#and i thought about Dr Stone maybe?

[mercurymacaroons]

woagh 2 posts in one day

[being-of-rain]

I just reread Hunters of the Burning Stone for funsies and it's just so so good. I can't think of many other Doctor Who stories in any medium that are so jam-packed with references to the show's history, while never feeling like they're unnecessary. They all add to the plot, to the emotional arcs, and to the delightful meta-commentary on Dr Who as a whole. It really has no competition in my mind for the best of the many stories put out to celebrate the 50th anniversary.

Also, I need to find some creative way to express how much I love Scott Gray's Dr Who comics, because I just have too many thoughts about them 😂 every post I go to make about one aspect of them threatens to bubble over with thoughts about the rest and all of them as a whole, and become (potentially repetitive and boring) gushing.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tear In My Heart

Aemond never cared for tourneys, for hunts, nor for any sort of pageantry; he supposed marriage fell in that category. To be frank, he never cared for you either, but then he heard whispers about you and his brother, and then thought, maybe he somehow did.

Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!Reader x Aegon Targaryen | 2k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has baratheon feature (dark hair), wife!reader, arranged marriage, jealousy, possessiveness, infidelity, men being men, angst, violence/hunting for sport/death, typos, etc.

A/N: mind the tags! This is part of my graduation celebration 🩷🩷🩷🩷 slayed college. Let's pretend I posted this on schedule lmao. The hotd trailers really brought me to life. Part of this fic is inspired by the 2014 french beauty and the beast film.

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @thebullship @sa3losa @lxdyred

Brother.

What was he?

The word was a stone, heavy but worthless. Nothing ever came from a brother besides bluntness, brashness, and bludgeoning burdens.

No kindness befell Aemond from his brother Aegon. Likewise, Aegon long knew to expect nothing but vexation from Aemond.

Yet even the most broken of bonds are bound back under the great unifier— Death.

Never before had the brothers worked towards a common goal so fast, so easily, and all without needing to utter a word. Together, they carry their game back to their camp, equally ignoring the burn of their arms.

Aemond loathed hunting expeditions. He loathed it then, he wholeheartedly abhorred it now. He regrets forcing himself into this godforsaken trip. He should have let you go on it alone, like always.

He regrets letting his slimy older brother getting under his skin. He regrets listening to all the rumors about Aegon and you. But in his defense—

"I MAY BE BLIND IN ONE EYE," Aemond snaps, causing you to flinch. He had never raised his voice at you like this before. He despises how shocked you look, how your bright eyes accused that he was wrong. It makes him fume, "but I see clearer than most."

Aemond is further irritated when your eyes began to water.

You, who was otherwise so well-kept and pristine, were falling apart in front of him. The wayward strands of dark hair framing your face irked him. The momentary thought of his children inheriting this trait added fuel to his anger. If, that is, whatever child you'd bear was even his to begin with.

"You are whoring yourself to my bovine brother!"

Your chest heaves heavily beneath your nightgown, "you would happily believe any slander to my name."

He scoffs when tears begin to fall from your cheeks. He paces towards the bed, unbothered if the issue is left unresolved. He'd rather sleep than watch you sob. The latter left a rather bitter taste in his mouth.

"What have I been but docile and serving?"

"Serving?" Aemond turns back, one eye narrowed, "to whom? Your greed and lust?"

"TO YOU!"

Aemond slightly pulls his head back, not expecting you to scream. He watches a spirit take over you. It was similar to that of the one that sometimes causes him to stare at you from across the room.

You suck in a breath, "do you not complain about Aegon day in and day out?" You blink rapidly and point harshly, "do you not wish him away and want him out of your hair, husband?"

"Don't you twist the truth for your-"

"I played his keeper so that you wouldn't have to," you motion, "I kept him in check so that you could do your errands, help your grandfather, go on your dragon rides, and yet you say you see clearer than most?"

"I saw you," he hisses, grabbing your shoulders.

You gasp and go rigid.

"I saw you embrace him in the cloak of night, in the corner of the gardens, where you thought no one could see."

You catch betrayal in his words, but it only causes you to chuckle dryly, "had you not lurked in the darkness, you'd have known he vomited on my shoulder and nearly passed out. Perhaps you would have felt compelled to help me drag him to his chambers."

Aemond clenches his jaw. He does not believe you.

You swat his hands away. You shake your head, "you're just a man. You're bored of what you have and want what you cannot."

"Ha. You are delusional if you think I want you."

You cannot help the sound that leaves your lips. You cannot help how you slap a hand to your mouth.

In that split second, Aemond spots the hurt on your face before you walk past him to your side of the bed.

You pull the covers down, "worry not. I've long accepted you will never want me."

"Oh," he growls, grabbing your arm before you can sit down, "and is that why you turn to my brother? Or why you leap at every chance to leave?'"

You wince as you turn to him.

"Now that I think about it, why is it you're invited to hunting expeditions so often?" Aemond demands under an angered breath, "d'you seek refuge in the-"

"I RUN INTO THE FOREST!" you hiss, shoving him away. His grip left a sting on your flesh and you rub it as you continue to burstp, "I run into the forest and let my instincts take over! I let myself shift into a beast and I run wild like a deer, begging to be shot down."

Aemond expression sours at your reaction.

"I live my curse as a Baratheon woman and morph into a doe, bullied by stags and dragons alike," you shudder, tears running down your face.

"Don't you play the victim here," he rebuts, "your family offered you to mine for power."

"Then why is it that I am so powerless, husband?"

Aemond doesn't bother watching you walk away, slamming the door shut on your way out.

Aggravation spills from his mouth through screams when silence drowns him. There is an ache in his chest that intensifies. It doesn't take long for him to question why he felt so hurt when what he was is angry, angry at you.

He then finds himself imagining you throwing yourself at Aegon, weeping on his lap. He imagines Aegon brushing your dark tresses back and drying your tears. It infuriates him more.

And as he convinced himself whilst in fumes that the reason why he hated your leave was how rudely you left, parts of his nightmares where coming true.

Aegon saw you storming down the hall in nothing but a nightgown, a cloak, and tears. He was too drunk to actually ascertain if you had no shoes on, but he was partially sure that there were truly tears running down your neck.

He was shocked by how shocked you were when he grabbed you by the arms and stopped you in your tracks. He knew you to have eyes that could spot a needle in a haystack, or real jewels from fake ones ten paces away. How could you not have noticed him when he wasn't even trying to hide how he staggered down the halls on his way back to his room?

"Spooked, kitty cat?" Aegon furrows his brows.

Your skin definitely had a damp sheen to it. Your gaze upon him somehow always hurt his thorax but it was amplified now with how puffy and red your eyes were.

"Where 'r'you storming off to?" he slurs.

You push him away, but even then you managed to offer consideration, as it was clear he was one shove away from dropping. You say, "unhand me, Aegon. I have no time for you tonight."

He pouts, blinking slowly, "and here I thought we were friends now."

You laugh. Your laugh has always had the power to make his spine tingle, but it was different this time. You shake your head, "the enemy of my enemy is not my friend."

Aegon slowly releases you. He clenches his jaw and sighs, "so it's Aemond who did this."

You scoff as you break away from him, "oh, spare me."

He watches you walk away from him. He feels hurt by your coldness. How quickly Aemond reaps your warmth. He calls out, "from what?"

You stop and snap from over your shoulder, "from whatever it is you think you can do!"

He was sober now, and his throat was dry at that.

"My burden is mine. I am his wife."

"And am to be king," he whispers, taking a step forward. He watches as you heave. He's long wondered what it would feel like to hear it as you did so beneath him.

"But you are not king," you reply, stepping back to maintain the space between you, "and you have your sister wife."

"Who would deny me?" he peers his face closer to you, "even a fool would deny me nothing."

"I would," you rebut.

He freezes.

"I am prize to you," you muffle out. Your manage an even voice even as hurt baptizes your cheeks, "meat between your teeth. You and him are cut from the same cloth."

"I AM NOT MY BROTHER, " Aegon snaps.

You flinch, just as you did Aegon. You shake your head and force a smile, "of course not, your grace."

The next moment, Aegon realizes he may not have been as sober as he thought, considering how quickly you fled him and how delayed his reaction to it was.

But then again, it was probably just you and your effect on him. After all, he managed to evade the incoming attack from behind, albeit momentarily; Aemond's senses were far shaper than Aegon's.

He grabs his older brother by the collar and shoves him against the wall. "All my life, I watched you be spoon-fed your desires, yet still you covet my bride," the younger Targaryen rages.

Aegon grins in challenge. He chuckles, "as it appears, you covet your own wife from me, brother."

Without warning, the first born is hurtled to the ground. He lets out an undignified grunt after he collides with the stone. He gasps when Aemond lunges at him.

It was only at this moment, he realized his brother without his eye patch. Dare he say that the sight of the sapphire added to the madness in is functioning eye.

Aemond produces a dagger and presses it to Aegon's neck. The former seethes, "I have every right to demand satisfaction from you."

Aegon groans when the cold steel kisses his skin too tenderly.

"You wouldn't last a second against me," the prince spits with venom, "brother."

"Do it then," Aegon screws his eyes shut, "and watch your marriage crumble before your very eyes."

Aemond throws his dagger to the side and slams Aegon once, "DO NOT TRY TO TRICK ME! I saw her reel from your touch."

"Oh," he utters through pain, "just as she reels from you, I bet."

Aemond releases him with a growl and heaves while looking down at him. He paces around; Aegon props himself up on his elbows, slowly coming to a stand.

Before Aegon can goad him on any further, Aemond grabs his dagger and pushes past him.

Both of them anxiously await your return that night. Aegon falls asleep whilst waiting for word from a servant, Aemond fights sleep whilst waiting for you to return to bed.

Yes, in Aemond's defense, the rumors about you and his brother was enough reason to pick a fight. In his defense, it was his right.

And for the first time, when you received invite for that hunting expedition with your cousin, no longer did he send you off on your own. He was keen to keep you at his side at all times, especially because Aegon weaseled his way into joining.

Aemond did not know why your cousin was so against the idea of hunting a stag. He was, in fact, offended by the Baratheon's adamant decline. The lesser lord dared even imply such a beast was beyond his caliber. He wasn't surprised you sided with your him, imploring Aemond to try his hand another season. What spurred him on was how Aegon agreed with you and how you looked at him when he smiled your way.

Yet, the spite he bore for his brother was the same thing that led to cooperation with him.

That night, when you thought he was sleeping, Aemond followed you outside. When you were nowhere to be seen when he got out of your shared tent, he stormed to his brother's, sure to catch you in the act.

All he got was a startled brother, cuddling up to a pillow when he ripped his blanket off, a naked one at that.

And after a bit of arguing, Aemond saw a shadow of a deer passing outside the tent. That was how the brothers ended up in the forest. Aemond was intent to hunt that stag and Aegon was intent to watch him fail.

Again, in his defense, it was dark. In his defense, of course he wouldn't believe Aegon when he said that they were stalking a doe and not a stag.

Aemond was satisfied with his shot when he heard the beast cry out in pain. Aegon was satisfied when they found the writhing deer to be, in fact a doe.

It was common knowledge not to hunt the female of a species, yet the two debated whether or not they should let the injured animal go free or put it out of its misery. They thought they received the answer when the animal dropped in agony, but instead they received horror that would last them lifetimes upon witnessing the beast morph into a bride.

Your bare body laid before them, stomach pierced with an arrow. No traces of a doe was left, there was only pain and you. Tremors took over your body. Yolur tears flowed as steady as the blood from your gaping wound.

Aemond fell to your side, eye wide as he reached out to you. He thought a touch of your trembling flesh wake him from this nightmare, but it didn't. His mind raced, but he had a moment of clarity when he felt your blood dampen his knees.

He took off his shirt and covered you. You screamed in pain when he tried to carry you by himself, and he glared at his brother when he tried to help.

Aemond does not stop him however, thus, the brothers carried your body back to camp.

When you were laid on your shared bed, Aemond ordered Aegon to wake everyone and ready a carriage back to the city. His brother runs off to do just that.

"This will hurt," Aemond tells you, "but I must cut part of the arrow and bind your wound."

Before he can do so, you wet his face with the blood on your hand as you whine, "why do you weep for me?"

Aemond's brows furrow.

You swipe your thumb on his cheek with great difficulty. "Soon you will have the freedom you desire," you mumble, eyes slowly closing, "as will I."

The pain that courses through you when your husband breaks off part of your arrow prevents you from passing out.

As an extra precaution, Aemond taps your cheek, "keep your eyes fixed on me."

Your sad eyes open. Your tears gush down like rain.

"Is this why you're invited to hunt so often?" he cups your cheek, shaking you slightly, "does your cousin, himself, turn into a stag?"

Your reply does not come easy. You speak between your breaths, "it is a curse from my father... for hunting so many of them..."

There is commotion from outside your tent.

Aemond has the mind to grab some fabric to press on your wound. You cry out again because of this.

"Why didn't you tell me of your affliction?" he speak in panic.

Stabbing pain cuts off the laugh you meant to laugh. Your breath shortens, yet you manage a response, "would you have listened?"

He must admit, all the prayers he ever prayed were only uttered to please his mother, but as Aemond held half your body in the carriage back to King's Landing, as he watched Aegon's tears fall onto you while he held your other half, he prayed as earnestly as any pious man would. He claimed he would be better, he would even share you, if that is what it took to keep you.

And just as easily as Death unified the Targaryen brothers, she collected your soul the same night.

[elysiaheaven]

𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠- 𝐃𝐫 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨 𝐱 𝐅.𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (Smut)

Words:6000

Genre: Smut

Summary: You decided to help him create a alabaster sculpture, after he broke it. He invites you to a bath, Only to fucking read a damned book

CW: Mentions of Hickey, Marking, Degradation, Overstimulation, Bondage kink, Dom Ratio, Bottom y/n, Dirty talks, Fingering, Rough sex,

You stand in Dr. Ratio’s dimly lit workplace, the faint scent of drying plaster and damp stone lingering in the air. Sunlight filters through tall windows, casting long shadows across the half-finished sculptures and scattered tools. A broken alabaster headpiece sits on a table nearby, the remnants of his last attempt—one that shattered due to his frustration.

