#THEY EVEN GAVE HIM THAT SWEET SWEET BISEXUAL LIGHTING

[crehador]

OH MY GOD SHUT UPPPPPPPPP GINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN I DID NOT DARE HOPE FOR ANYTHING NOT EVEN A GLIMPSE BUT THEY LET ME SEE HIM THEY LET ME SEE MY LITTLE BOY HIIIIIIIIIIIIIII BABY ILYSM HOW ARE YOU I MISS YOU i’m losing my mind

[als-notebook]

one dance

Mischa becomes bold, and offers Noel a dance. (I don’t know what kind of event they’re at, I just wanted them to dance together)

Mischa Oleksandrovych Bachinski stood at the party with his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall casually. He wore a collared shirt and a dark blue tie, black dress pants, and black boots. His blazer was tied around his waist messily. He couldn’t quite remember what the formal party was even for, but he didn’t care to remember. All he knew is that he was required to go. Frankly, he was a bit annoyed. He didn’t really want to be here. But alas, here he was.

Mischa glanced casually to his left to a familiar face. It was Noel Oscar Gruber, who stood fidgeting with his hands. He wore his hair neatly done, as per usual, but unlike his typical fashion, he sported a black and red suit, neatly ironed out. He had thrifted it a week prior, Mischa knew, but you could hardly tell if it wasn’t for the mismatched shades of red of his tie and blazer.

Noel looked nervous, or perhaps a bit anxious, Mischa observed. After a few seconds of Mischa studying the boy, he looked over, meeting his eyes. Noel gave Mischa a friendly, sweet smile that made his stomach do all sorts of flips.

Mischa had suspected he might be developing a crush on Noel for a while now. He had tried to ignore it, but once he discovered his bisexuality, he knew for sure that it had to have been more than just a friend thing. He didn’t want to ruin what they had. So as he did with most things, he kept it to himself.

By now, Mischa was full-on staring at Noel. Noel waved a hand in front of his face. “You okay, Misch?” Misch. It was a simple nickname, but one he cherished every time he heard it. He would let Noel’s voice linger in his mind for as long as he could. He tried to swat the feeling away.

“Yeah. I am good,” he replied slowly. “I just… I thought you looked nice.” Mischa felt a bit daring tonight. A few compliments wouldn’t hurt, right? And he really did think he looked nice. Noel chuckled, picking at his chipped nail polish. “Ahh… Well, I would have chosen something a bit more… myself, I guess. But you know how it is.” Mischa did know what the boy meant—His mother was kind, but she tended to get worried about Noel. She didn’t want his self-esteem ruined by some immature teenagers. But little did she know, she was hurting Noel by not letting him express himself more than he ever would have been hurt by those teens making fun of it. He had trouble saying no to her, even then. Noel probably would have preferred an outfit a bit more extravagant. More unique. More… Noel.

“Well,” Mischa started, “I think the suit looks good on you.” Noel’s face flushed crimson and he smiled at Mischa even wider. Noel looked away, back to the crowd of tens under the dim, blue light. Mischa couldn’t help but smile at him, amused by his reaction. Noel looked so beautiful tonight, he thought. God, why wouldn’t these feelings go away? The comforting silence between the two lingered for a few moments that felt like eternity. A lovely, fuzzy eternity that Mischa never wanted to end.

“I wish I had someone to dance with,” Noel said casually, breaking the silence. Mischa took an abnormally shaky breath. His gaze finally left Noel, turning to the crowd, instead. Several couples had started to dance with each other. The songs became slower. The teens had become quieter.

“Maybe we can dance. Together,” Mischa said softly, his voice cracking in an uncharacteristically nervous tone. Noel glanced back at him. The lights turned red now, highlighting his warm brown eyes. They almost shimmered like sweet red wine.

“You would dance with me?” Noel asked, turning his body towards Mischa. 

“If you want to,” Mischa stuttered out. Was his accent a little more obvious, or was it just him? Did Noel also feel his blood rushing to his face so fast he might faint?

Noel smiled at him. A sweet smile, as if coated in honey. One that might make Mischa sick if he took it in all at once. His body was turned toward Noel, now, but he looked away, casually. He brought his hand to the back of his neck, which was cool from sweat. Mischa took his hand off of it, wiping it on his pant leg. “I’d love to dance with you. I didn’t know you could dance,” Noel said, a teasing tone in his voice. Mischa wore a crooked smile.

“Hah… Yes. My mother taught me.” When Mischa spoke of his mother, he usually had a sad tone to his voice. Tonight, he simply smiled, reminiscing. “That’s sweet,” Noel replied, tilting his head and studying Mischa’s face. Mischa looked back at him, once again meeting his eyes. Mischa held out his right hand to Noel, smirking playfully. “Shall we?”

Noel put his hand to his chest, grinning. “What a gentleman!” The other boy took Mischa’s hand, and Mischa pulled him closer. He put his left hand gently around Noel’s waist. Noel reached up, putting his right hand on Mischa’s shoulder. Noel looked at Mischa with an expression that could only be described as admiration. Mischa looked back at him longingly, as they began to step to the rhythm of the music. The lights changed to a lovely shade of lavender.

Occasionally, Mischa would let go of Noel’s waist and lift his hand in the air, prompting him to do a spin. When he turned back to Mischa, he fell right back into his hands, as if a puzzle, finally complete. Mischa couldn’t keep his eyes off of Noel. And it seemed neither could Noel keep his eyes off of Mischa.

Their sweet moment quickly became bitter at the sound of a boy muttering something under his breath.

Noel’s loving gaze shifted to a horrified one. He was like a deer in headlights. Noel looked over at the boy, still holding Mischa’s hand with his other hand on his shoulder. Mischa looked at Noel, and then the boy, confused. He had heard him whisper something, but he couldn’t quite make it out. 

Now, Mischa noticed that several other couples were staring at him and Noel as if they had two heads. He looked puzzled and confused. What could possibly be wrong with this? Noel looked around, almost in a panicked or embarrassed state. The normally confident boy suddenly seemed so… self conscious. Mischa looked at him, concerned. “Are you okay?” Noel didn’t reply to him, but rather addressed the third boy. “What did you just call me?”

The boy scoffed and rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his friends. But he still glared at them briefly. Noel’s eyebrows furrowed, and he bit his bottom lip, looking back at Mischa. His eyes sparkled with dozens of emotions–some kind of mix of horror, humiliation, embarrassment, sadness, anger… Mischa’s eyes locked on his, soft and empathetic, even though he didn’t really understand what was going on. “Are you okay?” Mischa repeated, tightening his grip on Noel’s hand. “What did he say?” Noel frowned, his own grip loosening. “He called us–” Noel began, his voice quickly getting caught in his throat. Tears welled up in the other boy’s eyes, and he slipped away from Mischa, quickly leaving the room. “Noel?” Mischa said, defeated. His arms dropped to his sides, and he stared at the direction Noel left from, not really knowing what to do. He turned to look at the boy and his friends, frankly pissed off; “Fuck you, asshole.” He flipped them off, and they laughed at him mockingly as he walked away, unbothered by their extra torment. 

Mischa found Noel right outside, away from the crowds in the dark. He was crying. Mischa frowned, and set a hand on his shoulder, letting him know he was there. Startled, Noel sucked in a breath, turning to face Mischa. Despite his tears, Mischa still couldn’t help but find Noel so, so beautiful under the bright moonlight.

Noel sniffled and wiped his tears away with his sleeve. “I didn’t think you would follow me.” Mischa smiled sheepishly, almost amused Noel would think such a thing. “Of course I followed you,” he said, “I would follow you to the ends of the Earth.”

Noel stared at him, doe-eyed. The poet seemed shocked by Mischa’s words, almost befuddled he’d come up with something so romantic. “...That’s beautiful,” he remarked, now turning his body toward Mischa, his gaze still locked on him. Mischa brought his hand up to touch his neck, his face dusted a light vermillion. “It is true.”

The poet smiled finally, cocking his head. He reached out to Mischa, grabbing his wrist and sliding his hand into his. Mischa simply let it happen, truthfully becoming a bit flustered. He stared at Noel with all of the love in the world, as if they were the only two people on the planet now.

“I’m sorry I acted like that,” Noel said, a little embarrassed, “it wasn’t even that big of a deal. I guess it was just… the breaking point.” Mischa chuckled, bringing his hand up to swipe a tear from the other boy’s cheek. “Do not even worry about it. I get it.”

“When did you get so sweet?” Noel questioned with a smirk, teasingly. Mischa rolled his eyes playfully, and replied, “Something about poems and red roses.” Noel smiled even wider, ear to ear, his face looking awfully rosy. He looked at Mischa for a moment, and then came closer to him, pressing a kiss onto his cheek.

Mischa grinned like a little boy. He felt relieved, refreshed. For once, he felt like he wasn’t alone anymore.

[mrsaltieri-real]

The Switch Up (Forced!Sub!Mickey Altieri X Dom!Reader)

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: 18+, language, reader is fem and afab, pure smut, dub-con, edging, teasing, orgasm denial, threats, forced sub!mickey (yes, that’s a warning) ruined orgasm, mickeys gagged and bound, insults, oral (Fem receiving), handjob, mentions of blowjobs, riding, forced submission, fingering, degrading, dacryphilia,face sitting, etc.

A/N: @darklylucid YOU. THIS IS YOUR FAULT AND I ABSOLUTELY ADORE YOU FOR IT! I haven’t had this much fun writing a fic in a very, VERY long time and I didn’t know how much I needed Mickey to be a forced sub until you sent that damn ask in. So thank you, a million times thank you! And thank you @bisexual-horror-fan for going over this for me. Love you to bits! Now strap in because holy fuck did I get wet writing this!

Mickey groaned behind the gag that had been forced into his mouth, his head falling back against the headboard as his arms thrashed around in their restraints. He felt your hand trailing across his chest, though unable to see from behind the blindfold covering his eyes.

He mumbled something unintelligible from behind the gag, flinching away from your cool fingers.

Mickey was angry. Absolutely livid that you had managed to get the drop on him. You’d tied him up after he had fallen asleep studying and had been edging him with your hands and mouth for the last hour.

Every so often, the blindfold would be lifted, the gag removed, and he’d beg like a man possessed, wide-eyed with a strange innocence you’d never thought you would see in a million years. The begging would commence, begging for him to be allowed to touch you, begging for you to touch him, you were not moved and chose to ignore him. He’d switch up to hurling insults and threats at you instead, which were just met with a scoff and an eye roll and an uttering of “What the fuck are you going to do when you’re tied up like a fucking bitch?”

You’d of course, touch yourself whilst he watched, his swollen cock leaking pre-cum from his tip as he watched your fingers dance across your clit and plunge into your hole whilst he’d watch helplessly, sweat trickling down the column of his throat.

“Fucking… Bitch.” He grunted between grit teeth, still unable to glance away for even a second.

You tutted softly, a small shake of your head and a light gasp escaping your throat as you continued to touch yourself before him. “Doesn’t sound like the words of a man who wants to stop pathetically leaking all over himself.”

His brown eyes were still flat and cold, his knuckles white from his grip on the ropes as he glared at you. If looks could kill, you’d be six feet under.

Mickey said your name before his eyes narrowed, boring until yours and clearly still trying his best to gain a sense of control in a circumstance he had absolutely none. “You’re going to regret this. I swear to fucking God, when I’m out of these, I’m gonna treat you so much fucking worse than I did before.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. His threats of retaliation only riled you up more, gave you more of an initiative to drag this out as long as you could. You dipped a finger into yourself, curling it upward to graze the spongy tissue, and you groaned, head tipping back and back arching as you thought of all the shit you were going to put Mickey through.

He said something under his breath, and you stopped touching yourself reluctantly, leaning forward with your hand hovering so close to his weeping cock, you could feel the heat radiating off of him. “Hm? What was that, sweetheart?”

His brown eyes snapped toward you sharply before they fluttered closed, and he let out a small breath before he repeated, “Please?” and breathed out your name, agonized.

“Please what?” Your tone was sweet and cloying, the smile on your lips coy as fuck.

His expression shifts, gritting out, “Stop being such a fucking cunt-“

He was cut off by the gag being forced back into his mouth and he groaned again, shouts muffled as his back arched from the bed, and he thrashed pointlessly as he shouted something that sounded like, “I fucking hate you,” from behind the gag.

“Yeah, sure you do, honey. That’s why you’ve been begging for me to make you cum for the past hour like a sad little bitch.”

His entire body was slick with sweat, his chest heaving as your fingers settled the blindfold back into place.

Your fingers trailed down his chest, down his torso, and you smiled as you felt his body begin to shake under the gentle touch. Your hand slowly took his cock again, pumping slowly, agonizingly slowly and pulling something akin to a whimper from behind the gag.

