#Now if only I could indulge in my ORIGINAL original characters like this

[a-not-so-sure-artist]

After considering for a long time, I caved in today and decided to create more Twinsomnia OCs!

Lemme show ya how I made them :D

——————————————————————

This little kids’ name is Leon! He’s a 5 year old adopted kid who’s obsessed with anything and everything space related. Because he’s an orphan, he’s def got some of that mandatory secret traumatizing backstory that haunts him but I haven’t concluded what exactly. Yet 🙂

At first, I wanted him to have this toy space helmet that he wears 24/7 and have him have poofy hair that takes up space (pun intended) in there, but I wanted to try something else for fun, so I gave him braids instead because braids are cool 👍🏾 I also switched his little star onesie for an astronaut one ‘cause that’s what he wants to be when he grows up!

I played with his shape language a couple of times to see how unique I can make him look, however I got stuck so I’m ultimately going with the classic “tiny body big head” look and will hopefully redesign him more along the way.

(P.S: I know it says his name’s Louie on this drawing but I eventually switched it to Leon because it just. Fits him better 🤷🏾‍♀️)

This is Nicole! (For now…or not, I haven’t decided quite yet). She’s 12 years old and the older sibling of Leon, who’s adopted to her family, and uh…she’s pretty much your average stuck-up teen girl in children’s coming of age movies. ✨With a soft spot!✨

The first time I drew her (sketch on the right)—well, I liked it, but the way she turned out wasn’t what I was trying to go with. She looks 16-17 in this one, and I specifically wanted her to look a bit younger.

Designing her was kind of a hassle, especially because she either A) Didn’t look the exact age I wanted her to look in my eyes, and B) Her hair made her look like Megatron from the Transformers G1 series.

But EVENTUALLY, I came across a design that I absolutely ADORE! I just changed her hair a bit from straight to a lil curly and BAM! My favorite character of this trio <3

And now the Shadow Thing…I don’t really feel like posting my process for this thing because I despise it for existing and tormenting Leon and Nicole. And because I ran out of room to add more photos. The closest thing we can get to a design process of it is from my Twinsomnia detective “episode” post.

I didn’t plan on making it an actual OC at first, but I eventually came back to it when I needed a character interpretation for the fear of the dark. The Shadow Thing is basically similar to the Boogieman in the sense that it desires to feed off of children’s fears until they’re left traumatized. Yay. Fun.

Aaand to top this whole thing off, here’s some fun facts about these three! (mainly Nicole and Leon)

Nicole is Jamaican American (she has a Jamaican father and American mother) and Leon is African-American (The ethnicity of his past parents are unknown).

The Shadow Thing has similar shape-shifting abilities as the twins, except it can only take the form of anything scary.

Nicole has braces! And she hates it. She’ll attack anyone who reminds her that she does both physically and mentally. Even Leon.

The reason behind Leon’s left eye being hidden is because there’s a nasty scar on it. The eye already has a bandage over it, but he still hides it because he’s embarrassed by it :(

Speaking of eyes: Leon and Nicole originally were supposed to have each other’s eye shape, but I switched them up last minute!

Leon adore’s the twins. Nicole hates them. (I say hate but we all know she likes them deep down <3)

Nicole’s a complete phone addict and kiiiindaaa spoiled. She was having the time of her life being a pampered only child before her parents adopted Leon. Now she gotta learn to be humble >:(

Yeah, that’s pretty much it. Now Alex has more OC buddies!

[cuteniaarts]

What if… Suiren in Vaatu’s colours 😳👀

[sysig]

New shapeshifter lad, Dahlia (Patreon)

[gon-and-killuas-mother]

due to the Naruto/Batman crossover i've been reading i will now be stepping into the Batman fandom

i mean, i've always liked Batman, but i never got into the comics bc there's so MANY so i settled for the animated tv shows and movies

specifically, i wanna see more Bruce being a kind person! also i need more Nightwing in my life. Dick Grayson might be one of my favorite DC characters next to Bruce Wayne

unfortunately for y'all this DOES mean i will be composing a self-insert story in my head. there's already one simmering on the mental back burner. it's how you know i love a story or group of characters; i write a self-insert fanfic as a coping mechanism for whatever shit is happening in my life. and boy do i need to pretend there's an edgelord billionaire taking the streets during my waking hours and investing part of his fortune to studying my illnesses during the day

whoops i already wrote something under the cut

i think, for my story, my self-insert has my basic personality and definitely my gender. they're an artist living either in Gotham or Blüdhaven. they use a wheelchair, sometimes a rollator, and deal with my same chronic pain and fatigue. oh and bc i rarely hear southern accents in these shows, this pal is from good ol' Arkansas but moved to follow their kid brother to either Gotham or Blüdhaven

the basic Plot that my brain generated to connect my character to the Bat family hinges largely on chance. Nightwing is on patrol, maybe following leads on the current Mystery. he stops on the roof of an apartment building towards the end of his patrol and takes a breather, sits on ledge and goes through files of evidence etc etc

enter my character (uh let's call them Rhys?) who opens the door to the roof and pulls out their rollator that they've managed to lug up the last flight of stairs, since the elevator doesn't go all the way to the roof. they also have a large art canvas, an easel, and their bag of supplies precariously balanced on the rollator.

Rhys spots Nightwing, who was surprised to see anyone else on a rooftop at 4 in the morning, and they look around and go "I'm not. I'm not interrupting anything, am I? Usually one mask brings more."

Nightwing stands up and assures them they're safe. he's about to leave when they pull a huge thermos from their bag (how did they get all of this up here??)

"My brother gave me this for my birthday a few years ago," Rhys says, lifting the thermos so Nightwing could see it. They pop off the lid, which turns out to be two that can be used as mugs. "Weird kids don't make a whole lotta friends. But he said the easiest way to someone's heart is through a shared cup of coffee."

and how could Nightwing, running on a handful of hours of sleep with at least another eight hours of detective work ahead of him, possibly say no to that?

he accepts the coffee and quietly sends a message to Barbara that he's taking a brief detour, all the while Rhys is setting up their easel and canvas. there's already some rough sketches and a couple layers of paint. Nightwing knows the skyline of this city well enough to recognize it even through an artist's eyes.

Rhys tells him that the sunrises here are unique. back home, the skies were crystal clear and nearly every sunrise was hallmark-worthy. but here, the pollution and glass windows reflect and refract the light in more ways than they could've imagined, and they have a series of paintings stashed in their tiny apartment devoted to color studies.

for one reason or another, this becomes a regular thing. several times a week, Rhys takes the elevator to the top floor, then heaves their rollator and supplies up that last flight of stairs. and every so often, when they open the door, they find Nightwing waiting for them. he starts bringing breakfast with him, but tells them he likes their coffee better (bc there's something about a coffee shared in a thermos that can't be replicated by any coffee shop)

eventually they ask each other about family. obv Nightwing doesn't give too many details, but enough to add to conversation. Rhys only has their brother, as their parents have been out of the picture for years.

one day, Rhys is quieter than usual, and hasn't touched their canvas yet, instead sketching and scratching out and balling up scrap paper etc etc. Nightwing asks what's wrong, and it takes a bit of nudging, but Rhys eventually tells him they haven't heard from their brother in a little over a week. it's not so unusual, but they get anxious anyway. they assure Nightwing that their brother probably just forgot.

then a week passes, and Nightwing is alone on the roof longer than usual. he's about to leave when Rhys opens the door, and he doesn't even have to ask how they're doing because they're pale, fidgety, and the circles under their eyes are much more pronounced.

their brother hasn't returned any calls or texts. more worryingly, his phone seems to have died or disconnected several days ago. Rhys doesn't ask any favors, but they don't have to, because as they're piecing together what info they have, Nightwing is already looking through police databases and missing persons and so on.

he hits a dead end, but one that is more informative and condemning.

Rhys's brother has a file in the system, and it's buried behind a top secret confidential report. something, something, Nightwing makes a loose connection to the case he and Bruce are working on for the A-plot. he promises Rhys that he'll find their brother.

and he does. he and Bruce bust the A-plot scheme involving (insert name of gang) that was responsible for dozens of disappearances. only a few of the victims were saved, the rest had been killed long before Batman and Nightwing stormed the keep.

Nightwing finds the brother. his body is floating face down in the canal a few blocks downstream, along with a dozen or so others. he's been dead for two days at least.

once the bodies are retrieved and safely transported to the nearest hospital morgue, Nightwing heads back to Rhys.

the sky is already turning from black to grey as he lands on the rooftop. Rhys has their easel set up and looks to be halfway through their current painting. they look up, about to greet him, but their smile vanishes when they see how grim Nightwing seems.

they blink back tears threatening to fall, turn their attention back to the canvas and pick up a different paintbrush. they quietly mix different colors on their palette until they're satisfied, before slapping the paintbrush to the canvas.

"Please," they finally say. the tears are flowing freely now. "Tell me what happened."

Nightwing sits on the ledge next to his cup of coffee. he remembers how his heart shattered when his parents were killed. he remembers the crushing despair upon learning of Jason's fate.

he isn't new to delivering this message. to telling an innocent family that their loved one is gone. he's learned how to keep it professional yet empathetic, to hide the worst details while satisfying their desperate need to Know.

there was something different about this one. maybe it was the determined focus Rhys was giving their painting, despite the tremor in their hands and their short breaths.

Nightwing tells them everything he can, save for the worst details. Rhys doesn't need extra imagery for their inevitable nightmares. but he explains the gang, the villain, the blackmailing, and Rhys paints on, only stopping to wipe at their eyes or blow their nose.

he finishes his story and watches them paint.

after some time of sitting in silence, the city slowly awakens and the sun rises. it isn't until the sun is nearly level with the tallest buildings that Rhys drops their paintbrush and buries their face in their hands.

the painting depicts their usual imagery, the sunrise filtering through smog and glass towers. the foreground shows a rooftop, not so different from the one they currently sat on. at the farthest edge of the rooftop, standing on the ledge with his hands raised--perhaps greeting the sun, or waving goodbye to the viewer-- was a boy. Rhys hadn't given him much detail, but they didn't need to.

Nightwing saw not just their brother, but his. that boy could just as easily be Jason as any other kid whose lives were cut short.

Rhys packs their things and stands to leave. they don't touch the painting. Nightwing asks what they'll do with it. Rhys looks at it one more time.

"Take it," they tell him. "I can't look at it anymore."

when Dick comes home with the canvas, he leans it against the wall and stares at it. one of the other Bat family, maybe Steph? Tim? comes in and sees the painting.

"Whoa," they say. "It's beautiful. I've never seen a sunrise look so sad before."

[mikeystrawberry]

Today is Dungeons & Daddies’s 5th Anniversary!