He’s leaning over a block of clay now, his wavy violet hair obscuring the sharp focus in his eyes as he meticulously carves details into the surface. You try to suppress a smile, but you can’t help it. Despite his irritable and sarcastic nature, you adore him.

“Focus,” Ratio’s voice slices through your thoughts. He glances at your work with a smirk that borders on condescension. “If you’re going to waste my time, at least try to do it properly.”

You huff, rolling your eyes at his sharp tongue, though deep down, you find comfort in the familiar banter. After all, this wasn’t about proving yourself to him. It was about being close to him—no matter how cruel he sometimes tried to be. He enjoyed teasing you, and you let him because, well… you loved him.

Your hands move over the clay in front of you, smoothing out the rough edges as you try to mirror his techniques. Every movement is deliberate, as if he’s watching your every misstep.

It hadn’t always been this way.

There was a time you were with Aventurine, a bond you once thought would last. The two of you shared long nights under the stars, discussing investments and strategies in a way only the IPC’s brightest could. But things changed after a specific incident—a time where you felt doubt creep into your relationship, where you felt unsure of what you wanted. Topaz offered you a new position, a way out of the pressure you had put on yourself with Aventurine. And you took it.

He made you forget it

You and Ratio met not long after that. You worked together, your skills and ambitions clashing but complementing one another in unexpected ways. It wasn’t until one fateful night in Penacony, that he confessed.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” Ratio had said, his usual confidence flickering for the briefest moment. “You and Aventurine… you were something. I don’t want to be the rebound—don't want to be the second choice. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel something for you. So, there. I’ve said it. Do with that what you will.”

Your heart had pounded in your chest, unsure of how to respond. You nodded, too overwhelmed with emotions to find the words. That had been the turning point. Now, you stood by his side, his lover, his student, and more.

“You’re messing up the contours again,” he snaps, pulling you back to the present. “Are you even paying attention?”

“Maybe if you weren’t so mean about it, I’d do better,” you mutter under your breath, not entirely joking. His eyes narrow slightly, but the corner of his lips twitch upward, betraying a smirk.

"Maybe," he replies, setting his tools down and crossing his arms. "But then where’s the fun in that?"

You give him a playful glare and return to your work, but his presence beside you is comforting. He walks over, looming behind you. His muscular build casts a shadow over your small sculpture, and without warning, his hands cover yours. He guides you in carving smoother lines, his touch both firm and surprisingly gentle.

“You’re making it too complicated,” he murmurs in your ear, his voice low but full of that familiar arrogance. “Simplicity is key. Don’t overthink it.”

The sensation of his breath on your neck sends shivers down your spine. He’s close, too close for you to focus on the task. But you pretend, anyway.

“Is this better?” you ask, turning your head slightly to meet his reddish-pink eyes. They flicker with something unspoken, but he nods after a moment, letting go of your hands.

“Passable,” he says, moving away, but you catch the faintest trace of a smile.

The hours pass in a comfortable silence, the two of you working on the new alabaster headpiece for him. His sharp criticisms gradually soften into suggestions, and eventually, you create something he approves of—a new sculpture, perfect for him to wear.

You take a step back, admiring the finished product with pride.

He picks it up, turning it over in his hands before placing it on his head, the alabaster gleaming in the light. He looks at you, his usual smugness replaced with a rare moment of sincerity. “Not bad,” he says.

It’s as close to a compliment as you’re going to get, but it’s enough.

Ratio steps closer, his eyes locking onto yours. “You’ve done well,” he murmurs, voice lowering as he reaches out to gently tilt your chin up. “And… I’m glad you stayed, despite everything.”

Your breath catches, and for a moment, the world feels still, the air between you heavy with unspoken words. He leans in slowly, his lips brushing yours in a soft, almost hesitant kiss. It’s brief, but the warmth lingers as he pulls back, eyes searching yours.

“And don’t think for a second that means I’ll be easier on you,”

You roll your eyes..

You stand back to admire your work, you don’t realize your hands are still caked in clay until you try to brush a stray hair out of your face. The smudge leaves a streak across your cheek, and when you look down, your clothes are covered in it too. You groan softly, trying to wipe it off, but it only smears further.

“You’re a mess,” Dr. Ratio’s voice comes from behind you, rich with amusement.

Before you can respond, his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into him. His muscular frame is warm against your back, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he holds you close. He leans his chin lightly on your shoulder, his violet hair brushing your skin as his reddish-pink eyes lock onto yours in the reflection of a nearby glass pane. There’s a playfulness in his gaze, but also something deeper, something that makes your heart race.

"You’re dirty right now,” he murmurs, his voice carrying that usual commanding tone, though softer than usual.

You twist in his arms, a teasing grin forming on your lips. “Or maybe you’re just too clean,” you whisper before leaning up to kiss him lightly, just brushing the surface of his lips.

Ratio’s eyes darken as he narrows his gaze at you. The air between you crackles with tension, and for a moment, he just stares at you, unblinking. “I’m the one who kissed you, right?” he says, his voice low and dangerous.

You barely have time to react before he cups the back of your neck and crashes his lips onto yours, kissing you with a fierce intensity that sends a wave of heat rushing through your body. His grip tightens slightly, pulling you even closer, and you melt into him, losing yourself in the moment.

His lips move against yours with practiced precision, but there’s an underlying hunger, a need that he’s finally letting surface. He tilts your head slightly, deepening the kiss, and you can feel him smile against your lips when you gasp softly. There’s something both possessive and tender in the way he holds you—like he’s teaching you how to give in completely.

After a moment, Ratio pulls back just enough to speak, his voice huskier than before. “You need to stop teasing if you want to learn,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

You feel his lips brush yours again, slower this time, more deliberate. His hands guide your face as he kisses you deeper, teaching you the rhythm he wants. His tongue traces your lower lip, coaxing a response from you as his kiss grows more insistent, almost like he’s showing you every secret behind his confident, often cold demeanor.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you lean into him, completely lost in his touch. The clay on your hands leaves marks on his skin and clothes, but neither of you care. The world fades around you as Ratio pours all his frustration, passion, and unspoken feelings into the kiss, guiding you with every motion, every shift of his lips against yours.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing heavily, the air between you charged. His eyes search yours, and the usual smugness in his expression is softened by something more vulnerable, more real.

“I hope you’re paying attention,” he whispers, his thumb brushing your cheek lightly. “Because I’m not going to repeat that lesson.”

You cross your arms and give Ratio a teasing grin, knowing exactly how to push his buttons. "I didn’t get it," you say, feigning innocence, "Maybe I need a few more lessons." You bat your eyes playfully, knowing full well what you’re doing.

Ratio sighs, his lips twitching in that familiar mix of amusement and frustration. "You’re impossible, you know that?" His eyes narrow, though there’s a glint in them that says he’s not entirely annoyed. He looks down at both of you, noticing the clay smeared across your clothes, his shirt, and even your hair. "Look at us, we’re both a mess." He runs a hand through his wavy violet hair, now streaked with bits of clay. "I’m going to take a bath."

He turns to walk away, his tone casual as if what he’s about to say next is no big deal. "You should join me."

You hesitate, unsure if he’s serious. "It’s okay, I’ll—"

Ratio turns his head slightly, raising an eyebrow as if challenging you. "I don’t believe you," he says, his voice low and smooth, leaving no room for argument. His eyes flicker with something unreadable. "You’ll join me."

You swallow, your heart racing as you nod, not entirely sure what’s pulling you into this but unable to say no.

You don’t know how it happened, but here you are—submerged in fragrant, warm water, the scent of rose petals filling the air as they float lazily on the surface. The steam curls up around the edges of the large marble tub, wrapping around you like a blanket. You’re sitting across from Ratio, both of you completely naked, the water lapping softly against your skin.

Ratio, in typical fashion, looks completely unbothered. He’s reclining back, his eyes skimming over the pages of a book he must’ve grabbed on the way in. His muscles are relaxed, his toned form half-submerged in the water, and yet there’s something almost regal about the way he sits—completely in control, even in this intimate setting.

Meanwhile, you’re blushing furiously, trying to keep your eyes from wandering. The bubbles and rose petals do a decent job of covering the most vulnerable parts of your body, but it doesn’t stop the heat rising in your cheeks. You bite your lip, the silence between you heavy, but neither of you speaks. The only sound is the gentle sloshing of water and the occasional soft rustle as Ratio turns the page of his book.

A small yellow rubber duck bobs between you two, bumping against your knee. You can’t help but huff in annoyance. Here you are, completely flustered, and Ratio is sitting there, reading—acting as if this is the most normal thing in the world.

"Seriously?" you mutter under your breath, half-joking but half-frustrated. "You’re just going to ignore me and read your book? Insensitive much?"

Ratio doesn’t even look up from his book, though you can see the slight curve of a smirk on his lips. "You’re the one who said you didn’t get it," he says, his tone maddeningly calm. "Maybe if you paid more attention, I wouldn’t have to keep teaching you."

Your eyes narrow, but before you can retort, his gaze finally flicks up to meet yours. His reddish-pink eyes, framed by the soft curls of violet hair, pierce through you, making your breath catch. There’s something dark and amused in his expression, as if he’s enjoying every bit of your frustration.

"Do you want my attention, or are you just trying to be difficult?" His voice is smooth, but there’s a challenge hidden underneath it, one that makes your heart pound even faster.

You huff, crossing your arms as you stare at him, the frustration building. “You’re so unromantic,” you complain, your voice edging into a whine. “We’re in a bath together, surrounded by rose petals, and you’re just… reading?”

Ratio doesn’t even flinch, casually turning another page in his book. “The rose petals,” he says, his tone as indifferent as ever, “are for the scent. Nothing more.”

You blink at him, completely thrown off. “For the scent? You’re kidding, right?” Your eyes narrow, and you give him a look that clearly says you’re unimpressed. “Who puts rose petals in a bath just for the scent? That’s such a ridiculous excuse.”

Finally, he lowers his book slightly, glancing at you with a cold, unreadable expression. “It’s not an excuse. It’s practical.” His voice carries that usual sharpness, cutting through the thick steam around you. “Do you want the truth, or do you prefer fantasies?”

Your frustration boils over, and you push yourself up from the bath, the water cascading down your skin as you start to stand. “Unbelievable!” you mutter under your breath. “I don’t need lessons on scents from someone who doesn’t understand basic romance.”

But before you can fully rise, Ratio’s hand shoots out, gripping your wrist with surprising speed. In one swift motion, he pulls you back down into the water, his strength undeniable as you fall against his chest. The splash sends water spilling over the sides of the tub, and the air between you crackles with tension.

“Sit,” he commands, his voice low and firm, not giving you a chance to argue.

You glare at him, but your body goes still as you feel his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer. His skin is warm against yours, and his touch sends a shiver down your spine, despite your irritation. He leans forward, his breath hot against your ear as he speaks, his tone slower now, more deliberate.

“You want romance?” His voice is barely a whisper, yet it sends a jolt through you. “Let me teach you something about scent.”

His hand trails up your arm, pausing to brush away a strand of wet hair from your face. “Scent is powerful,” he murmurs, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “It’s not just for decoration, it’s a signal. A memory. The roses… you’re not paying attention to what they’re really doing.”

You shiver, his words sinking in as he continues. “Roses have always been a symbol of passion, of longing. Their scent is designed to linger, to invade your senses.” His hands move up to cup your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. “When you think of this moment, the scent of these petals will remind you of it—whether you like it or not.”

Your heart races, your breath coming in shallow as Ratio’s eyes hold yours, his intensity making it impossible to look away. His voice drops even lower, a subtle challenge laced within. “So, tell me again, is this unromantic? Or are you simply unaware of what’s really happening around you?”

You’re speechless, caught between the frustration you felt moments ago and the way his words now swirl in your mind. Before you can gather a response, Ratio smirks faintly, brushing his thumb against your lips.

“Next time, think before you act. You’ll find there’s more to everything than what you see on the surface.” He leans in, his lips hovering close to yours but not quite touching. “Now… do you still need another lesson, or have you learned enough?”

His words hang in the air, and you realize you’re clinging to him, your frustration long forgotten. The rose petals drift around you, their scent now intoxicating as you sit there, your body pressed against his. You bite your lip, but the heat in your cheeks is impossible to hide.

“Maybe…” you whisper, eyes half-lidded as you lean into him, “I need just one more lesson.”

As the kiss deepens, Ratio’s hands move with deliberate precision, pulling away just enough to look into your eyes. He releases you from his embrace, his fingers trailing lightly down your arms, leaving a trail of tingling warmth.

“Let’s add a little more… complexity to your lesson,” Ratio murmurs, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. He reaches over to a nearby cabinet and retrieves a soft, silk blindfold. The fabric glides between his fingers as he holds it up, inspecting it with a contemplative look.

You blink, your heart pounding as he brings the blindfold closer. “What are you—”

Before you can finish, Ratio gently but firmly places the blindfold over your eyes, tying it securely behind your head. The darkness is immediate and complete, enveloping you in a world of black.

You shift uncomfortably, trying to adjust to the sudden loss of sight. The warmth of the bath and Ratio’s presence are the only things grounding you now. “Ratio… what’s this about?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, you hear him move around, the soft rustle of his clothing and the gentle splash of water filling your senses. “Studies show that when you can’t see what’s happening,” he starts, his voice a smooth, calming presence in the darkness, “your brain becomes more attuned to other senses. Touch, sound, scent—they all become heightened. It’s a fascinating phenomenon.”

You shiver, your skin tingling with anticipation and curiosity. “And what does that mean for me?”

“It means,” he says, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper, “that you’re going to experience everything in a new way.” His fingers brush lightly against your arm, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “You’ll have to rely on your other senses to understand what’s happening.”