You needed to hear it.

Your other hand pulled down the gag, and you heard the delicious rambling of, “Please, baby, please.” Uttered over and over again, almost relentless, as he tried to buck up his hips to thrust himself in your hand. The switch up from his threats turning into begs and pleads never failed to amuse you.

“No, Mickey.” You chided, about to release him before he begged, “No, please don’t stop, please!”

Hearing him beg you, the man who had done a lot worse than this time and time again simply because he could, because he enjoyed having power over you, sent an aching clench to your cunt. Your leg propped up on the bed beside him as you sat in the chair beside him, your hand moved back to your pussy, sliding your hand up and down his length as you touched yourself, eyes fluttering closed as you heard his pleading.

He twitched in your hand, aching, swollen, messy. His quivering breaths turned into loud groans as you finally allowed him to be dragged closer and closer to the edge he craved more than anything.

“Mm… Fuck, dont’t stop, don’t fucking stop!” His hands gripped the ropes holding him to the bed, his head tipping back and his cock throbbing so deliciously, you were almost inclined to allow him to cum all over himself.

Almost.

The sight was enough to make you cum on your own fingers, snatching your hand away from him as you gasped and moaned, grinding yourself down on the pads of your fingers. You were well aware of the broken half whimpers Mickey panted out, his cock so hard you had zero doubt he was in pain.

Good.

You laughed, both at your own pleasure and his obvious unease. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you had no doubt they were fucking blazing behind his blindfold

He whispered something, one little word that he prayed would put an end to this, even if it meant you wouldn’t touch him, and he’d have to get himself off.

“What was that, baby?” You asked him, tone condescending and sickly sweet.

He puffed out a sigh, struggling in his restraints again. Your hand pulled down the blindfold, and you took his whole face in properly.

Mickey was nothing short of a mess. His usually bright and cocky brown eyes were welled up with tears, his cheeks and chest flushed a deep crimson. He looked into your eyes and uttered the word again.

“Passion fruit.”

His voice was strained, almost as if he was holding back tears.

Fuck, you had really fucked him up.

“Remind me, baby. Do you ever listen to me when I say my safe word?” Your hand threaded through his thick, dark hair as you spoke, twisting the strands between your fingers and tugging sharply. He let out a hiss, visibly flinching at the action, but didn’t respond.

“Don’t like it when the roles are reversed, do you?” Your other hand edged back toward his leaking cock, and he watched, eyes desperate and needy. “Beg.”

Any other day, any other circumstance he would have laughed in your face, sent a slap to your cheek or denied you from release even further. But not today, today he wanted nothing more than to just finally fucking let go.

“Fuck, please? I can’t fuc- fucking take this anymore. I’m sorry, o- okay? I’m sorry. Let me touch you, please let me cum, baby, please?”

The begging sent the fire through your core once again, your clit throbbing as you saw the tears threatening to spill. His eyes kept flickering from your face, to your bare tits, to your leaking cunt and to his painfully hard cock.

“Wanna get me off, hm?” You asked him, fingers dragging across his toned stomach.

He nodded his head quickly, flinching again when his hair was tugged by your fingers.

You smiled, standing up from the chair and pulling yourself up onto the bed so you were standing over him.

Mickey looked up at you, a flicker of confusion flashing over his features till you straddled his face, your pussy inches away from his mouth.

That was all the prompting he needed.

His lips attached themselves to your clit hungrily, a groan falling from his lips as he finally tasted you. Your hands firmly pressed palms down against the wall to steady yourself as he lapped and sucked your bundle of nerves as if it were the most delicious thing.

You didn’t want to give him much time to enjoy it. Besides, this wasn’t for him, it was for you to get revenge for the past year of him relentlessly teasing you, degrading you, edging you and denying you.

Biting back a moan and twisting it into a laugh and taking him by surprise, you scoffed, “Really, Mickey? Have you forgotten how to eat a pussy? Do it like you fucking mean it.”

He muttered something against you, pressing the tip of his tongue against your clit firmly, the pressure almost making your knees buckle as he began to gently but messily flick his tongue over you. You could feel your juices leaking out of you and dribbling down his chin. Hear the pained, desperate groans almost drowned out by your satisfied ones as you came on his face in seconds.

Once you were done with him, you settled yourself onto your knees, straddling his lap. The hardness of his cock settled between the two of you, and you smiled at him, dragging your fingers across his face, smearing your own cum across his cheeks.

Instead of the angry growls, he’d resorted to gentle whimpers that just made you all the more turned on. Fuck, you’d just about broken him. The tears must’ve begun to fall as you forced him to eat your cunt, his red rimmed eyes were wide and his cheeks wet as he begged you once again, your name babbling from his lips.

“What? I already gave you one of the things you wanted, to touch me, right? Look who's getting greedy.” Your fingers splayed across his stomach as you spoke, again inching closer to his cock. “Besides, you look so pretty when you cry.”

“I-I’m not fucking crying.” You knew the words were supposed to come out in an angry snap, but they cracked around the edges helplessly, and he sniffed once.

Maybe you could ease up on him a little.

“You want me to fuck you?” You asked him gently, hand wrapping around him so softly you may as well have not been touching him at all. But he was so pent-up that even the slightest pressure made him throb and leak uncontrollably. Fuck, he felt pathetic.

“Please.” He mumbled, only to be met with a sharp slap to the face that made him jolt, eyes widening as your fingers curled around his jaw and he was forced to look at you.

“Please what, Mickey?”

“Don’t make me beg again, I can’t, I fucking can’t take this shit.” He practically whined, beginning to tug on the restraints again. “Ple- please just make me cum, baby.”

“Does it hurt?” You asked, eyeing his angry red cock. So swollen, so full of cum, you desperately craved to paint your insides white.

“Yes, it fucking hurts, Jesus.” He said quietly. He caught on fast that when he snapped at you, he was going to get absolutely nothing. For a second, the thought flitted through his mind that maybe he needed to ease up when doing this shit to you because fuck, he couldn’t take this for much longer.

“Hmm.” You hummed softly, edging forward with your hand still pumping his cock, so your face was close to his. His brown eyes, so needy, looked back at you desperately.

Your lips crashed against his hungrily, and he eagerly reciprocated. The kiss was nothing but a messy thrashing of tongues and lips, but it’s just what he and he needed. And now you fucking needed him.

It didn’t take long before you’d shoved his cock inside of you and began to ride him, chest splayed out across his chest and your tits bouncing in his face. He looked like a man possessed, staring at you desperately as you used him for all he was worth, whilst he listened to the filth he didn’t even know you were capable of saying fall from your lips.

Every time he tried to thrust up into you, you’d stop. Every time he would speak, try and praise you, you’d stop.

He knew you knew his tells, so he tried his best to hold them back. He needed this, needed you to just let him fucking cum already.

“Fuck, your cunt feels so-“ your hand slapped across his mouth, your nails cutting into his chest and leaving small crescent shaped slices in his skin. He was close, whimpering and whining behind your hand, By the time he realized what you were doing it was too late.

“Fuck, no, no, please don’t-“ he begged again, eyes flashing down as your cunt strangled him as you came on his cock, not giving yourself any time to relish in how good you felt before climbing off of him. “No!” He shouted at you as he felt himself dribble across his own stomach, the orgasm completely ruined by you.

His head fell back against the headboard in defeat, his eyes closing as he fought back the tears. He really did feel like a fucking mess. You chuckled at his reaction gently, still a little out of breath as you asked him, “What? Was that not good for you?”

“Y-you ruined it. You kn- knew you were gonna.” His eyes screwed up tightly, feeling completely wrecked. How much more of this shit was he going to have to take? Could he take anymore?

Your hand grasped his chin, telling him to open his eyes. He decided not to argue with you on that, looking back at you hesitantly as he bit into the insides of his cheeks to hold back the profanities and built up anger he wanted to shout out at you with.

“But baby, we’re just getting started.” You told him, unable to stop the smug smirk spreading across your face when you saw his face fall.

[thoughtsfromlayla]

A Pirate Quest For Me - Chapter Two

Moodboard by: @dragon-kazansky

Summary: Despite the "Kraken incident" you're back on your feet for a new adventure and rare treasure. The inconspicuous map calls for three items: a mermaid's tear, a bottle of lightning, and a dream crystal.

Notes: ~3.4k words, this chapter was so fun to write. I'll be back from hiatus next week. Can't wait to see you guys again!!

Warnings/Tags: RIP Merman!Dream, chaotic bisexual disaster pirate reader, drunk reader, fingering, prostitution, queued post

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You’re drunk off the ship to Tortuga, with three bottles of rum in your system, when a missionary comes into your path and stops you. He stands in front of the door of the tavern that is calling your name and a rented room with two lovely ladies requiring your attention. 

“Do you know what the Creator wants? Do you know the actions of your life will lead you to the fiery pits of Hell? Join the Savior and repent your sins, pirate!” He praises in front of your stumbling self. 

“I know what the Creator really wants, dammit! They want me to kill my motherfucking self.” You scream into the face of the missionary, your breath foul with alcohol. “That’s why They fuck with me, that’s why They gave me Dream of the Endless as a soulmate and this fucked up ass life! But the joke’s on Them, I ain’t going to give that motherfucker the satisfaction!” Your drunken ramblings continue as you stumble into the tavern. You slam the door in the missionary’s face and grab a random bottle from the bar top. 

The tavern's commotion is loud and shakes the wooden beams on which the building supports itself. You brush off their shouts, wobbling on unsteady legs to the room you rented out for the night.

“Hello, ladies,” You greet them with a lopsided smile and take another swig at the bottle of rum. You briefly lean against the door frame for support as the prostitutes you have hired acknowledge you.

“Captain Fortune!” Katy and Tia greet you with a smile. 

You sit down on the provided wide armchair and beckon for one to come to you with a slow finger. Tia straddles your hips easily and smiles down on you. The other circles and sits on the arm itself, running her hands across your chest, and begins to peck your neck with short kisses. 

You grab Tia by the hair, pushing her lips towards your own as you drown your sorrows in her softness. She sighs as you force your tongue into her mouth, the taste of her mixing with your own. 

Your fingers graze across the thinness of her dress, across the mound of her breast, feeling as her nipple perks from the light sensation. Your hand explores further, familiar with the way her body is shaped, and traces down her stomach and cunt. She’s not wearing anything underneath, and your fingers grow slick as you run it back and forth across her slit. 

You watch as she moans, head thrown back, and even if she is pretending to love it, it’s enough for you. Your finger traces slow circles around her enlarged clit and your hips buck up into her impatiently. The smell of sex is heavy and thick in the air, the alcohol is doing its job of dulling your senses, and for one moment, you are allowed to forget.

Katy, meanwhile, is busy untying your blouse, your breasts spilling out as her hands go to grab at it. You moan into the touch, slowly pushing your finger into Tia’s weeping cunt. You pump the appendage as you feel the tightness of her around you.

“Please,” Tia begs and you smile.

“You know I love it when you say that, my sweet,” You croon with lidded eyes and add another finger into her. 

“I see you still enjoy the pleasures of the flesh,” Dream’s voice doesn’t surprise you when he comes into the private room.

“It is a good distraction… given current events,” You respond to him, sighing, not bothering to look towards him.

You take your fingers out of Tia, the slickness of her runs down your fingers and you indulge yourself in her taste, pushing your fingers into your mouth. Katy and Tia seem to understand the situation and peel themselves off of you, sauntering off to the provided bed and entertaining themselves. Instead, you keep your eyes on the two women who are more interested in each other than you at the moment.

“Does it remind you of the night you spent with me?” Dream asks hesitantly. 

“No,” You lie, your lips hovering over the bottle top. Both of you know you’re lying, but you pretend not to care. 

Morpheus watches closely as your wet lips close over the glass bottle. He would never admit out loud the effects you had on him, especially not when you tilt your head back and give him a view of your neck, or the way you swallow the rum slowly, he follows the movement down to your chest.

Oh, how your breasts heave under the influence of cheap and illegal moonshine. It should be moving like that underneath him as he ravishes you in the ways that you deserve. To make you squirm like the first and only night you spent in his bed. Morpheus wants to hear you cry out for him, to depend on him to bring you pleasure once again. 

When you finish the last of the rum, you lick your lips slowly, still watching the two bodies pleasure each other in front of you. You turn to Dream with a frown, remembering that he was the reason why you were denied your lovely time with your lady friends. 

You take in his clothing; he has shifted back into a human form, his tail splitting into legs. Your eyes take in high-waisted pants and a loose black blouse all covered by a long jacket with buttons down the center of it all. 

Your frown deepens as you stare at the hat he wore. “Is that my captain’s hat?” You growl at him, standing up to swipe at it. 