I haven’t been listening for nearly that long but the podcast and all its characters means a lot to me. Happy Anniversary!!!

Throwing the cropped sections under the cut because there’s a lot of stuff going on and I know Tumblr likes to throw half the pixel quality out the window. And also so I can ramble a bit about this piece!!!

This piece has been months in the making, possibly an entire year. And by that I mean I’ve had a sketch of the comp scribbled on my whiteboard for ages because I wanted to save this specifically for 5th anni art. Now onto design stuff!

(First off a random thought: I really love how the garlic knot came out, I kind of want it as an enamel pin.)

I knew I wanted to make this a stained glass piece since the beginning, but I was also going to add flowers at one point but quickly dropped the idea. It felt like too much and I also didn’t want to fuss over flower language assignments for everyone. I was also going to add Doodler tentacles, but also dropped that idea pretty early. Kind of on accident, right at the end, I figured out how to make it even more stained glass-like but taking a duplicated lineart underneath the regular layer and turning the brightness all the way down, then setting it to overlay and adding a guassian blur. It’s very subtle but it adds that tiny bit of depth that makes it look more real. As for shading on the lineart/gold, I tried adding more highlight on the characters who died but once I evened everything out it wasn’t as noticeable anymore so I’m throwing that thought here so the attempt at least known lol.

The order of characters only changed a little bit from my original comp, I flipped the Wilsons and the Oaks so the rainbow could work. As for the anchors, specifically in season 2, I lined them up to the teens since the season 1 anchors lined up with each dad:

Tony —> Scary: his death was the beginning of Scary’s betrayal arc and also Willy killed him.

Guitar Pick —> Taylor: it’s not really aligned with Taylor at all, but the anchor was with Glenn so I put it next to his blunt.

Scroll —> Normal: was only because it was the last left to give him, but there’s the whole scene of him and Hermie in the Green Room so it still works!

Garlic Knot —> Link: one of two that he broke, but the more significant of the two with him telling Grant he never wants to see him again.

Small notes on the season 1 anchors: I put the layer of mold in the overnight oats but you can’t really tell with the overlay. And to make the supper bowl more interesting I added the fantasy sodas mix they dumped into it. The lure of actually drawn before so I just traced my own art lol.

As for the other smaller triangles, it took me a bit to figure out what I wanted to put there. I didn’t even think of adding the vehicles until two days ago but I’m so glad I did. I don’t really have my own take on the mascot version of the Doodler (yet?) so I borrowed the design from one of the stickers in their merch shop. Teeny was terrifying as just a front facing head so I made him cute again.

In the outer circles, I put what I felt was the most significant quotes for each family. I really wanted to use “It’s okay to be angry, it’s not okay to be cruel” but it was just a little too long.

That’s all I can think of! If you read all the way through, thank you for indulging me in my excitement to gush over this piece.

[kachowden]

OMG I NEED TO KNOW MORE ABOUT ARMAROS!!!! he’s lovely

For those of you curious about this creature v

Here’s a little information about him ❤️

He was originally created as a baldurs gate oc! He was my Tav, before becoming a part of a short story I had written (self indulgently), where he becomes a party member of the Player. And then from them I kinda fell in love with him and he took on a life of his own as a completely separate character.

His lore stems from having been a somewhat unconventional drow, who had a few too many ideals about life outside of the underdark and too many altruistic ambitions that stray a bit too far from their typical religious teachings under Lolth.

With his desire to venture outward and away from the group, as well as being a rather tall species of drow, and therefor “imperfect”, he was cast aside into the above to live out his absurd existence. After an unsuccessful attempt at becoming part of the elven species, (still being regarded as an “evil drow”, despite his rather timid disposition) he was led to wander for a while, before coming across a traveler. (In this case, you)

Now drow are known for their manipulation and mistrust of others, and while Armaros is a bit of an unusual drow, that way of life is still rather ingrained into his heart and mind. So he puts on act, a rather silly one given his stature, and plays the role of a helpless victim. He sells the role rather convincingly, and is absolutely delighted when you allow him to join your journey.

It doesn’t take long for him to develop a crush on you, especially if you’re of a separate species. But it all becomes set in stone when you valiantly come to his aid during a particularly nasty spat with some ogres and goblins.

“‘….This feeling in his chest. It hurt. Was he dying? Had life outside the underdark warped him deep inside? Why was it, that as he watched you fight against the beasts that had attacked him, his heart raced and throbbbed within his ribs. His lungs hurt from how powerful the thuds were, and his ears twitched, swearing that even amidst the swords clashing against each other, you’d be able to hear it….’

‘..His cheeks burned in an unusual manor, almost like the shameful burn he’d feel when his fellow drow had scoffed at his words when he gushed about life above. But this wasn’t shame. No, it was too fluttery, to dizzying to be such a negative emotion…’

‘Drow were highly intelligent, so it didn’t take long for Aros to connect the dots, when his eyes stayed so dutifully locked onto your form, a holy light seeming to shine around you and reflect off the sweat that beaded your skin…’

‘..You must have been a god.’

‘…A benevolent being sent to guide him and keep him safe, to restore his faith and to nurse him back to health with your kind words and gentle touches..’

‘..Yes, that was it. You were a God. His God.’”

Armaros, despite being a highly intelligent creature, had taken his realization of love towards you (despite only having known you a few days), and twisted into something made of unhealthy devotion. His belief that Lolth teachings were not suited to him, left him feeling a bit lost previously, and so when his somewhat deluded mind latched onto the way you protected him, and seemed to bathe him in your holy presence, he became your faithful little follower.

Offering you gifts, and praising poems. Upholding your words like they were sacred teachings, and even going as far as to write them down. “My god, My savior, My Lord, My Holy One” were all names he had referred to you as while you continued your journeys together. You were obviously a little disturbed by such a drastic title, but no matter how insistent you were, he would merely smile with such a love struck gaze and go on about humble and kind you were. You could be a completely evil and rule being deep down, and he’d still defend you till dying breath, and insist that his god could do no wrong.

Now despite the belief that the very ground you walked on was sacred, it didn’t stop his more selfish desires. Yes he knew he was hopelessly in love with you, but his belief that you were his god shrouded that love with obsession and a twisted lustful shame that brewed deep inside him. He even fought with himself in thinking that he did not deserve you in such a way, and yet did not believe anyone else would be a more suited lover for you. No one would worship you like he did.

His eyes would often wander down your figure, or lunge towards your lips when you spoke. He was still a rather pathetic character, or at least he behaved in a rather timid and shy way. Often whining about various things, and clinging desperately to your form as you walked, mumbling about how unfit it was to have you walk, you should let him carry you! He’s strong, and his stamina in unmatched. He could take care of you in anyway you saw fit.

No no! You mustn’t prune your hands with the rivers water, let him! He’ll bathe you, and rest assured he won’t miss a a single inch. Perhaps his hands wander a little to much and his washing becomes something more akin to a massage but nonetheless. You’re certainly squeaky clean by the end of it. 



Overall, his help is usually more of a hindrance, with how much he hovers around you, and how hostile he can be towards potential party members. He’s selfish with his god, why would others deserve to worship you the way he does? They can praise you from a distance.

But anyway that’s pretty much his lore🙏 I love him so freaking much, makes me kick my feet and twirl my hair fr.

[easy-there-leftovers]

I See You, Darling

[Astarion x reader] The idea never left my mind, and I so very badly need this right now. Heavily inspired by this cutscene where Tav chooses a dialogue option and Astarion's eyes just deviate-- (gif above, just wait for his eyes to look at you WKDKWKDK) |Word count: 2k.| Based off of this post I made.

Part 2 here!!

Also, this is more heavy on the world building rather than dialogue. If I end up making this a series, I might write with more dialogue in mind but it was just necessary to do this first afhjaqfbnjkafbnebn--

A story in which an overworked art student longs for a fictional character that they've devoted so much of their time to.

Alternatively; Astarion realizes there's someone else watching him. And he can't wait to get acquainted with them.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

One.

Two.

Three.

It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine. 

You’ll admit, perhaps you were simply tired. Attending a prestigious school for the arts doesn’t exactly leave you with much free time to indulge in more calming forms of recreation. Your course requires you to consume a wide array of media to expand your library of creativity, after all. All in the name of generating more interesting media to entrance and enthrall your audience with your original work. 

Maybe all the moving pictures and swimming texts have caused you to greatly misunderstand what you are seeing. Surely, your favorite character isn’t looking directly at you, right?

Right?

But before that, let’s review what might have happened earlier to explain just what exactly in gods name is happening.

Shall we?

——

You purchased the game a few months back. “Baldur’s Gate 3.” A game that took the players and immersed them in the world of Dungeons & Dragons, introducing them to the mechanics of tabletop RPG as they did. It seemed interesting enough. And if the concept of character creation and storytelling didn’t sell you on the idea of it, the pretty faces on the cover certainly did.

So, with the little money you could spare from your part time job at your own institution’s library, and with what little sanity you had left to argue with, you impulsively bought said game. And it was fun. Exhilarating. Electrifying. 

Until you ran into a problem.

Astarion. The rogue, elven vampire that you have chosen to romance after careful deliberation. You scoffed to yourself. He was one of the biggest reasons why you purchased the blasted game at all. You’ve carefully studied the character in all his glory, from his striking carmine eyes and delicate unstained curls, to his aptitude for bloodshed and all manners of gore. He was such an interesting character, giving you more and more reason to pursue him as the story progressed. Yet the same can’t be said about your relationship with him. Or at least your “Tav’s” relationship with him. 

You’ve had some difficulty in deepening your relationship with the ex-magistrate. It seemed as if no matter what options you chose, no matter what manner of advances you made, he’d be quick to dismiss you. Painting you as a desperate little pup as he did. Denying you the opportunity of further knowing him. You’ve created and overwritten more save slots than you'd like to admit, perusing each one to select different lines of dialogue only to be rejected time and time again.

You thought it strange. But perhaps this was simply the way his route was meant to unfold. He was such an incredibly complex character after all. Perhaps this was meant to prove the party’s loyalty. 

But that didn’t stop you from being frustrated with other aspects of the gameplay. You've spent countless nights hunched on your work chair, back curving like a dead bug as you analyzed each and every possible outcome in combat. Eyes, bloodshot from cutting your sleeping hours short, just to endure the story until you were at an appropriate place to log out. And hair, flicking and curling out in different directions due to you weaving your hands through them in exasperation. 

You saw your reflection on your screen as it darkened to load the next scene and you couldn't help but stare at your character in slight envy. You know full well that however you designed them, it wouldn’t affect how the others perceived you, and yet you couldn’t help but pretty them up for your own interest. You designed it with yourself in mind, but making them far more attractive than you would ever be. Effortlessly beautiful as they stirred to wake up in the forest you settled in for camp.