His touch is feather-light, making you shiver as he explores your skin with a practiced, teasing touch. His fingertips graze your shoulders, your neck, and the small of your back, each touch sending waves of sensation through you. The silk blindfold leaves you feeling both vulnerable and exhilarated, heightening every whisper of his touch, every movement.

Ratio’s voice becomes a soft murmur, though it’s clear he’s enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “When the brain can’t see, it often fills in gaps with what it already knows or anticipates,” he explains. “It’s a way of adapting, of creating a picture from incomplete information. Right now, you’re creating an experience based on the limited input you’re receiving.”

You feel his breath against your ear, and his voice lowers even more, almost a purr. “The question is, how much of this can you interpret? How much will you understand without seeing it?”

His hands move to your waist, guiding you gently but firmly. His touch is both confident and tender, each caress and stroke meticulously designed to draw out your reactions. You can’t help but respond, your body leaning into his touch, the warmth and closeness of him filling your senses.

A soft, playful chuckle escapes him. “You’re reacting quite beautifully. It’s interesting how the brain can be so focused on sensation when it’s deprived of sight.” He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he continues, his voice a low, intimate whisper. “Every touch, every sound, every breath I take is magnified for you. Your mind is building an image of me, of what I’m doing, based on what you feel.”

His hands wander gently over your body, teasingly exploring every inch of your skin, making you squirm and gasp with each new sensation. The anticipation and the unknown heighten every touch, every whisper, making your pulse race.

Ratio’s fingers trail up to your neck, his touch light yet purposeful. “Tell me,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin, “what do you think I’m doing now? Can you imagine it? Can you sense the intention behind each touch?”

You breathe heavily, trying to focus on the sensations he’s providing, each one building a complex picture in your mind. “I… I think you’re—”

He cuts you off with another teasing touch, his fingertips tracing slow, deliberate patterns on your skin. “Think harder,” he encourages, his voice laced with amusement. “The more you pay attention, the clearer the picture becomes.”

Ratio’s lips brush lightly against your ear, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. His kisses are soft, teasing, a gentle press of warmth that contrasts with the cool air around you. The blindfold makes everything feel more intense, each touch and kiss magnified in the darkness.

You gasp softly as his lips move along the sensitive skin of your ear, trailing slow, deliberate kisses. His breath is warm and teasing against your skin, and each soft touch makes you more aware of how sensitive you are to his every move.

His hands, still resting on your waist, move upward with a tender, almost reverent touch. He explores the contours of your shoulders and neck, his fingers brushing lightly over the sensitive skin there. Each touch feels like it’s designed to provoke a response, making you squirm and lean into him more.

Ratio’s lips continue their path along your ear, his kisses growing more insistent, more lingering. He traces the outer edge of your ear with his lips, planting soft kisses along the delicate folds. The contrast between the soft, teasing kisses and the firm grip of his hands makes every sensation feel more intense, more immediate.

“You’re very responsive,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “It’s fascinating how much the brain can focus on when it’s deprived of sight. You’re feeling everything more acutely.”

His fingers trace slow, deliberate circles on your neck, drawing patterns that make you shiver with anticipation. The warmth of his touch contrasts with the cool air around you, creating a heightened sense of awareness. Each kiss, each caress, seems to build a growing tension, an almost unbearable anticipation of what’s coming next.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to whisper in your ear, his voice soft and intimate. “Do you feel how much more vivid everything is? How each touch is amplified because you can’t see it?”

Before you can answer, Ratio’s lips find their way back to your ear, his kisses becoming more fervent. His tongue occasionally flicks out to trace the delicate skin, each movement precise and deliberate. You feel his hands gently slide from your neck to the sides of your torso, his touch both gentle and commanding.

His kisses become more exploratory, his lips moving to the sensitive spots just behind your ear. The sensation is almost overwhelming, making your breathing come in short, erratic bursts. He continues to tease you with soft, lingering kisses, his touch expertly calibrated to make you shiver and gasp.

“I want you to understand,” he murmurs, his voice a seductive whisper, “how every sensation is magnified when you can’t see. It’s a lesson in perception and anticipation.” He leans in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear in a way that makes your pulse quicken. “Each touch, each kiss, is meant to make you feel more intensely. I want you to remember this feeling.”

Then! Life was tooo good! He told you a business and you were ready to suck it off!

You immediately got down to business.

You did everything as carefully as possible and delayed the process in order to tease Veritas and see how he would react. He was reacting, even if he barely showed it. His breathing was labored, but he was still looking at you with the same arrogance.

You continue your meticulous work, you're keenly aware of every reaction from Ratio. His breaths grow heavier, his arrogant gaze softening just a fraction. But still, he maintains that cool demeanor, watching you intently as you go about your task.

With each teasing delay, each flick of your tongue, you sense his control slipping. Yet, he holds onto his composure, refusing to show you any satisfaction until you've earned it.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity of torturous pleasure, you taste the first signs of his release. His cock twitches in your hand, pulsing as thick spurts of cum coat your tongue. You try to pull away, wanting to avoid the mess, but his grip tightens in your hair, yanking you back down.

"No, keep going," he commands, his voice strained but still commanding. "Take it all."

His command sends another wave of arousal through your body, and despite yourself, you comply. You continue to suck and lick, taking in every last drop of his cum while he watches, his eyes burning with a mix of satisfaction and possession.

When he finally pulls free, you gasp for air, your mouth slick with his seed. But before you can wipe your lips clean, he binds your wrists behind your back, then grabs a length of rope and begins tying a blindfold around your eyes.

"Let's see how well you do without being able to watch me," he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous. "And remember, every point you earn gets you closer to freedom."

Without warning, he plunges a digit inside you, feeling your walls clench around him instinctively. Hmm, looks like you're already quite ready for my cock, he muses, adding another finger to stretch you wider.

Ratio continues to explore your depths with his fingers, his movements deliberate and calculated. "As you can feel, your inner muscles are already contracting around me," he explains, his voice a low purr against your ear. "This is a natural response to stimulation, a sign of your body's readiness for penetration."

His fingers curl inward, rubbing against that sensitive spot deep within you. "The G-spot, as it's commonly known, is actually an area of concentrated nerve endings," he continues, his words a sensual counterpoint to the sensations he's evoking. "Stimulation here can lead to intense pleasure and even orgasm."

He adds a third finger, stretching you further as he applies gentle pressure to your clit. "Your body's reactions are telling me that you're highly responsive to these types of touches," he notes, his tone clinical yet infused with dark desire.

Ratio's fingers delve deeper, you can't help but cry out, your moans echoing in the room. "It's too much," you whimper, but the truth is far different. Your body craves more, hungers for the fullness only his cock can provide.

"You study so much," you breathe out between gasps, "but don't forget to enjoy the results." Even as you speak, your hips buck against his hand, seeking friction where you need it most.

His kiss is a claiming, his tongue dominating yours in a dance as old as time. It's a stark contrast to the scientific observations he's been making moments ago, but it fits perfectly with the primal urge coursing through your veins.

He breaks the kiss, his fingers stop their relentless assault, leaving you hanging on the edge of bliss. "Remember, this is just the warm-up,"

Ratio pauses his ministrations, letting you bask in the waves of pleasure that ripple through your body. He gives you a moment to catch your breath, his fingers trailing tantalizing patterns across your heated flesh.

"How do you feel?" he queries, his voice laced with a hint of concern. "Are you enjoying this? Or do you wish I'd hurry things along?" Despite his seemingly detached inquiry, his touch betrays his own growing excitement.

Before you can answer, he abruptly withdraws his fingers, leaving you empty and craving. "No," he says firmly, catching your hands in his and pinning them above your head. "I want to see how you handle the absence of sensation. How does that make you feel?"

Your mind reels from the sudden loss of stimulation, your body screaming for more even as you struggle to form coherent thoughts. "N-nothing," you stammer, your voice shaking. "It feels like nothing at all."

Ratio hums thoughtfully, his fingers trailing down your side to rest on your hip. "Interesting," he muses. "Your brain is processing the lack of sensation, interpreting it as a void rather than actual pain or discomfort. This suggests a high level of sexual tolerance and adaptability."

He leans in close, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispers, "I think we can push you even further. Let's see how you react when I deny you both touch and sight." With that, he reaches for the blindfold, preparing to cover your eyes once more.

...................!!!!!!!! "It's..time to go on."

With a swift movement, Ratio removes the blindfold, revealing the world once more to your desperate eyes. But instead of touching you himself, he simply places his hand near your throbbing center, his fingers hovering just above your most sensitive spot.

"Cum for me," he commands, his voice firm and commanding. "Show me what I've done to you." His hand remains still, not providing the direct stimulation you crave, forcing you to rely on your own efforts to achieve release.

The tension coils tighter within you, your body begging for relief. But without his guidance, you're left to navigate the storm of emotions and sensations on your own.

With a sharp cry, you finally surrender to the mounting pleasure, your body convulsing as waves of climax crash over you. Your juices gush forth, soaking Ratio's hand and dripping onto the bed beneath you.

But the reprieve is fleeting. Before you can even catch your breath, he pushes you back onto the mattress, holding you down firmly. "That was just a preview," he declares, his voice a mix of satisfaction and anticipation. "Now, let's continue our little experiment."

He leans over you, his gaze locked onto yours as he teases open your folds with his fingers. Each slow, deliberate thrust sends another shockwave of pleasure through your system, reigniting the flames of desire that had barely begun to cool.

"Study and lesson," he reminds you, his tone dripping with carnal intent. "And remember, I'm in control."

Ratio's fingers continue their torturous dance, drawing out every last tremor of pleasure from your quivering body. But then, without warning, he replaces his fingers with the thick, rigid length of his cock. The sudden intrusion makes you gasp, your body stretching to accommodate his size.

He takes his time, savoring each inch as he slides deeper inside you. The stretch and burn are exquisite, pushing you to new heights of arousal. "Feel that?" he growls, pausing to give you a moment to adjust. "That's power. That's control."

With a steady pace, he begins to move, setting a rhythm designed to drive you mad with lust

Moans spill from your lips, raw and primal, as Ratio drives into you relentlessly. Each thrust sends a fresh wave of ecstasy crashing through your body, threatening to sweep you away in its intensity.

"Louder," he demands, his voice strained with effort. "Let me hear how much you love this." He punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside you.

Your cries echo off the walls, mingling with the obscene sounds of flesh meeting flesh. The pleasure builds higher and higher, coiling tighter within you until you feel ready to burst.

The rubber duck he always keeps innocently floats past, and you had half a mind to reach out and turn its gaze away from the 'scene'.

"Focus on the sensation," Ratio instructs, his voice a husky whisper in your ear. "Notice every detail - the heat, the friction, the way my cock stretches you open."

As he speaks, he adjusts his angle, hitting a sweet spot deep within you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. "This is crucial data," he continues, his thrusts becoming more erratic as his own pleasure mounts. "Understanding the nuances of pleasure will help me craft the perfect experience for you."

His words are a distant hum, lost in the sea of sensation that engulfs you. All you can do is cling to him, arching your back to meet his increasingly brutal thrusts.

Cries of pleasure and frustration tear from your throat as Ratio's relentless pounding drives you closer and closer to the edge. Each word he utters only serves to fan the flames of your desire.

"That's it," he praises, his grip on your hips tightening. "Endure it like a good little bitch you are." His words are a crude insult, but they only add to the eroticism of the situation.

The coil inside you snaps, releasing a torrent of orgasmic bliss that washes over you in powerful waves. Your inner walls clench around Ratio's cock, milking him for all he's worth.

The final tremors of your shared climax fade away, Ratio collapses onto you, his weight pressing you into the tub. He captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim you thoroughly.

"I want to feel you come undone one more time," he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough with satisfaction. Slowly, almost gently, he begins to move inside you once more, coaxing your oversensitive body towards yet another peak.

With a final, powerful surge, he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsating as he spills his hot seed into your waiting womb. The sensation triggers another orgasm, your body trembling and convulsing around him as you milk him dry.

Your moans mingle with his grunts of exertion, creating a symphony of passion that fills the room. Together, you climb the slopes of ecstasy, racing towards the pinnacle of pleasure. And as you crest the final hill, tumbling into oblivion together, you know that this is only the beginning of your journey into the depths of depravity.

The aftermath of your intense and passionate encounter leaves you feeling both exhilarated and drained. You’re trying to shake off the lingering sensations and focus on the task at hand: cooking. Your legs still tremble slightly as you attempt to prepare a meal, the aftermath of Ratio’s teasing and touch making it difficult to concentrate.

Ratio stays close by, his presence a constant reminder of the events that just unfolded. He watches you with an amused smirk, his gaze flickering between you and the cooking. “You’re not doing it quite right,” he says, his voice carrying that familiar mix of criticism and amusement. “The way you’re handling the ingredients is all wrong.”

You huff, your frustration bubbling up. “Oh, really? Maybe if you hadn’t spent so much time teasing me, I wouldn’t be such a mess right now.”

Ratio raises an eyebrow, his smirk turning into a more intense expression of amusement. “Is that so? It’s not my fault if you’re unable to focus. Perhaps you need more practice.”

You shoot him a glare, but before you can say anything else, Ratio steps closer. His movements are quick and decisive, and before you fully realize what’s happening, he gently but firmly pushes you onto the table. The action catches you off guard, and you find yourself splayed out on the surface, the cool touch of the table against your skin contrasting with the warmth of the kitchen.

Ratio stands over you, his eyes glinting with a mix of dominance and satisfaction. “I think you need a different kind of lesson,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “One that doesn’t involve cooking.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you struggle to regain your composure. “Ratio, what are you—”

He silences you with a finger on your lips, his touch light but authoritative. “Shh. Cooking can wait. Right now, you’re going to learn something more practical.”

His hands move with a deliberate calmness, as though he’s in complete control of the situation. He leans over you, his proximity making it hard to think clearly. His gaze is intense, his presence overwhelming.