In your drunken state, the attempt is more pawing at him than swiping at him. Morpheus watches with amusement as you tumble after your actions, falling back into your chair with a huff. You groan, giving up too easily. 

You drop a pouch of coins onto the bed for Tia and Katy and push past Dream as you make your way out of the room, out of the tavern. You invert the bottle of rum, forgetting that the bottle was empty in the first place, and sigh. 

Dream follows you like a shadow, his footsteps empty on the merchant dock that you find yourself at. The late summer wind is hot and humid against your skin. The Dream Lord’s presence is like that of overtly sickly sweet candy. The type that gets stuck between your teeth and gums and makes your throat raw from consumption.

Yet, he doesn’t leave, he never will, not when you were right in front of him, not when you were merely an arm's length away. His fingers trace across the curve of your shoulder, feeling the way you breathe under his fingers. He presses himself against your back, and you rest your tired body against him.

It was his pathetic attempt at an apology, to admit that he had done something wrong, but his pride would never let him say the words out loud. Even as you wait for it, watching the sun dip below the horizon, the words never come. 

You’re starting to lose yourself in his touch, in the way his warmth spreads across your body better than any type of alcohol could possibly do. 

You hate it.

With a groan you push him away from you, turning towards him with a frown. The sound of the last ship disembarking its goods fades into the background as the two of you stare at each other. You’re not sure what came over you, perhaps it’s been a long time coming or it’s the alcohol in your system. But the weight of the empty rum bottle rests easily in your hands. 

You launch it full force at Dream’s face.

What’s worse is that Morpheus manages to tilt his head away just in time for the bottle to miss him. A beat of silence follows the two of you.

“You dare‒” He seethes at you. 

“Yes, I dare.” You cut him off by repeating his words, mocking his voice in the deep rasp that he has. 

The bottle thunks into an open barrel on the dock, floating to the top by the time you reach it. You peek inside, watching the squirming eels writhing against each other. Curiously you notice the zap of electricity between the bodies as they rub against each other. 

The bottle is in the center of it all, the nose turns downward and with a slackened jaw in disbelief, you see the electricity form within it. The ball of energy is sporadic inside the glass, bouncing off the walls of its enclosure. You grab at the bottle and bring it closer for inspection but as soon as the bottle leaves the eels, the electricity falls out of the bottle like unraveling yarn until it reaches the eels once more. 

“It needs more power…” You mutter to yourself, the cogs in your head are turning, albeit a little slower than usual. Dream’s presence is still looming over you, watching intently as you form a plan to achieve your bottle of lightning. 

You think back to the map, it said something about a dying star. That’s when it clicks in your mind. Off the Gulf of Mexico is a ship graveyard, stranded and broken by protruding porous rocks. The rocks are old and otherworldly because they came from…

“Meteorites.” You finish your thoughts out loud, turning to Dream with a satisfied smile. “I know where we must go next.” 

“We?” Dream raises an eyebrow at your choice of words. You had never been one to invite him on any of your excursions.

The way he looks at you makes your stomach churn and your throat dry. Simply, it is adoration.

Wait, no, it’s the alcohol. 

You double over as the contents of your stomach leave you the way they came in. The taste of acid is heavy on your tongue as you throw up dinner and several bottles of rum all over Dream’s shoes. It paints the shiny black leather into sickly green as you throw up again, the last lingering between your teeth. 

After you’re certain the last of your stomach is on the floor you peer at Dream, his face in utter exasperation as he looks between you and his shoes. He lifts a leg, the sound of your sloshing vomit is enough for him to retire any idea he previously had of cleaning it. 

“Sorry,” You groan, the smell making your nose scrunch as well. “At least I’m more sober now. I think.” 

“You think?” Dream repeats and takes a cautious step back, the sound of slime squishing beneath the boot. And for good reason too as one more bout of nausea washes over you and you empty your stomach once more. 

When your swollen eyes open, the first thing you notice is that you’re back in your captain's quarters‒and that it’s morning. The seagulls are perching themselves on the small window ledge that looks out the back of your ship. An odd raven accompanied them, making you blink a few times to determine whether or not it is real. 

The thought is quick to disappear as an arm wraps itself tighter around your waist. You follow the arm with a judgemental look to find Dream of the Endless flush to your back. 

Fuuuuuuck…

You throw the blanket off your body as if it is on fire, the action waking the slumbering Dream Lord. 

“You… me…” You point between your two bodies. “You! Me?!” You grab at your hair as you begin to pace around your quarters. You’re down to nothing but your ruffled blouse, which thankfully was enough to cover your more pirate parts, but otherwise you were completely exposed. 

“Nothing occurred,” Morpheus’ morning voice rumbles through his chest as he watches you pace around the room trying to find a pair of pants.

He recalls you doing the same thing last night only you were ridding yourself of the clothes instead of trying to find them. His eyes wander to the farthest corner of the room where he placed his boots, the flaking bits of vomit still on them, and shudders. 

“I’m never drinking again,” You groan as you jump into the pants from last night. You rub at a dark spot with a wet thumb and you’re not sure if it’s rum or if it’s Tia’s arousal that stained the pants. 

Dream’s ready and dressed by the time you open the door to the rest of the ship. The bustle of your crew working their morning chores greets you. The combination of the sun and their greetings causes the hangover headache to throb painfully in your head. 

“G’morning, Captain Fortune,” Theo comes to you with a canteen. 

“More alcohol?” You ask dryly. Maybe if you’re drunk again then you don’t have to deal with the consequences of what happens after you’re drunk. 

“No, water,” Theo replies as soon as you bring the bottle to your lips.

The water tastes like dried leather and staleness off the bottom of a barrel, yet it is the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted. You finish the last of it, wiping the drops that manage to drip down your chin with the back of your hand. 

“Theo, set course to the Gulf of Mexico, be careful for rocks,” You mention vaguely to him as you slowly begin to recall the events of last night. 

“Lower the sails and head out of the coast by way of merchant routes,” Morpheus adds quickly from behind you. You turn to look at him with a sneer. What the fuck?

“Oh, uh‒” Theo blinks between the two of you. 

“Don’t tell him what to do, I’m the captain!” You jab a finger into Dream’s chest, feeling the lean muscle underneath. The wind begins to pick up and your crew of misfits start to put away their scrub brushes to set sail. 

“Well, he is wearing the captain’s hat,” Theo states matter-of-factly; he even points his finger up. 

You turn to him slowly with a frown, your jaw ticking as you grind your teeth together. “It’s my hat in the first place!” You scream as you point at the hat that rests comfortably on Dream’s head. The feather attached to the silk scarf around the leather hat billows in the present wind. 

“Yet, I made the ship,” Dream counters easily. 

“Sooo…” Theo draws out. “Who do I listen to?”

“Me!” You both say at the same time, yours more irritated than the dark, lanky man beside you. 

No, not a man, more than a man, you had to remind yourself with a shake of your head. 

“Theo,” You breathe deeply to reset yourself. “Just‒just get us out of dock.” 

“Aye-aye, cap’n.” You hear him say as you turn around. Maybe you should take a second nap. 

“What was that about?” You hear someone ask Theo between the huff and puffs of their breath as they secure a rope. 

“I dunno, maybe it’s a lover’s quarrel.” Theo shrugs as he goes to help. 

“It’s not a lover’s quarrel, we are not lovers,” You exclaim, hands flailing in the air as you whip around to their conversation. “I will hang you by your innards and fly you as my new flag if you bring it up again!” You groan and swing your room door open with a harsh exhale from your nose. Dream slinks in like a pesky bug that keeps flying in the same window. 

“Then why did he bring her back on the ship last night? And why did he get to stay in the captain’s quarters?” You groan as you hear the last of their conversation, flopping face-first into your bed. 

You take another deep breath to calm yourself, the smell of old libraries and leftover cinderwood invade your senses from where Morpheus slept. The idea that it’s actually calming your nerves makes you turn on your back. You’d rather be riddled with anxiety than be calmed by anything from Dream of the motherfucking Endless.

Dream roams your quarters, looking around in the space you’ve created for yourself. His fingers glide over the ivory globe that rests in the middle of the room, tracing the short journey to the Gulf of Mexico. 

As you cross territories, the late summer storms brew easily. Rain comes down in a soft sheet, waterfalling off the window. You’ve since gotten from your moping state and instead, find yourself staring out the windows, watching the waves crash into each other. 

The instructions of the map play in the back of your head and you only hope that you’re on the right track. The idea did, after all, come to you when you were drunk off your mind. The ship rocks slowly, Theo taking to your instructions quite well. The porous rocks pass by your window as you lose yourself in thought. 

“This is for you,” Dream’s voice brings you out of your stupor. 

You turn to him and watch as he places a familiar ceramic music box in your hands. He opens the box carefully and the two of you remain quiet as you listen to the nostalgic tune play in time with the dancing couple in the center. 

“I thought I lost it,” You whisper, tracing the frame absentmindedly. The song reminds you of the lullaby your mother used to hum to you to sleep. 

“No,” Dream pauses, picking his next words carefully. “It was left behind the night…”

Both of you think back to that fateful night many years ago. The storm that night was not so different from the one you currently face. Everything in your life had been working out just dandy. Though you were reluctant to be married off like traded cattle, it would have been a comfortable life. If only your father didn’t get hung for treason against the crown. 

At the end of the day, it costed your relationship with your future husband and your mother to run away from all allegations. Last you’ve heard, she’s managed to reinvent herself as someone else’s wife. In your vulnerability, you met Morpheus in a dream dawning on your 24th birthday. 

You lost yourself in the pleasure that he was able to give you; to forget your pain amidst the throes of passion and love. Wrapped in each other’s embrace, Dream sees a vision of you as his forever queen. In your softness, in every caress of your skin, in every clash of your lips, he solidifies his vision of you. 

Morpheus had finally felt at peace when he watched you writhe beneath him, eyebrows pinched, and the sound of his name on your lips. He woke the next morning to you missing from his arms. Dream watched from across realms as you stole the dowry meant for your ex-fiance and used the money to run away. 

You ran away from the consequences of your family, from the grief that had yet to find you from the death of your brother and father. From the betrayal of your mother. 

“Right,” You finish the thought by clearing your throat. Dream has yet to stop chasing you since that night. 

A knock breaks the moment and Theo enters a moment later. “Thank god,” You huff, placing down the music box on your desk and shutting it. The music that had filled the air stopped abruptly and it was once again just your thoughts that permeated the room. 

“Captain Fortune,” Theo starts. 

“Storm’s reached its peak?” You ask hopefully. 

“No,” Theo pinches his lips. His hands were oddly behind his back as he broke the news.

“Why do you always hurt me so,” You sigh sarcastically. “What is it then?” 

“I, uh, found a stowaway,” Theo reveals, a look of concern crossing his face.

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[harringtons-cupid]

Valentines day - Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Wc: 2k

Warnings 18:

Fluff: Established relationship, kissing, gift exchange, dancing. Smut: Public sex, party sex, daddy kink, creampies, clit spanking, squirting, fingering. Cock warming, ear nibbling.

Tagged: @sweet-villain @harrys-four-nipples @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eddiemunsonwillbethedeathofme @josephquinnsbitchywitch @bisexual-byers @urlbitchin

I want to thank @thelastofharrington for their NSFW Steve Harrington Alphabet that inspired this piece of work. I hope it's just as good as the original.

Buy me a Valentines drink | Masterlist |

Valentine’s Day, there was always a party at Steve Harringtons for Valentine’s Day.

You hated it, the intimate time you wanted to spend with him was gone. But as you saw how excited he was, you bit your tongue. Even if you weren’t able to be completely alone with Steve, you knew he would make it up to you.

You hated it, the intimate time you wanted to spend with him was gone. But as you saw how excited he was, you bit your tongue. Even if you weren’t able to be completely alone with Steve, you knew he would make it up to you.

After all his infamous parties always gave him time to sneak off and be with you, each year the party would be themed with different Valentine’s Day items.

This year, Steve wanted to go for a sexual Valentine’s Day theme with everyone growing a little bit older, this excited you more. Giving you the opportunity to dress sexily for Steve knowing that he would rip it off you in a heartbeat.

He loved public sex, especially at his parties. His bedroom would usually be locked at a certain time with both of you inside, you enjoyed the thrill of hearing people nosily downstairs and fall onto the bedroom door thinking it was the bathroom.

As you helped him hang up love hearted banner with the words “naked people only” as a joke across his doorway, you gazed at him fondly.

You and Steve had been together for a few years but this was the first year out of school and you were excited for the night ahead.

He helped you bake the cupcakes and Valentine’s Day themed food, standing behind you as you guided him with the piping bag in the shape of a penis. His laugh echoed into your ear as he peppered you with kisses.

Disappearing back to your own house, you began to plan out your outfit in your head. Your friends were waiting on your doorstep as you pulled up to your house, all squealing in excitement as they waved the party flyers in their hands.