How could Astarion ever turn this beautiful being away? If not for their heroism, then surely their looks would be enough to draw him in, no?

And speak of the devil. Once you could control your character again, you readied them to interact with your sharply dressed companion. Wanting to try your luck once more as the bright sun shone upon your character like a promise of a new day. Unfortunately, you’re greeted with a look of boredom, oh so familiar, that you sigh. “I hope you’re not here to beg—” Mocking him, echoing the words you’ve come to expect with faux mirth in your voice. But you cut yourself short when you realize he has yet to say anything. 

Strange.

 What’s even stranger is that he's just staring at you. Well,--- he’s staring at Tav. Your character.

“What the fuck…?” You move your mouse around, clicking to try and toggle the dialogue options to no avail, screen stuck in a cinematic close up of his face. Much like how the camera always pans when awaiting your response. 

However, unlike the common script of his actions that you’re used to, the one that you’ve memorized like a well practiced dance, his eyes smoothly glide off of your character and onto you. 

You freeze, but your heart doesn’t. The beating of your chest growing stronger the longer he looks at you. Eyes, blood red like rubies, boring into your own. He regards you, blinks, and then smiles that deviously charming smile of his before your screen turns dark. Your computer turns off, and you stare in shock of what just happened.

‘No fucking way, no fucking way, no fucking way—‘ You’re not delusional, right? Sure, you’re tired, but no fucking way did you just imagine one of the hottest characters you’ve seen in a while break the fourth wall just to fuck with you.

You laugh to yourself.

Yes, you’re just tired. Nothing like a good four hours of sleep can’t remedy. Although, as you get up from your chair, foolish as it may seem, you grab a used shirt from your floor, and hang it on your computer in the case that those piercing eyes come to life once again while you sleep.

——

You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you get ready for the day, you notice your dirtied clothing still on your computer. Covering it as if it were a petrifying doll from a horror movie. You feel childish for doing so, reasoning that you were simply stressed from the events that taken place prior and removed the cloth.

As you did, your screen was brought back to life. Showing you the next night as if your little "tryst" with Astarion never happened. An entire thirty minutes or so of progress seemingly gone. Thankfully, you saved just before your game went haywire and you attempted to load up your last slot. 

Zzzt Zzzzt!

Alas, your game was not cooperating once again. You tried the save just before that and the same error screen presented itself to you. ‘Maybe this is a sign that I should just fucking work instead.’ Irritated at the thought, you moved to log out of the game but a familiar voice convinces you otherwise as the screen returns to normal. 

“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” 

‘Is this— a romance scene?!’ Astarion had never initiated an interaction before! Perhaps the game gods were granting you mercy. Or maybe, something you did last night might have given way for this line of dialogue to open up. Regardless, you happily took the opportunity and began reading your choices.

“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” ━─━────༺༻────━─━

Well. Thank you.

It’s none of your concern, fangs.

Better now that you’re here.

What happened last night?

━─━────༺༻────━─━

What…did happen last night? You don’t recall anything past the blackening of your screen, but it looks like you did something after that which caused this dialogue.

You don’t want to squander this opportunity, who knows when this will happen again, but your curiosity gets the best of you. So you save, and choose option 4. 

“Oh, you poor thing. Spooked you, did I?” He laughs, seemingly taking in the look of confusion that graces both yours and Tav’s face.

“What do you think happened last night?”

“My fucking game crashed.” You answer automatically.

Tav moves to open their mouth but is silenced with a tut. “Not you, spawn.” His eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement, but the way his mouth is pulled in a tightly-lipped smile offers you further insight otherwise. 

“I need your answer.” His eyes are on you yet again, and you feel the world begin to spin.

——

You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you plan to get ready for the day, you notice you’re not exactly in a state to do so. You expected to wake at dawn, the dark and cool air to greet you as it fills your room and envelops your walls. Instead, you wake to see an endless amount of evergreen and the smell of the dark and damp grass beneath you filling your senses.

And if spending hours, weeks, months, of playing this damned game has taught you anything, you know that you now reside in the heart of the forest that you usually set up camp in. But this time, you're far from your bedroll and the fire that your party created.

One.

Two.

Three.

It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far to no avail. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine. 

And this chill so does love playing games.

You clamber away on your knees when you hear that deep chuckle of his emanate from right beside your ear. Creating as much distance to inspect this figure you’ve yet to face.

You see Astarion in all his vampiric glory. ‘Well, for a vampire spawn, I guess.’ You comment to yourself. Crimson eyes, darker than you imagined, with full, dark lashes contrasting his pallid skin and pure hair that glow under the moonlight. An unsettling, and cursedly attractive, smirk curls onto his lips. His ivory fangs on full display as he does.

“It seems as if those useless artifacts were worth something.” He marvels at his handiwork, his prize, and approaches it with confidence. 

“Well, your character certainly is more ‘prettied up.’” He circles you, carefully appraising his newest asset, and grins. “But you are far more intriguing.”

A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster.

“Although, you are very cute. Cheeky little pup, aren’t you?” He jests.

A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster which earns you a click of his tongue in response.

“You’re not broken, are you? Or am I to anticipate your little ‘what the fuck?’s as your only contribution?” Long, and incredibly masculine, fingers crawl and curl to grasp your chin like a spider. 

“I’ve waited months to have you. And now here you are, finally within my grasp.” The statement causes something to stir within you.

“What do you mean, ‘months?” 

He narrows his eyes, possibly trying to comprehend your stupidity.

“I’ve been watching you. Waiting, for the right moment. Interacting with this– caricature of yourself until you could deny yourself of me no more.” Blood rushes to your head. Your cheeks burning in embarrassment for seeming overly eager. And in panic as his intentions have yet to be cleared.

“And now that I’m here? Do you want to kill me?” You feel your heartbeat in your ears, awaiting his response. Your eyes wide in fear, yet trying to fake heroic bravado in the attempts to gain the upperhand.

And in this moment, he thinks you absolutely invigorating.

“Oh no, sweet pet. I’ve waited far too long for that. I’m going to make you mine.”

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Should I make this into a series? "The adventures of a misplaced artist in Baldur's Gate!!" Or something like that. Let me know, lol

[andhumanslovedstories]

chapter eleven of what feels like the most soap opera ass fic I've ever written and then just a bunch of thoughts about writing it, which contains vague spoilers for my plans:

The inception of the fic basically went like this:

haha lol i'd be fun if sqq got real mad at the state of education

what would need to happen in this fic that doesn't happen in canon to motivate him to do something about it

oh shit he didn't unlock OOC so he has to figure out how to be his coddling indulgent self (which he's in denial about) while also being shen jiu

But the thing that really made the story get so much bigger in scope was when I was reading a fic with yqy coming clean to sj, and sj being like, "GASP. I forgive you." And I was "I simply do not believe that this is how it would happen." And I would have moved on with my life, but then I thought, "but like how would it happen." And more importantly, how could this conversation happen within the canon timeline but still involve Shen Jiu, the person this information affects.

The OOC idea and the need for Shen Jiu to be present in this fight scene came together to be like "what if sqq got sj's memories so he could rules-lawyer his characterization more accurately, and ends up being furious on sj's behalf?"

(This, btw, is why I knew I had to get much fonder of YQY and get a much better understanding of his character. When a pillar of your fic idea is a character getting ripped into for his choices, it is sooooooo easy to for it to come off as the author yelling their personal opinions or for it to be completely flat character bashing. Neither are interesting to read or write! Hence the crash-course in YQY appreciation, so now he gets his own emotional arc too. Everyone gets a goddamn plotline.)

Meanwhile I was also thinking about the implications of downloading another person's life into your head. If you have their memories and their body, are you them? What makes you not them? I didn't know! I sort of just kept writing and posting with the assumption that I'd figure something out, which I've finally nailed down btw. That's a relief! Also kinda the fun of WIPs where you're building the railroad track as you're on the train. I end up fanficing my own fanfic. Once stuff is posted, that's the canon, and I look at it and think, "if this was a book I was reading, what is the way I would extrapolate what's there to make a new but coherent story?"

That's why my outline becomes pretty useless after a while. The big picture doesn't change too much--I know roughly where all the major characters are going to be emotionally by the end of the story--but I discover the path I'm going to take there. Which usually means adding stuff. Liu Qingge wasn't going to get a POV, and now every chapter I'm like "fuck am I building a throuple". Ming Fan will have waaaay more a story line than I originally conceived. Early on, I was like "eh I'm not going to go too far into the brothel stuff," and can you guess what is going to be coming up prominently in the next few chapters? God help me.

Actually, there's only one major part of the outline that I cut: Shang Qinghua. He was originally very prominent early on, but turns out having the literal Word of God in a story about slowly discovering backstory is difficult to reconcile. So sadly, he doesn't get a real role. If you're curious, the original plan for him was that SQQ would realize he's a transmigrator much earlier in the canon, but the System would be like [shen jiu would not tell shang qinghua he is a transmigrator. ooc] which would lead to this series of SQQ trying to figure out how he can communicate around this. SQQ at a peak meeting being like, "do you think these DEMONS are PROUD of having made their WAY to us IMMORTALS?" while SQH is like, "AM I HAVING A STROKE?"

What's some other stuff about this fic? I've got a lot of thoughts bottled up, in part because I'm kinda snobby tbh in how I post. I'm like "*pushes glasses up my nose* the author's takes on the story should not be unavoidably present when reading the text" so I don't like to use ao3's author's notes. It's ridiculous and not a standard I hold anyone else too, but whenever I find myself wanting to address something in the notes, I know I must feel insecure about that part of the story. So either fix it or don't draw attention to it. But this is fine, you have to come here for this. This is DVD commentary.

My favorite part of writing this fic has been balancing Shen Jiu's character. As I'm fleshing out his sad backstory, I've been wary of essentially woobifying him. Reducing him to just someone who greatly suffered is so boring and flat. He NEEDS to suck. Or more accurately, he needs to be a very imperfect victim. Exasperating at his mildest, despicable at his worst. (Truthfully, I do think I can and should make him worse. Luckily this story is nothing but flashbacks to him at his worst so there's plenty of opportunities.)

This whole mental breakdown section has been an interesting balancing act because it's explicitly about how bad Shen Jiu's life was and now how bad Shen Qingqiu's is. It's the point at which I had to decide how torturous his time at the Qiu manor had been (me and Shen Qingqiu really discovered that together). On a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being the absolute worst saddest brutalist ideas I had for this era in his life, I'd say I settled on about a 7. Most of it is backstage in my head, but once I locked that down, I could start figuring out how much was bleeding through.

Anyway, it's been fun writing the angstfest of the last few chapters, but oh my god am I ready for a tone shift. There's usually jokes in my works, even the saddest bits, but jokes relieve tension which is the opposite of what I was going for. I didn't want any humor in the YQY conversation, then you have to keep not joking for a while to get the point across. There's still a lot of planned emotional shit, but I'm happy to not be wallowing for a while.

