#i also get that my original wording made it feel like this was about My Feelings

[spuirrelwiththeletterp]

cutely slides in the yap post about their Sans AU that was previously accidently posted and jumps out of a window 😊

I've posted some art of my kid, but haven't given their name(I did) or any other info. I will eventually make a proper info post on them, but for now...

this booger right here is Error Print Sans, or just Print Error (or Error Print)

an absolute feck ton of words under the cut that's me just throwing up my thoughts ⇓

they originally started out as a passing thought that was just Error!Sans but CMYK colors, which evolved into a whole different character who didn't even have anything CMYK going on and I forgot about them for around two or three years until I re-entered my Undertale/UTMV phase recently. seriously disliked the character and the direction I took them in so I decided to start from scratch, took the original CMYK concept, and Print Error was born

am still working out their lore. I have ideas for some events that led to their current state, though how they got into the Anti-Void or why their attire changed after becoming an error is still beyond me

I called them Print Error because inkjet printers use CMYK ink and they're an error (very creative ik) they also feel weird being called just Print but they don't know why

even though I made its design with the CMYK color model in mind, its more CMY than CMYK due to actually not having any black, the way its body works just makes it look like it has black↴

Print Error's being is composed of 3 overlapping color layers (cyan, magenta, yellow) that each depict how much of that magic they have. less saturated colors means less magic left, and running out of all three colors will leave Print Error in a mindless "no color" or "all white" state where they can't use any magic unless they absorb color through physical contact

the alignment of Print Error's layers reflect their mental state. more misaligned layers means more mentally unstable or intense Print Error's emotions. more aligned layers means Print Error is more "there" in their own chaotically fragmented way, but layers rarely ever align too closely...

Their body is not affected by lighting, which means they stick out like a sore thumb with their bright colors and vantablack bones (it's already hard enough to just make the effect, shading them would just be an absolute nightmare 😭)

Print Error's strings are much thicker than a typical error's and come from both its eyes and mouth. Print Error can additionally absorb CMY colors from objects/beings with its strings

Print Error's attacks (bones, gaster/printing error blaster blasts) come in cyan, magenta, and yellow, which all have their own properties, but Print Error can't control what color their attack will be half of the time

Print Error is cold to the touch but has thermoanesthesia, so it doesn't know its a walking ice cube. its confused why others react so weird when coming in physical contact with it

Print Error does not understand social cues and personal space. they're often in a chaotically playful mood, though not always

Print Error is morally grey and can't tell the difference between good and bad, everything is neutral to it... apart from mistakes

Print Error's thoughts are inconsistent, usually jumping from one topic to another, having multiple thoughts at once, or not having any thoughts at all. it usually "lives in the moment", often going with the flow

Print Error's fragmented mind kind of leaves them absent minded most of the time, getting easily distracted and forgetting things like it's nobody's business. though they can often hold their focus if they're intrigued by something

even with a horrible memory, Print Error can remember things at random, though often it's something that it was previously intrigued by, or just something completely random. either way its gonna forget not even 2 seconds later

Print Error deeply believes that any mistake, no matter how small, can be catastrophic, causing them to have a sort of perfectionist mindset. they try to avoid making any mistakes, and punish themself over any mistakes they do make (leaving out details)

if Print Error witnesses someone else make a mistake, there's a chance their mind might not register it, but more often than not, will get seriously exasperated at the person for making a mistake and might even crash out of frustration. not because of the mistake itself, but more so out of fear for the person, though Print Error doesn't recognize the feeling nor reason behind it

though they do heal quicker than usual, it's a double-edged sword as it subconsciously encourages Print Error's more self-destructive behavior

I originally had Print Error have excellent depth perception, until I thought of Print Error seeing everything in the same layered effect others see them in. definitely gonna explore that idea!

there are many more ideas I have for Print Error but I don't know how to "coherently" include them so those are gonna be revealed over time 😉

If anyone wants to ask anything about Print Error, feel free to ask! I would love to answer any questions about them and I got nothing but time!

been stressing over this post for like two weeks and I just set a deadline so I wouldn't tweak things till the heat death of the universe

was heavily inspired by @ossiethegreat's Static Hue/Error!Color post to make my own rant on my own kid, so there might be some similarities cuz I am oh so ✨️creative✨️. link to the post because I absolutely loved reading its ideas and I love Hue

I AM SO SORRY OZ IF YOU DID GET A NOTIFICATION FOR THE UNFINISHED VERSION OF THIS POST THAT WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN I AM SO FRICKING SORRY 😭😭😭

I really tried to explain my thoughts and I feel like I failed in certain areas 😭 I struggle with explaining my ideas and especially the more in-depth ones, so some things might change if I find better ways to explain them

I definitely plan to share more of this gremlin, and especially if more than one person is interested in them!

also found some older drawings of Print Error I made previously but didn't share, so I'm sharing now because I don't think I would have shared these at any point in the future

also a lil lore one 👀 which I like but also don't like

[atoriv-art]

What are your thoughts on Sasuke x Gaara

beautiful showstopping saved my life we love you sasugaa <333

ok to actually answer: i think they have a very compelling dynamic! i really really like their chunin exams era with gaara being weirdly obsessed with sasuke because they're both "damaged" to put it in some way!

i wish we got to see sasuke's opinion about it a little more, especially since it comes at a time where he's starting to come around to the idea of using his power to protect and not just kill itachi, but this "i relate to your pain and i need to make sure my pain (and to gaara, therefore my power) is still bigger and more powerful" dynamic is soooo fun to me as an introduction point between them! i find it a lot more compelling than what it got interrupted by 😅

i understand the value of having gaara see someone who is Literally just like him (ie also a jinchuriki), but imo having him deal with someone who he perceives as Emotionally just like him (ie traumatized, angry and lonely) was already excellent...

also!!!!!!!!!! i'm not a fan of how sasuke is characterized in the five kage summit in general (or rather how he's demonized by the framing of it all. i love a good public meltdown. his evil laugh lives in my brain) BUT i looooooooove the scene with gaara confronting him i was NOT expecting it when i was watching it the first time and it was like an angel smiled down upon me.

and and and (guy who gets to bring up the naruto games again) they do a fun reversal of their original dynamic there it in the ninja storm games, with sasuke being the one to flaunt his pain and power against gaara

LIKE SORRY I JUST THINK IT'S FUNNN!!!! they have a lot in common and deal with it similarly but when gaara's at his lowest sasuke's starting to get better, and that gets flipped later on: when gaara's figured himself out it's sasuke who's completely spiraling... hehehehe!

ok ill put the rest in a read-more. jesus

i get why the pairing isn't very popular (sasuke has like, two of the biggest pairings soaking up all of the fandom attention span alkdsmak) but i cannot standddd the weird consensus that they don't like each other 😭 gaara showed in that scene that he does still hold some amount of respect and empathy for sasuke, enough to offer him a helping hand when he was at his lowest, and sasuke himself was engaging in the conversation much as he disagreed with gaara... it's gaara who starts the fighting back up, not sasuke!

imo gaara's words to naruto later on that get twisted into a "girl dump him" speech (😒.) are obviously meant to serve as a warning to manage expectations, because he Knows his friend is still not going to give up on sasuke and might not even particularly want him to, but he's speaking from the kage angle as opposed to what he personally would want

gaara CRIED for sasuke and stopped the fighting specifically to talk to him for fuck's sake he doesn't HATE him, his siblings have to convince him to give up on trying to talk to him and there's a distinction made of what should be done as a kage. and while i have a thousand things to say about how i don't love how the manga handles its kage characters wrt framing them as Generally Good, i do think it's notable that it's this that makes him give it up

"personal feelings" meaning, his siblings can recognize that gaara doesn't fucking want to fight him and would really prefer to talk this out. I think about this a lot sorry KSMDKSMDK so much of the consensus is that gaara, specifically, can't stand sasuke and for WHAT.

and as a sidebar i think their insistence on calling e/o by their full names/titles ("Uchiha Sasuke" / "Gaara Of The Sand") is so fucking funny.

i know what you are. also:

sasuke engaging in battle banter. OPEN YOUR EYES

ANYWAY!

i actually think that of my "quirky" pairings (the sasugaaneji triad that is.) it's the one with the most canon basis and it's not even close. however it's also the one that i notice people engaging the least with ASKJDNSAKD which is obviously fine it's just a little funny to me

[call-me-copycat]

Michi…. Shinsou’s hero name… how are we feeling?? It’s okay but def not what I expected 😭

Leaks for those unaware:

Ok, being a huge MHA fan once I saw an update about Shinso I nearly cried on instinct but now some time has passed I'm able to think about it more

It doesn't seem too bad for a hero name? There's worse after all: Tail Man, Sugar Man, Invisible Girl, Grape Juice, etc

Still, I like to think we as a fandom have grown close to the conjectured name MindJack for him so it's certainly a little unfamiliar

That being said, while I do wish his hero name had something to do a little more with his quirk, I do like the name NightHide (it's cheesy but so are most of the Hero names - look at All Might's!)