Their full bags around their shoulders pushing past each other in a flurry of excitement and nervousness, the babble of voices filled your room as you swapped ideas for outfit choices.

Hours later, you all stood in front of the floor length mirror of your bedroom. You were wearing a red lingerie set, over a little black dress that clung to your curves. Your red stockings were covered by knee length boots that just touched below your dress.

Your friends were in similar dresses, their hair in different styles all smiley and giggly as they admired themselves.

The party began at 6PM, bottles clinked on the bed as you poured drinks into cups that you provided. You slowed your drinking as they danced in your bedroom, your mind flashed to Steve and you felt excited to see him.

Disappearing into your bathroom, you snuck your Polaroid camera in with you. Angling it perfectly, you held it with the flash facing your body and smiled. Capturing your outfit in the light, waiting for it to develop before entering your bedroom.

The white bag sat on the table, it was filled with a few Valentine’s Day themed nicknacks as you nearly placed the photo into a suitable envelope and kissed it. Imprinting your red lipstick stain onto the seal.

Your friends were too distracted to notice you, gradually getting tipsier and tipsier by the second. You drank your weak Vodka and cranberry until it was time to stumble over to the party. They all clambered into the back of your car, all giggly and full of alcohol.

When you arrived the party was already in full swing, people were noisily shouting over each other. You were all handed a valentine's themed cocktail on the door, smiling to yourself at the thought that Steve used your idea. The beer pong table had crowds of people surrounding it, the kitchen was full of rambling people eating the food you and Steve had made earlier on in the day.

Your friends vanished into various rooms, all in pursuit of their crushes. You gazed around until your eyes landed on your tipsy boyfriend, smiling as he began to jeer at the sight of you.

Cupping your face with his free hand and kissing you, tipsily looking down at your outfit and whistling. You giggled against his face as you kissed him again.

“I have a present for you” you whispered to him, watching his eyes light up.

Placing his drink down on the nearest surface, he mumbled some words before disappearing off and returning with his own gift bag for you. Pulling you away from the crowds and into his bedroom, you smiled at him. Finally able to hear yourself think, you traded bags both gasping at the contents.

Inside, Steve had written little notes carefully shaped into hearts. Each note was written for a different reason to why he loved it. Surrounded by red and pink tissue paper there was a red velvet box. Opening it, to expose a gold locket necklace with a tiny photo of you both inside. 

Throwing your arms around him with joy, kissing his cheeks and lips aggressively before nodding towards his bag. Watching him peer inside, your face began hurting from how much you were smiling. His eyes filled with happiness as he bought out the items, amongst the polaroid photograph of yourself there was a small gold chain, a long love letter and for a joke some condoms. 

He laughed and pulled you in for a kiss, knocking both bags onto the floor as you fell on top of him. His hands trailing down your body, underneath your dress and playing with your lingerie. Grinding you against him with his hands, groaning softly into your mouth as your red lipstick stained his lips. 

Staying there until a loud knock echoed through the white wooden door, startling you both as Steve’s name was called out. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he adjusted his boxers and opened the door. Not given a second to answer before he was pulled out the room, you laughed at his reaction before placing both bags neatly on his desk and following the commotion. 

Steve was being forced to stand upside down on a keg stand whilst the rest of his friends cheered him on, you watched from the balcony in disbelief. Deciding to ignore the boistiorus behaviour, you headed into the kitchen where your friends were lurking around the counter gossiping. They squealed at the sight of you, pulling you into the circle as you poured yourself a drink. 

The night got busier and noisier, you were on your 4th drink of the night when Steve found you. He had calmed down since the keg, all smiley and flirty as he flung his arm around you. Pulling you away from your friends, the living area was packed with people kissing and dancing together. Grabbing you by the waist, he slammed his body into the wall as he lifted up your dress and began to kiss your neck. 

Moaning into your skin as you cautiously looked around as his hands circled your clit, your cheeks flushing red as you felt yourself moan softly. Closing your eyes tightly as you relaxed into the motions of his fingers, feeling between your wet folds until he managed to slide a finger inside you. 

His coat dangled off you as you hid behind the sofa, the other couples were too preoccupied to notice. More people flooded in, hiding you both even more as Steve’s fingers curled inside you with his thumb playing with your clit. His boner digging into your ass as you grinded yourself against him with the friction, groaning into his mouth as you bent your head backwards. 

The music grewer louder as so did your moans, gasping as you felt your legs shake. The high of your orgasm crept up on you, shaking against his as you came hard all over your shoes and his floor. He continued until you whimpered for him to stop. 

Grinning at you, he unbuckled his jeans slightly letting his hard cock slid down your ass cheek and into your cunt. You both moaned loudly as your dripping cunt took him whole, a few people turned to look at you but Steve stayed still. His cock throbbing inside you until they turned their backs, he began to slowly thrust inside you. 

Bending you forward slightly to allow you to use the sofa for support, his cock slid in and out of you as your moans unheard under the gaggle of voices. Biting your lip as his cock hit your soft spot, his hands grasping onto your waist as he thrusted hard inside you. 

Your eyes fell onto your group friends as his hand spanked your clit underneath your dress, watching as they began to get closer to you both. Falling onto the nearest chair, you both gasped as his cock was shoved deeper inside you. 

Rocking yourself back and forth on his lap until your friends stood in front of you, your dress hid his naked flesh as it throbbed inside you. Mumbling your words to them until they saw someone they liked, rushing away from you. 

The second their bodies were away from the sofa, his cock was hitting your walls hard. Your cunt clenching around him as your moans got louder, almost matching the music. Pulling you back to hit his chest, his moans were clearer as his hands moved you on his cock. 

“You’re so naughty, riding my cock in public. I bet you’d love to be fucked full of me cum in front of all these people wouldn’t you?” he growled, nibbling down on your ear. 

You whined at his words, grinding quicker against his cock. Gripping onto the chair for support as you heard him whisper ‘fuck’ into your ear, his cock twitched inside you. The chair creaked from the movements of your bodies together, your friends were nowhere to be seen as his tip slammed into your soft spot. 

His body shook underneath you, his hands played with your clit hard as you felt yourself move closer to your orgasm. Leaning further against his chest, your moans were directly into his ear as the sounds of you both were drowned out even further by the speakers blaring loudly. 

“I’m going to cum Steve” you moaned loudly, he moved his hands from your clit and wrapped them tightly around your waist. Holding you down onto his cock as he thrusted hard inside you, your legs shook as you felt yourself cum. 

"Cum for me baby, cum for Daddy" he grunted, his hands digging into your skin.

Squirting all over both of your bodies, coating the chair in your cum. He groaned loudly, as his cock twitched inside you. Using your cum as lube, he thrusted closer to his own orgasm. 

Within seconds, you heard him whine into your ear as you felt his warm sticky cum empty inside you. Gasping as you continued to grind yourself against his cock, not moving out of you until his cum was deep inside you. 

Catching your breath, you stayed on his lap until you both felt ready to walk through the crowd. Grinning at each other, you turned around and cupped his face with your hands kissing him roughly. 

“I love you” smiling against his face, your body dripping with both sweat and cum. 

“You know I love you too” he grinned, sliding his tongue into your mouth. 

This was a Valentine's Day that would not be able to be topped. 

Tidying yourselves up, you pulled Steve into the middle of the dancefloor. Holding him close as you danced to the music, grinning up at him.  Your arms dangled off his neck as your eyes stayed on him, you didn’t think it was possible to love someone as much as you loved Steve. Your cunt still throbbing from missing his cock inside you, your legs weak as you slowly danced with him. The love drunk look on his face, showed you that he was feeling the same. 

“We may have to do that again, later tonight. My cock is already missing you” he leaned into your ear and whispered. Smirking at you.

[cecilebutcher]

〈⛯ℂ𝕪𝕣𝕦𝕤 𝕆𝕝𝕪𝕞𝕡𝕚𝕒⛯〉

Pinterest moodboard

“You are the dancing queen

Young and sweet only 17”

!!Likes do nothing, Reblog instead!!

C.w: cheating. Depression.

Cyrus is part of my twst x Greek mythology oc series. Go check it out!

⊱Bᴀsɪᴄs⊰

Name: Cyrus Olympia

Age:17

Date of birth: June 19

Zodiac sign: Gemini

Hight: 177cm

Dorm: Rosantée (a beautiful dorm made by @midnightmah07 & @viilpstick)

Class: 2B

Place of birth:

Father: Aegaeon Olympia (48)

Mother: Dimitra Titan (42)

Step mother: Eileen Olympia (50)

Brother: Lex Olympia (19)

Brother: Seraphim Olympia(19)

Sister: Daria Olympia (18)

Twin Sister: Cinda Olympia (17)

Brother: Nestor Olympia (16)

Sibling: Aison Olympia (16)

Sister: Xena Olympia (6)

Dominant hand: right

Based off: Apollo(Greek mythology)

Sexuality: Bisexual, poly.

⊱Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ⊰

Cyrus is a 177cm guy with tanned skin and freckles scattered all over his body, most noticeable are the ones on his face and shoulders, alongside a Beaty mark next to his mouth. He has blond wavy hair that reaches a bit under his shoulders that has grey strands scattered all around. He has a lean frame and baby soft skin, but is surprisingly strong.

⊱Vᴏɪᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ⊰

D4vd (singer)

⊱Cʟᴜʙ⊰

Music club.

⊱Bᴇsᴛ Sᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ⊰

Poison making. Music.

⊱Hᴏʙʙʏ⊰

Any and all things that relate to music. Archery. Camping. Travel. Dancing. Painting. Drawing. Artsy stuff. Poetry. Gardening.

⊱Bᴀᴄᴋsᴛᴏʀʏ⊰

Cyrus was born to a single mom along side his twin sister Cinda. Their mother, Dimitra, had slept with their father without knowing that he was married with children. After they were born all theee of them- him his sister and mom -moved in with their father and his family. Surprisingly, things went smoothly and they even got three more siblings.

Cyrus grew up loving music art and anything that’s artsy and creative. From a young age his parents would buy him instruments of all kinds for him to try, and he would excel in each and every single one they gave him. When he turned 14 he started to upload music he wrote on wetube for the world to see, and he quickly blew up. In only a year he had a large fan base. Now at 17, Cyrus is the biggest indie artists out there.

ᵉʳʳᵒʳ ᵉⁿᵗʳʸ ᶜᵃⁿᵗ ˡᵒᵘᵃᵈ....

⊱Sᴘᴇᴀᴄɪᴀʟ Mᴀɢɪᴄ⊰

-:Helios’ light:-

The ability to create instruments out of thin air that act like light. He can create up to 30 instruments at a time. The instrument he creates can play on their own or he can play them, and he can create a melody that changes a person mood. For example he can create a calming melody, or a sad melody, or an angry melody. No matter what type of music it is, the melody is always what he wants.

⊱Tʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs Oɴ Cʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs⊰

𝚁𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎: Rosehearts? I think I know him? Though in all honesty I pay no attention to that school.

𝚃𝚛𝚎𝚢: I don’t know. But why is his name just…. Three?

𝙻𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚊: ah prince Kingscholar. In the wise words of my beloved twin sister Cinda, what a fucking bitch.

𝚁𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚎: He’s like, Leona’s henchman, right? Poor guy.

𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚖: Ah Kalim is so cute! I met him when we were kids and he’s always been so shy and adorable~

𝙹𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕: He’s too serious in my opinion. And way too overpriced. But I suppose he has his reasons. 

𝙰𝚣𝚞𝚕: who?

𝙹𝚊𝚍𝚎: oh I have some of those! Jade gems are just so pretty you know?

𝚅𝚒𝚕: Vil! Oh I’ve worked with him before and he is so cool!! Words cannot describe Vil Shoenheit. Truly they cannot.

𝚁𝚘𝚘𝚔: Rook Hunt! Ah, such a fun guy. Me my sister and mom go hunting with his family a lot, so much fun. He’s crazy, but definitely fun.

𝙸𝚍𝚒𝚊: my beloved Cousin Idia shroud. Seeing him, I just want to put him under one of those lamps they place plants under so they get light.

𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚞𝚜: the oh so great Mallues Draconia. I have no opinion on him. Though he is pretty hot.

𝙻𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊: idk who that is in all honestly. Next.

𝙽𝚒𝚎𝚐𝚎: I’ve worked with Neige a few times. He’s nice. And has a nice singing voice. I don’t have much of an opinion on him.

⊱Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ⊰

Positive traits: kind, nice, generous, clever, intelligent, creative, responsible, reliable, brave, confident, independent, loyal, dedicated, cheerful, supportive, helpful, ambitious, caring, loving, easy going, open minded, patient, empathetic, witty, self confident, talented, gifted, truthful, passionate, friendly, sociable, charismatic, charming, warm.