AND GOD AS MY WITNESS THIS STORY WILL NOT BE LONGER THAN 20 CHAPTERS. MAYBE IT'LL EVEN BE LESS!! IT IS DEFINITELY NOT GOING TO BE A WHOLE CANON REWRITE. PROBABLY!! IF TIANLANG JUN HAS ANY SIGNIFICANT SCREEN TIME, PLEASE KNOW THAT I HAVE FAILED.

[xamag-draws]

BBR thoughts 2024

Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies

This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not

So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters

I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash

I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted

Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it

At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do

Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction

So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older

I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet

When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"

But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work

If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now

I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:

Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)

I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat

I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least

I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example

I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep

I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor

I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence

The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers

Some new Dolly outfits

Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days

Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo

I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused

One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book

An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well

So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)

[bianquitasworld]

Can we have Dave as a total nerd who gets invited to his first highschool rager where he meets reader who's interested in him?

Parings: Dave Lizewski x Reader ₊ ⊹

A/N: Sorry for being gone I had no inspiration. I would make this a story but i’m scared to I trust myself doing little head-canons better :( also! Did y’all see the brawl in alabama !? 🪑

Warnings: Underage drinking, I pictured the characters around being 17-18 since they are in high school!! Dave is 18 reader is 18!!

• Well first of all we all know Dave is a huge nerd and kind of a loser, So how he even got invited to a rager is unknown.

• He decide to go, figured it would be better than spending his time away at home reading comics. Poor boy was lost and confused he did not know what to wear, he was stressed!

• He spent so much time trying to find an outfit at the end of it clothes was all over his bed and floor hangers were everywhere. All this mess just for him to go with the first outfit he had originally put on.

• Dave was so stressed out about absolutely everything he wanted to turn back and go home and read his comic books in the safety of his room.

• The music was far too loud teenagers were everywhere indulging in underage-drinking and dancing, some making out and practically having sex, gross.

• Dave was scared he couldn’t find the person who invited him so he just walked around, he grabbed a cup just to try and fit amongst everyone else at the party.

• Dave recognized some of the people from his school and decided to keep his head down to not embarrass himself in front of them. He noticed many jocks playing beer pong and cheering each other on.

• As he walked around he found comfort in a dark corner away from everyone. Dave would definitely just sit in the corner by himself and people watch, which is exactly what he did until some shirtless drunk dude accidentally slammed in to him, making him spill his beer all over his shirt.

• Dave tried to find a bathroom to clean off his shirt but all the bathrooms downstairs were occupied, so he went upstairs he tried finding the bathroom but instead walked in on a couple about to have sex. He was mortified, the girl threw her shoe and screamed at him to get out.

• once he found the bathroom he opened it without knocking (he didn’t learn his lesson) and walked in on you adjusting your dress,

“Dude what the fuck? Didn’t anyone teach you to knock?”

he was a stuttering mess while he apologized.

“Sorry-sorry i was just trying to-nothing never mind”

• when he was about to leave you stopped him telling him it was fine and you were done anyways. He couldn’t make eye contact with you he was so nervous he thought you were so pretty and his nostrils were overwhelmed by your sweet perfume. Was he drooling? probably.

• Before he could leave you stopped him.

“No, Sorry it’s fine I was done anyways. You okay? You seem like..uncomfortable?”

He was blushing and nervous, he grabbed some toilet paper and tried to clean the now almost dry beer off his shirt.

“Y-yeah? I’m fine-i’m cool just never been to one of these things before-and and…you’re really p-pretty and you smell really good..”

His smile and was cute and his glasses only added to how adorable he looked.

• When he heard your laugh he was done for! That man would’ve done anything you asked and he’d only spoken two sentences to you.

• “well..thanks uh —?”

“Dave my name-it’s uh Dave w-whats yours??”

“I’m —“

• You guys would probably spend 30 minutes talking in the bathroom and laughing, you can definitely tell this is not his scene like at all.

• “So Dave..do you want to give me your number? Or are you just gonna stare at me?”

his loser ass is so embarrassed!! He gives you his number and you guys text all night and morning.

[yuanology]

I imagine spanking Satoru in my lap while whispering lewd things about him being a pervert while the only thing he can do is sob and bite my shoulder ,bby is so lost in pleasure he wishes to end up as satisfied as his best friend who is laying asleep in front of him but bby is so new he is ashamed of asking so force him into telling what he wants and then like …corruption kink akksnwkaoaoao😋🐸 idkkkk 🫨

hey ...... i'm sorry in advance for this one. i don't fucking know what this is either. also, this ended up being an entirely separate thing from the original satosugu fic & this is just........ afab!satoru getting his cunt slapped raw while suguru—who's implied to have been fucked by reader earlier—is passed the fuck out. &. i ended up writing this as a teacher!suguru au a.k.a everything goes well au so yeah, don't get confused

despite common first impression, twenty-eight years old gojo "the strongest" satoru had never been touched by anyone before. yes, you heard that right. he was still a virgin; pure and untouched.

before he came to jujutsu tech—before he left home, before he found out about the world, before he realised that he was practically a damn princess stuck in his tower—satoru hadn't even thought of the art of carnal pleasure. he had thought it was just something that happened, not something to indulge himself in.

growing up amongst people his age had been an awakening, that was for certain. his hands started wrapping around himself more often, the collar of his shirt caught between his teeth as he stifled the noise escaping his throat. porn became a commodity, and satoru wasn't exactly oblivious to it, he just never had the time or opportunity to try it.

until you.

satoru let loose another sob, tears streaking down his face. his teeth was caught around the meat of your shoulder, and he could barely breathe around it, much less speak coherently. he still whimpered, "too much."

"you wanted this," you reminded him, your voice low and dirty and so, so fucking real that it's driving him insane. nothing—nothing, no lewd images or videos or even his own imagination—could compare to the feeling of you right now. "you asked me for this, baby."

and you were right. he had asked for this, craving your closeness just as much as he craved the feeling of your hands on him. he had asked you for this, physically and audibly begged you to give him a taste of the things that he had seen and watched all these years.

finally, satoru had thought to himself when he met you properly for the first time. finally, someone who can understand. who can finally give me what i need. it hadn't taken much time before he was on his knees, begging for you to give him everything and so much more. men like gojo satoru didn't make a habit out of begging, but you were an exception amongst many others.

your only response had been a raised, unimpressed eyebrow before you told him that you would consider it. he didn't blame you for it. it wasn't as if your relationship with his own best friend, suguru, was a secret, even if it wasn't official. but satoru had to try.

(and he had asked suguru about it already, kicking at the floorboard underneath him with an out-of-character show of shyness, until suguru had laughed at him, clapped him on the shoulder, and said, "yeah, sure. what's mine is yours and all that—if you can get him to agree, that is." so.)

but when he had asked you to show him what it meant to feel good hurt during sex, he had never expected you to do this to him—to be so mean and so fucking rough, to be so, so desperately cruel to him in ways that he had never seen you do to anyone else.

fuck, satoru thought dazedly. the position—his body bent over your lap, his ass high in the air and his cunt flushes, twitching, and so fucking exposed—had him distinctly dizzy, his head dropping at an awkward angle on the mattress but he didn't care.

he blinked away the tears in his eyes, but the slumped figure of his best friend's body passed out a behind you on the bed remained blurry. how the fuck do you handle this? he wondered.

he let out another whimper when your hand met the meat of his ass, and he could feel it fucking jiggle. he found it so humiliating, but you must think otherwise because you groped his asscheek with an air of smugness. you pried his ass apart, making him grimace when he felt his slick slide down his thigh, betraying him.

"look at you, baby," you cooed, chuckling to yourself. "you're fucking dripping all over the place. you're so desperate for it, huh? pretty virgin like you probably doesn't even know what it's like to be touched like this."

your voice was a light musing, distinctly distant and almost detached in your amusement, but satoru couldn't help but feel raw all over; an exposed nerve ready to be flayed over an open fire. he was sensitive, each inch of his skin a weakness that leaves him feel vulnerable.

"hurts," satoru croaked out miserably, feeling a bit like a fool for saying it. his words are garbled, slurred—almost watery in a way satoru hadn't known was possible before.

"hm." your hand left his hand, making a whine escape the back of satoru's throat. his voice returned to something subdued, something calmer, when he realised that you're simply moving to rest your hand on the small of his back.

"i suppose i can give you mercy," you said, your voice a low drawl that sent goosebumps racing along his skin. "just this once."

satoru couldn't help the whimper that escaped him. even through the heavy haze in his mind, he knew that he couldn't have this without a price. you always demanded an equal pay be returned for the price of your kindness. he had watched you wring dry orgasm after orgasm out of suguru, even when his best friend's body was limp, practically motionless save for the overstimulated twitches and the sobs that escaped suguru's throat, all in exchange for having satoru there with them tonight.

you must notice the sudden shift in his attitude, the way his ass was wriggling in the air almost desperately, because you snickered and your hand pressed him down harder against your lap. fuck, he thinks, feeling himself dripping all over the place at the feeling of you.

"how about this," you offered. "five more spankings, and i want you to count. if you miss one, we'll start over." your hand caressed the swell of his ass, your movements gentle as you soothed the spank marks you had left there earlier.

as much as satoru knew he shouldn't believe you, he still couldn't help the way he sniffled at the feeling and asked, "promise?"

you chuckled, the sound soft. your lips met the skin on his back, right over his spine. "sure, baby," you said. "i promise. just five more, okay? you'll be a good boy, won't you, satoru? you'll stay still for me?"

satoru nodded eagerly, chewing at this lower lip at the sound of your praise. good boy. yes, he could be your good boy. he would always be your good boy.

although he couldn't see it, he knew your smile was there when you said, "good. don't forget to count, okay, baby?" which, really, should have been the first sign of something dangerous looming.

the sound of your hand slapping his skin was promptly followed by a fucking howl that was stripped out of his throat; loud and jagged and surprised and so fucked over that satoru's head throbbed with it.

because jesus motherfucking fuck, you just slapped his cunt.

"count, baby."

satoru could barely even think past the static ringing in his air, stuffing his brain full with cloth, but he thought he might have choked out a whimpering, "one."

your hand moved once again to his cunt, he motion gentler this time. you didn't spank him again but rather, you spread his legs, exposing more of his cunt, and he whimpers in anticipation.

but your fingers only breach the lips of his cunt, spreading his labia apart to look at the slick already dripping the moment his folds were parted. you cooed at him, and satoru felt himself burning with so much fucking feelings that he couldn't even identify a proper source for it.

holy shit.