“You were so eager to challenge me earlier,” he murmurs, his voice a deep, seductive whisper. “Now, let’s see if you can handle a different kind of lesson.”

His hands roam lightly over your body, his touch both firm and gentle. The contrast between the cool surface of the table and his warm, teasing touch creates a heightened sense of awareness, making every movement more intense.

“Tell me,” he says, his lips brushing against your ear, “how do you feel now? Do you understand the difference between the lessons I’ve given you and the ones you’re trying to master?”

You try to respond, but your voice comes out as a shaky whisper. “I… I get it. I’m sorry for complaining. I just—”

Ratio interrupts you with a soft, teasing kiss along your neck, his touch sending shivers through you. “You’re not just apologizing for the cooking, are you?” he asks, his tone playful yet commanding. “You’re acknowledging that there’s more to learn, more to experience.”

His hands continue their exploration, his touch both tender and possessive. You find yourself unable to resist the sensations he’s creating, the way his presence and touch make everything else fade into the background.

“Cooking will come later,” Ratio says, his voice a seductive whisper as he leans in even closer. “Right now, focus on what’s happening here, on what you’re feeling.”

[dstryvampres]

Smoke Signals

Jonathan Crane x Reader

Summary: Dr Crane is tired of you talking back.

Warnings: smut, fingering, age gap(reader is early 20s, crane is mid 40s), power imbalance, brat taming(I think??), reader is a smoker, dub con, p in v, unprotected, praise, degradation, spanking, creampie

Word count: 2.2k

The trek to Dr Crane office on the fifth floor was quick and easy, seeing as there was no one else using the elevator because it was so late at night. When you push open the door to Dr Crane’s office it creaks, alerting him immediately to your presence.

“I thought I told you to quit smoking before you come to my office,” is what Dr Crane decides on greeting you with. His face is stern, pen in hand as he writes out a statement on a student’s quiz.

“Yeah, well I was fiending all day and they don’t let you have a smoke within 15 meters of the psychology testing centre. Hard to get a smoke break in,” You quip back, hanging your tote bag over the back of a chair before sliding between it and Dr Crane’s desk to sit.

“Well, if you won’t quit all together, you could at least have the common courtesy to not reek of it near me,” He scoffs, clicking his pen and setting it down on his desk.

You toy with the fabric of your sheer black tights as Dr Crane sets aside whatever he was working on before and brings out two sheets of paper. Two rubrics, one for him, which he settles in front of him, and one for you, which he flips towards you.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Dr Crane asks, standing up from his desk and heading towards the table near the window. He clicks on the kettle, staring at it for a couple seconds before he starts to hear it bubble up before he turns to you again.

“Just any tea is fine, except ginger, I want something herbal tonight,” you reply, rummaging through your tote bag looking for a pen to use for tonight.

“So herbal tea?” Jonathan asks, shaking his head at you in the corner of your eye.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I said,” you sit up straight once again when you find your pencil case, plopping it down on Dr Crane’s darkwood desk.

You hear a sigh from the professor as he turns around to look out the window at the rain, his fingers toying around with the packaging of a tea bag. No matter if Dr Crane happens to be your boss, you can’t deny that he’s insanely attractive. Young looking face with high cheekbones, blue eyes that stare holes into your being, dark brown hair that he somehow styles perfectly without trying that hard, all packaged in suits that do him far too many favours. Sure he has a slightly bitter attitude, but you’re no better. With all the times you snap back and push his buttons he’s far too patient with you, and seems to genuinely care about your well being. Whether that care is actually genuine or is just to avoid having to find another TA, you’re not one hundred percent sure.

A click comes from the kettle, and soon enough Dr Crane sets down a steaming mug in front of you before sliding into his own chair with a mug in his hand.

“Thank you,” you say, blowing on the steaming liquid in hopes to cool it down quicker.

“Don’t burn yourself.”

Dr Crane grabs his pen before directing both of your attention to the rubric and assignment guide. He drones on about the basics, word count, percentage to dock based off of just principle things, before delving into more important specifics to the assignment. For a supposed research essay, the need to include the students own fears into the mix was a weird choice to be a necessity. There’s no need to ask about it, the conditions for the assignment have already been set in stone, the due date is in about a week.

“Everything making sense?” Dr Crane asks, looking at you, eyebrows furrowed together.

You nod in response, reaching over to grab a highlighter from Dr Crane’s collection across the table. Maybe you should bring up the weird conditions of the assignment…

“Actually, just one thing confuses me about this assignment,” You start, looking for any signs of anger from Dr Crane, knowing just how often you seem to push his buttons before continuing, “why do the students need to disclose their own fears in this assignment, it’s supposed to be a research essay on different ways the brain copes with fear.”

Dr Crane clenches his jaw, looking away from you annoyed. Acting like you were questioning the fundamentals of grammar and not some strange one off point he decided to add to this assignment. He shakes his head, taking off his glasses and laying them down on the table.

“You’re not the one running the class, are you?” Dr Crane asks, voice showing just thin his patience has become in a matter of seconds.

“Well, obviously not, but I’m just-”

You’re cut off with the screeching of Dr Crane’s chair as he stands up, walking towards the door. Fuck, is he going to leave? Is he going to ask you to leave? Are you being fired out of one of the best looking jobs on your resume? When you hear the click of the lock on the door, you’re not sure if your fate is better or worse than any of the options thought of before. Nevertheless, your body tenses up and your head starts to fog up, whatever is going to happen you don’t think it will be too pleasant.

“You know what? I’m so sick of you always thinking you know better than me,” He slowly walks over to you as he speaks, shoes clicking on the linoleum floor of his office.

“I don’t think that,” you respond, voice strained. Now he’s standing over where you’re seated, forcing you to look upwards at him. You feel so small and powerless in this moment. Maybe, it’s only now and here, in this position, that you finally remember that this man holds your entire future as a psychologist in his hands.

“I want you to remember who has more leverage here, who can get you into the best jobs in the state,” it’s like he can read your mind.

You gulp and close your eyes. You’ve spent the last year and three months of your masters degree and time as a TA under Dr Crane pushing back against him, challenging the man. You’re sure that it’s here, in his locked office that he will give you a piece of his mind before dropping you completely. Leaving you and your master’s thesis to flounder in the last half of it, beg for anyone to aid you in the specific thesis everyone knew only Crane was suitable to supervise at this university. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Please, don’t drop me and my thesis. I won’t challenge you ever again, I’ll do anything you want, please,” you beg, opening your eyes to stare at Crane’s. Hoping the eye contact would connect with some deeper part of him, but his blue eyes stared back, cold and emotionless.

“Anything?” Crane asks, quirking an eyebrow at your begging.

“Yes, anything. I’ll get on my knees and beg you, I’ll mark every assignment myself-”

“Face the table and put your hands on top of it,” Crane demands.

“What?” Your mind short circuits at his request, not expecting something like that.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to challenge me ever again?” Dr Crane sighs, crossing his arms, waiting for you to obey.

You follow his request, placing both your hands on the table, looking down at the dark oak wood. It’s cold underneath your palms, but that doesn’t help with the sweat accumulating onto your palms. Dr Crane hums behind you, seemingly happy with your compliance to his request. He kicks your feet away from the desk, making your butt stick out more.

“Now, I want you to spread your legs for me,” Dr Crane puts a hand on your ass, squeezing the flesh. Your eyebrows furrow, taking a second too long for his liking and earning a slap to the ass, you quickly move to spread your legs.

“Good girl,” Dr Crane hums, massaging the spot where he hit you previously. You whine in response, feeling a heat start to grow in your cunt.

Dr Crane smacks your ass again, a little lighter than before, almost teasing. His other hand is placed on your ass, both hands move down to your thighs, then back up to your ass, this time sliding under your skirt and flipping it up. Your pink panties are visible through the sheer black tights causing Dr Crane to sigh out.

“You feel how hard I am, slut?” Dr Crane asks, you hear the smirk in his voice as he presses his hard-on into your ass. You moan, feeling the weight of it press into your wet cunt and soiled panties.

Quickly Dr Crane rips open the thin fabric of your tights, allowing for direct access to your panties and cunt. He feels your wet heat through your panties, quickly moving them to the side to expose your cunt. You moan as the cold air of his office hits your cunt.

“You’re so wet. Do you let all your professors fuck you? Or am I a sort of desprate case?” Dr Crane cooes, ghosting his fingers over your exposed cunt.

He runs his fingers up and down your cunt, collecting your wetness over them before pushing them inside of you. The intrusion is so unexpected it makes you gasp, pull away from it briefly. He fucks you with his fingers shallowly, at a bored pace. You push back onto his fingers, begging for more. Dr Crane removes his finger from your cunt, and you whine in response.

“Fuck, you’re a desperate whore huh?” Dr Crane laughs, giving your ass another harsh slap.

Behind you Dr Crane unzips his pants, freeing his cock. He lines it up with your hole and just stays there. No matter how much you try to push back and whine for him to put it in he isn’t moving.

“You’ve been such a bitch, I don’t think you deserve my cock. Why don’t you beg for it?” you can hear the cocky look on Dr Crane’s face just from his voice. Though it doesn’t seem to matter much as you open your mouth to beg.

“Please Dr Crane, I’ll be such a good girl. You can use me anytime and I’ll never be a bitch again, as long as I have your cock, please doctor please,” you plead, wiggling your hips.

“Good girl.”

Dr Crane pushes inside of you. His cock is average length, but stretches you out in a way no other man ever has. It makes your head spin as he spears you on his cock.

“Fuck, I didn’t expect a whore like you to be so tight,” Dr Crane pants out, putting both of his hands on your waist.

He pulls out of you slowly, before slamming back into your cunt. Setting a brutal pace as soon as he slams back into you a second time. Only faltering when he smacks your ass. You yelp out each time, before pushing back onto his cock. Dr Crane continually stretched you out and hit the most sensitive spots inside of you. Your legs start to shake half way through, the only thing stopping you from crumbling being Dr Crane’s cock and hands. He pushes you back on him each time, almost demanding you take him in further.

“You fuck me so good doctor,” you moan out, “Can I cum doctor?”

“Yeah, cum all over my cock dumb slut,” Dr Crane says, speeding up the pace.

One of his hands reaches down from your hips to your clit, rubbing fast and hard on it. A touch so hard and borderline painful on the sensitive bundle of nerves tips you over the edge in mere seconds. Your knees buckle. Stars flood your vision. Your boss fucking you through the whole thing.

You start to weep from overstimulation, tears welling in your eyes when you come back from your high. Dr Crane is still fucking you in the same brutal pace.

“Sluts like you don’t get breaks until I come too,” Dr Crane snarls out at you and your weeping, earning another sharp smack to your ass.

The tears spill out over your eyes as you cum again all over his cock. Your walls clenching and seizing around Dr Crane so hard his cock becomes painful as it pumps in and out of you.

He speeds up and his pace starts to become more aggressive, until Dr Crane stills inside of you. His cum rushes into your cunt, holding himself inside you after both of you have finally come down from your high. Once Dr Crane pulls out of you, you feel as his cum comes spilling out of your cunt.

“I’ll give you your share of the papers to mark next monday,” Dr Crane says, tucking his cock away and zipping up his pants. “I expect to not hear any confusion about the grading from you, I feel like I explained myself pretty well.

taglist: @paradiseprincesss @xanaxiii @luluartpop

[inside-lees-mind]

Hello! Small request here~ can you possibly do a Dr,stone headcanon where reader has severely bad memory? They’re memory is so bad to the point they would start to call everyone by fruits, vegetables, plants. You name it. Just so they could remember their faces properly? This has been in my mind for so long..but of course no rush and always take care of urself! <3

Idk if you take emoji anons, but can I be 🌒 or 🪻anon? You can choose which one if both are free!

Hi🪻anon (I picked this one cuz I like flowers and it’s different from the emojis I already have anons for, hope that’s okay) (oh and this request is about plants so it fits!)

I decided to do Senku, Gen, Tsukasa, and Hyoga. (I’m finally writing for Tsukasa, THE WORLD REJOICES)

Senku Ishigami

You called him a Leak.

He’s confused, but then looks in the mirror and… holy shit you’re right.

He’s offended, but like brushes it off.

“Focus” he says, turning you back to your work.

He thinks it’s strange thought when you don’t call him by his name even to others.

Eventually, he realizes you must not remember his name.

He couldn’t care less tbh. Maybe you are bad with names? Thats common enough he really doesn’t dig.

Gen Asagiri

You called him “nightshade”

It’s his favorite flower so he’s not fazed.

Oh, not the mention it means “liar.” And he’s the world’s best.

Eventually, while watching you, he realizes you don’t call him anything but it, so he subtly tests you.

He works to push you towards saying his name, and you really just don’t seem receptive.

Eventually, he’d subtly pry your reasoning out of you when he notices you call everybody plants and vegetables.

He finds out that the amount of different plants in the nightshade family reminds you of his two faced nature and helps you remember him.

He finds it interesting.

Tsukasa Shishio

He was confused when you called him “Rosanne”

Did you think he was a woman…?

From Gen, he finds out that you might be referring to a Rosanne Brown Lisianthus since you call everybody by plant names.

Gen says he doesn’t know the reason and shrugs, shaking his head as he walks away.

You later tell him it looks like a rose and it’s got a beautiful brown color sometimes.

He gets it now… his hair color!

Takes it as a compliment because the flower sounds pretty the way you describe it.

Hyoga Akatsuki

You called him “cauliflower”

He’s confused?

He’s not… a vegetable?

Are you calling him as weak as a mere vegetable? He’s not, so???

Genuinely, he’s confused.

Takes it the wrong way.

Gives you an eye smile and nods, but then straight up walks away from you.