Negative traits:fearful, anxious, argumentative, possessive, jealous, envious, naive, spoilt, unstable, uncontrollable, wild, pushy, petty, emotional, cunning, passive, chaotic, egotistical, prideful.

Neutral traits: energetic, positive, honest, lighthearted, sarcastic, competitive, sentimental, private, soft, talkative, flirtatious, dreamy.

⊱Fᴜɴ Fᴀᴄᴛs⊰

Worked with Vil before and is friends with him.

RSA golden boy.

1000% mamas boy.

Super fucking fun.

Like he doesn’t get angry.

He gets upset and is pretty dramatic but doesn’t get angry.

But if you manage to get him angry.

The only thing you can do is pray.

Super fucking emotional.

Their dad’s favorite son. Not kid, that’s Daria.

Hopeless romantic no1.

Has a new crush every other week.

Spoke 10 lies his whole life.

Bitch. Just. Straight up bitch.

Closest to Nestor and Cinda.

Most famous and biggest indie singer ever.

60% of his songs are love songs

30% are about him mom and sister.

10% about whatever he feels like.

Designated doctor.

Because he is a doctor

Don’t ask how he can be a doctor a singer and a student at the same time.

He’s built different.

Surprisingly strong.

Has a tattoo off a sun flower over a sun on his back.

Top of his class.

Flirt.

Went through a one year long depression where his life was in danger.

Is better now, but still takes anti depressants.

Cried when Cinda said she wouldn’t attend nrc with him.

In her own words “too much guys. No thanks”

Has three swans.

No one likes them except for him.

comments are more than appreciated. but reblogs help the content reach more people so please reblog if you want to like<3 likes do nothing. Seriously, don’t like, reblog.

[prolix-yuy]

I got honey bear and I think it would perfectly fit our underrated hedonistic feral trashpanda of a man, Ezra 👀

Thank you, LJ! 🥰

Darling Fanna, you know I had to give you the best I could possibly fathom. You are always so supportive and kind, and the best way I could think of to thank you was to make Ezra get absolutely WRECKED.

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader

Position: Honey Bear

Word Count: 1917 (a big sendoff for a wonderful bangathon!)

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, bisexual reader, Dom!Reader, bratty switch!Ezra, mentions of wlw, allusions to oral sex (f receiving), masturbation, oral sex (m receiving), anal play, rimming (m receiving), fingering (m receiving), biting, brief noncon thought (not acted on), cum play, cum eating/swapping, everyone is filthy and having a great time.

Notes: Here it is! The final Bangathon request! And I tried my hardest to make it as filthy, as bangable, as explosive as possible for an excellent finish! (how many more sex jokes can I cram in here?) Thank you for giving me the perfect final request, and thank everyone for reading and coming on this sexy month-long sleepover with me!

The moment you rise to the challenge, you know you’ve made a mistake. 

The other prospectors in your group had been drinking, something strong and sour-sweet they must have brewed from the plant life. Algora had many mysterious treasures hidden amongst its flora, including the delicate stamens from an indigo-gold flower you were collecting. You’d taken a few too many swigs of the hooch yourself, chasing the rotten flavor with faux chocolate ration bars. The slow unclenching of your muscles must have also unfurled your tongue when they began bragging of conquests.

“So much talk for a bunch of men who’ve never made a woman cum,” you drawl out, the boisterous negations rising as you slide your eyes to your target. Ezra - loquacious, boastful, self-assured survivor of the Green - doesn’t add to the noise. Instead he traces the inseam of his pants, and flickers his eyes up to catch yours. You hold them, challenging, but he only lets a secret smile curl his lip.

“And how many have you made crash against the rocks of pleasure, Quick?” he says, voice carrying over the din even though he barely raises it. The men simmer at the stare-down. Ezra had given them all cutting nicknames, but your own - quicklime, caustic, harsh, explosive - gave you a thrill you’d never admit.

“Many more than you,” you shoot back, peeling your fingers into a V and flicking your tongue lewdly between them. The men shout and jeer, but their voices fade into obscurity as you stand against the man who’d been haunting your nights. Stalking outside your tent, sometimes lingering too long, his shadow stretched across the canvas. More than once you’d admired his silhouette jerking off as quietly as possible, prideful lust burning through your veins. Let him look on and desire, you’d think before indulging yourself. 

“Maybe so,” Ezra says nonchalantly, tossing back the last of the foul liquor and licking the pad of his thumb. Your cunt aches, too long without a satisfying partner, and too much alcohol pulsing in your intimate flesh.

“Don’t be sore, Ez, I could ruin you just as well,” you toss out, throat closing up the moment you say it. The challenge is too bold in such company, but it’s too late to take it back. Ezra’s eyes blaze, the sharp flash of teeth catching the light before smoothing into a bored eyebrow raise.

“Maybe so.”

You excuse yourself soon after, whoops and promises of mind-blowing nights following. You wave them off dismissively, knowing not a single man would dare try and test your patience. Rickel still has trouble kneeling from the slash you gave the inside of his thigh. Stripping down in your tent, you scrub the sweat and grime from your body. As the mud joins the rest on your dirt floor, the zip of your tent opens. Fury burns quick and hot in your chest, snatching at a knife by the bucket and spinning around.

“Your offer intrigued me.”

Ezra steps inside the tent flap, zipping it shut behind him. Lowering the knife, you stand in naked glory, preening while his dark eyes roam your wet skin. He lingers by your throat, and the thatch of curls framing your sex. 

“I wondered when you might gather up the courage to come inside,” you say, toweling yourself dry as he steps closer. 

“Does it not make your heart race, standing just on the precipice of something?” Ezra reaches for your skin, but you toss the sopping rag at him instead.

“You're filthy. If you want to know my touch, clean yourself first.”

You actually prefer it that way, musky and sweaty when you indulge, but delight in Ezra following orders. He strips free of his sweat-stained clothing, squeezing water over the hard planes of his back. Even reaching for your soap, lathering it in his armpits, scrubbing his fingernails, and then sudsing his cock. His eyes hood with desire as he strokes himself, letting you watch him grow generously. Another squeeze of water leaves bubbles to pop in the dirt, and Ezra drying himself with your towel.

“Lie down,” you order, and he obeys with amusement in his eyes. You suspect he’s often the one in charge, but his flushed cock twitches at your tone. “Arms up,” you add, and while he raises his eyebrows he lifts his hands above his head, resting them on the pillow under it.

By Kevva he looks gorgeous like this, a feast to be devoured. You hurry to straddle him, sliding your fingers up his arm to press his hands into the bed.

“You promised ruin,” he teases, lifting his jaw to steal a kiss, but you raise just out of reach. The distraction is perfect, because just as he pouts you close the restraints around his wrists. 

The change is electric; his face hardens, eyes turning flinty and indignant with the start of anger, but you grip his chin and hold him to your gaze.

“You’ll have to trust me,” you say. The moment crackles between you, waiting for him to refuse. Instead he lays back and chuckles.

“You know, with this right hand I can easily escape these bonds,” he says, and you catch him trying to gain advantage. Sliding off his lap, you slip between his thighs instead. 

“Does it feel pain?” you ask, dragging your nails slowly down his chest. He arches, a strangled noise in his throat. A pearly drop of precum beads at the tip of his cock, and you spread it across his silky head. 

“Not a lick,” he chokes out. Leaning forward, your hips pressing into the cradle of his, you sink your teeth into his bicep just below the pink line of his true flesh. Fisting his cock, you rut your hips into him, a firm stroke up and down punching a groan from Ezra’s slack lips. The prosthetic flesh feels realistic, and something primal, animal, roars forward. You bite as hard as you can, past the point where you would have drawn blood, and let the adrenaline rush through. Humping into Ezra’s taut body, you jerk his cock in time with your panted breaths, feral with his body finally at your will.

“Quick, fuck, vicious little thing,” Ezra snarls, pulling against the restraints but not breaking free. You release, sitting back on your heels and admiring the ring of teeth you’ve left on his faux skin.

“You’ll have ruin, Ez,” you say, voice thick with promise as you shuffle down to your elbows. He watches you with hazy curiosity as you lift his legs over your shoulders, knees hinging to grip your back. He keens out, and you’re suddenly very aware of how empty and dripping your cunt is. 

“If your sharp mouth has anything to do with it, I will not have the resolve to resist for long,” he hisses, hips canting as he tries to reach your lips. You reward him with a kiss to the tip and a swirl of your tongue, but dip lower instead.

“You’ll just have to try harder,” you challenge before pushing his thighs up and pressing your tongue to his tender asshole. There’s no gentle warm-up; you roll and flutter the muscle hard against his tight ring. Ezra’s hips shoot up off the bed, the rattle of the restraints loud and frantic.

“Fuck, Quick, fuck, fuck, by Kevva, you’re…never…I’ve…stop, please, I can’t…you’re…” Ezra can barely make a thought, which brings more pride than you thought you could gain from wrecking his perspective on pleasure. You continue your onslaught, easing back enough to let him catch his breath before forcefully fucking him with your clever tongue. You’d eaten out women who writhed and begged less, and every plea and racking sob you pull from his battered throat goes straight to your cunt. Wishing you’d fitted one of your toys in your neglected pussy, you settle for rocking against the worn mattress, just enough pressure to ease some of your mounting need.

Once you set a steady rhythm of stroking his weeping cock and breaching his greedy ass, you know he’s done for. He roars through clenched teeth, half-formed promises of how he’ll fuck you until you can’t speak, the debauched things he wants to do to you. You reward the ones you like with a scrape of your teeth, jolting his hips under your mouth. 

“Quick, please,” he groans, the edge of his sanity lost in his voice. You finally relent, lifting your head and glowing at his flushed body, shaking with unshed tears. 

“Tell me,” you order, and everything stops. That’s worse for him, his hips punching up as he struggles to focus. 

“Can you be…inside me?” he asks, voice raw from overuse. You smirk at him, wiggling your free fingers.

“How many?” 

Ezra’s head lolls back as he heaves in a breath. “Two. Please, two.”

Slicking your fingers with spit, you circle his rim. “Deep breath, then let it out.” Ezra complies, and at the top of his sigh you slide your fingers in. The rest of his breath whooshes out, clamping down on the tips. 

“Relax,” you soothe, giving him a few strokes up and down his cock to redirect his attention. When he’s still tight and shuddering you scold, “Ez, if you don’t relax I’m gonna have to force them in.” 

“Fuck!” he curses, and a new wave of slick gathers in your folds. Would he like that? You taking what you want from him, pleasure be damned? Or would that only make it better for him? You lower your voice, huskier, sultrier.

“Take them, Ez.” 

Just like that he relaxes around you, letting you slide in to your knuckles. 

“See? Isn’t that good?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to fuck you now, Ez?”

“Please, Quick. Want it so bad.”

You rock your fingers inside him, finding the soft spot that rolls his eyes back and lengthens his neck. He’s close, cock impossibly hard in your hand and toes curling against your back. Grinding against the bed you chase your own pleasure, waiting for his body to tense up hard before wrapping your lips around his head and flooding your mouth. He snaps his hips up sharply, spilling his seed with frantic shouts and gasps. 

You work him through the aftershocks, holding his cum on your tongue until he’s beginning to soften in your mouth. Lifting off, you slip his legs back to the bed and lean over his chest, lips pursed. Before you can dribble his own spend back on his overheated skin, he opens his mouth and lays out his tongue. Your cunt clenches, crawling up his body as he waits patiently. Opening your mouth, you let his cum slide from your tongue to his, finally sealing your lips together. He licks greedily in, swallowing down his taste. You groan, tangling your fingers in his hair and smearing your neglected cunt against his stomach. When you finally come up for air, his eyes are glassy and ravenous.

“Now yours,” he says, a weak order but one you’re willing to follow. 

“Let me take these off you,” you say, fingers circling his chafed wrists. He shakes his head, lifting his chin with that wicked smile returning to his sinful lips.

“Once I get my hands on you, Quick, you’ll truly be done for.”

Straddling his face, you put a firm hand in his short hair. “Maybe so.”

Unfortunately for your productivity the following day, he’s right.

END

LJ’s Bangathon 2023

[spnfanficpond]

August 2023 Angel Fish Awards!

(Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words. (Click here to learn more about how to nominate a fic for an award!)

Nominated by Anonymous

Tangled Fates by @outofnowhere82

Nominated by @katbratsupernaturalwhore

Factory Reset by @talltalesandbedtimestories

The build up, the sass, the care she took, the pegging, the focus on description, the deliciousness... Mmmm I wanna eat him up!

Love; For the First Time by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Adorable first time fic. Good build, sweet and fluffy and steamy!