"four more," you whispered, your thumb dragging along his slit down to his clit. you rubbed it for a moment, causing satoru to whine at the feeling. "just a bit more, okay, baby?"

he didn't know if he nodded, or if he just lay there across your lap—rooted in place and feeling lightheaded, entirely motionless—but you must have found something you wanted to see from him because he could feel you moving again.

anticipating what would come after didn't make it any easier to handle.

your palm met the centre of his cunt perfectly, the tips of your fingers catching his clit, and satoru sobbed. "two," he quickly scrambled to rasp out before you could make him repeat it, before you could make him start all over. "two, that's—" he catches his breath, tongue feeling swollen in his mouth. "that's two."

"good boy."

another slap, making his back arch and his body squirm away from the sensation. the sound was fucking disgusting, even more so now that the slick accumulating on his cunt had created a pillow for your hand to rest on, creating a loud squelching sound that made satoru's toes curl.

"three," satoru whimpered. "it hurts."

"just two more," you reassured him, your fingers grazing over his entrance but never once dipping inside. fuck. "can you do that for me?"

satoru sniffled, but he nodded. "two more," he repeated.

"good boy."

your next slap came in sharp and quick, and he barely managed to blurt out, "four." before he collapses into sobs. his body is slumped, weak and unable to even twitch.

one more, he thought. just one more.

letting out a ragged breath, satoru's voice bleeds into a high keen when he feels you pull back the hood over his clit, exposing the sensitive nerve. the realisation of what you're about to do strikes him a second, too late.

no, you're going to—

your entire fucking palm met his exposed clit, sending up a burning sensation across the length of satoru's spine. "five!" satoru shouted, a little desperate, a lot hurt, equal measures of feeling fucked right out of his mind.

"fuck, that's five. that's—" he couldn't even finish his sentence, already broken off to sobs and whimpers as his entire fucking body trembles at the feeling of it. fuck. every inch of him felt numb; all of the hurt centred on the feeling of your slap on his clit.

the world is a hazy blur of static and cotton and distance for a long moment. when satoru's world comes back into focus, he's still on your lap, but seated now, positioned in a way that saved his cunt from any accidental stimulation. his mouth parted and drool dripping down the corners of your lips, but your hands are on his his back, keeping him close, and you're murmuring sweet nothings to him.

and he must have done something—something right, something wrong—because he feels himself going weightless and then your lips are brushing over the shell of his ear, and you're telling him, "get your rest, satoru. you deserve it."

oh, satoru thought dazedly, feeling the world drift in and out of motion for a long moment. this is why. because for all your cruelty and all your harshness, you were exceptionally gentle in the aftermath. satoru's vision is blurring around the edges, but he feels you all the same—warm and present and there.

"g'night," he thought he might've slurred out.

he might imagine the feeling of your lips on his temple, but he liked to think that it was real all the same.

[lackablazeical]

Viv when she cant sexualize men and villainize women: 👹👺👺👺👹👹

Okay so this redesign was spurred by my friend who really doesn't like Adam, so I decided to do my spin on him!

First: in the Bible, it is CANON he is made from red soil/clay. Which is dark. He is not white. He is poc. Okay? Cool

Okay so other then that, mostly I just wanted to make him seem much more ethereal. I based his design on clothes the pope wears, like the fuckn. Sash things and stuff. His wings take the place of a sash and while he can use them, rarely does (a reference to his connection to the earth)

I used mostly primary colors for him, kinda nodding to the fact he's like the 'origin' person. Mostly gold tho bc why not (also contrasts the blue of heaven, and its in reference to his greedy need to put his family before god)

But also his robe has red edges like they're stained w/ blood too, and his stomach sash has a similar stain. He has very little blue to show that his true loyalties don't lie with heaven, but with his wife.

And okay, I hate how ppl will use the 'they're in hell! Ofc they curse!" Excuse but also like. Hate that some characters are sexist or whatevs. Like bro. It'd make sense characters are gonna be sexist/ableist/etc etc. Why beef w/ Adam over it. So I kept Adam being sexist, but it's moreso bc he loves his wife so much he refuses to treat any other women well, bc he's so loyal. Type to drop a door on a lady bc it's not his gf yk.

I hc that Eve is buried in pride, and has a tree growing from her body (she's not dead but more in like kinda a limbo), and that's where Heaven stays in Hell. And so Adam goes down there during exterminations to see her tree and talk to her before he has to leave again.

Adam was originally a good person, but bc of his eating of the apple (which stained his teeth), he now can't NOT indulge sin, and most often, he indulges in greed (like only doing things if he thinks he could get eve back), and wrath (the more violent side of the masculine he represents).

Also bc of this, one of his punishments from God is being blinded, unable to see God's holy light or the face of his wife ever again. He also had his wedding band finger cut off as punishment too. The rest of his fingers have golden caps, bc he is dangerous to touch bc yk. How sinful he is from eating the fruit

And the fig leaves are just cus yk. He's associated w/ em. The leaves on his head actually form a shape of ram horns since rams represent devotion to God and Adam fell bc he wasn't devoted enough

Also I will keep that Eve was made from Adam BUT comma, she took not just his rib but his liver, 10 of his fingers (he originally had 20), and his skin. Just cus yeah why not

So yeah. Love this design loads actually LMAO

[gay-dorito-dust]

I come bearing a brainrot of a relatively normal s/o for the Lin Quei bois except s/o can see dead spirits and always keep a straight face. Sometimes they act weird bc they're avoiding a really nasty looking ghost and have grown numb to it. But when the bois finally catch a glimpse at the 'ghosts' their beloved mentioned all they see is some kind of eldritch horror. (This came from my recent fascination with the manga/anime series Mieruko-Chan)

Rate my really shitty attempt at creating eldritch creatures. (Actually don’t cuz I’m mega sensitive) 🦦

Tomas Vrbada

Ever since being forced by Johnny to watch horror movies, Tomas had been scared shitless when it comes to paranormal activity.

Ghosts, poltergeists, you name it, Tomas is scared of them all.

So when you -his seemingly normal but beloved partner- have been intentionally avoiding a certain spot in the Lin Kuei, shifting your gaze over in it’s direction now and then before ignoring it completely with a straight face, he didn’t think much do it at frisky but the more and more it has became the more Tomas started to feel an indescribable feeling within his chest.

It was the same feeling that he would often get when having been forced to watch a horror movie with Johny, that feeling where he knew something scary was about about to happen, which only worsened the longer the scene continued to build and ramp up the tension and to have him too scared to even look over his own shoulder; only to near enough be scared shitless a second later and loose hold of his popcorn.

Needless to say Tomas had been forced to watch one too many movie where the protagonist was somewhat clairvoyant to known that when you were giving a very specific area, out of the entire Lin Kuei no less, an cautious look. He knew better then to ever indulge in any amount of curiosity that he may have, even if it was a smidge, he would pretended that he saw nothing and would go about his day like normal. He wasn’t about to become one of those stupid characters who’d willingly go into a house that was very clearly haunted by visage alone!

He’s following your example right down to a T! He honestly doesn’t want to know what was lurking in that corner and he wasn’t particularly all that eager to find out either. Tomas would rather life the rest of his life in ignorant bliss if he could, but unfortunately for him that wasn’t going to be the case, for he had found himself having to go to that very room to get something for his brothers. However as soon as he opened the door, Tomas caught a glimpse of the thing in the corner that you’ve ominously warned him about.

It was hideous, so hideous in fact the sight of it made Tomas want to gag but he knew he couldn’t, so he slapped a hand over his mouth. The creature had bore the appearance of a pure bred Russian bear dog, but unfortunately for Tomas, that’s pretty much where the similarities started and stopped; For it had clusters of small, almost peddle sized eyes that were black as night taking up it’s entire face.

That wasn’t all, when the creature opened it’s mouth -if Tomas could even call it that- it’s stomach would rip open just as a thousand pair of what could only be described as human hands emerged out from said stomach, palms laying flat on the floor, as they began to shuffle across the floor in search of something. One particular pair of hands almost came into contact with Tomas’ foot, almost making him scream, but upon realising that their search efforts bore no fruit, the hands then retracted back into the creatures stomach, where it would then close itself up as though someone had just zipped it shut from the inside, before moving towards a different part of the room.

Scared out of his wits, Tomas bolted out of the room, completely forgetting what he had originally went there for, and just ran as fast as he could. He ran even when his legs began to hurt, he ran even when his lungs were begging for breath and he ran even when he had all but forgotten why he was even running in the first place. Tomas didn’t stop running until he saw you heading towards him, his brothers probably sent you to see what was taking him so long, and without a second thought; Tomas held you in his arms tightly, burying his head deep into your neck as he whispered.

‘How can you bare to seeing these things on a daily basis.’ The image of that thing was forcefully seared into Tomas’ mind, haunting him forever.

You didn’t have to ask further details as to what it was that he saw and instead reciprocated his hug, stroking the hairs at the back of his neck reassuringly, whilst pressing kisses into the side of his head where your would then rest your cheek against. ‘I don’t.’ You replied, looking straight ahead at the creature just as it poked it’s head out of the door, staring at you with all of their small beady black eyes before slinking off into the room across through the wall.

Kuai Liang

Concerned was a word that was often used to describe what Kuai Liang felt whenever you would shuffle closer towards his back, you might as well have been hiding, when passing down a particular hallway as your eyes were focused forward. Almost as though you were avoiding looking at something you didn’t like by pretending it didn’t exist.

Kuai Liang was aware of your uncanny ability to see the dead as you did the living, it was one of the things you disclosed to him upon first meeting, and even recalled the stories you’d tell him regarding the kinds of ghosts you’ve come across. Upon further questioning as to what they looked like you told Kuai Liang that most were human or humanoid in figure, but others went beyond the realm of human comprehension.

The latter of the two kinds were the ones you tended to avoid having direct contact with the most and this most recent one was no different.

‘Is it them, my love?’ Kuai Liang asked, looking over his shoulder at you worriedly.

You hummed. ‘They’re always with us, following but they most like to stay here and watch everyone who passes by.’

Kuai Liang pursed his lips at this new tidbit of information, whilst concerning learning this was, he was concerned about was getting you out of this hallway a lot more. Just as he was reaching back to grab your hand, Kuai Liang caught slight movement from out of the corner of his eye but before you could say anything, his eyes were already locked onto the other side of the hallway; more specifically the area you purposefully avoid looking towards every time you have to come down this hallway.

Kuai Liang remembered you telling him that It shouldn’t be possible for him see what you see, but it wasn’t uncommon for ghost to become temporarily visible. So with that in mind Kuai Liang could only deduct that what he was seeing before him what you regarded as a type two ghost; In all honesty the word ghost didn’t quite seem to match what he was currently seeing.