It fits the same pattern Horikoshi goes through when he's made most of the other Hero names, which I like because it fits Shinso in just a little more (so nice seeing him not sticking out anymore but now a part of the group)

It also makes sense in hindsight that his hero name doesn't allude to his quirk because the whole point of his quirk is depending on others not knowing what it is

That's why I'm a little confused that he seems to be a Pro Hero instead of an Underground Hero? I feel that with a quirk like his he might be better suited for the Underground life (most would speculate based on his similarities to Aizawa after all)

Maybe he wanted to forge his own path? Maybe he just likes being part of the group? Aizawa only really had Hizashi and Nemuri growing as a hero, so he might've been better suited for the loneliness that came with being an underground hero. Shinso throughout the series seems to always be surrounded by people, so he's probably more used to it than solitude like Aizawa (just speculation)

That being said I definitely liked the Shinso cameo, it made my day (because most of the leaks seemed to bring lots of pain to me ૮( ̳ т ̫ т ̳ )ა)

I might share the rest of the leaks I got from Twitter actually, this is very exciting for me (very exhausting too)

That being said, look at him in the back!

I really hope he kept his original Hero outfit we saw in the anime because I thought that looked fantastic, so that's why I'm a little worried about people talking about how his outfit looks more like Aizawa's (⁠´⁠；⁠ω⁠；⁠｀⁠)

As much as I like the Aizawa - Shinso dynamic, I want to see Shinso grow! I want to see him carve out his own path in life!

I'm always happy to get Shinso content at this point so I can't be too picky, that being said it's not a bad name at all! (´∇｀)

Edit:

I feel the need to point out in Japanese it'll sound a little different than when it's spoken in English

In English, "Night" and "Hide" sound a little similar, only due to the middle "I"

In Japanese, "Night" will be said similar to "Nai-to" (high to low pitch) and hide will be "hai-do" (since this is also high to low pitch, the D is sharper and sounds similar to the T in "to" in "Nai-to")

It just sounds a little more uniform in Japanese, so I kind of understand why more people are put off by it in standard English

It's an okay name, not bad, and I think it actually fits Horikoshi's habits when it comes to Hero names -⁠ᄒ⁠ᴥ⁠ᄒ⁠-

"SunEater"

"EraserHead"

"All Might"

"Red Riot"

"BackDraft"

Combining 2 English words into 1 typically (obviously with exceptions like "Ingenium" or "Tsukuyomi")

"EdgeShot"

"Loud Cloud"

Overall he's just one to come up with quick, cheesy, partial English names for his characters - I think we've gotten so used to calling these people by their hero names that we forget how odd they must sound to outsiders (I remember thinking "Eraserhead" was a weird name for awhile as a kid actually) (⁠๑⁠¯⁠◡⁠¯⁠๑⁠)

[chevroletdean]

Tainted — Chapter 1: Practice My Confession

SUMMARY: As his nightmares get worse, Dean realizes he’s turning into something he’s terrified of; he needs his girlfriend to promise him something.

SHIP: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (MOC!Dean x Reader, Demon!Dean x Reader) GENRE: Angst TO NOTE/WARNINGS: Seasons 9-10 spoilers, established relationship, angst, alcohol, violence & gore (a little grittier than canon level), mentions of torture WORD COUNT: 2.5k A/N: This is the first chapter of Tainted, and my second post for the @jacklesversebingo challenge! PROMPT: "I don't want to find out what I would do if I lost you." CREDIT & LINKS: header edited by myself ──〃★ dividers ──〃★ jacklesversebingo 2024 masterlist ──〃★ series masterlist

PLAYLIST

The clock's digits stared back at him, mockingly so — 4:06 AM. Their glow matched the same crimson shade that had originally startled him awake.

He was still breathless, too, after jolting up into a rigid, wide-eyed state.

Every fiber of him felt as if it was made of stone. Lifeless, cold, paralyzed. Everything except his heart, anyway. That part of him defied his stillness, hammering relentlessly against his ribs and threatening to leap into his throat.

Squinting, he averted his gaze by lowering his head. Reluctantly he blinked down to his hands, which were trembling in his lap. Though his clammy palms felt sticky and cold, a pang of relief washed through him when he realized it was simply sweat that was sticking to his skin.

He had half expected to see the blood still.

Just a nightmare, then.

Those weren’t anything out of the ordinary for Dean Winchester. The man had spent more sleepless nights in his life than he’d ever had the luxury of a full night’s rest.

However, this one was different. It was raw. Violent.

Last time his tormented slumber left him this hollow and shaken was years ago — back when the memories of Hell were still fresh in his mind. Even to this day, seven years later, the times of fire burning flesh and endless torture sent shivers down his spine. But it’s been a while since his dreams were this vivid.

The soft rustling of bedsheets pulled him back to reality.

“Dean?” — Her voice was thick with sleep and laced with concern. Just mere moments ago she had been fast asleep. Peaceful and calm at his side, grounding him as always. Except he was still unable to shake it off.

This feeling, which was just as attached to him as the symbol embedded into his skin.

“Hey,” was the only lame reply he could muster. Even the movement of his mouth felt askew and wrong. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

Instead of replying, she reached towards the nightstand, flicked on the lights and sat up. Dean remained perfectly still at her side, his eyes still glued to his trembling hands.

That was until her hand entered his field of vision. The second he understood her attempt of grabbing his hands, he pulled his away. His shoulders stiffened further as he cleared his throat.

“Just a nightmare, ‘m fine,” the hunter grumbled, more to himself than anything, whilst swiftly swinging his legs over the edge of his side of the bed. He rubbed his palms up and down his thighs thrice, then ran his wiped hands through his messy hair only to realize his forehead was just as sticky with sweat.

Even with his back turned towards her, quite a literal manifestation of the impenetrable walls he liked to build around himself, she recognized the gravity of his ‘nightmare.’ His shoulders were slumped yet tense, and the way he avoided not only her gaze but also her touch caused her stomach to churn.

Right away she understood this was about more than just an unpleasant dream.

She watched in silence as he got up, barely making out the mumbled word “shower” as he slipped into the bathroom.

Part of her wanted to follow after him, just to make sure he was okay. As okay as he could be, anyway.

They’ve all noticed how on edge Dean was lately. Not that anyone blamed him for it, given the stressful nature of the past few weeks. Defeating Abaddon has taken a toll on Dean, more so than any of them wanted to admit.

They could’ve never killed a Knight of Hell without the Mark of Cain.

However, it became more and more obvious that the strings attached to this curse were heavier than originally anticipated. Desperate times had called for desperate measures. But seeing Dean slip away from sanity more and more made her question whether it was really worth it.

Ever since killing the demon, his temper became unpredictable.

Even his appetite had diminished as of late, shocking both Sam and her when he downright refused to order a cheeseburger at one of his favorite fast food spots. Furthermore, Dean’s patience ran thin lately, his recent behavior during cases increasingy reckless — if not downright suicidal. He’d charge into the enemies’ nest, guns blazing, just like that and without regard for any possible dangers.

Not to mention, the frequency of those nightmares have reached an all time high, a new record if you will. It wasn’t just the usual disruption of his four hours of shut-eye either; these were the kinds of nightmares that had him instinctively reach for the gun under his pillow, nightmares that left him giving up on going back to sleep at 4 AM.

She would’ve asked him to open up to her, but she knew that would be like talking to a brick wall. Whenever she’d test the waters, he’d dismiss her and avoid awkward conversations about his feelings.

Still, it was worth another try.

As she listened to the water running in the bathroom, she decided to slip out of bed as well, despite her own fatigue. Grabbing her fluffy robe and putting on her slippers, she used the small time window to head to the kitchen. Since it was the middle of the night, the bunker was eerily silent, every step of hers echoing off the bleak walls.

Once in the kitchen, she grabbed a kettle and two mugs, brewing up some tea. Something to warm and soothen those nerves of Dean’s. For good measure, she added more ingredients to both cups, then walked back to their shared room.

She kicked the door shut behind herself just in time for Dean to leave the bathroom.