He over hears somebody talking about your odd nicknames for every one and it clicks that you must be remembering him that way. Cauliflower is white… so is his hair. Okay…

[tomwaterbabies]

disneyland happenings

featuring varian and hugo. since thats what our costumes were

^(us trying to be very spooky) (there is a lot below btw lol)

someone asking if i (dressed as hugo) was from atlantis. surprisingly this only happened once

we went to kingdom hearts mickey first bc that was gonna be a popular one the rest of the night. the idea of varian in kingdom hearts is definitely really funny. i do not go here im just being honest

OH. new addition to the costume. i had olivia with me as a shoulder friend

met bruno from encanto who commented on her. we talked about our rodent friends he was very nice. he said he brought "all 200" of his rats with him and wanted to help feed them and knows mickey is a big mouse so maybe we could ask him. i said we could just steal some food. varian got mad

went over to see sid from toy story because he seemed like a mean little bitch. he was a mean little bitch. i may have said that his creations could use a little work but thats no reason for him to say "your mouse needs a little work" and "i hope you kept the receipt".... cunt

laughing about how mother gothel was no longer part of the characters to meet. "they killed her forever this time" etc etc

watching the parade and varian almost jumping out of his skin when mother gothel was in the parade. her ghost

we went to this thing called villain's grove which was a bunch of light and effects n stuff through their little forest area. it was mostly a cool immersive experience so most of the footage is on the Lights And Effects Themselves but here's a few of us that look cool lol. gay tunnel (maybe not) (that segment was themed after frollo)

met hans from frozen. we absolutely had no clue he was going to be there it was pretty funny. you may guess that my friend @kristoffs-lullaby (varian cosplayer) is a frozen enjoyer. so we hopped in line to see him

hans asked if varian's alchemy balls were some sort of magic or enchantment and you'll Never guess what varian responded with

though explaining its alchemy and science and all that didnt really make him feel better. he even asked if its something that would be in danger of bringing in an "eternal winter". varian did not like that :)

saw dr. doofenshmirtz (?) i didnt watch that show. he was pretty fun to meet though. i know some people dont like his creepy ass design, but i do, its fun and weird to me. he wanted to collaborate with me and varian since we're scientists. really funny to have him say "i'll have my people call your people". a possible strange message that rapunzel will get later /j

also encountered hades. though our friend @iammisswow was with us and so i had him focus on her since shes a big hercules fan. the visual was hugo getting this scary man's attention to be put on someone else by calling her out. it worked obviously. "oh SHE is a HUGE fan of hercules"

madam mim from sword in the stone didnt really have as big of a crowd so we actually talked with her a pretty good amount. shes SO fun. lots of discussion about magic vs science and how she thinks knowledge is stupid. you can imagine how we of all people felt when she said "KNOWLEDGE is not power, MAGIC is power". she also liked olivia (she thought she was a familiar)

meeting judge doom from roger rabbit was kind of scary LOL. very intimidating man. but his area had vats of chemicals and all that so you can imagine we had fun with that. WE can be trusted. obviously.

nervously just nodding our heads as judge doom tells us to come to him if we have any information regarding where "that rabbit is" (we are not doing that)

and also we saw ernesto de la cruz from coco. we were actually able to catch him right as he started performing which is rad but i dont actually have any interactions to tell u about here it was bad ass though

and, unbeknownst to Hugo (as in i also didnt know about this), varian had a surprise for him. he had a whole... horribly genuine and flustery spiel to say about messing around in his lab and all that and made something for hugo. which was a necklace with a piece of colored glass-like material (teal) in the shape of a heart. hugo handled that whole situation really well (lie)

ANYWAYS ! that's it. i've mentioned before but Disneyland Trips will be retired really soon since I'm not too fond of a lot of their wack shit right now, but wanted to share some of the last bit of enjoyable times to be had there before that happens

[elspethdekarios]

Places in Waterdeep

According to this reddit comment, Gale’s tower is most likely in the Dock Ward on the corner of Sea Lion and Sail Street. Assuming Gale and Tav spend most of their time in Waterdeep either at home or at Blackstaff (well, depending on what your tav does for a living! I imagine mine works nearby), here are some possible locations for all your fanfic needs. I’m using this map and the descriptions it gives for the locations. This is not an exhaustive list–just the ones I thought might be the most useful to writers.

- Near Gale’s Tower (Dock Ward) -

Taverns and Inns:

The Quaffing Quaggoth

Tavern. A favorite among sailors, merchants, and young nobles, this dwarven owned and operated establishment is known for its own specialty brew – the Quaggoth, a thick house-brewed stout mixed with a shot of a house secret liquor.

The Sailors' Own

Tavern. The place is low-beamed and crowded, with weary sailors slumped on benches playing at board games, cards, or merely getting thoroughly drunk. This place is just what its name implies. It belongs to the sailors, and they don't really want anyone else here. The proprietor is Guthlakh 'Hands' Imyiir. (so, maybe not likely for them to frequent this one, but who knows!)

The Pickled Fisherman

Tavern

The Soaring Pegasus

Tavern

Bard inn

A cozy inn owned by a family of past adventurers, it appears to have been fixed up recently. Most of its visitors are sailors, but it has been known to house meetings between gangs in order to keep the peace. In the basement is a hidden underground fighting ring.

The Angry Coxswain

The tavern contains a one-way portal connecting with a prison cell in the slave market in the Mulhorandi city of Skuld.

The Yawning Portal

Inn. Built in 1306 DR on the ruins of Halaster Blackcloak's old tower, the Yawning Portal gained most of its renown for being the primary open route to the Undermountain. The Portal's innkeeper, Durnan, is a former adventurer of great power and renown.

The Gray Griffon

Tavern

Darth's Dolphyntyde

Tavern

Selune's Smile

Tavern

Azuth's Mug

Tavern

The Rearing Hippocampus

Inn. Probably the classiest inn in Dock Ward. Favored by many caravan masters and merchants who want a good, secure place to sleep, and regular visitors to the city who have business near the harbor.

The Splintered Stair

Inn. The entry hall of this room rises up three floors, overlooked by interior balconies linked by elegantly spiraling stairs.

The Blackstar Inn

This dignified, even haughty inn is like a fortress on the outside, with barred windows, stone walls, and a slate roof. Its lobby has two armed guards, and the four hostlers in the locked stables are also armed. Fees are high, but in return, guests get almost soundproof rooms. Each room has a hip-bath, a double bed, water and wine provided for drinking and various pamphlets and chapbooks provided for light reading. Each room also has its own fireplace, albeit with a miserly supply of firewood, and the patrons tend to keep to themselves. A good place to get a long soundsleep. Asiyra Boldwinter is the proprietress of this inn. Her manner is one of uppercrust, noble dignity.

The Empty Keg

The Empty Keg is a rowdy beer-hall. Later at night, it sees visits from workers from Mother Salinka's next door to reinvigorate business there.

The Red-Eyed Owl

This is the closest thing Waterdeep has to a comfortable, unimpressive, welcoming gathering place for the neighborhood. It is the kind of place where friends will come in and hail each other across the room. The food and drink are pleasant, if unspectacular, and you'll be allowed to sit in peace. It is a rambling old wooden building that looks as if it's about to fall into the street. Balarg 'Twofists' Dathen, a man with long, red hair, owns and runs the tavern.

The Sleepy Sylph

Tavern. Locals in the neighborhood come here for a single drink, to enjoy the music and to watch the waitresses (wearing diaphanous robe), and then go to the Owl, just steps away to eat and drink at about a third the price. The owner is Callanter Rollingshoulder, a tall man dressed in dark silken robes with a magnificent mustache.

The Bloody Fist

Tavern. Bullies and angry people come here to pick fights, and a room upstairs is retained for a succession of novice priests of Tempus who dress broken bones and perform minor healing magics in return for donations to the war god. Members of the Bull Elk Tribe can usually be found drinking here. Proprietor: Uglukh Vorl, a half-orc.

The Sleeping Snake

Tavern. This rowdy place is roughly furnished in hastily mended furniture. Members of the Black Boar Tribe can usually be found drinking here.

Festhalls and Entertainment:

From the Forgotten Realms wiki: “A festhall was an establishment combining the services of brothels, casinos, and private clubs. Festhalls provided a variety of adult-themed leisure activities and entertainment, including sex work, gambling, day spas, dining, exotic dancing, companionship, role-play, and other specialized interests.”

The Mermaid's Arms

Festhall. Elegant dining lounges, in which one dines or just drinks with an attractive host or hostess (or alone). Increasingly, the Arms is being used by single gentlefolk for a night of love. In other words, patrons are going there to meet each other, not to hire a host or hostess for the night. The Arms is large, well-lit, always busy, and can be quite expensive.

The Hanging Lantern

Festhall. The Lantern, an escort service known for the stunning beauty of its workers, and for the skill of its matchmakers, is famous up and down the Sword Coast.

Blushing Nymph

Festhall. The long stair links the oubliette of the Blushing Nymph festhall with Undermountain's first level.

Mother Salinka's House of Pleasures

This is a dingy low-coin festhall owned by halflings and frequented by those who are there for a 'brief visit', or can't afford or are turned away from the Yawning Portal.

Three Pearls Nightclub

Festhall. Pearls, as it is called, is a popular evening destination for Waterdhavians, offering stand-up comics, trained animal acts, illusionists' recitals, bards, orators, and exotic dancing. It has a low ceiling and is usually hot and smoky. The manager, Xandos Waeverym, is known as 'the Dandy'.

Seven Masks Theater

The theater caters to a lower-class clientele, and ship captains and sailors are admitted for free. The owner of the theater is a burly and jovial Shou man with a braided goatee named Rongquan Mystere.

The Purple Palace

Festhall. This is the closest thing Waterdeep has to a Calishite silks-boudoir. Its lavender silk draperies and gauzy hangings are heavily perfumed. Everything is cushions, soft carpets, music, and purple-tinted, spiced wine. Companionship is expensive and very good.

The Smiling Succubus

Festhall. Not exactly the pride of Wharf Street, but one of its most popular destinations.

Businesses and Shopping:

Whistling Blades

Business. Weapons.

The Fishscale Smithy

Adventuring gear

Talnu's Ropeworks

Adventuring gear

The Old Xoblob Shop

This curiosity shop is filled with lots of battle trophies and souvenirs from Undermountain. Worth a look to see the stuffed beholder for which the shop is named. The shopkeeper is a deep gnome.

House of Pride Perfumes

Business. The House of Pride is crammed with a forest of glass bottles of all sizes, shapes, and hues. It is protected by a special enchantment that prevents glass from breaking. The shop is run by two sisters and is guarded by trained hunting dogs.

Khostal Hannass, Fine Nuts

Business. Food.

Felhaur's Fine Fish

Business. Food.

Miscellaneous:

Mirt's Mansion

Villa. Mirt is a friend of Durnan (see The Yawning Portal). Both used magic to extend their lives.

House of Two Hands

Monastery. Order of the Even-Handed.

Harborwatch Tower

City building

The Griffon

The walking statue called the Griffon is shaped like the beast for which it is named. Though it stands on all four legs, its back is fully twenty feet off the ground, making it a mount fit for a storm giant. Although it has shown itself to be capable of flight, with the granite feathers of its wings spreading like a bird's, the Griffon now merely stands in a regal pose near Peaktop Aerie atop Mount Waterdeep, looking to the southeast over the Dock Ward. Newcomers sometimes assume it to be a monument to Waterdeep's Griffon Cavalry, but Waterdavians know better.

Peaktop Aerie

City building

Castle Waterdeep

Thick-walled stronghold that broods over Castle Ward from the flanks of Mount Waterdeep. Pennants and banners are often hung and flown from its battlements to signal the arrival of diplomats or the commencement of ceremonies.

Starry Cradles orphanage

The Starry Cradles orphanage is a Dock Ward orphanage run by Matron Griselda Hoppletun, a halfling care-taker, and funded by the House of the Moon and the Selûnite clergy thereof.

- Near Blackstaff Tower (Castle Ward) -

Taverns and Inns:

Sapphire House

Expensive rooming house on Swords Street. The inn is a five-story building.

Tavern of the Flagon Dragon

Tavern. Three Stories high, stone dragons at the base of the walls are all gouting fire, two dragon helmed guards at the door. Caters more to the less-than-noble class.

The Singing Sword

Tavern. Three floors of busy diners enjoy one of the largest menus in Waterdeep. They are entertained by the high-voiced ballads of the wondrous magical blade for which the tavern is named. Gothmorgan Ilibuld, the proprietor, is a polite host.

Wyrmbones Inn

Inn

The Pampered Traveler

Inn. This inn stands like an exotic castle. There is inside a library filled with books and a reading table with a glass top, under which can be seen a map of the known Realms as far west as the Moonshaes, as far east as Thay, and as far south as the Shaar. All in all, a quietly luxurious place to stay. This is undoubtedly the wealthy scholar's choice of hostel. The inn is run by Brathan Zilmer, guildmaster of the Fellowship of Innkeepers.

Dauntlyn's Doors

Luxury Inn

The Elfstone Tavern

Tavern. This old, dimly lit tavern caters to elves. By night, dancing lights spells bathe the place in soft, floating, blue motes of light. Gentle harp, pipe, flute, and choral music is performed and service is fast and graceful. Dwarves and half-orcs will be driven away; humans and halflings are tolerated in small parties; half-elves are just accepted. Yaereene Ilbaereth is the tavern's proprietress.

The Blue Jack

Tavern. The tavern specializes in low prices and fast service, and it's a success. Immithar the Glove, the tavern's proprietor, is quick with a joke or to mimic the speech of other.

The Jade Jug

Inn. Waterdeep's plushest inn. Guests are attended by a personal servant for the duration of their stay and their every need is attended to. The charming, beautiful, one-armed hostess is Amaratha Ruendarr. She notices every detail.

The Dragon's Head Tavern

Tavern. This modest place is aimed at those who like to sit quietly and chat over their drinks. The proprietor is Vorn Laskadarr.

