimson-stained trail left from that trickle of wine from his lips. The sheerness of the lingerie leaves nothing to the imagination with the way it snugly hugs his figure. The curve of his chest, his slender yet toned physique, stark white garter belt against the flesh of his thighs.

It's all ridiculously tantalising to you. And he knows it.

“No need to just stand by my door, my heart. You can do more than just gawk at me, you know?” Kaeya all but purrs out to you from where he’s seated, his one eye squinting as he grins.

Somehow, your body has already betrayed your warring thoughts within because when you next blink, you’ve crossed over to the bed, the mattress dipping as you take your seat beside him. His grin grows more blinding at this and he squeezes in closer to you, until your thighs are touching. 

“So the cat’s out of the bag, and now you know I’ve been tailing after you in Fontaine like some lovesick dog off a leash,” he sighs noncommittally, as if he didn’t just admit to stalking you.

He fixes you with a gaze, “How exactly does it make you feel?”

“Is it fear?”

The silence grows when you don’t respond, as if you know in a deep twisted part of your mind, that despite this, Kaeya would never harm a single hair on your head.

“Or is it desire?”

And it’s at this, that your heart thumps. 

The kiss is messy, more tongue and spit than anything else but you can’t be bothered when you’re busy removing the lingerie still on him. He melts into you as your hands wind around his frame, unravelling and undressing him from the flimsy layers of white lace that dare to separate him from you. When you watch the pure white tumble from him, perhaps he’s not the only one whose desires drive them wild.

A breathy moan leaves him as you leave bite mark after bite mark across the expanse of his neck. The feeling of your teeth pressed against his skin, the pressure and force behind it threatening to break past the surface. You’re kind enough to grant him one last hickey prior to pulling back and briefly admiring your handiwork.

Hands trailing down his side, you graze your fingertips over his hips before you settle a palm against his length. Just before he can roll himself up to rut against your hand, your other hand grips the side of his hip, stilling him as a protesting noise slips past his lips.

“You’ll move when I say you can. You can do that for me, yes?” 

Docile, he nods and simply watches on as your hand wraps itself around him. You can tell by the way he’s fisting the bedsheets that he’s holding himself back, resisting the urge to fuck into your hand. Aided by the precum drooling from his tip, you glide your hand slowly up and down, marvelling at the way his breath hitches and eyes screw shut whenever you twist your grip exactly where you know he likes it.

It doesn’t take long before you can tell he’s reaching his limit. His breathing grows clipped and ragged and his groans and whines become increasingly needy. Every time his hips jerk involuntarily, your hand stills, prompting him to plead pitifully for you to continue. He makes quite the sorry sight before you, and your heart twinges with the need to watch him come undone.

Deciding you’ve toyed with him enough for now, you lean in, whispering, “Go on, let me see how you reward yourself.”

His pulse jackrabbits as you lave your tongue along his jugular, panting out broken “thank you”s at your generosity while he frantically chases his release, rutting into your hand. A quick twist and he’s spilling over, crumpling in on himself as he moans unabashedly at the pleasure you’ve shown to him. He has his chin hooking over your shoulder and arms wrapping around you, pulling you into a tight hug whilst riding out his high, his chest heaving as he catches his breath.

Suddenly, your world tilts when Kaeya pulls you down onto the bed, you lie atop him, trapped in his embrace.

And coy as he is, he slithers next to your ear and whispers breathlessly, “It’s alright, you can have your way with me,” you can feel his heart pound from beneath you, your pulse matching his.

“There’s no one next door anyways.”

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[fotibrit]

major angst, but I keep thinking about the idea that the spell reverses once peter dies. People will remember him again. This could go one of two ways:

Peter dies while fighting with a team. People realize and can instantly grab him, try to help, they’re SO CLOSE but there’s nothing they can do. the fact that they remember is proof of that. they miss saving him by a hairs length, but the do miss.

Or

Peter dies alone, bleeding out in some back alley, hidden from view. He dies, and everyone remembers, and nobody can find him. They know it’s too late and there’s no point looking, they know what the fact that they remember means. but they still can’t help but try, try to find him. Try to help, even though they’re a mile behind.

(And, if Peter knows that the spell breaks with him. If he tries to run from them, like a pack animal runs from the pack when it senses death, because he doesn’t want to bring them trouble. Peter, who takes the tracker out of his suit when he thinks that this one really could be it)

[myceliumelium]

help it grew a vague narrative

[meamiiikiii]

5% of a color headcanon.... two versions since b&w emphasizes the dagger more i think but i still like the warm tones ASFSADA

i am not biased towards rainbow daggers whatsoever i promise (lie)

((also friend is streaming now and im there too!! bit more info linked here, its rated mature tho))

[factual-fantasy]

So spent the last couple of days working on my FNAF recap/repair comic. And I’ve made a BUNCH of progress. So I figured I’d take a short break and doodle some random stuff before getting back to work.

So this post is just a huge mish-mash of random things I drew on my break. Well, at least these are the more coherent ones- <XD

[inkly-heart]

please don’t be sad little sprout, you are loved 🌱 🖤

🌱

[herder-of-gnorbus]

what the hell

[lyr-caelum]

✨IN EVERY UNIVERSE✨

- Never been to the moon

Night club part 2 🌑

I might post this frame by frame latter 🫠…

[strixcattus]

I'm still working on 100% completing Slay the Princess and I need to point out this moment from the Adversary route:

This happens when you try to free the Adversary and the Narrator insists that, no, you're staying put until you shape up and decide to slay her. As proof that he's still capable of doing something like that, he forces you to give the Adversary the middle finger.

...Which immediately sends her into confusion. I get the sense that it's half because she just watched a force beyond the player's body wrench his hand into an obscene gesture, and half because she doesn't actually know what the point of the gesture is.

So, naturally, once she's worked through her initial confusion, her response is this:

Eventually, you manage to snap out of it, because the Narrator doesn't really have that kind of power over you anymore, but it's still a pretty silly moment in the middle of the route.