Dean only stole a brief glance in her direction, before he sat down on the bed again, back leaning against the headboard. “You didn’t go back to sleep?”

“Figured a cup of tea would do us good,” she shrugged, crooked grin on her lips. She handed one of the cups to him and maneuvered herself to join his side. “Roiboos-Orange.”

Dean sniffed at the steaming liquid.

“Not to sound ungrateful, sweetheart,” he sighed, already moving to hand the cup back to her. “I don’t think I’m in the mood for a tea-party.”

“That’s a shame, ‘cause I even added the special secret ingredient,” she replied with a feigned pout and fished a small flask from the pocket of her robe, wiggling it in front of him. The quiet sloshing of rum inside indicated the bottle’s half-empty state.

Dean paused, then choked out a weak chuckle. Convinced, he brought the cup to his lips and took a sip. Behind the sweet aroma, a spicy note lingered, which admittedly did fill him with some warmth, at least.

“Bribing me with drinks now, huh?”

“Only for the special occasions,” she mumbled and went for a sip of her own cup. Normally she didn’t like endorsing Dean’s drinking habits, but she could tell he needed something to steel himself. Deseperate times, and such.

“Special occasions,” Dean echoed. He sure didn’t like the sound of that.

“I’m not gonna beat around the bush,” she sighed, her fingers closing around the warm ceramic as if she could brace herself for a heavy conversation that way. “Your nightmare, what was it about?”

Unsurprisingly, silence followed.

With great effort, Dean stared at the golden colored mixture in his hand. He focused on the swirls of steam emitting from it, along with its herbal scent. Clearly, he didn’t want to talk about it. Then again, he knew better than anyone that he couldn’t bottle it all up forever.

Then, Dean took a big swig of the warm tea, deeming it to be his liquid courage.

“Abaddon,” he vaguely answered at last.

“Abaddon,” she echoed, skepticism obvious in her tone. “But… you killed her months ago, Dean. She’s no longer a threat, right?”

“Right,” Dean hummed and allowed his finger to circle the rim of his cup. “She isn’t.”

At that, her brows knitted together in confusion. Admittedly, she didn’t understand what Dean was hinting at. If he wasn’t anxious about Abaddon, what else made him so skittish?

“It’s the Mark,” he gruffed through a strained voice, and he definitely did feel his throat close up, no matter how often he’d try to swallow the lump inside. “It’s this burning sensation, I— it felt good, killing her, you know?”

She remained silent at his side, listening with increasing confusion and tension.

“Because we had to defeat her,” she nodded in agreement, but Dean shook his head and she saw him clutch the cup until his knuckles turned white around it.

Clearly, she didn’t get what he was saying. Not at all.

Dean paused for a moment, unsure how to put it into words. Killing Abaddon hadn’t been a task of necessity. It had been one of urgency, the personal kind. He needed to kill her, yes, because every fiber of him had demanded it.

Because he wanted to do it.

“Because it was satisfying,” he corrected her with just a mutter under his breath, barely audible, as if he was ashamed to admit it. “The First Blade sinking into her was just, well, powerful. It was like scratching an itch.”

He stared ahead, blankly. Even in the dim light of their bedroom she saw the green of his eyes being swallowed by something dark and cold.

“It keeps replaying in my dreams, me killing her,” Dean mumbled.

He remembered every detail of it, even though at the time it had felt like he had just blacked out. Impaling Abaddon smoothly, her pained scream melting into her last breath, him stabbing the lifeless body again. And again, for good measure.

And again, and again, and again.

Sam had struggled to make him snap out of it, to make him drop the First Blade.

The familiar voice of his girlfriend reeled him back from the flashbacks. “You did what you had to do,” she reassured him, but he knew that it wasn’t as easy.

“I kill other demons in my dreams, too,” he continued, clearing his throat. “Tonight, I dreamt one attacked you and I just… I snapped and I ripped him apart. I’m talking limb after damn limb, severing sinew and muscle and tearing flesh from every fucking bone, until there is nothing left but pulp.”

It was the way he said it that sent cold shivers down her spine.

It was not as romantic as it may initially sound, not when his hands were twitching, jaw clenched and eyes filled with a sinister bloodlust. That was what it was all about.

The Mark of Cain was singing a siren’s song, calling for violence. Demanding bloodshed.

She knew her boyfriend would do anything to protect her. He’d kill for her in a heartbeat, without regret, if it meant keeping her safe. After all, Dean Winchester was known to be ruthless when it was necessary.

But was it really about fighting for her, or was it about ripping the enemy to shreds?

Dean’s small ministration — him scratching mindlessly at his lower arm where the Mark was embedded, burnt into him like a scar — told her he was after the latter. After the thrill of gutting foes like animals and drawing enough blood to quench the curse’s thirst.

It was an unsettling thought, both for her and for Dean.

They had already seen the darkness that came with the Mark of Cain, but the real grasp it had on Dean suddenly seemed much more terrifying.

She, too, remembered seeing him practically slaughter Abaddon.

But she also remembered him taking back control, and she knew he still held the reigns.

What he needed most now was trust. And she did trust him, with her life, always. Mark or not. So she reached for his hand for the second time this night. This time, her fingers grasped his wrist successfully, gently but firmly, and she pulled it away from his arm so he’d stop scratching the Mark.

“It was just a dream, baby.” Despite her greatest effort, there was a slight tremble in her voice.

Her eyes searched his green ones and she saw the turmoil within. The look of exasperation.

He was so tired.

“You don’t get it,” he huffed, his voice breathless and broken. “I enjoyed it.”

Was it about vengance? Maybe.

But even more so it was about the sheer simplicity of it. The twisted needs falling into place so perfectly whenever, dream or not, he’d sink a knife into flesh, crack bones and drain as much blood as possible, until it was hot and sticky on his hands.

The Mark craved it, corrupting him slowly but surely into madness. It was constanty calling for him to do unspeakable things, even now.

It demanded him to kill.

“I’m scared of what I’m capable of,” he whispered through a strained voice and squeezed her hand, clinging to her like his life depended on it. “In that nightmare, you were just gone and I… I couldn’t control it. I just saw red and it felt so fucking real.”

Without hesitation, she reached over him, placing her cup of tea on the nightstand on his side and adding his right with it. With both of her and both of his hands free now, she interlocked their fingers together.

“It wasn’t real,” she reassured him. “You can control it, you always did.”

Dean took a shaky breath and scoffed. So far, yes, she was right. But what if one day he’d fail and lose his composure? He felt like he was hanging on by a thread. And he was way too weak to hold on for much longer.

He was slipping. He knew he was. It was only a matter of time.

His voice was so defeated, weeks of exhaustion weighing down heavily on him: “I don’t want to find out what I would do if I lost you.”

Those words were a stab to her chest. She didn’t even know what to reply with. No words could console him, she felt just as helpless.

“We’ll find a way to get rid of it,” she whispered, but they both knew she couldn’t promise something like that.

They could try, and they have looked into just about everything. But it was a losing battle, honestly. There wasn’t much lore on Cain, much less on the curse and how to remove it.

“No,” Dean sighed, shaking his head. “No, ‘cause if not, then— I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Dean—”

“You have to stop it,” he interrupted her. “If things go to shit— when they go to shit, you have to stop it. Stop me.”

The invisible stab-wound in her chest froze to solid ice. He was talking as if he had already given up on a cure. Was it so wrong to still have faith?

“Nothing will go to shit,” she insisted, letting go of his hands only to cup his face instead. “Look at me. We won’t let you down like that, you know that, right?”

He regarded her words for a moment, but the silence between them was heavy and the despair palpable.

“Promise me you’ll put an end to it if things go wrong,” he spoke, begged. “Please.”

Dean Winchester Taglist: @ladysparkles78 @deaniemyboo @winchester-whiskey @whormotional @spacecowgirl126

@zepskies @calibootsgirl @hot-and-confused @spookyfunhottub @berryblues46

@midnight--raine @emmy21842

Put a green heart 💚 in the comments to be added to the Dean x Reader taglist. Let me know, if you want to be tagged for this Series specifically. (Please note: Ageless blogs will only be tagged in fluff and angst posts!)