The Asp's Strike

Tavern

Festhalls and Entertainment:

Jhural's Dance

Festhall

Silavene's

Festhall

The Smiling Siren

Festhall. Nightclub & Theater. Home to a company of popular local actors who can perform everything from rowdy comedy to high tragedy. Nobles often hire the place for an evening for exclusive performances. The Siren is also home to traveling troupes of vaudeville jugglers, comedians, and nearly nude dancers or burlesque dancers. Before and between performances, the place is used for drinking and dancing to live music, sometimes with show dancers on the stage. The mage Perendel Wintamer runs this nightclub.

Lightsinger Theater

Business. Entertainers.

Mother Tathlorn's House of Pleasure

Festhall. Entertainers. The most famous house of pleasure in Waterdeep is a large, five-floored building with two additional levels of dungeons below ground. Mother Tathlorn's has on staff several priests of Sune. The most popular service performed at Mother Tathlorn's is massage and bathing, but all of this luxury and pleasure doesn't come cheaply.

Businesses and Shopping:

The Market

Open marketplace. Largest open space in the city surrounded by stone buildings that enclose the maze of temporary stalls and carts that appear here day and night.

Blackwell's Fine Books and Good Tomes

Blackwell's Fine Books and Good Tomes is a posh retail shop, located in the shadow of the God Catcher statue. Owned and operated by the Blackwell family, Blackwell's Fine Books and Good Tomes specializes in rare and antique manuscripts. The shop is especially known, among the noble set, for its restoration, document preservation, as well as transcription services. Mr Blackwell's son, Aldous, has been known to keep an eye on any ancient texts which spend time in the family's shoppe.

The Bookstore occupies the bottom of a three story building. The upper two stories are the Blackwell's lavish townhome apartment.

Paethier's Pipeweed

Business

Eilean's Maztican Delights

Business

Sharkroar - Harth Shalark's Broadsheets

Business

Sorynth's Silverware

Business

The Curious Past

Business is run by Bronwyn Caradoon, dealing in exotic items while also being a front for Harper Activity.

Diloontier's Apothecary

Assassins. Drugs. Poisons. Potions. Now renamed to 'Diloontier's & Sons Apothecary'.

This upscale store catered to the elite of Waterdhavian society. Those who had the right credentials and money for it could quietly purchase poisons and more nefarious potions from the proprietor.

Balthorr's Rare & Wondrous Treasures

Business. Magic items. Balthorr 'the Bold' Olaskos will fence stolen items for 40% market value.

Old Knot Shop

Adventuring gear

Rebeleigh's Elegant Headwear

Business. Clothing.

Halls of Hilmer, Master Armorer

Armor. Hilmer, a tall, strong, and soft-spoken man, with shoulders as wide as most doors, only makes plate, but he's known as the best, or among the best, in all the Sword Coast lands. He's a master craftsman.

Halambar Lutes & Harps

Business. Entertainers. This shop sells all sorts of stringed musical instruments. Kriios Halambar, guildmaster of the Council of Musicians, Instrument-Makers, and Choristers owns and runs this shop.

The Golden Key Locksmiths

Business. The proprietor, Ansilver, makes custom locks to order, and guarantees that he's never sold a key that will open the lock you buy from him to anyone else.

Phalantar's Philtres & Components

Business. Drugs. Poisons. Potions. Here you can buy medicines, herbs, and rare substances used in the making of perfumes, scented oils, poisons, and as material components in the casting of spells. Phalantar Orivan will fence stolen goods for 40% market value. He is said to be fabulously rich.

Olmhazan's Jewels

Business. All the gems one can think of, except very rare or magical sorts. Jhauntar Olmhazan, Gentleman Speaker for the Jewelers' Guild, owns and runs this shop.

Temples:

Font of Knowledge

Temple of Oghma. Largest public library in the city.

Halls of Justice

Temple of Tyr. Holy Order of the Knights of Samular.

Spires of the Morning

Temple of Lathander. Order of the Aster.

Temple of the Seldarine

Temple of all elven deities.

Miscellaneous:

Melody Mount Walk

A magically lit tunnel that runs west up to the cliffs on which the New Olamn barding college is situated. The tunnel contains a little-known portal between Waterdeep and the keep in Rassalantar. The tunnel continuously resounds with music due to an ongoing concert known as the Neverending String of Pearls that is performed by bardic students from New Olamn in a small alcove in the tunnel.

Syndra Wands' Tower

Wizard's domicile.

The Lady Dreaming

One of the eight enormous statues called the Walking Statues of Waterdeep, scattered throughout Waterdeep to defend the city in times of great peril. This statue has the appearance of a titanic sculpture of a noble lady asleep in her garden.

The Great Drunkard

One of the eight enormous statues called the Walking Statues of Waterdeep, scattered throughout Waterdeep to defend the city in times of great peril. The unconscious pose of the statue and the tavern in its lap made the name of the Great Drunkard a natural fit.

Duir's Alley

This busy, winding passage is often the scene of spell demonstrations and practice, as patrons or staff spill out of the rear of the Elfstone Tavern and unleash magic down the alley.

Cat Alley

Recently, a masked, rapier-wielding, quietly chuckling assailant has made this a dangerous place for women after dark.

The God Catcher

One of the eight enormous statues called the Walking Statues of Waterdeep, scattered throughout Waterdeep to defend the city in times of great peril. This is perhaps the most famous walking statue in the city, thanks to its dramatic pose : a well-muscled but impassive male human with a sphere of stone floating above its right hand raised skyward.

Piergeiron's Palace

White marble Palace and main office location for many city officials, the majority of which are dedicated to the administration of city services, such as the Watch, the Guard, city clerks, and the Loyal Order of Street Laborers. The ruler of the city - the Open Lord of Waterdeep - resides and works here.

Tower of the Order

Guildhall. Magic items. Scrolls. Watchful Order of Magists & Protectors.

House of the Fine Carvers

Guildhall. Guild of Fine Carvers.

The Map House

Guildhall. Surveyors', Map & Chart-makers' Guild.

[beybaldes]

i swam a lake of fire, I’d have walked across the floor of any sea

masterlist

Sejanus plinth x gn!reader

summary: While you don’t enjoy being in the arena, you’d spend the rest of your life there if it meant you were there with him.

warnings: okay I wrote a second part lol but can definitely be read as a stand-alone fic, loosely accurate but not like word for word scene for scene or anything, I typed Coriolanus about 7000 times for this and it doesn’t feel like a real word anymore, slightly angsty once again but fluff I promise! title is hozier unreal/nth

an: dear all my Ted lasso mutuals that may be seeing this, the gods have struck me with inspiration but for this man and this man only, Roy Kent will one day renter my heart and when I do you will get 10 million fics, I love you all dearly

Only hours ago you were sat on the steps of the academy, not an inch of space between you and Sejanus, him alive and breathing and right in front of you. And now, Dr Gaul was on the other end of the phone line, telling you that Mrs Plinth and Coriolanus Snow were on their way to pick you up, and that the three of you were to go to the arena and get Sejanus the hell out of there.

If you knew him any less, you’d say you didn’t know what got into him, but this was exactly who Sejanus was. You had no doubt in your mind that he had snuck his way in there for Marcus, for something that only he could understand; it’s why you hung up the phone without another word and practically ran down to the street, waiting for Mrs Plinths car to come for you.

Within a minute of you getting to the curb, a long, sleek, black car pulled up in front of you, and Coriolanus Snow came out of it, holding the door open for you and gesturing for you to get inside. You’d never seen him so gentlemanly. Sure, he was always polite, especially to others at the academy, but it always held a limit. A condition.

“Thank you, Coryo.” Coriolanus was startled by the three little words. You’d never called him Coryo before. Maybe it was a slip of the tongue, or maybe Sejanus’s use of it over the years was starting to wear you down and warm you up to the blond.

As you entered the car, you moved to sit directly next to Sejanus’s ‘Ma’ reaching and taking her hand in your own. “It’s going to be okay Mrs Plinth. We’ll get him out of there.” Her grip on your hand tightened with each second you got closer to the arena, just like Sejanus’s had hour earlier when the two of you were sat side by side in the safety of the academy. He definitely had his mothers smile and tenderness, and ability to ease your worrying soul just by being in her presence.

The rest of the car ride went in tense silence, no one daring to say a word until you had seen that Sejanus was alive and well, and out of the arena. Gaul and the peacekeepers had no problem all but shoving you and Coriolanus into the arena upon your arrival, the two of you gripping onto each other in mutual fear as you walked yourself into what could be your deaths.

Silence filled the arena, and it seemed as though all of the tributes had gone into hiding for the night. For all you knew Sejanus, kneeled in the middle of the room beside Marcus’s body, was the only living thing here.

As the two of you neared him, Coriolanus’s foot hit a stone, making just enough noise to startle Sejanus, who jumped as he turned around, thinking this might finally be his end. Upon seeing you and Coryo, he turned back to Marcus, letting out a breath of relief. “I thought they’d send in my Ma.”

“She’s outside, waiting for you.” You stepped forward before Coriolanus could say a word, not allowing his nerves of being in the arena to let him speak to Sejanus in a harsh tone. Sure, coming into the arena was stupid, of course it was, but that thought didn’t dare cross your mind right now. All that mattered was him. “Sejanus, what are you doing here?”

“I’m making sure Marcus has enough food to get to the afterlife with.” Sejanus explained softly, his head hung low and eyes unmoving from Marcus’s still body. “It’s a tradition, in district two, to make sure they don’t go hungry. I can’t let him go hungry.”

A clang could be heard in the distance, the children from the districts slowly beginning to stir around the amphitheatre after the noise made by you and Coriolanus emerging through the barricades. You knelt by Sejanus’s side, taking his hands briefly in your own.

“That’s beautiful, you’re beautiful, but we need to leave.” Your hands were once again against Sejanus’s face, cradling his cheek and frantically pushing his curls out of his eyes. His brow creased, confused with the whole situation before him; he thought you knew how important this would be to him, that you’d let him stay, stay with him even.

“But you were right.” Oh God. What had you said to make Sejanus think that this was a good idea, an idea at all? If Sejanus was to die in here you’d never forgive yourself. “I have to go where the cameras are. I have to do this.”

“Sejanus, no.” Tears threatened to pool at your waterline, knowing that what you’d said only hours ago could’ve led Sejanus to his death if he hadn’t been spotted sooner. “Not like this. Please.”

He went to fight against it, knowing that if he wanted to make change his best chance was from here, at the heart of the problem, but he never got the chance, you cutting him off before he could even begin to speak. “Gaul has cut the cameras, if you die in here she will just pretend that you died of the flu. There are better ways to make change, and I know you can and you will.” Closing what distance there was left between the two of you, you rested your forehead against his. Would anything be enough to get him to leave with you now? “You will be the change you want to see in this cruel world, Sejanus, but not in here, not like this.”

Despite the loud clanging of metal against the concrete floors of the arena, you kept your head pressed firmly against his, running your thumb across the apple of his cheek in hopes he’d leave the arena with you now, before things had the chance to get worse. As the clanging of metal got louder, and Lamina, the girl from 7, began to rise from her slumber above you, Coriolanus stepped closer to the two of you, moving away from where he had been keeping watch.

“Sejanus please, we need to go.” No sooner than Coriolanus had got the words out, Bobbin, the boy from 8, came charging at the three of you from the darkness, a large, machete-like blade in hand. Coriolanus reached out for your hand as you reached out for Sejanus’s, the three of you breaking into a sprint in hopes to escape the tribute before he could hurt any of you. The whole run he was hot on your feet, swinging his sword carelessly in hopes he’d land a hit on one of you. And as you jumped over the barriers, ready to rush for the gate, you thought you’d gotten away scrape and scratch free, however, Sejanus’s knee caught against the turnstile, sending him crashing to the floor while you and Coriolanus landed on your feet.

“Sejanus!” Without hesitation you turned back for him, coming to his side and reaching to help him up, but before you could lay a hand on him, Bobbin swung for you, slashing your arm from shoulder to elbow over the barricade. “Fuck.”

Coriolanus had grabbed a plank from the rubbled floor, swinging at Bobbin in an attempt to get him to back away from the three of you. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Your arm, your arm.” Sejanus gasped, his hand flat over the wound as if he could heal it with his touch. “This is my fault, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” You repeated, pulling Sejanus to his feet and slinging his arm over your shoulder while you wrapped your arm around his waist. As you turned to see if Coriolanus was still alive, you were met with the sight of him pummelling the tribute to death, blood coating the concrete floor. You don’t think you’re ever going to forget the sight of Coriolanus snow heaving in breaths as he stared down at the dead child. The child he’d killed. Though right now you didn’t have time to dwell on it, Coral and her gang running directly towards you, weapons in hand and ready to slice. Coriolanus jumped across the barrier in one swift movement, coming to Sejanus’s other side to help practically drag him through the tunnel and out of the gate. “Open the gate! Open the gate!”

“Open the gate!” Coriolanus yelled, the gate opening just enough that the three of you could get out to the other side, and closing immediately after, Coral and her team trapped on the other side of the gate as the three of you fell to the floor.

As Coriolanus stood, staring down Coral as she spat insults and threats at him, you turned to Sejanus, throwing an arm around his neck and crushing him in a tight embrace. “You’re okay, I’m okay, we’re okay.” Taking a second to breathe, you pulled yourself away from his touch, only enough that you could see his face and make sure he actually was okay. Sejanus leaned into the soft touch of your palm to his cheek, pressing a dazed kiss so delicately to the inside of your wrist. A smile curled on your lips. “We’re okay.”

“Your arm.” Sejanus started blubbering apologies, both to you and Coriolanus, not only for having to come into the arena to get him, but for the injuries you’d sustained in doing so. “I’m so sorry.”

Coriolanus just walked away from the scene, nodding at Mr and Mrs Plinth as he went to get his bloodied shoulder attended to and speak with Gaul, but you stayed with Sejanus, paying absolutely no mind to the searing burn that emitted from your shoulder as you helped him up. It could wait. You once again held him up by his waist, allowing him to put his arm around your shoulders despite the pain that seared through them at his touch, and helped him walk over to his Ma, who’s arms he fell into almost immediately.