Nominated by @mrswhozeewhatsis

An Imagined Life by @imagineteamfreewill

This is the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff AND IT HAS IKEA!!! I mean, I couldn't ask for anything more!! *heart eyes forever*

I'm So Sorry, Sammy by @bobwess

(AO3 link) ANGST!!! So much angst, man. Y'all know I love John Winchester, but even I can acknowledge he was not a great dad. Usually, I avoid fics with the "John's A+ parenting" tags because I have very strict ideas about his incompetence as a father. This story really shows a way that I can see in canon John would be especially crappy as a dad. No pairing, just a seriously angtsy genfic showing teenage Sam being a BAMF and Dean's heart breaking. (Sort of happy ending, though! You know me. lol)

Nominated by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Why I Do It by @kazsrm67

This drabble and it's companion piece (from Dean's POV) is short and incredibly sweet. It's a lovely little slice of life for the boys and the reader. I always love when we get to see Dean happy, and he is, in this fluffy piece. Happy, loved and taken care of - us Dean girls can't ask for more. A highly enjoyable read!

Nominated by @glygriffe

Imperfections by @thewritingspot /@troize

Seeing Lucifer in another light, as an insecure middle child in a big family fired my brain cells! And of course, Gabriel being himself even as a kid. (And also: Art!!!)

Never Say Goodbye by @zepskies

It's a soulmate AU series, but it's also a reader insert that stays close to canon. Sweet and angsty and smutty... A little bit of everything all rolled into one satisfying story.

Untitled ask prompt by @sugaraddictarchangels

This ficlet is the only Jess!Lucifer representation I've ever seen and it's so refreshing to see early seasons' Lucifer under that light!

Nominated by @heavenssexiestangel

Between the Three by @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell

This fic was written for me in all senses of the word, and I love how she characterized Arthur, Mick, and Dean and the different ways they react to being parents-to-be. Of course, the smut is great, but I also love how they clearly all love each other and want to be a family.

The Great 'Nah-Duh' of Dean Winchester by @ladyknightskye

I love this fic because it gave me Gadreel/Dean without having to write it myself, and also because it's well written and I love how soft Gadreel is... And the fact Dean has his Bisexual Awakening with him? LMAO!

Nominated by @iprobablyshipit91

Never Say Goodbye (series) by @zepskies

I’m an absolute sucker for soulmate AUs and this one was amazing. The reader and Dean's relationship was built beautifully and I loved how the ending ‘fixed’ things!

Baby Spoon (series) by @deanwanddamons

This really made me feel so many emotions. Seeing Dean so happy and having the relationship he deserves made me so happy despite everything.

The Prettiest One by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

This was literally so adorable and made me laugh so much. It’s such a good one to go back to and read over again.

Carry On (series) by @jawritter

This was just the perfect fix-it fic we all needed after *that* ending. It wasn’t rushed and it by no means sugar-coated what happened. There are some real struggles and a lot for both the reader and Dean to overcome but it’s damn worth it!

Pack (series) by @spnexploration

This is a story I’ve definitely gone back and reread a few times and it’s so close to the end, I can’t wait to see the final chapters. Overprotective Dean is always perfect but I really enjoy the pack dynamics in this and Maddie is a brilliant addition!

Heart of a Hunter Saga (series) by @muchamusedaboutnothing

Where to even start with this, every single stand-alone story in this saga is excellent in its own right and combined together this whole story is amazing. I love Dean and the reader's relationship and how they’ve managed to carve out a family life that works for them. Brilliant!

Baby, We’ve got a Problem (series) by @deanwritings

I love the unique concept of this, Baby getting turned human, and the implications this has particularly for Deans's relationship. I’ve read it a few times as it’s so easy to go back to and enjoyable to read.

Always You and Me by @deanwinchesterswitch

I just loved this story and how it built up. The dialogue is hilarious and while I did guess what was happening, it in no way detracted from how awesome this story is.

Hold On I’m Coming (series) by @ravengirl94

This was one of the first firefighter Dean fics I read and I loved it. The relationship the two of them have and the twists and turns are just perfect.

Captives of the Court by @impala-dreamer

This story instantly got my attention. I loved the way the story moved between what was happening now and what had happened to lead up to that point and how everything came together at the end. Amazing story.

The One That Got Away (series) by @pink-sparkly-witch

This story just hits you in the feels. It’s not finished but I’m so in love with Dean and the reader already and can’t wait to see how their relationship progresses!

Midnight Espresso / Devour Me (series)by @zepskies

There was something so sweet about these two stories that I instantly fell in love with the reader and dean in this. I connected with the plus-sized reader but Dean is so sweet and adorable. I just loved it.

Collared (series) by @spnexploration

I’ve been reading this story from pretty much when it started being posted and I’ve loved every second, I’m so excited and sad that it’s ending. It’s an amazing story full of protective Dean which I live for and it’s just perfect.

The Last Call by @kasimagines

I could have nominated so many of Kasimagines' stories but there’s something about this one that just really hits me and I’ve read it so many times. The loyalty Dean shows despite the years is beautiful and the effect John has on them all is heartbreaking.

Dream On (series) by @talesmaniac89

There’s something about this fic that I just absolutely love. It’s a comfort fic I’ve gone back and read so many times. Dean's overprotectiveness and worry and concern for the reader is just adorable.

Miscommunication (series) by @winchest09

This is another story I’ve read so many times. I love the story and the British reader really resonates with me being from the UK! I love the confusion between the same words meaning different things to British vs American, it makes for some interesting conversations!

If You Want It To Be (series) by @zepskies

This got me feeling so Christmassy in July! It was just such a lovely heart warming story, I adored it.

Nominated by @mariekoukie6661

House of the Rising Sun by @kittenofdoomage

MAFIA AU!!!! This has been a joy to read for the first time and it's always a joy to reread!!!

Nominated by @thoughtslikeaminefield

The Hero Always Gets A Kiss by @fandomoniumflurry

I’m a sucker for ChesterVelle, heroes, and kissing. This is one of my old faves I like to re-read every once in a while.

No Title by @stusbunker

This is sooooo Sam, and it's sooooo swoony and real. It's fucking electric.

Factory Reset by @talltalesandbedtimestories

This is so. well. written. So sexy. So good for Dean. He deserves this so much. This writer did their research but this doesn't read like a manual. It's thorough and intimate and exactly what Dean should have every day — someone taking care of him.

No Title by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

For the love of god, he’s just Like This, isn’t he? Like always. In canon, in headcanon, in fic — ALWAYS. And I love the way this writer objectifies him.

Nominated by @inenochian

Restless Wanderer by intothesilentland (AO3 only)

This story is such a beautiful soft romance set in 19th C Cornwall. Beautiful portrayal of Dean and Cas!

Nominated by @salt-n-burn-em-all

The Talismen series by Lochinvar (AO3 only)

Gives us insight into people who helped the boys grow up into the men they became. Not always Hunters, more like strangers who sometimes didn’t know exactly how much they helped until years later, if ever.

Nominated by @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes

Hunter’s Throne (series) by @ladyknightskye

It’s such a beautiful story and I love the angel-human lore. It’s so complimentary to each other and that bond is just so Cas and Dean. They have got to talk. It’s part of what’s we readers love about them because once they do, it only gets better and fluffy! I loved it so much I posted about it on my blog to advertise it because it is worth the read and keeps to the essence of the show.

THANK YOU ALL, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

- From your Admins and Manta Rays, @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @princessmisery666, @thoughtslikeaminefield, @katbratsupernaturalwhore, and @heavenssexiestangel!

[la-colombe-noire22]

A few more tidbits on Maria now that I got some time:

Maria is the dutiful big sister. She has another sister and four brothers and keeps them in line. Jeanne and Pierre gave Maria the green light to drag Marcel and Gaston back by the ears if they let Eufemio’s pigeons loose again. 

Maria enjoys cooking and baking, using it as an extension to expressing her creativity. Since her mother was hell-bent on making Maria a housewife, Maria cooked alongside the household staff Chuya and Chuya’s granddaughters. 

She is short—150 cm, a little under 5 feet—and has already been picked up like a sack of grain too many times to count (Pierre’s not sorry).

As usual, art by my pookie @sebwayboi

Was mute during the first few months in 1939 for… a certain reason. Was able to speak again by the fall of 1939, thanking Pierre for helping rebuild the wooden dovecote that got ruined after a thunderstorm. 

She fell for Pierre after he gave her freshly made brie his mom made. She’s kicking her feet in bed while writing how much she finds everything about Pierre to be “marvelous.”

Marcel wasn’t exaggerating when he labeled Maria as an airhead; it’s mostly a combination of her sheltered naivety when living under her mother’s roof back in Mexico, her attempts to grasp and navigate the French language and culture, and having her head in the clouds… mainly to cope from several unpleasant incidents back home.  

Regardless, Maria’s favorite things to do are explore the French countryside, paint, read, play the piano (Debussy is her favorite at the moment), visit museums, and enjoy the sights and sounds of the sea. Maria also writes, hoping to be an author one day.

Maria dealt with A LOT. Typically, a sweet, compassionate, and considerate individual… Maria’s naivety is thoroughly stomped out during the war. For one, she finally put her foot down and express herself truthfully. She stopped letting people walk all over her, and even when things seem bleak or hopeless, she gets up and keeps going.    

No surprise, Maria does have her flaws. Sometimes, she lets it slip that she knows damn well what someone’s true intentions are… but finds it even better to “entertain” them. Topics like politics or mostly “men’s conversations?” She can follow along… but men don’t like it when a woman steps “out of line”, so she plays dumb. She can be a ditz AND a menace.  

She is a Catholic and was raised with traditional, conservative ideals. However, she finds France to be a bit more liberating, so much so that after the war (and future marriage), her legal name in France is “Marinette Morteau.” 

In the beginning, Maria mostly avoided confrontations or starting arguments. Again, thanks to her mother’s strict and overbearing upbringing. When Hans was pursuing Maria romantically, even going as far as to come over to her house uninvited for dinner, or even finding out her daily schedule so he could “chat” with her… Maria tried her hardest to be polite and subtly turn him down. Hans, being Hans… doesn’t take the hint and doubles down on his efforts. In his delulu-ass mind, Maria is “playing hard to get.” 

Socially drinks and smokes as the German occupation drags on. It's a nasty habit, but hey, it’s France during the 1940’s. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. 

Bisexual; her best friend Lorraine awoke something in Maria.

[illmetkismet]

Hihihi!!!!! I Hope You don’t mind yet another ask from me!!!!!!! I’ve already said this before but I absolutely adore the way you answer questions and analyse stuff, it’s such a breath of fresh air to see!!!! This is totally self-indulgent so I hope you don’t mind me asking, but do you have any personal headcannons/analysis thoughts on Luis perhaps??? It feels strange to admit but he’s a very big special interest of mine so I just wanted an excuse to hear somebody else’s thoughts on him!! I hope You’re having a good day regardless!!!!

Always happy to see an ask from you, and don't even start with the strangeness or self-indulgence of being really into or asking about Luis; just yesterday I was wondering whether I should wait for spring to get a splish splash fish ankle tattoo or just do it now and deal with an itchy ankle in my winter boots lol...

So yeah, Luis is my love my turtledove the light of my life and I would LOVE the chance to talk about him!!! He was one half of why I got into resi in the first place (serennedy had me like 'hmmmm maybe horror games are not too scary for me if they have cuties in them....'), and every time I think about him my brain does that thing where you put your head in your hands and sigh while cartoon hearts float up above you...

He's just..... So good.... And despite that, he's made SUCH shitty choices. I love how painful that is for him, but that he's got enough self awareness to understand when he fucks up. He doesn't try to blame anyone else - he faces his mistakes and his own shortcomings (pride, willful ignorance, cowardice) head on, and tries so desperately to make up for them, even as he keeps making them.

I love that he's not some perfect angel, that he hangs on to the amber and intends on handing it over to Ada at first, in exchange for getting out of Valdelobos, despite knowing full well that no good will come of that. The part in Separate Ways where he tells her he doesn't care who she works for, could be the devil himself, so long as she gets him out of there was so shocking for me to hear at first, but then I realized that's the core of his tragedy - that he's a good man trapped in a horrible situation, and he's scared, he wants out, he wants to live so badly! Unlike Leon, he's got a healthy dose of self-preservation, and honestly, if I were in his shoes I would probably make the same choices.

But still - he runs into the burning lab, he risks his life to get the suppressant to Leon, he tells Ada he won't leave her, he picks up his 'lance' and says alright, let's go rescue the princess! He's so full of regret and fear and he keeps making shitty choices, but he also keeps doing the right thing.

The way he's written and acted is so rich and nuanced. Watching him, I understand exactly where he's coming from and every single one of his choices. Out of all the characters in re4r he feels the most real to me, the most human. Every second he's on screen is a joy, even the horrible painful seconds at the end.