The creature in question was about his height, maybe a little shorter, then again he wasn’t quite sure considering it was sort of slouched. It appeared human enough in its physique, but something deep inside Kuai Liang told him that what was standing before him was far from human. He just couldn’t escape this deeply unsettling feeling that continued to grown within his chest the longer he continued to look. A sharp snapping sort of sound caught his ear, and in an instant his senses sharpened as Kuai Liang watched to see the creature viciously attempting in tearing it’s own face off with it’s hands that were infused with needles, as though desperate to get it off, to reveal…a smooth porcelain like mask beneath shredded and stringy bits of it’s former face.

As if watching that wasn’t enough the lower half of the smooth porcelain mask began to crack, a jagged fissure spread from one end to another like it was forming itself a mouth but once it had finished, the crack like mouth then began to open to reveal an endlessly dark void beneath and just before it could even think to speak; you quickly grabbed Kuai Liang’s hand and pulled him down the hallway until you were a safe distance from the creature. You could tell that seeing something like that had gotten to Kuai Liang, even if it was by a little margin.

‘Are you okay?’ You asked, squeezing his hand.

‘I fear for you little flame.’ Kuai Liang admitted. ‘Your gift for seeing these things, I worry that it will plunge you into the darkest depth that not even my fire would be nearly enough to guide you out safely.’ You smiled sympathetically at his concern. ‘As long as I don’t acknowledge them or give them a line of communication, then there’s nothing to worry about.’ You reassured him but you could tell that it wasn’t enough with the way his brows furrowed deeper with worry. ‘Doesn’t mean that I wont still worry about you.’ He utters, tightening his grip on your hand, afraid to let go.

‘I’m not expecting you to because no matter what I know you’ll always worry about me but I promise when I tell you that no harm can come to me if I don’t incite it. I’ve lived with this my entire life, all I ask of you is to trust me.’ You practically begged as you stared Kuai Liang deep into his eyes and watched as he sighed before pressing his head against your own. ‘I trust you with my life, little flame.’ He says in a hushed whisper. ‘However it’s within my duty to protect you from all harm, living or not.’ You smiled at his warm words, closing your eyes as you learnt in towards his natural warmth.

‘Then at least let me protect you from time to time.’ You cheeked, causing Kuai Liang to let out a deep chuckle as he pressed a little kiss to your lips. ‘I won’t make any promises.’ He cheeked.

Bi-Han

Now Bi-Han wouldn’t say he whether he did or didn’t believe in ghosts, but even if he did he wouldn’t be one to actively try to prove their existence. He was the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, he had no time for such childish ridiculousness, not when there were more pressing matters that were more worthy of his time and effort anyway.

However when you first told him that you could see ghosts, Bi-Han didn’t know what to make of it, he’s not one to discredit your abilities in anyway shape or form. He’s not like Tomas who watches one too many horror movies and starts flinching at every subtle creak or groan of the floorboards. Yet that doesn’t mean he didn’t find your power intriguing because after all Bi-Han is a man who strives to know more, he strives for knowledge and so he would take this opportunity to fully understand how exactly your power works.

He even takes note how you purposefully ignore an area with everything you had, keeping your head down or eyes facing forward whenever you had to go anywhere near it, coming out of the room with a straight face as though you weren’t fazed but Bi-Han was well trained in knowing when his intended target was lying and or on edge. Upon asking why you were avoiding that specific part of the Lin Kuei, he took in everything you told him about the ghost that you encountered, engraving every last detail it into his head as to paint himself a picture, but even then Bi-Han doesn’t think it remotely resembles the creature that you saw.

Never did he think that he would ever see it for himself but one day he did indeed find himself staring into the unsettlingly large, bulging eyes of the creature as it breathed heavily, as though it was severely out of breath and was just now recovering. It was about half his size and had hair covering everywhere…well except its midsection, which was all just leathery skin that rose and fell with its breathing pattern. It’s hands were human but everything else about it wasn’t, it had lost it’s lower mouth, leaving only it’s top row of sharp teeth; making the question of how it could possibly eat or consume anything to Bi-Han’s morbid curiosity.

The creature then proceeded to close the distance between the two of them and all Bi-Han could smell was death, blood and rotting flesh but he wasn’t fazed. He was aware of what the creature was doing and wasn’t about to give it the reaction it so desperately wanted, he was above these childish attempts of intimidation; So in retaliation Bi-Han only narrowed his eyes, presenting himself in a way that told the creature that he could see what it was doing and that he was above such tactics. He could see why you’d avoid looking upon these things, they could send a weaker minded person to the brink of insanity upon first glance, but Bi-Han was made of much tougher material to succumb to such.

The creature backed of, finding no enjoyment in this at all, and left the room through the wall on all fours for much weaker prey, looking like some dog with a sever case of mange.

Later that day where you and Bi-Han were settling down for the night, Bi-Han then decided to admit to what he saw prior, not liking to keep such things from you especially when it’s in regards to your powers. ‘I saw it.’ He said point blank as he stroked your back and it took you a moment to realise what he had meant by that before a look of realisation spread across your face. ‘You did? I thought that wasn’t possible.’ You replied.

‘It was only a glimpse but what I saw, I saw it as clear as I see anything else.’ Bi-Han told you, wondering how it was that you could keep your psyche intact when seeing such vile creatures on a daily basis. He even wondered if you’ve seen some that were even more grotesque then the one he had encountered earlier.

‘Not exactly a pleasant sight are they?’ You joked, looking at him with a small smile, knowing firsthand how unnerving it was to know that such things could possibly exist, even though you did finally mange to find a routine you had followed religiously in the events where you did happen to encounter them. Unfortunately It never truly gets rid of your first experience with seeing them for the first time, firmly believing that you were going to die due to how horrific and fear inducing they were.

‘No, I’m guessing that I’m right in assuming that this one pales in comparison to others you’ve had the misfortune of seeing?’ Bi-Han asked, watching your every expression like a that of a hawk. ‘Way worse.’ You responded as you snuggle yourself deeper into his chest, closing your eyes to avoid looking at the glowing pair of eyes that peered into yours and Bi-Han’s room.

[nqmonarch]

Like this man is so sad I just wanna hug him and hold him and tell him everything will be okay but I can't because he's not real. Therefore fanfiction.

Minor spoilers for Jing Liu quest

Comforting Jing Yuan through the screen

To feel lonely, is a common feeling. One that nearly everyone has experienced in their life. So of course, when it was one of those nights you find yourself more than ever sympathizing with Jing Yuan. For a character in a video game, that reminds you too much of yourself.

Originally the only thing that drew your attention to him was his looks. The constant relaxed grin and posture showcasing his confidence, his clothes fit him well showing his competency and also highly attractive body, and he had a badass lion by his side in the splash art. He was just plain pretty. And lightning lord was badass to use in combat. Even if he didn't do much damage it felt like he did damage, at least he did damage to your heart.

Then the lore-- oh my gosh the lore. The only one of his friend group to remember them completely and have to bare the brunt of the pain all while fearlessly and confidently leading however many people were on the Xianzhou. He was lonely. Terribly so. Maybe not in the same way you were lonely but the two of you could be lonely, together.

Whenever he appeared on your screen during a TrailBlaze or Companion quest, your fingers embarrassingly drifted to his hair touching the screen gently. Feeling nothing but cool plastic against your fingers.

Jing Yuan, on the other hand, felt a very strange sensation. Jing Yuan and his three friends were reunited again, yet they never fully could be. Dan Heng was not Dan Feng, as much as it hurt to remember. Yingxing held no memory of the past. Jing Liu left to fight against mara. Blade and Jing Liu had engaged in combat again, air rushing around the two of them at alarming speeds and all Jing Yuan could do is watch. It was all he could ever do.

Then even as the air grew colder and picked up with each clang of the blades, Jing Yuan felt warmth surround him, a hand resting on his head in an attempt to comfort him. He wasn't alone. He wasn't quite sure what kept causing all these strange occurrences, the sudden bursts of warmth when he ran into old friends and felt alone.

Then there was the sudden burst of strength he had, he'd always been strong but each swing of the blade felt effortless now and came faster, more precise, more accurate. But lastly was the strange feeling of comfort, sometimes while he was indulged in that feeling a cut or two would appear on his body only to be healed. His body felt no pain. There'd been a few times when he'd passed out, astounded as blood appeared before him, and he'd wake up moments later perfectly fine.

He wasn't sure exactly what the cause of it all was but he didn't feel quite as alone anymore.

And for some reason, neither did you.

You felt discomfort slink up your spine and rest in your shoulders. It felt like someone was watching you but, no one was around. You turned your attention back to Honkai Star Rail, as you watched lightning lord crash down and hit the enemies.

[azulazenin]

All Good Things Come In Three Four

Kinktober 2024 | Voyeurism/Exhibitionism

Pairing: Adrian Tepes/Alucard x Original Character (Mihaela Karnstein) | Trevor Belmont x Sypha Belnades

Summary: Sypha wants to fuck Adrian's wife, but all she's allowed to do is watch

Warnings: Explicit content, minor blood kink, (sort of) group sex. Minors DNI

A/N: This is an extra for my story The Blackest Day and its sequel Swan Song.

1478

That lovely spring evening began with the two couples sharing a pleasant meal in the private dining room in Adrian and Mihaela’s wing, a meal Adrian himself had prepared with a little help from Sypha while Trevor and Mihaela sat at the table, chatting and drinking wine, watching their spouses cook.

When dinner was over, the four of them moved to the living room, where they entertained themselves with board games and more wine, none of them actually paying attention to the alarming amount they were having, but by the morning, they would find four empty bottles on the floor. They probably shouldn’t have drink that much, but it was Trevor and Sypha first night off in six months, their first time away from a crying baby and dirty diapers ever since their son was born, so one could guess why they wanted to enjoy every second of it, and why their friends chose to join their fun.

Be as it may, at one point in the night, the four of them found themselves scattered over the couch, way too close to each other, amusing Mihaela with tales of the day the other three met, almost two years ago.

“And then Alucard threw his sword away and punched Trevor to the ground.” Sypha said, her face flushed and warm from all the wine she drank. “Back then it kinda scared me, but looking back, I find it quite sexy if you ask me, to pin your said rival against the floor and bare your teeth for him.”

Mihaela chuckled, the alcohol clouding her jealousy. “Are you saying you enjoy watching your husband being manhandled, Sypha?”

“Actually, I do. You don’t?”

“To watch my husband being manhandled? Only when I’m the one doing it.”

No one gets to touch him but me goes unsaid, and she hears Trevor’s hoarse laugh and Adrian clicking his tongue in embarrassment. She’s not usually vocal about her preferences in bed, those are for her and Adrian to know and them alone, but of late she has been growing comfortable in the presence of her friends, enough to share a thing or two about her intimacy.