[14dayswithyou]

no way you dropped the biggest river lore in the tags and moved on like it was nothing 😭 can i ask if this is still your intentions with him? bc it sounds like you changed your mind halfway 🤔

im ngl though i really enjoy how ren and river are similar and different to each other, but does that mean river would hurt his angel but leave our friends alone the same way ren would never hurt his angel but would unalive all of our friends? since they're suppose to be each other opposites. i really hope this makes sense 😬 my final question is what is ren doing on thursday? i want to go on a cute pier date again 🩷🌸

@secretkoa asked: and can i hear more about what unsent memory is suppose to be about or is that off limits? idk if i asked this in my previous question so ignore me if i did! thank yuo and remember to drink lots of water 🐸🌱

⌞♥⌝ For those who haven't seen the original post, I want to quickly clarify once more that while River was originally my OC, he's since been picked up and revamped by my friend Jesse/@unsentmemory!!

However, now that Jesse has stepped away from the yandere community, River's fate (and da fate of Unsent Memories) has kinda been put on the sidelines for the foreseeable future.

‼️ Massive Unsent Memories and River spoilers under the cut ‼️ CW for: mentions of gore, torture, mutilation, self-harm, etc.

With all of that being said, yes, Jesse's original intention for River was for him to be your standard "serial killer-turned-yandere once he accidentally catches feelings for his latest victim (Bunny)". The only main difference is that I originally planned for River to be a generic murderer first, whereas Jesse had him become a yandere right off the bat.

You also asked to know more about Unsent Memories, and I think giving a general synopsis(?) would be fine?? ^^ But basically... After getting involved in a car accident, Bunny wakes up with amnesia and gets tricked into thinking that this random guy — whom they've never met before — is their loving, supportive boyfriend named River. In turn, he convinces Bunny that staying in their shared home would be more beneficial than staying in the hospital as it might rekindle some old memories, he'd be able to take care of them, and it would be easier for them to recover at their own pace. But surprise!! River is actually a frequent patron at the Murderer Motel™ and now has trapped Bunny in his Torture Basement®!!! <3 He also maaaay or may not've been the one who hit them with Ren's car as well... ^^ Oopsie daisy hehe

And yeah!! Similar to what you've said, River was also supposed to share (somewhat of) a narrative foil with Ren!! I personally wanted them both to have similar, complimenting vibes with each other — all while having completely different/separate motives and incentives when it comes to the object of their affection. I'm glad to see it was conveyed well enough; even after Jesse's additions to River's characterisation :3 I know I already shared some examples in the previous tags, but I can share a few more:

Where Ren puts Angel's feelings and opinions above his own, River purposefully ignores Bunny's and does everything for his own personal benefit. Essentially, "I'm doing this for you" vs "I'm doing this for me".

While Ren would never dream about harming Angel in any capacity, he's perfectly happy to kidnap, extort, torture, and kill everyone else... In contrast to River, who's accustomed to torturing and brutalising others for his own twisted enjoyment and sees it as a way to show his interest in Bunny.

Kinda silly how Ren claims to be a freelance programmer (but is actually a hacker) and how River claims to work at a music shop (it's a coverup for his second torture chamber lmaoooo).

[CW: implications of SH] Ren is willing to go as far as mentally and physically hurting himself if Angel asks him to, whereas River is willing to physically mutilate Bunny if it means keeping them by his side. [end CW]

With that being said, you can assume that Ren is easily swayed by Angel's words, opinions, and emotions, whereas River can easily sway and manipulate Bunny due to his own feelings and emotions.

This is something I've actually mentioned before, but Ren always prefers things to be tidy, so he often cleans himself up after disposing of his victims. Compared to River, who casually wears the bloodstains with pride and blames it on getting a bit rough with someone else during a boxing match.

It's no secret that Ren is willing to change every aspect of himself to earn Angel's love, and River is willing to change his serial killer ways to return Bunny's love. Da power of friendship and repressed childhood memories gksdgjh T_T /silly

Ren pretends to be a Normal Guy© with tons of empathy to spare, whereas River pretends to be a Regular Person℗ with the heart of a himbo.

I could go on but you get da point lol

So, yeah!! This is essentially the vibes we had planned for River (and Unsent Memories) before Jesse stepped down /pos ^^ I feel like talking vaguely about UM is fine since River only has a small cameo in 14DWY — and I'm sure that if Jesse ever returns from war (/silly), they'll give River muuuuch more justice than I possibly can :3c

[chococookiez]

this has 2 saves already even though i haven't talked about it at all so ig there's an audience to throw it out to somewhere . fuck it we ball

WOE. INCOMPREHENSIBLE SLEEP TOKEN INFESTED GABV1EL PLAYLIST BE UPON YE.

[puppyeared]

who up seeing their disorder in a fictional character but feel like its not their place to put a name on it

[batsplat]

casey also talks about sepang 2015 what do you think of that

oh in that podcast? uh... lemme listen again...

yeah idk it's not really anything new I'd say? he's said basically all the same stuff in more interesting and extensive ways elsewhere. I think casey inevitably has a very 'well feuding is bad and helps nobody' point of view, has expressed that before in the past, does it here again, and he's also drawn a parallel between himself and marc on several occasions. which... well, of course there's similarities in terms of public discourse or whatever, but the parallel really falls apart whenever casey argues the feuds cost valentino. like, I do think it's sometimes important to just. keep in mind. it's interesting that casey draws this comparison in his mind but that doesn't necessarily means he's right about this. I'm not sure how you'd argue that starting a feud with casey cost valentino anything competitively? you can argue it didn't help him I guess, and then we can have a debate about the ins and outs of the 2008 season. we can also have an argument that in a hypothetical world where casey isn't ill in 2009, valentino doesn't break his leg and casey isn't on a piece of junk in 2010, and valentino isn't on a piece of junk in 2011-12, then actually maybe valentino sparking open animosity with casey COULD have cost him. but we don't know that! didn't happen! I wish we could have found out, but we never got the chance! as it stands, the tally on this is pretty straightforward: casey won the title when things were reasonably civil between them in 2007, and valentino took control of the following season at the exact moment he worsened the relationship between the pair of them in 2008. obviously, it's all more complicated than that and casey would of course argue laguna didn't negatively affect his subsequent performances... but it certainly didn't help them. like, at the very worst valentino escalating tensions in 2008 is a complete net neutral. after 2009, them being bitchy to each other every other tuesday was completely competitively irrelevant beyond maybe affecting how they approached occasionally fighting for a podium position. hey, maybe casey used that feud to fire himself up through sheer spite throughout the later stages of his career, but that doesn't actually support his anti-feud stance - it's basically the exact same thing as what valentino does. they're both quite similar in that regard! always so hungry to prove a point, to show how someone else is wrong. kinda half the point with this feuding business is to get yourself going, get yourself motivated, yeah. he straight up openly admits to using yamaha's repeat rejection of him as a way of giving himself motivation, and at the end of the day that's really not all that different?

anyway, what else does casey say... oh yeah, that him and the other aliens were already kinda prepared for this and had learned vale's tricks. that valentino had only been able to get into the minds of the previous generation. welllllll *wiggles hand* sure, I mean, he did clearly have to change his approach... he couldn't just use the exact same playbook to get to them, either on-track or off-track. but that's why he did change up the playbook... again, whether you want to believe valentino won his final two titles 'in the head' rather than just through pure pace kinda depends on how you assess the evidence, but it is at the very least a debate. and, y'know, it's always worth remembering that valentino's most important mind games with casey didn't happen in a press conference... it was on the track. and the on-track stuff really is just embedded in how valentino approaches winning. speaking of aliens, this is what dani and jorge have said:

like, valentino's entire approach to his riding, even to the way he's setting his bike up, is deliberately about directly fucking with you... he's not actually always trying to be faster than you as much as he's trying to give himself the tools to make your life miserable, to pressure you into mistakes, etc etc... and again, especially with casey (if anything because he was so mentally sturdy), the off-track stuff was really just window dressing. (I know they bicker a lot after 2009 but it's just so fundamentally irrelevant to actual on-track competition.) so you can be aware of those tricks, but it also doesn't necessarily help you when someone's being nasty to you on-track in a way you just fully do not enjoy. which is what it was like for casey! for casey, a lot of this comes back to the truly unpleasant context of how he was perceived by the public, how he was treated as mentally weak or 'broken' or whatever partly because he had the misfortune of coming up against a bloke who had the reputation for breaking rivals. I think it's quite natural to end up with a bit of a hardliner 'actually I've never been mentally affected by a result in my life' stance - and of course casey is a lot tougher than a lot of people give him credit for. that being said. sometimes your rivals affect you, shit happens, it's part of the game. it's fundamentally a nice idea to think that valentino's tactics weren't just morally wrong but also ineffective, which is kind of the appeal of this narrative, right? you want to believe you're above that, you want to believe you were adequately prepared and wise to valentino's tactic. it's unsurprising and understandable that casey does tend to tell the story that way, but again it's *wiggles hand* also hard to describe it as completely factual

uh. what else. oh I'm thrilled casey does canonically know valentino and marc were friends, he has said he wasn't following motogp too much during that time period so you couldn't be sure of that. does this mean anything? does it tell you anything? well, no, but it's just a pleasing thought to me. I like that. oh also 'provoking particularly aggressive riders isn't a good idea' is kinda a funny take from casey? like, he of all people would hate the idea of being cowed by someone's reputation like that... casey's right that provoking fast riders can potentially be dangerous, but y'know I do think that's probably not news to anyone almost nine years later. um. that's all I've got I think