I wanted him to live so badly, and not just because I like him, but because he wanted to live so badly... All the re6 AU's I've seen floating around where he meets up with Leon again are among my favourite things to come out of this fandom!! I know Capcom is never gonna do that, but in my head it's canon: when Ada told the helicopter pilot to change course she actually went back for Luis, gave him a little first aid spray, and then they joined forces and lalalala everything is fine!!

Ok I'm gonna wrap it up cause if I keep talking about him I'm gonna be late for work, but thank you so much for the chance to gush!! I love Luis so much and I think about him all the time.... My sweet bisexual disaster man..... Going to his death with a smile:

Aasdghhhgddfghjkljjgdaaddghgfdffhh......

[sarcasticsweetlara]

Hannah Abbott

Hannah Abbott was a half blood witch who was sorted into Hufflepuff in 1991, in the same year the famous Harry Potter came back to the Wizarding World and was sorted alongside her but ended up in Gryffindor.

Hannah and her classmates usually had to clean whatever Harry Potter did in the school, and while they hated Dumbledore's favoritism with Harry and Gryffindor, they were glad that in their third year and their fourth year Harry was safe.

Hannah always tried to be fair, even if sometimes she was too angry or hurt to be good with the people who were mean to her friends, but she always defended them.

Her best friends were Susan Bones and Ernie McMillan and they were called the Citrine trio.

She came out to them first by telling them that she was bisexual and they gladly supported her, and beside them the most supportive person she met was her mom, Ethel Alinac, a muggle born who had married her dad Edward Abbott.

The experience of her mom as a student made Hannah aware that people would look down on her for having muggle blood, as well as that she had to look for her value only on herself.

It was a cold morning in Herbology class in 1996, Professor Sprout was giving the instructions when Dumbledore, the headmaster, called Professor Sprout, moments later they called for her and told her what she never imagined she would have to go through.

Her mom had been murdered by Death Eaters, and they hurt her dad.

Hannah traveled home immediately and took care of her ailing father as well as she started training in order to be a better fighter and a better healer so that she could avenge her mother.

And in those times she was able to gather her strength and cast a corporal patronus: a brown bear.

She grew to be grumpy resentful after that, even with Susan Bones and Ernie McMillan but they never gave up on trying to help her and all their efforts were worth it when Neville Longbottom who had always been kind to her tried to get closer and be her friend.

Not an easy task since now she pushed away everyone, but the ever optimistic and sweet Neville kept coming back every time she tried to be away from him, and when they had to fight in the Battle of Hogwarts, Hannah was petrified by the sight of Neville under the spell of Voldemort by burning the sorting hat but got relieved and proud by seeing Neville break away and behead Nagini, Neville also got happy when he saw Hannah conjure her beloved brown bear patronus and to see she could find her light among all the darkness they were in.

When everything ended they went to each other to talk and walk.

- You were fantastic today Neville- mumbled Hannah

- You were too, you saved me by casting your patronus, thank you Hannah - Neville said as he gave her a sweet and small smile

- Thank you for always being there, even if I was a pain in the ass, you helped me a lot.-

- I wanted to be there for you, I know how it feels to no longer be able to talk to your mother - Hannah felt a little guilty, Neville's parents were still alive but they were insane and no longer recognized himself and yet she dared feel no one understood her when Neville already knew and that he always tried to give his best and not be resentful, the contrary of her.

- I want to apologize for taking you for granted before, I was a monster, I realize you lost your family too and I really appreciate you and I still want to be your friend.

- You are my friend Hannah, and I want you to know I appreciate you too and you're not a monster, you were grieving and learning how to deal with your pain like the rest of us.

Neville and her got even closer than before after that conversation if it was possible and soon they realized they felt stronger in each other's company and as she got to be a healer in Hogwarts and the new owner of the Leaky Cauldron and him the new teacher of Herbology in Hogwarts they started a relationship, and 3 years later Neville bent on one knee and proposed and Hannah said yes.

Hannah indeed learnt to be better as she acknowledged that she had to recognize and feel her emotions not suppress them, and her brave and humble acts earned her a memorial tribute in Hufflecrew along Susan and her other classmates.

[icouldntfindthedoor]

My headcanons for König the Austrian behemoth

I’m putting this under a read more because I delve into topics of child abuse and self harm. This is your warning. 

König’s family was Roman Catholic but he himself is an Atheist. 

As a child he was sexually abused by a family member, who instead of being charged and brought to justice when König tried to tell his family what happened, was protected. This is why König was allowed leave for the military at age 17, his parents didn’t want him around “spreading lies” and “ruining their family’s reputation.” 

As a result, for most of his childhood and young teenage years, König felt alone and like he had no control over anything in his life, not even his own body. He developed severe depression and anxiety, being too afraid to form relationships with anyone or trust anyone because of what was done to him. The bullying in school didn’t help, and König developed a habit of self harming as a means to regain some control of his body back. 

He used to suffer from horrible anxiety attacks that would leave him shaking and feeling sick. He learned breathing techniques from therapy to help him through them, but for the most part he just has to endure. Nowadays they happen less frequently, medication and therapy helped a ton, but they can still happen. Especially if he’s reminded of something of his childhood abuse. 

He’s a nail biter, a nervous habit he developed as a child that never went away. 

He can get very twitchy and jumpy depending on his anxiety levels. Even if he’s with someone he loves and trusts, which is rare for him, he could still potentially get into that nervous headspace. 

He’s bisexual but struggled with his sexuality for so long because he wasn’t sure if it was genuinely how he felt or if he was turning into the same predator that hurt him as a child. So he tried to ignore his feelings towards other men and focused only on women. He’s had two girlfriends in the past, one cheated on him and the other dumped him due to him lashing out during anxiety attacks and for her own mental health’s sake, she needed to take a step back. 

For so long he was so afraid of becoming a victim again that he put himself through a strict fitness regime to bulk up so he could never be put in that position again. He likes that he’s taller and more intimidating with his hood, it makes him feel powerful, like he doesn’t need to worry about being hurt again. And then he worries anyway. 

He knits in his spare time. It helps keep his hands busy and his mind from wandering. He also likes listening to books on audio. He likes high fantasy books with a lot of focus on worldbuilding. He also likes listening to book reviews on YouTube. 

He used to smoke but gave them up before starting his fitness regime. Sometimes he still craves a cigarette. 

He hates tea but loves coffee and energy drinks. One time he poured his energy drink into his coffee, saluted his team, then downed the whole thing in one go. 

He can’t sleep in the dark and needs some form of light, even if it’s from his phone. He also suffers nightmares from time to time, and sleeps with a knife under his pillow.  

Weighted blankets terrify him, they don’t ground him. They make him feel like there’s someone on top of him, pinning him down, and he hates it. 

Like I mentioned before, he does eventually go to therapy and gets the help and medication he needs to live a happier life. And there was nothing more validating for him than to hear the therapist tell him; “The adults around you at the time failed to protect you. And it’s alright to feel angry and hurt by that.” 

He has a big sweet tooth but rarely indulges it. For special occasions, like his birthday or Christmas, he’ll have cake or chocolate. He also likes dark, bitter chocolate. 

He does have moments where he reflects on the people he’s killed and how he killed them and he thinks to himself that he’s become a bigger monster than the man who abused him. And I think that’s what leads him to finally getting therapy. 

That’s all I have today. Share your own headcanons about the big meow meow my ask box is always open :) 

[respectthepetty]

Get To Know Your BL Mutuals

tagged by @kwonzoshi

Simple, answer the questions. @ some people. Include the tag 'g2ky BL mutuals 2022' on your post so we can find everyone's answers!

What has been the BL that took you by surprise this year?

Old Fashion Cupcake. It came out of nowhere! One random day Viki uploaded the first episode, and was like “You wanna watch an oddly named show from Japan?” and my my my (sing it like Troye Sivan) it hit every sweet spot. The scene that was done all in one sequence?! I’m still there. I’m living in that scene. I only come out because I have to pay bills. I’m going to rewatch it for the 80th time now.

What has been the BL that you felt a bit disappointed with this year?

It would have been Oh! My Sunshine Night, but it seemed to embrace its messiness (adding more episodes on the day of the finale!) in a way that I love (amnesia?! a murder plot?! a bubble bath?!!!!) so…

Between Us. It’s the same issue I had with Until We Meet Again. I don’t know how Win and Team’s plot is going to carry over for twelve episodes. We keep getting snippets of In and Korn (TW, please), and shots of Dean and Pharm, but we already know their story, so it’s like recycled plot with a new scent. It’s nice to see Dean not so robotic (“fuck off”) and Pharm not being infantilized, but on top of Alphabet Soup’s issues with Prince Charming, a drowning, Manow doing her (keep it up, we love it!), Tul and Wan’s Gameboys moment, baby Santa looking adorable as Wiew, the product placement of what is clearly NOT water, and the daddy issues (actual issues with their father and not Love in the Air daddy issues), I don’t know how this souffle is going to rise. However, it’s not even close to being finished, so I’m excited to watch how it bakes.

What has been your favorite BL this year?

Love Mechanics. I’m trash for VeeMark’s throat grabs. Trash! Vee being a topsy-turvy bisexual who couldn’t get his shit together is the bisexual representation I want. How many bisexuals do we know who have their shit together? Not a damn one. This show is basically a documentary. Then, Mark being the ultimate Sour Patch Kid who is willing to fist fight his father only made the dynamic between a gay and his huge red flag that much better.

Favorite BL couples (not just of 2022)?

MaxTul are my anything and everything. Korn and Knock. Tan and Bun. Sequels. Prequels. Unconfirmed projects – WHERE IS TRANSPLANT?! It always blows my mind that they are the same age, if not younger than another long-established pair, and came out the gate slutting up our screens. Not even making it a competition, it’s just wild to me that they did the devil’s tango day one, which we see more often now, and held a gun to each other’s head two years ago so DanYok, ToddBlack, KinnPorsche, and VegasPete could fly (I see you HIStory 3: Trapped. Taiwan, you're still my #1). They remind me of a Taiwanese couple with the domestic bliss, the high heat, and the batshit craziness, and I hope they live long and happy lives.

If you had to suggest a BL for someone what would it be?

To My Star 1 AND 2. Yeah, I wrote that. Not just To My Star, but To My Star 2 as well. The reasons speak for themselves, but just in case, never forget his lip was bleeding.

What's your non-BL favorite for this year?

Our Flag Means Death. I only support the girls, the gays, and the goths, so I was happily surprised that I was, in fact, supporting an entire ship of gays and their support goth with this show about pirates. If you think I’m crazy about colors and symbolism in BLs, imagine me watching this show when Ed started wearing color compared to his usual black and wore Stede’s RED robe after Stede gave him a RED cloth, that Ed placed in his pocket where his heart is because Stede gave him love only to throw it in the wind when…

Let me calm down. This show was glorious, and I’m delighted it got a second season. De. Light. Ed.

So who wants to go next? Tag as many or as few people as you want.

Have to tag the color and location mutuals: @gillianthecat @dribs-and-drabbles @waitmyturtles @sliceduplife @callipigio

[babyloncurse]

ABOUT AVORY | Stain glass windows in my mind, I regret you all the time.

‘ sam reid, cis-man, he/him, 37 / 231 , cauldron made high fae ’ ― cauldron save you. it seems AVORY BEAUVARIS has finally made it to the capital, the EMISSARY/AMBASSADOR from the NIGHT COURT is said to be PERCEPTIVE and is said to describe themselves with THE SALTED KISS OF HOT SUMMER NIGHTS, MOONLIGHT TWISTED IN GILDED BRAIDS FOR A NAMELESS MAN'S CROWN, JADED SWEET NOTHINGS THAT HAVE LOST THEIR LUSTER UNTIL WHAT YOU THOUGHT YOU'D ALWAYS HAVE IS GONE and with all of this in mind their IMPULSIVE nature always seems to get them into trouble. may the mother hold them as they navigate this unthinkable time.

CHARACTER BASICS

FULL NAME: Avory Beauvaris

NICKNAMES: That son of a bitch right there, the court whore, bitch ass bob, etc.

PHYSICAL AGE: Thirty-Seven

PSYCHOLOGICAL AGE: Two Hundred Thirty-Two

GENDER IDENTITY & PRONOUNS: Cis man, He/Him

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

FACE CLAIM: Sam Reid

EYE COLOR: Blonde

HAIR COLOR: Blue

HEIGHT: 5′10″

DATE OF BIRTH: August 27th

ZODIAC SIGN: Virgo

SPECIES: Cauldron Made High Fae

COURT: Formerly Day Court, presently Night Court

OCCUPATION: Ambassador of the Night Court

POSITIVE TRAITS: Silver tongue, Perceptive, Resourceful

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Manipulative, Impulsive, Impatient

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral

CHARACTER HISTORY

As the eldest of the Orchis line, delicacy with luxury and duty had been ground into his bones since the day his blonde crown curled to catch the sun in his hair. However, this promise of godlihood was revoked upon the wars of his kind. As compromise and an attempt to keep on eye on such a threat to the crown, the Orchis family was kept in court in a gilded cage.