“Well then...” Sypha smirked, her hand, once resting on Mihaela’s knee, wandering a little higher until it reached her inner thigh. “Would you like to humor us?”

“Sypha!” Adrian hissed, pulling Mihaela into him and away from the Speaker’s touch, as if she were about to steal his wife.

The dhampir’s cheeks went red. The wine has made Sypha bold, but Mihaela could tell her friend had been wanting to make a move for quite a while now. Sypha was not in love with her, far from it actually, the Speaker had always been head over heels for her hunter, but her marriage to Trevor wasn’t exactly exclusive. Not that the Belmont would let his wife sleep with just anyone, but he had no problem letting her indulge with people like Greta sometimes… or their best friend’s wife. He couldn’t say he never thought about watching the two of them together.

“I’m off limits, my dear.” Mihaela declined, glancing at her apologetically. She knew Speakers had a different view on it, but she didn’t have it on her to be shared, much less share her husband, they were too possessive of each other to engage in such things.

“Ha! The two of you are no fun at all.” Trevor laughed, half drunk already, pulling Sypha on a straddling position over his lap and assaulting her lips with a hungry kiss.

Adrian and Mihaela’s mouths fell open as they stared at the couple in utter shock. Trevor had Sypha trapped in his strong grip, his hands moving all over her body, shamelessly groping at her ass as she pulled his hair and grind his thigh, moaning into his mouth, causing the watching couple to blush further. Mihaela felt a turmoil in the pit of her stomach, a heat that went lower and lower until she realized what was going on with her body, filling her heart with such guilt that almost had her hiding her face on Adrian’s chest like a frigid maiden.

“They’re really gonna do it on my couch?” She wondered aloud, looking back to her husband in an attempt to get distracted from the scene in front of her.

But Adrian’s state was no better than hers. While Mihaela’s response to the display of carnal desire could be hidden, his could not, and he caught himself wanting to go back to his coffin and sleep for another year instead of explaining to his wife why there was a growing bulge under his pants.

“...Adrian!” Mihaela said his name in disbelief, her guilt turning into astonishment.

“I’m s-sorry!” He stuttered, grabbing her hands in desperation. “I can’t control it… it’s just a physical reaction my love, I promise I don’t...”

She pressed a finger over his lips, shutting him up. The terrified look in his eyes, his fear for being caught doing something he thought might have hurt her made her heart ache, and she regretted having scolded him. She couldn’t judge her husband, not when her own body reacted the same as his at a sight none of them had seen before, at the sight of two other people, two other very good looking people, being intimate.

“It’s alright. It is… normal, I guess.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“No, darling. Actually, I...” She found herself unable to finish the sentence, certain that all the blood in her body went to her cheeks.

“Oh… you too?” He asked, both surprised and relieved for not being the only one getting turned on by watching his friends.

Mihaela nodded, looking down at their intertwined hands, shame and randiness mixing into one powerful feeling.

“Do you want to go back to our room?” Adrian offered, half of him wanting to escape with Mihaela and do something about his painful erection, and the other half wanting to stay and watch like a creep voyeur.

“I don’t know...”

“Why are you making a fuss over it? It’s only sex.” Trevor mocked, delighting in his friends’ embarrassment. “I didn’t think vampires of all creatures would be so prude.” The hunter pulled Sypha’s robes down with ease, leaving the Speaker’s upper body completely bare.

“We’re not prude!” Mihaela protested, unable to move her gaze from Sypha’s exposed breasts. She had been with a woman only once in her life, in her long gone teenagehood, a few years before she wed Adrian, and she didn’t even get the whole thing done with the girl, but now she wondered how would’ve been like if she had, what it would feel like to put her lips around the softness of another woman’s nipples. “We just don’t like sharing. Have you ever heard of exclusivity?”

“Then you’re missing out.” Sypha said, drunkenness evident in her expression. “There’s so many good experiences when you s-share!” She whined, feeling her husband’s mouth around her tits.

Mihaela bit on her lip, sinking her fangs on her lips trying to stop herself from moaning, but the little sound she made didn’t go unnoticed by Adrian, nor the droplets of blood running down her chin. He gently turned her face back to him, running his thumb over the already healing wound.

“Let me help you...” Adrian licked the blood off her chin, kissing from her jaw up to her lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth.

Mihaela parted her lips to welcome him, moving her tongue against his as she tried to taste the blood he had sucked from her wound, listening to Trevor groaning in satisfaction.

“Oh, did you guys change your minds?” Sypha asked sweetly, feigning innocence.

The dhampir couple broke the kiss. “You’re not gonna fuck my wife, Sypha, forget about it.” Adrian answered, his previous shyness and reluctance giving way to mischievousness. “But since you’re my dear friend, I’ll let you watch.”

Adrian pushed Mihaela to lay on her back, locking eyes with her for a moment, searching for any signs of reluctance. There was none, she gave him a nod of approval and he immediately leaned in to suck on the skin of her neck.

Mihaela couldn’t see the couple with Adrian on top of her, but she heard Sypha whining again, unsure if it was for the show Adrian was only beginning to put up or because Trevor had his mouth on her again, but the sound was so alluring it had the dhampir moaning too, clinging to Adrian in a silent plea for him to make the ache in her core go away.

His lips went from her neck to her chest, teasing the parts of her breasts the dress did not cover, and his skillful hands wasted no time finding their way to remove her clothes. Soon, he had her fancy dress laying on the floor, leaving her only with the sleeveless chemise and a pair of socks.

Adrian’s gaze moved from his wife to his friends for a second, a smirk appearing on his lips when he saw the state of nakedness they already were, deciding Mihaela should see it too. In a quick move, he pulled her up to her knees and turned her round to face the other two, utterly satisfied with her reaction: almost falling back on the couch in all fours, Mihaela let out an indecent noise at the sight of Sypha stripped to the bone, leaning on Trevor’s strong, bare chest as he rubbed the bundle of nerves in between her wide spread legs. To make the game even, Adrian grabbed the chemise's handles and slid it down Mihaela’s body, his mind conjuring a pop sound when her tits fell free from the clothe.

“Oh damn...” Sypha whimpered, her mouth salivating for the sweet fruit sprouting from her friend’s chest. She often wondered what those breasts looked like out of the tight cleavages on the luxurious dresses, and to see the round, soft flesh and the rosy, hardened nipples right in front of her eyes was a dream come true as much as not being allowed to touch was a sweet torture.

“Is she like you imagined?” Trevor whispered, nibbling on her earlobe.

“Better. She’s much better...”

Adrian’s cock pulsed in his pants, the jealousy from knowing his friend had fantasized about his wife before was strangely arousing, the notion that his woman was desired by many but belonged to him and him alone making impossible for him to control himself. Grunting with lust, he manhandled her – just like she said she liked doing with him – to lay on her back again, but closer to the couple this time.

Mihaela’s head landed right next to Trevor’s thigh, the perfect spot for him and Sypha to watch her being railed, and for her to look back at them. Hovering over her, Adrian got rid of his clothes in a hurry, surprised that Mihaela wasn’t the only one gasping when freed his hard, aching cock. How innocent of him to have thought Trevor’s jokes about being sucked dry by a vampire were only jokes.

But he’d never be able to fulfill Trevor’s desires, nor let Sypha indulge hers, best he could do was give them a little taste of what they wanted.

His hands were on Mihaela again, pulling the soaked panties off of her, grabbing her knees to push her legs apart. He licked his own lips at the sight of her dripping cunt, kneeling in between her tights, holding his dick in his hand, brushing its tip against her entrance, making her whine with impatience.

“Don’t t-tease!”

Adrian chuckled, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Yes, my love. As you wish.”

One push and he was inside of her, his length slipping its way up to be enveloped by her tight warmth. A collective gasp echoed around the room, each of them delighting on the sensation of fucking, of being fucked, of watching. Adrian clutching her waist, already moving into her; Mihaela writhing beneath him, her tits bouncing up and down along with his pounding; Sypha’s lips parting, her walls clenching, wanting to be the one to cause the other woman to moan; Trevor grinning at it all, unzipping his pants to free his dick and rub it against Sypha’s ass, his fingers once pressing on her clit, now buried inside her pussy, in and out, mimicking Adrian’s thrusts.

“You… m-mean vampire, Alucard.” Sypha accused, pushing her hips against her husband’s fingers. “You won’t let me touch her!”

He smiled teasingly at her, showing his fangs. “She’s mine, Sypha.” He palmed at Mihaela’s breast, fondling, aware it was the part Sypha wanted to feel the most. “Only mine.”

Adrian increased the pace, touching all the right spots on his wife’s body to make her come undone, creating a symphony made of her little sounds of pleasure, the contact of their skins and the wet noise of her cunt being pound. Mihaela looked up at him with pleading eyes, sticking out her tongue, waiting for him to take the hint and give her what she wanted.

“You want to taste me, darling?”

She nodded a little too desperately. “Yes, y-yes please...”

Not needing to be told twice, he let go of her breast and brought his fingers close to her mouth, his index growing a claw he used to cut his palm and pour the flowing blood over her tongue, feeding her until the wound closed and he shoved two of fingers in her mouth, making her suck what was left of it.

“Argh! You goddamn freaks!” Trevor groaned, both turned on and repulsed by what they did. In search of his own release, he removed his fingers from Sypha’s cunt and fixed her to ride his cock.

His large hands groping her waist, bouncing her up and down his length, rough just the way she liked it. Mihaela watched in awe, her moans muffled by Adrian’s fingers in her mouth, drinking in all details of Sypha’s soft, delicate body in contrast to Trevor’s, realizing overly masculine men did have their perks, though she still preferred sweeter ones, like her dear husband.

Her gaze alternated between him and the couple, enjoying every bit of the predicament she’d probably never find herself into again, her pleasure weirdly increasing from being observed, her walls squeezing Adrian’s cock each time she caught Sypha looking at her with want. She was nearing her peak, the heat building in her womb announcing her upcoming orgasm.

Noticing how close she was, Adrian removed his fingers from her mouth and tangled his tongue with hers in a sloppy, needy kiss as he fucked her harder, faster, holding back his own explosion in order to feel hers first. It was only when she clenched around him one last time and creamed all over him that he withdrew and jerked off his orgasm, finishing on her stomach.

He fell next to her on the couch, hugging her side as they watched the other couple intently, smirking together when Sypha squirted and Trevor came into her, holding her in place until he emptied himself, making sure not even a drop of his seed was wasted.

“My god,” Mihaela spoke in a wave of silliness. “I think we just witnessed the conception of the next Belmont.”

Giggling, she hid her face in her hands, listening to the other three bursting into laughter. Everything about that night was atypical, from the unusual collective drunkenness to the shared intimacy and, at the end of the night, falling asleep together in a big cuddly pile. They would only return to their senses by the morning, when Greta’s indignant voice woke them up from their slumber.