[falinscloaca]

people who characterize marcille as ‘oh that lesbian elf motivated so much by how she wants to bang her s/o’ literally don’t get it. a marcille who KNOWS shes a lesbian would be on a whole ‘nother level of “annoying about it.” insert joke about gay being a characters only trait level annoying. she still writes off her gay shit as gender envy, protectiveness, or solidarity. once she realizes , its all over. shes going to be getting into harmful intra/ter-community discourse on twitter before collapsing into a years-long disillusionment wreckage as all her online buddies either go entirely transmisogynistic or end up overcorrecting and becoming a different kinda queerscourse radical. she even takes the word ‘lesbian’ out of all her urls :-(. not because she isn’t one or its bad but bc its a painful reminder of a sense of pride that now exists only in memory. and eventually she changes it to FALINSC-💥

[todayisafridaynight]

Since you mentioned it, what did you think of Speak No Evil? I was thinking of watching it myself :0

i really liked it ............ my friend scoffed at me when i told her i was watchin it so take my opinion with a grain of salt tho </3

[froggomcdoo]

you ever read a work of fiction so good that you immediately need to find more and consume it but it doesn't have any more and there will likely be no more so you just suffer and think what if.

[infizero]

ok guys i dont wanna be a hater but im gonna be 100% honest i didnt rlly like the nimona movie 😭 I MEAN IT WAS FUN. it was nice. but i feel like it was missing everything that made me like the original graphic novel and honestly by the last like 30 minutes i was kind of just waiting for it to be over so i could read the book again 😭 NO HATE TO ANYONE WHO RLLY LIKED IT believe me when i say i dont think it is bad or anything. but i feel like just sooooo much was changed that it didnt feel like nimona at all to me. idk how to explain it, im sure once i reread the book i’ll be able to put it into words since the original will be more fresh in my mind. i think it was good but as someone who was literally obsessed w the og graphic novel it was honestly kinda disappointing. but i dont rlly care honestly its still rlly cool it got a movie!! 

but in my mind at least it proves that some things dont need to be made into a movie. ppl act like movies are the best form a piece of media can take and if something gets made into a movie then that’d be the peak form of it. but i honestly think nimona works wayyyyyy better in its original graphic novel form. most of the early stuff is way more slice of life lowkey stuff that lets you get attached to ballister and nimona as characters and get invested in their relationship w each other, BEFORE all the angsty final act stuff happens. also there honestly was just a ton of stuff that felt to me like it worked better in the original, like jousting tournament thing instead of the knighting ceremony, nimona being captured and being forced to turn into her “true” form rather than this new version with it just sort of happening bcuz of Emotions, etc. also the movie suffered from a lot of pacing and tone issues imo but the former i think is just from that lack of the slow buildup of their friendship, and the latter is something that i think just worked better in the book. idk again I’LL BE ABLE TO SAY THIS STUFF MORE CONCRETELY WHEN I ACTUALLY REREAD THE BOOK but i dont remember there being so much jokes and goofy shit DURING serious scenes. like iirc in the original during serious scenes it was SERIOUS. but in the movie theres so many unnecessary unfunny jokes and stuff. idk IDK i probably just had too high expectations idk. anyways

[sisterdivinium]

It's interesting to stroll around Fanlore reading discussions that took place in 2007 talking about the fractured nature of fandom on LJ and people interacting without having enough context (as in commenting on a post they did not read by a user they do not know) when you're living in 2023 and people distribute likes without reading anything or commenting; when there's supposedly "drama" of unknown origins happening in more than one website at the same time because there's no real "home base" for fandom activity anymore; and we're all carrying on with our lives reblogging things without even looking at previous notes and reactions to that same post even if out of simple curiosity...

[miss--serotonin]

I genuinely don’t think I can sing enough praises for this entire work.

Aqua Regia VII: Saturate me, I can’t get enough.

Previous chapter // First Chapter

Neuvillette x Fem!reader

Warning: SMUT NSFW 18+ MDNI

Word count: 5.7k

Conifer forests quake in fear at the way you two pine. What do you get when you cross a very pent up dragon and the object of his affections? So much fucking love it will rot your teeth.

CW: sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (fem rec) neuvillette has a dragon tongue, claws appear but no wounds are made, Neuvillettes nest™️ nicknames: my dearest, my darling, love, pretty girl, perfect girl, very gendered language, im sorry :( unrealistic first time sex, multiple orgasms, implied multiple rounds.

Authors note: this is so fucking mushy gushy heavy fluff heavy romance. I literally couldn’t write his first time being any other way. He’s obsessed, okay? There is a lot of declarations of love, devotion, very flowery and flattering language. There are not many things hotter than an all powerful being declaring their utter devotion to you and then fucking you until the sun rises. I left it a little open ended, so maybe an epilogue chapter, if y’all are interested? Anyways, remember to reblog and comment your thoughts! It’s my literal favourite thing to read your opinions and compliments, even if you’re shy, just send an anon ask! I love you all, thank you so much for your support on this piece.

————————————

The sound of little pearls scattering onto the floor accompanied the press of your spine against the inside of Neuvillette’s front door as his mouth consumed yours. 

You were panting, hands roaming over each other as your tongues danced. You’d never kissed like this before. The polite pecks you’ve given men after failed dates were nothing compared to the way Neuvillette drank in your lips like they were the finest water in the world. 

His large, lean body pushed you against the fine wood of his door, hands pressing up into your hair as he pulled your face ever closer, scattering more little pearls along his entryway. 

“Do you…” he panted, lips never leaving yours for more than necessary. “Truly want tea?” He asked.

You smiled as he continued to kiss you breathless. “Tea can wait.” 

He picked you up and hoisted you against him once more, your bottom resting on his forearms as he twirled you around, making you giggle and squeal. 

“Your perfection knows no bounds.” He murmured against your lips as he began to move towards the stairs. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you up the stairs and down the hall, but he hesitated before bringing you into what you guessed was his room. 

“Ah…” he said, a deeper blush working its way into his pale skin. “I forgot about my… well you see…” 

You smiled, pulling him closer to press a peck to his lips. ”What? I can hardly imagine your room is messy, Neuvillette.”

He closed his eyes tight, opening the door to set you down inside. You turned, looking around the room. 

A very large four poster bed was the main focal point of the room, lush sheer curtains hanging from the tall frame, making it seem luxurious and inviting. But the piles of silks, pillows and blankets surrounding the mattress making a large circle in the center was what stood out the most to you. Taking a step closer, you could see there were little things scattered throughout the barrier, the gloves you’d gifted him last month, a few shirts and coats, little trinkets and things here and there. 

Your brow furrowed before you turned to look up at him, finding him looking between you and the bed with a hand covering the lower half of his face. 

“It looks like…” you glanced back at the bed. “It looks like a nest?” 

He breathed, nodding, pinching his temples in embarrassment. “When you were last here, we spoke of some subtle changes I’d been experiencing since gaining my full dragonhood, yes?” 

You nodded, walking towards the bed to run your hands along the fabrics making up the walls of the nest. 

“I’ve been experiencing strange urges, instincts I cannot seem to control no matter how hard I try.” He said lowly, somewhere behind you.

The blanket you ran your hands across was soft, fur of some sort, and it felt so luxurious you wanted to bury your face in it and never leave its soothing embrace. 

“Urges?” You said, feeling a heat pool between your thighs at the thought. 

“Yes.” His voice was suddenly right by your ear, his heat pressing up against your spine. “For example, right now, seeing you next to my bed, admiring my nest— it makes me want to pick you up and place you within it so that I may crawl over top of you to do deplorable, feral and unspeakable things to you.” 

A deep, spine tingling shiver raced through you. You knew the general direction of where this was headed when you begged him to take you to his house, but never in your wildest dreams did you expect Neuvillette to admit something so… dirty… so openly. 

You turned, meeting his eyes with a gasp as you came face to face with a version of your leader you’d never seen. 