“I’m sorry, Ma. I had to do it, I had to do it.” Mrs Plinth just ran her hand over his back, soothing his worry with each gentle touch.

“You need to get your arm bandaged up.”

“I’m fine, Coryo.” The blond had appeared beside you, shirt in his hands as he’d just been covered in bandages and gauze. His whole body appeared stiff and you weren’t sure if it was due to the fight he’d just won or the consequence of it.

“You’re not, you’re bleeding.” He stated, poking you at the breach of your wound as if to make a point. “See, that must hurt.”

“I’m fine, Coryo, seriously.” You folded your arms across your chest, stealing the expression on your face and taking in a long deep breath as though it would ease the pain and stop you from showing just how much it hurt. “Sejanus will need his knee looking at, I will get my shoulder looked at after.”

Coriolanus only scoffed, his sympathy for you extremely limited now. If you wanted to bleed to death to make sure Sejanus, who nearly gotten all three of you killed, was okay, then who was he to stop you? “Suit yourself. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Only you and Sejanus made it to the capitals hospital, his father insisting that if he was grown enough to go into the arena by himself, then he was grown enough to go to the hospital by himself. And though his Ma had insisted she come with, Strabo had made it clear she would not. While the damage to his knee hadn’t been terribly bad, it was still likely that Sejanus would feel sore and walk with a limp for a while. You hadn’t thought about the cut along your arm once the whole time, but Sejanus clearly had, distracting himself while the nurse put his knee in some kind of splint by tracing his finger along the jagged edge of your uniform, split open by the curve of Bobbins knife. The second the nurse announced she was done with sorting his knee, he made his move. “Can you look at their shoulder? It’s still bleeding.”

The nurse took one look over you, noticing the torn material of your red blazer and the deeper red of the blood that coated it, then ordered you to take off your clothes except for your undershirt, so she could tend to it. “Oh sweetheart, this looks nasty. Why didn’t you say anything sooner.”

“It’s not that bad.” However, your lie almost immediately fell through as she poured some kind of transparent, white liquid on the wound, you gasping as it made contact with your skin. Sejanus immediately reached for your hand, squeezing it and offering a channel for your pain, his other hand coming to rest against your temple, his fingers brushing back though your hair, much like you had done to him earlier in the day.

“You’re okay.” Sejanus soothed his thumb running across your cheek. “You’re okay.”

You were okay, but not because your shoulder was finally being tended to. Sejanus was safe. Alive and safe. And you didn’t plan on letting him out of your sight for as long as you possibly could. When the nurse had finished cleaning up the wound, she excused herself to go and find some gauze and a big enough roll of bandages, promising to be right back.

“Did you mean what you said?” Sejanus asked, his eyes not quite meeting yours, instead focusing on where his thumb met the skin of your cheek, it running over the slightly grazed skin. You must have scratched it against the floor when you fell. “Before? Outside the academy?” When it was clear to him that you weren’t sure of which thing you’d said that he was talking about, he let out a short laugh, rolling his eyes at you lovingly. “That you’ve… grown fond of me?”

“Sejanus…”

You didn’t get to chance to give your obvious answer - you’d only ever been honest with Sejanus, and you weren’t about to change that now - he started talking again. “Is that the reason you came to get me out of the arena?“

Slowly, as he continued to stream out endless questions in your direction, you leaned over from your seat in front of him, placing your hands either side of where he sat on the cot and placing your lips softly against his. Sejanus froze under your soft touch, entirely unsure of himself; he’d never kissed anyone before, and he’d thought so often about kissing you that it didn’t feel real. At least for a second, anyway, as when you tried to pull away at his unresponsiveness, he pushed his lips against your own, not too rushed and not too firm, one of his hands coming to rest against the small of your back.

“I have grown so much more than just fond of you, Sejanus plinth.” You pulled your lips away, smiling to yourself as he chased after your kiss. Less then an inch separated the two of you from locking lips again, and the only thing seeming to restrain Sejanus from kissing you again and again right then and there was the fact he wanted to hear what you had to say. He always did. “I’d follow you anywhere across Panem, from across the districts to the arena itself. They haven’t invented a word for what it is I feel for you yet.”

Sejanus seemed to be in a daze, his mind not quite up to speed with the rest of his body. One of his hands moved to cup your neck, and his eyes kept scanning over your face and repeatedly landed on your lips no matter how hard he tried to look elsewhere. Now that he’d kissed you, he worried the only thing that would be able to come out of his mouth would be the fact that he’d kissed you, at least until he had the fortune of kissing you again. Almost breathless and with a slightly shaky hold on you, Sejanus knew what he had to do.

“Will you kiss me again?”

an: mwah!!! Thank you for reading guys and for all the love on my other Sejanus fic/part one!! Potential third part set in the districts when Sejanus becomes a peacekeeper what do we think??

part 3: of the goodness, love, that I still carry for you out now!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Like a Stone 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, age gap, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Loki, Tony Stark (Professor AU)

Summary: your work as a TA is complicated by more than your advisor. (tall reader)

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

The day begins unfortunately. You are a stickler for details but by some carelessness you end up at the wrong office. Rather than Laufeyson, you’d stumble upon Odinson and his rather stuffy office mate. If you think someone is uptight, they must be. 

Still, the mistake doesn’t set you behind. You approach the correct office door and double check the placque set in the wood. Dr. Laufeyson. Hm. One day you will wear the same title. 

You knock lightly and stand staunchly in wait. Even without your rigid posture, you are tall. You never pay that attribute much attention until someone points it out, often with a childish joke about the altitude or the like. 

You wait and when no answer comes, you knock again. 

“Yes, do come in,” the impatient bark from within tightens your muscles. Well, this is a great beginning. 

You turn the handle and let yourself in. It’s not very polite not to answer your own door. Well, he hardly has to worry about your evaluation, no, the situation is quite the opposite. And you shouldn’t be ungrateful, you fought for this opportunity. 

“Hello,” you enter and linger at the threshold, “open or shut?” 

“However, you like,” the black-haired man doesn’t look up from the book on his desk. 

“Right, Dr. Laufeyson, I believe we were scheduled to meet. I’m Primrose. Your TA for this session.” 

“Yes, yes, I’ve it all ready. The green folder there,” he gives a slight tip of his head, a gesture that puts your eyes to the corner of the desk. 

“Thank you, sir,” you approach and put your hand on the folder. “I thought maybe you’d like to go over the duties.” 

He stays as he is, shoulders curled forward, his lithe and long figure hunched over the desk, his beakish nose pointed down. Only his green eyes move. His black tresses are bushed back so the spirals cluster behind his neck. 

“They are listed inside. Along with the syllabus and what I expect of you in terms of classroom duties and lesson planning,” he remains fixated on the pages. You’re slightly irked by his indifference. 

“I understand,” you lift the folder and hold it to your chest. The buttons of your blazer press into you. “Well then... I suppose it was nice to meet you.” 

“You will send your first lesson plan tonight and I will return my feedback,” he flips the page, “no time to waste then.” 

First lesson? You withhold a blanch and nod. He isn’t very accommodating. You wouldn’t expect less given the lot of professors you’ve encountered, but you though being a TA, he might have more interest in you than some dusty tome. 

“Thank you,” you turn on your heel and bite down on your irritation. 

You pull the door shut and it isn’t until you’re alone in the hallway, that the disappointment hits you. You’re not an optimistic person. You define yourself as a pragmatist and yet, that was not what you expected.  

You've been dismissed, disposed even. If he were not effectively your boss, you might go back in and let him know just that. Yet if you did, what good would it do? Men rarely hear above their egos. 

You lower the folder to your side and march down the hallway. Your heeled boots echo around you and down the stairs of the foyer. You come out and shield your eyes against the glare reflecting off the paned walls of the engineering building. Typical, yet the arts and humanity buildings look as if they could fall to dust. 

You twist around but the light blinds you from seeing the other body headed in the opposite direction. You stagger back as the folder falls from your grasp and the papers flutter all around. You wince and quickly bend your knees to gather the mess before it can all blow away. 

A chuckle crackles in the air and you glance up at the older gentleman you ran into. 

“Apologies,” you say as you swipe up the papers, moving awkwardly with bent legs. 

“Not at all, sweetheart,” he steps on a page to keep it from riding the wind. “Here, let me help ya out.” 

He bends to shuffle a few papers into his hands and holds them out. You take them and shove them into the folder with the rest. You huff and stand. He does too. You’re taller than him and would be even without your heels. He looks up at you with a glimmer in his dark eyes. 

“Wow, glamazon, love the look, sweetheart,” he winks. 

You narrow your eyes as you take in his groomed goatee, his silvering hair along his temples, and that arrogant crooked smirk.  

“I’m not your sweetheart,” you snip. “Thank you for your help.” 

You hug the folder and sidestep him. Or try to. He moves with you and blocks your way. 

“Well, you could try being sweet,” he goads. 

You back up and look him in the face. You don’t know how to respond to that. Most men don’t bother and when they do, they get one sneer from you and run. 

“Step one, smile,” he purrs. 

Your lips curve but not upwards. You teethe the inside of your lip and lock down your anger. First Laufeyson, not this character. 

“Pardon me,” you say at last but as you try to pass, he hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you in front of him. 

“You don’t gotta be shy. You a freshman? I can show you around,” he offers. “Wanna see my office?” 

You calmly put a hand on his shoulder and shove until his arm slackens. You back up and set your chin. Your nose flares. 

“I am not a freshman and I’m not interested in old men. Good day.” 

Instead of trying to push past, you turn and stomp in the other direction. Your legs are long enough, you can outpace him. Easily. Not to mention his age. 

Just another unexpected turn. You’ll just have to go the long way. Not ideal since you have a lesson due in only a few hours. 

[iriyaices]

TW gore blood death

" I loved them before they were even born. You would have to do more than that to make me betray them "

I don't know what I'm doing, just Kai Au Something about him being a phoenix dragon that never dies. He had waited thousands of years to see his family again Idk

btw Before Ninjago was separated Overlord deals much more damage than Stone Army. There are many monsters all around that had killed people and finally it Kai's family's turn

same place same time, Kai and the Phoenix Dragon died Anger connects them, causing Phoenix to channel their power to Kai. when FSM came, everything was too late, everything was over and the First Elemental Master left with his family('s corpses)

[Kai's family are ninjas and others. If I'm still not clear]

Yupp , I do it for fun Kai being very powerful//and Trauma// and lore will change a lot. Dr won't happen but will be connected to the movie instead-- and I haven't thought of a auname yet, maybe Phoenix kai?

[Next]

[nyaskitten]

EDIT: THIS POST IS INACCURATE !!!

I made the assumption Olive was editing the wiki articles, and while that's a very logical conclusion to reach, it was actually someone who shares the same viewpoints as them!!! Anything including the wiki articles and Olive's involvement is wrong and that's my bad!!!

Alright fellas, I guess we did it. We have reached the tipping point. I'm going to dedicate this post to calling out one specific person, @olivescales3, and their very toxic behavior. This post will be a bit messy, and I do apologize in advance, I'm writing this from the perspective of a Ninjago fan who also thinks beyond just the petty fandom stuff, what they're doing is just not cool.

I will clarify, I do not make this post for petty fandom drama, I make this to better spread awareness on some of the bullshit they're doing, so you can look out for and understand that they're bullshitting. Without further ado, I think we should just get into it.

So, what have they done?

Now, I should say while there is no 100000% concrete link between hyenabro and olivescales, I think based on their talking points (as well and the information I've recieved from friends in the Chima fandom, who have a bunch of prior experience with them,) it's safe to make this assumption!

So, what has olivescales DONE in this case? Simple, they've vandalized the Chima wiki on NUMEROUS occasions, even after several different people have revised their revisions, so as to discredit any conenctions between Dragons Rising and Chima.

(Green is their edits, red is the ones prior to theirs, I found this while going through their contributions section on their Fandom account, HyenaBro119)

As seen here, they have (under the username HyenaBro119) edited the pages for Chima AND the Forever Rock (I have two similar screenshots of essentially the same thing, one was from the Forever Rock article, the other was from Chima) and claimed Ninjago's lore to be some alternate universe. To further validate it, they write "Ras' visit to," but Ras NEVER claimed to have VISITED these locations, just that he knows them. They also claim the Forever Rock was destroyed, a blatant lie. Only a small section of rock on the Forever Rock was actually destroyed, not the whole thing.

Now, you're gonna ask "but Raine, how can you 100000% say it's them?" and I will cite common sense. While I cannot directly tie Olive to hyena, I CAN say their wording is SO very similar.

Both Hyena and Olive call DR "a parallel/alternate universe," and again, claim Forever Rock was destroyed, WHICH IS A FULL ON LIE. They're so adamant to protect "the sanctity of Chima's pre-established, set-in-stone lore" that they can't stop to think maybe, JUST MAYBE, sometimes a story can get new lore which can ALSO be canon!

I'd also love to share this HILARIOUS screenshot of one of their many posts, which not only backs up what I'm saying, but it's like damn they really set themself up huh!

Gee I wonder why you feel alone! Maybe it's because you are! Maybe it's because you're lying and making shit up to prove yourself right! No one is as big of a hater as you!

The also LOVE saying Ninjago cannot do anything with Chima unless they get express permission from the creator of Chima, some guy named John Derevlany, but oh man what's this I see before me?

CO-CREATOR? Oh but Olive, I thought he was the CREATOR of Chima, not CO-creator... ALSO Lego owns the rights to Chima, and Ninjago, and every other theme, as said by Doc himself! If anything he wasn't really dodging the question, just giving a vague answer, because he doesn't know much about the old contracts!

From what he said, it's clear that if they wanted to use anything from the other themes, they'd have to consult folks over at LEGO, not John Derevlany or Tommy A.!