He never sought power. It had ripped his family and their tapestry of resilience to nothing more than loose threads. When they were summoned to court, he knew their intentions were to keep a potential enemy and threat to the crown close. His loyalty was to those of his name who remained, and he abided by every shackle they placed upon them. They were not guests, and they were not their equals. The Orchis family were pawns and pretty little things to torment sweetly.

He did not object to marriage, but still indulged himself in secret against every rule given to him. His matrimony was just another way to tether him to the castle. This was challenged upon the introduction of a creature he'd never quite seen before, one he was certain was of heavenly descent. They had claimed he'd proven himself to be worthy, full of the fortitude they longed for. He'd been given the chance to escape everything, and he gave in.

By then, the prince that never was had been lost. The Day Court had been given another fair child that was as radiant as morning light, the sweetest summer child that never faded with the turn of the seasons. He took the name of his spouse and was reborn as Avory Beauvaris.

PRESENT DAY

Avory's resilience and fortitude, however, did not serve in the ways his new partner had anticipated. He was infatuated with the new world and old habits would hardly rest— even more so under the guise of such charming magic. Once more, he had wandered away from vows and found solace in the arms of another. His affair lead him to the Night Court, where he proved his loyalty in providing every secret and wonder with ease. He was quick to protect himself and his waning ignorance over the years, demonstrating a new found wisdom to get away with any misstep.

His silver tongue was eventually put to use by the court, elevating him to Ambassador.

PERSONALITY

Avory stands out against the Night Court not only because of his former affiliation to their counterpart, but the remnants of his former self. His hair seems white in their shadows but even the moonlight catches the gilded strands. They come to life under the sun, almost tricking other courts of brighter days that he could be theirs. It proves for an easy manipulation as the familiar will always have the upper hand.

While he does come across as out of place at times, he instills a sense of intrigue. Avory is quick to indulge others in crafted sense of amusement and always finds a way to get what he needs, or the means to meet a request he must fulfill.

He's since lost his need to prove himself, and now relishes even the slightest conflict he can enact. However, he never starts something he can't finish. He's always carefully placed himself in a position to be the catalyst or the remedy.

TLDR

Avory is a cauldron born high fae who was chosen by a member of the day court. The prince who never was in the mortal realm was stolen, and raised into his potential amongst the fae. However, old habits die hard. He started an affair with someone in the Night Court and joined their forced, eventually being recognized for charismatic silver tongue and being promoted to ambassador. It's been quite some time, and he's still fairly new at his new position, but he's a spectacle you have to entertain just to see where it'll go. Otherwise, he has a reputation for being the court whore.

[raphael-angele]

Is it missing donrae hours 😭

I miss them too...

Troy and Raven moments I think about a lot

When Raven came back, Troy would not let him out of his sight. He wanted to make sure that he wasn't dreaming. And speaking of dreaming, they slept on the same bed the first night he was back, mostly because the team didn't have a room for him yet, but also because they missed each other very much and wanted the moment to last.

Raven likes to wear Troy's clothes. It's a boyfriend thing. You know how they're the himbo sunshine x skinny emo kind of relationship? Troy's clothes are too big for Raven. He doesn't mind though. He walks around HQ with Troy's shirt nearly falling off his shoulder and the team doesn't even bat an eye to this. Troy doesn't mind either, he thinks Raven looks adorable in his clothes, especially in his jackets that are too big on him.

Their first date was at a garden cafe. They were out of town on a mission and they had an extra day to kill off so they took advantage of it. They were wearing their civilian clothes and Raven was wearing a pair of eyeglasses and Troy wouldn't stop calling him cute. They walked into the cafe hand in hand (which was also the first time they held hands). Raven noticed how people were staring at them and pulled his hand away from Troy's. His boyfriend looked at him, offended, and took his hand out of his pocket and kept holding it till they got to a table.

On their first month together, Troy got Raven a music box with a deer in it. Raven didn't have anything at the moment but Troy said it was okay and it was just a simple gift he wanted him to have. Raven felt guilty and decided to get him something.

At this point of their relationship, he learned that Troy is (headcanonically) claustrophobic and sometimes scared of the dark. So with a little help from Laurel, he manages to finish the gift before the day ends.

Raven waits until night time to show Troy the gift. They go to Troy's room and all the lights are off. Troy is a bit skeptical and asks what the gift was. Raven flips a switch and the ceiling lights up with small star like lights like it's the actual night sky. The light in the middle was designed to look like the moon. Troy could not have fallen more in love with Raven.

Raven is prone to nightmares. And when they become too much for him to handle, he goes to Troy's room and gets under the covers with him. And sometimes, Troy comes out of the shower and sees that Raven's already tucked in his bed. He doesn't question this and just gets in bed with him.

The first time Troy got severely injured on a mission, Raven didn't leave the side of his bed till he woke up. He stayed with him, just sitting on a chair looking at him till he woke up.

Raven has a sweet tooth and Troy is worried. The first time Troy found out about his sweet tooth was when he gave him cotton candy. Next thing he knew, Raven was begging him for more sugar. This ended with a lot of water, tooth brushing, and a trip to the dentist.

I headcanon that Raven is bisexual but prefer men. So Troy already knows that Raven had past boyfriends. But imagine that they bump into an ex girlfriend on one of their dates. She was nice and just said hi and exchanged a few words before they parted ways. When Troy asked him who that was and said she was an ex girlfriend, Troy needed at least 5 minutes to process that. He asks again and asks why he never told him about it. To which Raven responds, "You never asked. You only wanted to know if I had boyfriends back then."

Troy is possessive and protective of Raven. Especially after he came back. One time, the team decided to have a sleep over in one of the bigger rooms in HQ. Laurel is the first one up and sees Raven asleep on Troy with his head on his chest. Laurel was about to say something when Troy opened his eyes in a glare. Laurel rubbed her eyes and kept saying she saw nothing and that she was still too sleepy.

When it comes to showing possessiveness in public, Troy doesn't hesitate to do anything that everybody can see Raven's taken. There was one time they went to a cafe on a date and this guy could not stop bothering Raven. Though Raven looks completely unbothered, Troy slams their drinks on their table and grabs Raven's chin to kiss him deeply and leaves him whimpering. He turns to the guy and says, "He's taken".

[rosecreates]

OC Questionnaire for the BG3 Unholy Trio

I grabbed this from a few other folks I saw doing this in the BG3 tag~ I made some banners for it even.

NAME: Sylve Aetherwind; she named herself, mind you. She doesn't know if she had a birth name.

NICKNAME: Her mercenary colleagues and other closer acquaintances call her Syl, and people who're afraid of her have dubbed her "The Tempest Archer" (for being like a storm in general and specializing in archery).

GENDER: Female

STAR SIGN: She doesn't know her real birthday, but the one she gave herself is March 8th (or whatever the D&D equivalent of that is), making her a Pisces.

HEIGHT: 5'6'' ft or 168 cm

ORIENTATION: Pansexual

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: High (Sun) Half-Elf, and she only found out what specific kind of elf she is because of some colleagues who figured it out. She doesn't know her actual ethnicity, but being born and raised in Baldur's Gate, she'd say she's pretty much Baldurian.

FAVORITE FRUIT: Peaches

FAVORITE SEASON: Summer

FAVORITE FLOWER: She's not all that big on flowers, to be quite honest. But if she had to pick, maybe sunflowers.

FAVORITE SCENT: The smell of forests, of trees, of nature in general. That is her home to her rather than the city of Baldur's Gate that she had to claw her way from nothing to survive in, left to rot by the elite.

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Hot chocolate.

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 5 or 6, and she's a very light sleeper, so she doesn't tend to rest all that well.

DOGS OR CATS: Dogs

DREAM TRIP: She doesn't really have anywhere in particular she wants to go, because she more so is very fond of the thrill of adventure, and she's traveled to many places in the Sword Coast already. Although she wouldn't be against traveling beyond it, even if just once.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: She usually only has 1, but if she could she'd love to get multiple huge, fluffy blankets and maybe then she'd get a good night's sleep for once.

RANDOM FACT: Perhaps implied by her favorite fruit, but generally speaking Sylve loves sweet things. But given how she tries to hide how much more...well, dorky, for lack of a better word, she is deep down, she keeps it secret. She overall tries to portray herself fairly seriously, but it becomes apparent with time that as strong and capable as she is...she's pretty silly in actuality. Just ask her colleagues, they all have plenty of stories to tell about her.

NAME: Adoptive name is Raven Mizzrym, birth name is Raven Chandara.

NICKNAME: She's been jokingly called Rave before and up until getting tadpoled killed or at least threatened the majority who ever called her that. I think she'd end up called songbird by Astarion given her name and affinity for singing, and she liked it enough she let him keep calling her that. She'd not be opposed per se to being called Ray either, but thus far I doubt anyone would call her that.

GENDER: Female

STAR SIGN: Her birthday is July 20th (or the D&D equivalent of it), making her star sign Cancer.

HEIGHT: 5'4'' ft or 163 cm

ORIENTATION: Bisexual, tending to prefer women at least on the sexual front. She's never been in love before, so she can't say much there.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: A Drow, though debatably may have some non-Drow ancestors given her hair color, but her birth mother never told her. Born and raised in Menzoberranzan in the Underdark.

FAVORITE FRUIT: Cranberries

FAVORITE SEASON: Spring

FAVORITE FLOWER: Azaleas

FAVORITE SCENT: She loves floral scents in general, but jasmine is probably her favorite. It's exactly what she smells like, actually... (she buys all the jasmine perfumes she can get from surface merchants in the Bazaar and always applies it daily).

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Tea. Jasmine tea, specifically (jasmines are definitely her second favorite flower, and in her opinion it's quite unfortunate there isn't much perfume or tea blends for azaleas, but jasmines are good too).

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: As a Drow, she need only trance for 4 hours, which she usually gets with minimal issue. Her head is her domain; she wills bad memories away with ease, despite them trying quite often to flood her mind.

DOGS OR CATS: Cats

DREAM TRIP: She doesn't have much of a proper answer, beyond just wanting to explore the surface.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: She needs at least 3, will not settle for anything less. Absolute blanket hog your honor.

RANDOM FACT: I believe I may've mentioned it before, but Raven hates the sun. Even when tadpoled and therefore immune to the penalties sunlight deals her, she still hates it. Too bright. She prefers the night through-and-through. Sometimes the party has to drag her out of her tent because she's being dramatic about how much she does not want to go out in sunlight. Eventually picks up a parasol from a dead nobleman and starts using it to help against sunlight. She gives it to Astarion in the endgame when his tadpole and therefore sunlight immunity vanishes, saying he needs it more and she'll get herself an even fancier one anyway...to mask her genuinely wanting to help him in some manner.

NAME: Nimue Winterbell

NICKNAME: Most people call her Nim, both before and after her amnesia. Before her amnesia, the people of Baldur's Gate knew her as the 'White Mask Killer' since what bit people could see of her was mostly her white cloak and white mask, and she even had her own mark she left when she murdered people.

GENDER: Unlabeled, shifts between leaning feminine and androgynous, and utilizes she/they pronouns.

STAR SIGN: She doesn't know her birthday, and even pre-amnesia she didn't think assigning a birthday to her befit her and refused to acknowledge the birthday given to her by her foster parents.

HEIGHT: 5'8'' or 173 cm

ORIENTATION: Unlabeled, she likes who she likes, that's all that matters to her.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: A Bhaalspawn modeled after a High (Moon) Elf. Baldurian.

FAVORITE FRUIT: Cherries

FAVORITE SEASON: Winter. She loves the snow, and the cold doesn't bother her.

FAVORITE FLOWER: Lilies

FAVORITE SCENT: Blood- The sea.

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Coffee

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: Bhaalspawn she may be, but she is still modeled after an elf, and therefore needs to trance only 4 hours. But she rarely properly gets that, her rest always being extremely fitful, haunted by memories that both vaguely do and vaguely don't feel like her own.

DOGS OR CATS: Cats

DREAM TRIP: She'd love to go just about anywhere that has a beautiful view of the sea. Or even sailing a bit.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: 1 or 2 are fine.

RANDOM FACT: A habit she retains from before her amnesia is that she often goes skinny dipping during the night either when she can't trance much or when she's tranced enough, as swimming is very calming for her. She also has zero concept of shame, at least in regards to being naked; it's just her (forever tainted, drenched in blood, twisted imitation of an elf-) body. She sees no reason to feel shame.