He was flushed, panting, his eyes glowing in the moonlight streaming into his dark room. His horns were glowing too, their blue hue radiating behind him as he loomed over you. To anyone else it might’ve been intimidating, but you felt so safe in this moment, so satisfied to know that he wanted you. 

“I…” you wondered how you should phrase this, how to make him understand that you were not put off in the slightest by any of these changes in him. To you, he was still Neuvillette. His draconian quirks made him all the more desirable because it was just another part of him. 

“I’d like to help you satisfy those urges, if you’ll let me.” You said, looking up at him through your lashes. 

Very suddenly, he dropped to his knees, his hands clutching at your dress. The act startled you, and you stumbled back, bumping into the walls of fabrics lining his nest.

”I am undeserving,” he whimpers, and your legs nearly give out at how broken he sounds in this moment, looking up at you. “I know not how to pleasure you in the way you are so deserving, I only have these instincts, these feelings pushing me to take.” 

He stumbled forward, almost blindly on his knees as his eyes kept yours locked to him. He pushes his face closer to your core, inhaling deeply against the fabric of your dress, his eyes fluttering back. 

“And you always smell so sweet, it eats at my very soul to not taste you at every moment of every day.” His eyes look like they’re watering, begging and pleading as he keeps talking, keeps sending waves of pleasure to your core with every word spoken. 

“You deserve more than this animal I’ve become, but I cannot help that you undo me. You unravel the very stitching that I have woven over these past five hundred years and the thought terrifies me because—“ he’s panting, chest heaving, hands gripping the crushed velvet of your gown. “Because I want you so completely, so entirely. My want for you consumes my very being.” 

Your heart sings, because how could it not? You didn’t have very much experience with anything like this either— really none at all. And he was worried? He was worried he was too much? Not enough? This man was the sovereign ruler of a nation. The elemental dragon of your land, a primordial being with more power than you could even begin to fathom. 

“Oh, Neuvillette,” you brought a hand to cup his cheek, the very same action you made the last time you were in his home, comforting him. “Will you do something for me?” 

He clutched you closer, pupils nearly consuming his irises. “I would drain the seas if you told me you did not favor the way they glimmer in the sunshine. I would blot out the sun if you told me you did not enjoy the heat on your skin. Anything, my dearest. Anything for you.” 

“Give in to it.” And you swore you could feel the breath catching in his chest. “Take me and give me everything your heart desires, because I am already yours.”

”Truly?” He pleaded, seeming so small below you.

You nodded, speaking softly to him as you ran your fingertips across his cheekbone. “From the moment I entered your office Neuvillette, I’ve been yours.”  

Your world flipped upside down as Neuvillette lunged, tackling you over the wall of his nest and into the bed. 

He kissed you so deeply it stole your breath away, you gasped as he pulled back to mouth across your jaw, nipping at your throat. 

You noticed his teeth had grown sharper during your fervent kissing, but feeling those teeth drag like little daggers against the delicate skin of your throat made you shiver with something like fear— but it was laced with arousal, with anticipation. 

You moaned as he licked and sucked on your neck, and he whimpered above you, clutching your waist as he went. 

“I'm sorry, I’m sorry—“ he said between kisses along your skin. “I can’t control myself, I can't—“ 

You reached up, grabbing his face in your hands, making him look at you. 

“Neuvillette, listen to me.” His eyes fluttered between yours, searching. 

“When I told you I love you, that means I love you without conditions.” You said, leaning up to kiss his lips gently. “Which means I will love you when you are poise and regal, when you are the perfect gentleman, but I will also love you when you are not.”

You could see iridescent blue scales rising into his skin, framing his eyes so beautifully. You could see them form around his throat, and his horns continued to glow. When he told you he was becoming undone, you knew he was serious, but you didn't realize what exactly that would entail. 

He was beautiful. Raw and open and completely yours. 

“I will love you even if you are rough, or crude, or selfish. I will not watch you suffer against your instincts when I so desperately wish to see you dive headfirst into them.” 

The subtlest of tears formed in his eyes, and the rain continued to batter the windows outside, pouring down around you— the perfect symphony to accompany this moment. 

“I love every aspect of you, Neuvillette. Even this. Please,” you whispered, pulling him ever closer to your lips. “Please, just take what you need. Take me.” 

———————————

He does not remember how your dress and petticoat managed to find themselves sprawled across his bedroom floor, or when his gloves and shirt followed, but he does remember the delightful squeak you gave when he tore them from your body. 

You were shy, of course you were— but he was having none of that, gently and selfishly pinning your arms against the bed as his eyes consumed your body, your naked skin. 

You squirmed and whimpered underneath him, and part of Neuvillette worried that you weren’t enjoying yourself— but the closer he came to your lower half the more he realized that the source of that mouthwatering smell was coming from between your legs, and his mouth did indeed water. 

You had told him to let go of his restraint, to give in, but he had the sense to keep part of himself in check, knowing he needed to be somewhat gentle, attentive to your needs. 

What knowledge he did have of this process was from books, and even then, he thinks the last time he read a romance novel was likely over a century ago. 

He knew basic anatomical structures, their functions, but putting it all into practice was another thought entirely. 

Through his lust filled haze of admiring your naked body, he swallowed the drool pooling in his mouth— so barbaric. 

“Tell me,” he panted. “Tell me how to make this pleasurable for you.” 

You were so red, it fluttered down to your chest, and he watched as your breasts heaved with each breath. He wanted to wrap his lips around them, suck on the delicate skin, so he did. 

You whined as he leaned down, and he loved the feeling of your hands mussing up his hair, pulling his golden circlet away and tossing it into the void that had captured the rest of your clothes with a clattering sound. 

“You, ah—” your breaths were heavy. “You have to work me open. So you don’t tear me.” 

He gripped your waist again, licking and sucking gracelessly across your chest, just enjoying the taste of your skin. 

“How?” He asked, tonguing his way down to your navel, slipping his tongue around the skin of your adorable stomach. Your skin tasted like pure relief, calming the aching fever inside of him one motion of his tongue at a time. 

“F-fingers?” You said, looking down at his hands. He looked too, and you both seemed to notice at the same time that his hands weren’t exactly… normal anymore. 

Those pesky scales had wound up coating his hands too, he could feel them aching around his eyes and throat, his nails forming long black claws that dragged the faintest red lines along your perfect skin. 

“Hah— yeah,” you breathed a panicked laugh, making his chest flutter with anxiety. “Maybe no fingers this time.” 

“What about my tongue?” He said, looking between your eyes and the apex of your thighs.  He wanted so desperately to make this good for you, but he couldn't deny that the thought of tasting that delicious smell directly from the source was a more than appetizing idea. 

You groaned, throwing your hands up to cover your flushed face. “You say it so casually, too—“ 

“Would you enjoy it if I used my tongue, darling?” 

He watched your thighs clench the best they could with him between your legs, and your hands started shaking.  

“Yes,” you whimpered, hands still covering your heated face. “Yes please.” 

Your thighs quivered as he shifted down, his nostrils flaring as he came face to face with your covered core. 

There was a small damp spot on the soft cotton covering you, and he brought his nose directly to it, inhaling deep and groaning as you whined. 

He was truly drooling now, and the desire to taste you became too overwhelming for him to wait any longer. 

The cotton was shredded off your body in delicate ribbons in the wake of his claws, but before you could react, his tongue was already swiping over the entire length of you. 

“Oh!” Your back arched sinfully off the bed, your hands gripping into his hair as he swallowed and sucked and licked over you. You tasted like perfection. No water in the world could taste as crisp and pure as you did— like sweet ambrosia, like everything he never knew he needed until now. 

He tongued over your clitoris, and you seemed to like that the most, keening out as he increased the pressure. But you said you needed to be worked open, which meant…

He pressed his tongue lower, circling it around your twitching hole. You jumped, your nails scraping his scalp— making him moan into you. Your fingers flexed around the base of his horns, and his whole body shuddered as he listened to you whine and keen. 

He pressed in then, eyes blowing wide as a warm, tight heat enveloped the tip of his tongue. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them further, pulling himself closer to press more of himself inside you.

”Neuvillette!” You gasped out as he pushed in further. Even so, He couldn't help but feel like it wasn’t enough, like you needed more. 

Just as that thought crossed his mind, his tongue seemed to expand, thickening and rolling out into your twitching walls even further. He’d never felt a change like that before, but he kept going, moving and undulating it within your tight heat and savoring the taste of you so deep.

”Holy—“ you screeched, “Oh my Archons!”