Now here's the THING, I GET where they're coming from, it CAN be annoying to have people only care about a thing you like in relation to something else, but when you're going out of your way to argue that none of it can be canon and it's all an alternate universe it's like... god it's so sad and pathetic really.

Their lies and BS don't even end there with the wiki shit, because I have THIS glorious gem.

A) They bring up that the Ninjago folk do not know who the Phoenixes are which is like, okay??? Why the fuck are they gonna know about how another universe was created??? That's like if someone told me I don't exist in the same universe as my glasses because I have no clue who made them, that is to say, that's stupid as FUCK to say!

B) OH they say something REAAALLL funny ohohohho I am actually dying. Olive says the Phoenix icon "appeared in a Ninjago episode" and "Ninjago tends to reuse assets." Yep, NINJAGO is the one who reused the phoenix symbol, mhm. The symbol that was made in 2011 for NINJAGO, which cameoed in CHIMA in 2014, was actually just an asset reuse by Ninjago. I feel like this actually goes to show how desparate they are to feel right and validated, because this? This a lie! Ninjago made the symbol, and because Tommy A. is co-creator to both, he wanted to slip in a neat Ninjago reference, so he slipped in the Phoenix symbol Nya uses for the Phoenix tribe, not the other way around!

Another REALLY funny thing they did, aside from the wiki and Phoenix symbol shit, was this hilarious attempt at being right!

Yes, the compared the WOLF Masks to BATman's cowl, and did a horribly rough comparison illustration that very much does not make sense. If you actually compared them side by side, the only similarities would be they're both angry animal themed mask with pointy ears, which does NOT go very far in the long run. The foreheads they drew aren't even the same fucking shape lol.

OH ANS WE CANNOT FORGET THIS ONE! Their using a post about the Palestinian genocide and boycotting Lego in order to complain about Ninjago.

They claim Ninjago is produced by Lego, unlike other Lego shows, which is an EXTREMELY bullshit fucking claim. Just like Chima and Nexo Knights, Ninjago is produced by Lego, it's not JUST Ninjago produced by Lego, they are all Canadian-Danish CGI action shows, and they're all known to have Tommy Andreasen involved in the creation of them.

They're using a post about boycotting for the sake of innocent people DYING to complain about a lego ninja show for... killing evil people? It doesn't glorify war, the worst it does in regards to war is like not address how fucked up it can be in regards to the Serpentine War, but that's like it. I think it's so funny they want to single out Ninjago as if it's the only TV series where villains die for trying to conquer/destroy the world.

So, what do I want the takeaway from this post to be? What do I want you to get from it? I don't really know anymore, I just don't want Olive's horrendously toxic behaviors, and straight up lies to stop. If anything I think it's beautiful that Ninjago is making others interested in revisiting Chima again, stop being such a fucking hater dude. They act like Chima is some holy grail of Lego, the greatest thing since bread, but it, just like Ninjago, Dreamzzz, Hidden Side, and Nexo Knights, have Tommy in creative roles.

To act like Chima is somehow greater than is to place it on an unrealistic pedestal as if it's a godsend, when in reality it was co-created by Tommy Fucking Andreasen.

If you read through all of this, I do THOROUGHLY appreciate it, I didn't mean for this post to descend into an angry ramble but ehhh yk how it is. And Olive, if you see this, please, just stop with the bullshit.

[rosquinn]

Thoughts on the dr stone petrification scars

Big disclaimer,

This is just my personal thoughts and stuff I put together n noticed, a subjective interpretation, don't take it seriously Im probably wrong

Some of these are very elaborate while others are just me pointing out details I liked. Sorry. I'll start with the longer rants

This post contains characters (currently) exclusive to the manga and main plot spoilers. Maybe I'm looking to much into it but I swear to motherfucking God there's scar symbolism. anyway

Senku and Taiju

Something that always stood out to me is how similar their scars are both in shape and position, except that Taiju's is cut on the right eye and the points are on opposite sides. Now listen to me... Senku and him are opposites; one's big brained but physically a twig and the other one is the strongest most resistant man you'll ever meet but doesn't really understand anything about science. That's why opposite scars and why they need each other to go on... But their marks are in the same direction because they have the same goal and interests + deep down they're both extremely caring people who would do anything for those around them, despite how different and contrasting their personalities are at first glance.

Oh and Senku's marks are completely symmetrical and do NOT go away. Idk logic perseverance etc + Taijus are more coarse and asymmetrical. To contrast their way of thinking I think. They could be similar because they were the first ones to wake up from the petrification too but you know

Francois & the Nanami brothers

Francois' scar looks like explosion or sound waves. (Manga) Ryusui snaps his fingers to call them creating a similar shape, which is really cool I'll admit. Their scar is on their hand, just like Ryusui's.

So, both Ryusui and Sai also have scars on their hands, except Ryusui's may resemble a glove so pirate-like if we don't count the color + it's on the hand he snaps his fingers with. Mark resembling a rich man or a pirate's glove on the same hand he uses to call his butler and ask for service, and it only covers his fingers. Could be something like a symbol of power/status.

On the other hand, Sai's scars completely cover the lower part of his arms and hands, which are what he uses to code. Sai ran away in order to be able to schedule quietly and is completely locked in his work. Tell me you get it please

Yoo

I'm getting into crack theory with this but please do bear with me. His scar makes him look like Alex, the protagonist of A Clockwork Orange. A Clockwork Orange deals a lot with the theme of unscrupulous rebellion, hurting someone because you think you have complete freedom, and police brutality, which are big parts of Yoo's character. As far as I remember the eyelash marks are left on the MC after being forced to watch 484737 movies showing super brute crimes so he understands what he is doing is wrong and redeems himself. Yoo covers his face a lot to hide the mark and only removes the piece of stone that covers it at the end of the manga when he is 100% team Senku.

IN ADDITION, something important in A Clockwork Orange are the vulgar idioms and slang that teenagers invent and are completely unknown to the viewer and curiously the name and surname of Yoo are formed by informal interjections in Japanese. I've only read the book tho, never watched the movie so if I got anything about the eye marks wrong mb

Tsukasa and Stanley

I really like how similar their scars are, considering both were absurdly overpowered antagonists that had to be defeated using much more advanced science + both kill Senku at one point + their eyes are similar to some extent. I love parallels

Dr Xeno

Scar becomes? White? Splits into pieces? After he's revived a second time and decides to help Senku. Something about his ideals splitting/changing maybe. And being no longer evil thus willing to kill teenagers

Gen

Gen's scar seems to resemble a mouth that changes shape depending on whatever emotion he's feeling (or pretending to feel). I don't have anything else to say genuinely peak character design, specially taking into account that facades are a huge part of his arc and relationships with other characters (let's remember that he's the one to suggest everyone paints their scar again in solidarity with Senku. Hm).

Yuzuriha and Mirai

Yuzu's resemble the roots and vines that protected her body while she was petrified, while Mirai's make her look like a baby chicken breaking out of its shell. I think they're both cute details considering their characters:)

Homura

Considering she's a gymnast who uses her legs a lot to move, I find cool that it's on her thigh. It makes her legs look like they're cracking

Hyoga

Very circular and repetitive, something related to his weapon maybe. I find interesting that he covers them. Insert cursed speech jujutsu kaisen joke

Addition: Ukyo has no visible mark which is also cool on its own way, given that one of his abilities is easily perceiving sounds other people don't notice at all

[roxanneslosteyes]

Some theories of who might be visiting the neighbours (some of jokes because I genuinely cannot think of one for that character)

(Some of these are based on what we have on the base game, like jobs and what reason they went out for while others are straight up jokes)

Lois Stilnsky: Mostly likely her mother since she visited her mother it would make sense if her mother visited her.

Roman Stilnsky: Lois's mother visiting his wife as him and her live together since they are married or probably a Co worker who worked with visiting Roman for business reasons.

Robertsky and Albertsky peachman: Probably a family member like uncle, aunt, dad, mum, etc.

Selenne and Elenois Sverchzt: a photographer since they are models or their modeling agent/manager

Angus Ciprianni: An annoyed neighbour from another apartment building (Idk I thought it be funny that a neighbour from another building be tired of Angus calling them everyday to find a client)

Arnold Schmicht and Gloria Schmicht: Probably family members or friends or coworkers

Izaack Gauss: Probably a coworker (Like another reporter or cameraman)

Margarette Bubbles: Probably a client

Nacha Mikaelys and Anastacha Mikaelys: Maybe a teacher from Anastacha's school to talk to Nacha about Anastacha's behaviour or a friend of Anastacha she met at her school.

Mia Stone: Probably her family members since she getting married to Dr. Afton or a parent visiting to talk about their child in some way.

Dr. W. Afton: Probably family members since he is getting married to Mia or a coworker.

Francis Mosses: An D.D.D employee asking Francis for child support on behalf on Nacha

Steven Rudboys: An coworker or his boss

Mclooy Rudboys: His ex wife (he doesn't canonical have an ex wife from we know of. I thought it be funny)

Alf cappuccin: An client

Rafttellyn Cappuccin: Family or friends

[hybbart]

Was Revy’s death something planned long before or a more recent development?

Tl;dr it was an idea I had in the back of my mind for a while now that it could happen, but when and where weren't set in stone until circumstances naturally fell that way and I was literally drawing the pages.

It's something that came about naturally. I knew once I did the more time-skippy years Revy would probably die eventually, just because he was getting older, but how and why came about as events happened. It was just 'this thing happened and here's the logistics of it based on everything'.

There was a chance Revy would die protecting Jimmy the same way there was a chance Jimmy would lose his wings or Hels would die- I don't decide anything for certain until it's down on a page and published- but it wasn't something I wanted to happen off screen at the very least. The way events played out and what I wanted to draw that's how the cookie crumbled that he survived, but the sculk was something that would be a problem and it happened that by the time they saved Jimmy it was mid-fall.

I thought also after so many bad days the ranchers ought to have a few good days before all the consequences caught up, it might be too depressing if they didn't get at least a small moment to breathe.

I go back and forth on whether the sculk should have started being visible on the outside, but I thought it might be Too Much on top of everything to have that stress when Jimmy was kidnapped and it's completely possible for it to have not been visible. It had thr side effect of probably feeling out of nowherr maybe, that's the give and take of the options.

I also debated whether the ranchers would leave him to turn, try to prolonge things, or put him down. The first option was eliminated pretty quickly, but I decided it probably would be again Too Much afyer this arc to have another full winter's worth of pages where Revy is either slowly dying in the bg or not present at all? Either way I knew by that point Revy just wouldn't make it through the winter if it was infecting his brain already. He'd only get more unpredictable and violent and need lots of care and focus, and that seemed like both for the sake of the readers and the ranchers not a great choice.

It might have been the choice Tango made if he was on his own, though. I don't think he has the constitution to put a pet to sleep, even if E False could provide the medicine to do it painlessly. But with Jimmy there I think it's the most believable and realistic choice for them.

[theoryofthemultiverse]

I know this is probably out of character for him, but... Imagine Dr. Ratio being flustered about having a crush, but only when no one is looking. Bonking his head on his desk, writing poetry only to hide it under various books, getting snappy and mean with others because he's so confused over his own feelings. Like, yeah, he knows what it is, but *why*? There's no conclusive data to tell why he feels this way! His crush is just like any regular person, surely there must be some pattern or combination of factors that can explain this!

Ladies and gentlemen, this right here…

YES! JUST YES!

Honestly I had a thing in my drafts and I wanted to pin point it too so thank you for getting that stone rolling. I don’t actually believe it would be so much out of character for him!

Veritas Ratio would be agitated. A crush? On a normal person? It cannot be. He was set on dying alone, toxically thinking no one could ever match his intellect, so he would surely never fall for anyone would he?

Oh he was so wrong. When he met his crush he instantly viewed his crush as an ordinary person. A person that wouldn’t play a big part in his life’s strategy. Well you can give him 0 points for that because that mindset was gonna be obsolete when he finds out this person possesses an ability that he finds fascinating, utterly fascinating.

Like his crush f.e. being extremely good with emotions, just being very kind, or having any other personality trait that makes them special, that makes them themselves. Also preferably a trait that he doesn’t have, at least not this strongly.

For example, he might be creative to some point, but if he met his crush who had their own imaginative view of the world, that probes him to change his perspective from time to time. Also with a person that is not a genius there would maybe come a certain simplicity to said perspectives which he could find fascinating either.

But nevertheless the reason, because as we all know, love just strikes at the most coincidental moments with the most different of people:

He would still be confused. Himself a man of pure focus that is really never wavering suddenly finds himself to be staring inside his book and committing a (at least to him) sin, by only reading superficially. All while he also then catches himself to suddenly just let his eyes run over the paragraphs, thinking he is reading but in the meantime his thoughts run back towards his crush.

Poor man read enough books about it to know what it is for sure so at first he’d be the kind to gaslight himself out of it.

„No you are not in love, they are just a nice person, this is it. You are thinking about what they did that made you think about them, not them personally.“

Save to say that doesn’t work long and then, like this dear anon said he would hit that head on the tabletop, or sink under the water of the bathtub. Because he realizes he has no chance in fighting this.

And Veritas, a man of reason, would search for said one. He would do a complete psycho analysis first of himself and then of his crush to find out what about them makes him go oh ever so crazy.

Because he simply couldn’t continue to work this distracted. He feels like a fish out of water. Also we know he is not the kind of person that would leave this untouched. He might be embarrassed but he knew if he couldn’t continue his work productively soon then he might get an existential crisis.

So he copes with it, not sure if with poetry (if so he would do it in Latin to make sure no one accidentally reads it ;) or also, and he really really thinks 10 times about it before giving in to his love wrecked brain’s desires, sculpting his crush.

His students would be confused with him as well because they might just find him to be a pinch too less strict. So when he is distracted with thoughts of his crush he might let one or two mistakes slide. But everyone knows to better not ask him about it, or he is going to snap.

All in all he is going to try to get closer to his crush then, to find out more about what they did to him. And while he might also do that to desperately find flaws in his crush, it would just make him fall harder…