“I can’t believe you guys had an orgy and didn’t invite me!”

[peonyneko]

To Know You Pt.1? | OldestSon!Nanami x YoungestDaughter!Reader

MDNI!!! PLEASE!

Note: Okay, this is going to be VERY self-indulgent, but if you enjoy it... Thank you very much. My writing is very rusty because it's been so long since I've written something. I usually just keep all my thoughts hidden in my notebook or document, but I just had to get this out. Oh! This also doesn't follow the original plot a lot, since most of the characters are alive!

Nanami is hinted to be in his mid/late 30s and reader is hinted to be in her twenties.

Warning: Arranged marriage, wedding planning, some angst??, and cursing

OldestSon!Nanami who was independent since he could remember. He helped take care of his siblings when he was younger, helping them with school and anything else. Albeit, he was not as unlucky as others, but he did notice his parents were much softer on his younger siblings than him. He was not only the eldest son, but also the eldest in general.

OldestSon!Nanami who overheard his parents talking amongst themselves, saying he’s the most reliable and rational out of all his siblings. Who felt good when his parents would thank him for doing work around the house and helping them.

OldestSon!Nanami who spent his youth being the best to take over his father’s business, with some rebellion in his blood. He had his fair share of fights with his parents because he was still their child after all.

OldestSon!Nanami who guided his younger siblings and sometimes still does. Who bought his siblings anything they’d ask for, when it’s reasonable. Who’d buy them pastries when they got yelled at. Who do indirect gestures to comfort them. Who’d lecture them when their parents didn’t, especially when it came to secrets kept from their parents.

OldestSon!Nanami who fully moved out at 22 and spent his twenties just… working, saving up money. Clocking in. Clocking out. Now, in his thirties, not married, while his other siblings were all engaged or married. He did feel a little jealous. Just a little.

OldestSon!Nanami, who wanted to get married after falling in love, but life did not go as planned. So there he was, nodding and agreeing to the proposal his parents brought to him. 

But he didn’t expect everything to happen so… quick! He didn’t even know who you were, but his mom seemed to love you. She’d compliment you any chance she got, so he goes along with it.

OldestSon!Nanami, who officially saw you for the first time on the day of the wedding planning, where you requested the wedding be only with family and friends. He was grateful. 

But good lord, if your photos were pretty, then he had to peel his eyes off of you to make sure he didn’t stare. 

OldestSon!Nanami, who wanted to deeply thank whoever chose your outfit that day. Only then to figure out, overhearing you and Gojo talk, that you actually love fashion and dressing up, all the time. 

OldestSon!Nanami, who noticed your jewelry matched his eyes and his heart hummed a little. He must be overthinking it. 

YoungestDaughter!Reader who went through so, so many looks to make sure he’d like it. Panicking even on the day of because “What if he hates it?” Your friends raising their brows ready to claw his heart out if he even raised a single issue about it. They’d never seen you act like this. 

YoungestDaughter!Reader who did, in fact, choose the jewelry to match his eyes. Not because you’re in love! But there was something about him… you don’t know what!

OldestSon!Nanami, who wanted to not judge you from your birth position as the youngest of your siblings, but (judging and hearing from others) the youngests are often rude and spoiled. He chuckles knowing his own sibling is like that, minus the rude part. They’re just… blunt.

Still, he made sure you were okay and comfortable during the planning. Nanami just hoped you both wouldn’t clash from your differences

YoungestDaughter!Reader slowly felt her heart flutter just the tiniest bit a his kind gestures, despite being guarded. Bare minimum, but thoughtful nonetheless.

OldestSon!Nanami, who was shocked that your parents wanted you to get married so soon after the proposal, but according to your parents and his, “The clock is ticking.” In a month?! You obliged and he, who had been hesitant at first, also agreed.

OldestSon!Nanami managed to take you out only once before the wedding. For him, no feelings were involved. It was to a fancy restaurant, where he paid for everything and was confused why you took your card out. Who noticed the faint blush on your cheeks when you put your card back. He didn’t comment or ask you about it, thinking you did not want to be asked. You were glad he didn’t.

OldestSon!Nanami stupidly asked you about everything except yourself! Checking if you ate. Checking if planning if going smooth. If your parent(s) and family members are okay. Everything except yourself. He, too, only spoke of everything except himself. Okay, actually maybe you did talk about yourselves, but it was only about your professions… Does that even count?

OldestSon!Nanami who took you for a walk through a beautiful public garden lit up with pretty lights. Who couldn't help but take a photo of you leaning down to take a good look at the flowers. One without you noticing, another when you caught him with his phone up and you gave him a sheepish smile for the photo.

In the three hours you were together, he had intrigued you and you’d intrigued him, but it goes nowhere else. 

OldestSon!Nanami who, by the end of the date, when driving you home apologized. “I may not be the love you're looking for and… I can’t guarantee love will flourish, but I will treat you with nothing but respect and care. If you want to break off the wedding, I would never hold it against you,” he whispered. 

Dropping you off home utterly confused and even a little sad. A mixture of emotions, actually a circus of emotions. Both good and bad.

YoungestDaughter!Reader who couldn’t sleep from the thought of Nanami being unhappy in the marriage. You were close to breaking it off, only to stop when your family looked so happy and sad sitting in the living room, because you’d finally agreed to marry!

OldestSon!Nanami and you both see each other in the wedding venue and he could faint right then and there because of how insanely pretty you look. He could barely handle the heat that rose to his cheek whenever you’d give him that sheepish, awkward smile.

So, so pretty! Too pretty! You knew what fit you.

You, too, bursting for the inside over how good he looked in the color you picked out. 

OldestSon!Nanami who continuously stole glances throughout the night and found himself intrigued by your voice and whenever you spoke.

OldestSon!Nanami, who damn nearly broke off the marriage after hearing about your age from Gojo, who had asked one of the bridesmaids for your age. Gojo then proceeded to make a joke about Nanami being a pervert.

OldestSon!Nanami, who now felt bad marrying you, wanted to apologize if you felt obligated to marry him. Who wondered why his parents would want such an age gap for his marriage. I mean… yes you both are adults but 12 years?!

“Didn’t you know?” Gojo snicked, only to raise a brow when Nanami shook his head.

“I assumed we’d be a few years apart.” Nanami admits his fault.

Gojo laughed. “She even looks her age, you idiot. Did you even ask her?”

OldestSon!Nanami who felt his stomach drop when the realization set in. He never asked you much about yourself. About your job, yes. But not… you. Not because he didn’t want to but your conversations never went there. In the hours you two were alone, which was albeit awkward, the conversation flowed from one topic to another without ever crossing into anything particularly about you or him. 

OldestSon!Nanami felt a burn in his chest when he saw Geto and Gojo talking to you. You gave them a cute smile too. He wanted that.

OldestSon!Nanami put the ring on your finger with the gentlest hands. You felt your heart swell.  He felt your hands return that softness and he almost cracked a smile when your finger brushed over his ring with gentle eyes, as if to comfort him and say, “I don’t regret it.”

OldestSon!Nanami and you were happy the wedding went smoothly. Much more smooth than Nanami thought it would. Nothing was out of place. Everything went as planned, and when things went “wrong” it quickly got resolved.

There were tears, but you surprisingly didn’t cry much at all, like he expected. He thought you’d be more sad to leave with him. After all, you’re only known him only for a month and you now had to leave your family. All your older siblings were all crying, why weren’t you? But he chose not to think too much into it. Maybe you just weren’t a crier. 

OldestSon!Nanami got a pat on the back from all his friends, those who stayed with him since high school. He was the last of them all to get married, after all.

OldestSon!Nanami gave respect to your family, guaranteeing your safety. He thought you’d stall your time with them when hugging, you did for a little while, but not as long as he thought you would.

OldestSon!Nanami who was in the car with you in near silence, other than the humming of the song the driver played. You hadn’t asked him anything, and he didn’t ask you anything until… 

“Why did you marry me?” you calmly asked looking out the window. Your voice was quiet.

He stayed silent, not wanting to say anything that would give you the wrong idea. 

He took a few seconds before responding, “I… My family liked you.  If they chose you, I thought you’d be a good fit.”

“Oh,” you replied, and before he could say anything, you added onto it, “I did too. I didn’t think I’d get married this year, but… here I am.”

He licked his lips, nervous for some reason.

“Did you want a love marriage?” he casually asked, just curious. You still looked off to the side.

You shrug, “I don’t know. Maybe, but also maybe not. I didn’t think I’d get married.”

OldestSon!Nanami who agrees with you. Revealing that he wanted a love marriage, he hoped to fall in love with someone, but was okay with this too. Who reveals that he doesn’t know how this marriage would go, but he’d never hurt you. 

“You’re my wife. I’m your husband. Until the end, I will be,” he says.

OldestSon!Nanami who fails to notice the glossy pricked tears in your eyes and blushed cheeks. Because you, for some reason, foolishly thought there was something between the silent glances from the past month.

OldestSon!Nanami who guides you to the room, letting you know that he’s okay with sleeping in a different room, he’d been preparing another room anyways. Only to be shocked when you refuse.

You tell him that you don’t mind sleeping in the same bed, but you avoid his gaze when you say you just don’t want anything else happening. 

OldestSon!Nanami who helps you prepare to sleep, removing anything you need help with. In comfortable silence, with only a few grunts of his confusion with the riddle of a dress and hairdo, he helps you undress, stepping out of the room after he unzips the back of the dress. 

OldestSon!Nanami who changes in the guest room to avoid making you uncomfortable. Who looked at you for many seconds straight seeing you in your pajamas when you softly told him you were done. Cute… So, so fucking cute. OldestSon!Nanami who wondered what was the black silky thing you hid away in your duffle bag right when you saw it on the bed. Letting it go, assuming you didn’t want him to notice.

OldestSon!Nanami who sleeps next to you that night, both of you turn back to back. Not out of malice or hatred, it’s just both of you being nervous and embarrassed. 

OldestSon!Nanami went to sleep wondering what this new life would be like. Who failed to see the tears that fell from your eyes that night. 

You, who felt so, so nervous and guilty. He wanted to marry someone he loves and now he married you because his mother found out you were single. You, who wanted to apologize for getting in the way of his love story. You, who turned towards him, wondering how you can make this marriage work. Because even if you started to feel some inklings of what seemed to be like? Love? Would he return those feelings?

OldestSon!Nanami who fell later, but fell much, much harder.

---

I will probably change this up a little bit soon or fix things up, but you get the gist!

This went one MUCH longer, than I thought... Clear credits for the characters to Gege Akutami (obviously), but this plot and these versions of the character are of my own (maybe OOC sometimes), so please refrain from plagiarizing.

Thank you for reading!