A deep, chest rumbling growl reverberated from where Neuvillette was pressed into your core, and even though he knew it wasn’t truly a problem, something inside him did not enjoy hearing those words slip from your precious lips.

But you told him to let go, so he truly did lean into his instincts. 

He pulled his tongue from within you, letting its new length dangle from his mouth a bit before licking up all the slick that had smeared across his face, delighted at the way your eyes popped and your mouth gaped open. 

“There are no pathetic gods here, little one.” He growled, that primal aching welling up in his chest. “Only me.” 

“N-Neuvillette,” you stuttered, hands grabbing at his hair as you tried to pull him between your legs again. “Please—“ 

“Better.” 

He dove back in, using the new length of his tongue to thrust in and out of your dripping hole. He could feel your soft walls relaxing, and a deep, rumbling purr pulled from his chest as you writhed and moaned beneath him. 

Tasting you like this, feeling you move and cry out beneath his hold… it was slowly soothing the ache inside of him that had been tormenting him for months. He could feel himself twitching in his pants, his cock pressing against the confines as it leaked all over the fine material of his pants and briefs. 

In the back of his mind, he was grateful he had enough of a grip on his form to not be sporting one of his more… alarming draconic features, surely that would frighten you far too much to continue. Well, perhaps another time. 

He continued his thrusting, working you open and relishing in the wetness coating his tongue, in the way you cried out his name, your fingertips brushing against his horns as you pulled at his hair. It only served to make him drool more, soaking you even further. 

“Neuvillette—“ you keened as he arched his tongue upwards, feeling your walls clench and quiver around him. He repeated the motion, making you slap your hands down to the bed beside you, grasping at the sheets as your eyes popped wide. 

He continued to press against the spot that seemed to make you fall deeper into your pleasure, his eyes never leaving your face as he thrust his tongue with vigor, watching as you quivered. 

Yes, something inside him purred, watching you lose yourself. Keep going, take it from her. 

He felt the moment your walls tightened so completely that he thought something might be wrong— only to watch as your face shattered into a broken sob of pure delight, your whole body twitching as you cried out. Your thighs tried to clamp around his head, but he pressed further, working you through it with his writhing tongue. 

After a few moments of him working you through the height of your pleasure, you grasped at his hair again, only now you were pushing him back, gasping as your body violently twitched. 

“Too much—“ you squeaked. “T-too much!” 

He pulled back from you, licking your remaining juices from his lips as he watched you regain your breath. 

You threw an arm over your eyes, your every breath heaving in your chest as parts of your body twitched in the aftershocks. 

He crawled over your body, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he purred and murmured against your skin to comfort you.

”Your taste is divine,” he whispered. “Better than I ever could have dreamed, and my dreams were always drenched in your image.” 

“I—“ you sighed, finally pulling air into your chest unlabored. “I dream of you too.” 

“Oh?” He purred, smiling against your skin as he ran his hands down your arms. “And what exactly do you dream of, dearest?” 

You smiled, staring up at the ceiling and avoiding his gaze with flushed cheeks. 

“Your eyes.” You whispered, glancing down at him. “I dream of the way you look at me.” 

———————

You knew this was going to be a lot. 

Neuvillette is not a small man by any stretch of the imagination, but you always figured he would at least be a reasonable size — whatever that may be. 

Clearly your expectations were a little on the small side, because when he unbuttoned his trousers, pulling them down and off his body, exposing his naked skin in all its glory, your eyes ached with how wide they were staring openly at the apex of his creamy white thighs. 

Flushed a ruddy purplish red at the tip, it was literally leaking as he knelt between your spread legs. It twitched—he must’ve noticed your staring, and you chewed on your bottom lip, wondering how in all the abyss you were supposed to fit that thing inside of you. 

Neuvillette was panting. He looked irrevocably desperate, like he was ready to burst at the seams at any moment. 

“Neuvillette,” you whimpered, spreading your thighs further for him. 

He hadn’t touched you since he took his pants off, just staring down at you as you drank him in, watching your reactions. 

“Are…” he seemed strained, like the words themselves pained him. “Are you sure?” 

“Please,” you whined. “Please, inside me, I want you inside.”

He seemed to bite back a groan, eyes roaming over your soaked core, your blush traveling down your chest. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

It was delicate, loving, nothing like the unrestrained devouring before, but it still seemed like he was holding himself back. A beautiful bowstring pulled taut, ready to snap. 

“Neuvillette,” you murmured against his lips. “Please, I want it. I trust you, I want you, please.” 

Your pleading seemed to stir him, and you could feel the hot press of his length against your aching hole. You didn't know what it would feel like, the anticipation making you tense up and hold your breath. 

“Breathe, my love.” Neuvillette said, though he himself was shaking as his hands held him up above you. “Relax, breathe.” 

You released a breath and the tension from your spine, melting into the pillows as he chose that moment to breach your entrance, the slick pooling out of you allowing him to slide the crown in with no resistance. 

You keened, your back arching as you felt the first push. “Ah, fuck! Fuck!”

Neuvillette was still shaking, his voice quivering and yet he still found it within himself to chuckle, low and deep as his eyes fluttered across your face, drinking in your pleasured reactions. 

“Such vulgar language,” he breathed. “Where’d my polite little assistant go?” 

You swear your eyes were about to bulge out of your skull as he pushed another inch in, slowly, his body vibrating above you in restraint. 

It wasn’t hurting, but the stretch was so intense it was turning your brain into mush. You never swear in front of Neuvillette, gods, you never curse in front of anyone but Wriothesley, but your brain seems to short circuit as Neuvillette enters your body one delicious inch at a time.

You were thankful you told him to stretch you out, thankful for that gods forsaken tongue that just came out of nowhere, long and thick and surprisingly serpentine.  

“P-politeness isn’t really…” you tossed your head back in the blankets as he sunk in further. “Isn’t really my main focus… r-right now.” 

“Ah, yes.” Neuvillettes words spoke confidence, but his voice was shaking, his arms vibrating as they held him above you. “We have more pressing things to focus on at the moment, don’t we?”

You groaned, half in embarrassment at his wordplay and half at the way he pulled out a bit just to press back in further. 

He just licked up the column of your throat, that ridiculously long tongue making your whole body shiver in delight as he pressed in further. 

“Holy f—“ you grabbed his forearms, leaning up the best you could to look down at where your bodies were connected. “How much more is there? It’s so… so…”

Your stomach flipped at how much you still had to go, how little your brain could comprehend that this weapon was supposed to fit inside you. 

“Do you need me to stop, my darling? Is it too much for you?” Neuvillette breathed against your neck. His words spoke one thing, but it was like his body was screaming for you to say anything but. 

“No!” You panicked a bit, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him against your lips, kissing him filthy. “Please, don’t stop.” 

It took a couple more minutes of gentle thrusting, the rough texture of this thumb swirling against your throbbing clit and some very messy kisses, but when his hips finally pushed flush against yours, your eyes rolled back in your head, mind finally vacating all thought in favor focusing on how blindingly full you felt. 

“Oh,” Neuvillette breathed. “—My darling. My sweet, sweet girl.” His hips were frozen, probably taking in how you clenched around him, because you could feel it— the way your walls fluttered and squeezed around his length as he remained motionless. 

He twitched, and you keened, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring his face level with yours, panting into his mouth. “Please,” you whined. “Please move.” 

He shuddered before hesitantly bringing his hips back, watching your every breath as he pressed forward again. 

The deep, guttural moan it pulled from your chest must have flipped some kind of switch within him, because all sense of hesitancy seemed to drain from his body as his hips began a desperate rhythm, smacking against yours. 

“Ah!” Your back arched, eyes rolling into your skull as he finally, finally fucked you. “Neuvi— Neuvillette!”

His eyes seemed glazed over with emotions, looking down at you with so much wonder. His expression was strained, breaths coming short as his hands snaked down to your hips, leaning back up and away from your grip.

The change in angle, though minuscule, drastically altered the way his cock pummeled your insides. It was intense before, your mind was nearly floating in the clouds— but now his cock bullied itself along your most sensitive spot and pressed so deep within you, you were sure you could nearly taste it.

”Perfect,” he breathed. “My perfect, perfect girl. So warm and tight— it's like you were made to take me.” 

Your brain had exited the atmosphere, and was now drifting away into the deep nothingness of space. You swore you could feel your orgasm welling in the pit of your core, making your legs shake where they were perched on Neuvillettes hips. 

“It— it feels so good,” your words were starting to slur, your vision hazy with unshed tears of pure ecstasy as you blinked up at him. “I n-never— I never wanna stop. I want this forever.” 

His hips never faltered, not even once as he shuddered and groaned, the sound making you clench down around him even more. His hands gripped your waist tighter, the black claws digging into your skin, sure to leave marks. 

A possessive sort of noise rumbled from his chest, his eyes flaring with need. 

“I’ll give you all of myself until the end of time,” he murmurs, voice full of deep, rasping need. “Tell me you’re mine, I’ll give you everything.” 

Your heart welled, your eyes blinking tears as your legs shook harder. 

“I’m yours,” you cried. “I love you, Neuvillette. I’m yours.” 

He pushed at your legs, hands grabbing your thighs to press them up and forward, nearly folding you in half as you sobbed out in pleasure. Your body ached, your orgasm now on the very precipice as he managed to fuck into you even deeper than before, and you didnt know how it was possible. 

“Again.” He growled. 

“I’m yours!” You keened. 

His hands pressed harder into your thighs, his face leaning closer to yours. Through your haze, you could see how his pupils were blown wide, consuming all of his otherworldly irises. You could see how deeply he looked at you, drinking in your trembling form. 

“Mine.” He whispered. 

And that was all it took for the fraying cord inside you to snap. 

You screamed into the darkness of his room, writhing and shaking as it pulsed through you, all consuming and more intense than anything you’d ever felt in your life. He gasped, muttering something in a language you didn't recognize as his hips stuttered. He pushed you through it, the mind melting pleasure pulsing out into your limbs, making you go limp into the bed. 

His eyes were wild, and his pace slowed, hands holding onto you like you would slip away if he didn’t. 

“My love,” he moaned, desperate as the fluttering aftershocks worked through you, your body twitching in the sensitive overstimulation. “My love, I want to— I need—“

“Inside me,” your voice cracked, hoarse from how loud you’d been in your revelry, but it only seemed to spur him on. “Please, inside me.” 

And within the last three stuttering strokes, he was gone, his forehead pressing into yours as he leaned forward and moaned, long and wrecked and obscene. It made you flutter around him, milking him absolutely dry as he filled and filled and filled you. 

You could feel it, hot and heavy— each jerk of him inside you coating you further, marking you in white, in the deepest places as his. 

He was mumbling, his face moving to press into the curve of your neck and shoulder. Dazed, you couldn’t tell what he was saying— whether he was speaking in another language or if you were just too out of it to register his words. 

You lifted an arm to rest on his back, feeling the heat and the sweat of him. Unfazed, you drag your hand up and down his shoulder blades, relishing in the feeling of his skin, his breath as he murmurs against your neck. 

As your breath finally steadied in your lungs, no longer struggling, you ran your hands through his long, luscious hair, fingertips ghosting his horns. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally said aloud, clear and in a language you understood. “I’m sorry.”

”What for?” You smiled, trying to get him to look at you. When you finally pried him from the crook of your shoulder, your heart skipped a beat at how flushed he still was, how guilty he looked. 

It was then that you realized he was still inside you, still hard as before, twitching and throbbing as he held himself above you. 

“You begged me to take you,” he breathed, clawed hands pulling at the sheets. “And I can’t help but crave more.”

————————————

The sun had just begun rising over the dewy cypress trees by the time Neuvillette sat in the warm bath, cradling you in his arms. 

You twitched and groaned in displeasure as he ran the washcloth along your heated skin, but he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of pride at the marks scattered along your body. 

He’d been too afraid to hurt you, but after the moan you let out when his teeth accidentally scraped across your collarbone during the second round, (or was it the third?) he’d lost all sense of decency. You seemed to like them as well, and you certainly liked when he ran his tongue across the red and purple splotches to soothe them. So, c’est la vie. 

Your head lolled against his shoulder, you were barely conscious at this point, and he wanted to feel guilty, he really did. But you’d begged and begged and begged for him to take what he needed, how could he refuse? 

He pulled the glass bottle he’d brought from the cooler to your lips, stirring you a bit to prompt you to drink. 

“Please, my love. You need to rehydrate.” He smiled at the way you pouted, But opened your lips to take tentative sips anyways, your eyes still closed. 

He watched a trail of water slip past your lax lips and run down your chin and throat, his eyes carefully following the movement. He swallowed deeply, willing away the erection that was still threatening the dark corners of his willpower. 

He could honestly keep going, he couldn't get enough of you, but you were still so fragile, so incredibly mortal. He knew that he had to stop, give you a moment of reprieve. Force himself to behave until your sweet voice would sing to him again, begging him for more. He licked his lips at the thought. 

“Are… are your urges… satisfied?” You mumbled as he pulled the bottle away. You cuddled up to him, so sleepy. 

He thought very carefully on how to reply to you. 

“For now, yes. They are, darling.” He finally said. “But I believe I will always desire you as strongly as I did then— as I do now, still.”

You gave a sleepy smirk, your eyes still closed as you snuggled closer to him, your bare skin pressed so beautifully against his. 

This— this was perfect. He didn't think anything else could compare to the feeling of being inside you, so connected to your body and in tune with your emotions. But this… being with you, holding you and caring for you… it was just as beautiful. His heart felt full, and for the first time in months, he didn’t feel restless.

“I meant what I said, you know.” He said, kissing the top of your head. 

You sighed wistfully. “Which part? Because when you said you were going to ‘spend the rest of your existence finding new ways to make me shatter into millions of delicious little pieces,’ I was rather inclined to believe you.” 

He felt his cheeks heat a little. “Ah, well. I meant all of that too. But I’m referring to something I said earlier on in the evening.”   

Your voice was wavering, and he could see sleep pulling at you, tugging you into its embrace one sleepy blink at a time. “Which part, my love?” 

His chest still fluttered at those words, despite both of your endless proclamations of devotion and love last night, he was still so blissful at the prospect of being yours, of you being his. His love. 

“The bit where I told you that I would give you all of me until the end of time. That I’ll give you everything.” 

“Mm,” you said, eyes closed and words loose. “I know.” 

He ran his hands along your back, his skin finally calmed down closer to the end of the night, his scales and claws retracting and freeing his fingers for nefarious purposes. But now, he was enjoying feeling your smooth skin against his own. 

“I have things I must do, duties to this realm beyond that of my role as Iudex. It will be a long and perilous road, a road uneasy for myself and those I love. But in this, as in every other aspect of my life— I feel as though if you stood beside me, it would lighten the burden. You make every part of my life better, and I would be honored to have you beside me for the rest of time.” 

He wasn’t sure how, but if he could free the people of Fontaine from their curse, surely he could find a way to keep you with him, if you so wished. 

“Your voice is pretty,” you sighed. “I love you,” you were mumbling, and he realized you were already rather deep in the clutches of sleep, likely not even hearing a word he’d said. 

He smiled, breathing out a sigh as he kissed the top of your head once more. 

“Sleep well, my darling.” 

La Fin.

—————————————————————

Authors Note: remember to drop a comment with your thoughts! I love you guys so much 🖤

[hecksupremechips]

Derby is for colts and fillies alike so long as they’re 3 year old thoroughbreds. 3 fillies have won the derby, though the race is historically dominated by colts due to speed qualifications. The oaks race is for fillies yes, but the derby is not just for colts like your post implies. Please stop trying to spread false information. Yes people who attend derby are mostly rich white folk but behind the scenes are poc workers and people who genuinely have a love for horses and the sport alike

That feels a bit better to know. For some reason idk people around here just label one race as the girl one and the other as the boy one and it’s like why are you being misogynistic about horses. So it’s nice its not like that in reality but now it’s like weird cuz whyyyy have people around me just been spreading horse misogyny my whole life 🤔

And yeah I didn’t intend to spread misinformation but hm I definitely don’t know derby lore very well I just know some fan culture that I’ve grown up around so that’s definitely not gonna give me a very clear picture so idk what I was thinking. I’m mostly just fed up with some of the ways people have treated the derby in my area and really just fed up with family rn so I was being bitter but I shouldn’t have made any like. Statements about the actual derby when I don’t really know what I’m talking about at all and also most things in Kentucky culture and history have a really interesting background and there’s always gonna be passionate people and poc involved that don’t really get shown on the surface cuz. Racism. I do have my big grudges against these rich people from out of state or from the rich neighborhoods of Louisville who treat the derby like some big spectacle but then scoff at the rest of the state and clutch their pearls in fear when they have to park in a closed off parking lot where they gotta pay a black man for parking and then walk through neighborhoods they deem filthy just to get to the derby but eh fuck them. Let’s be here for horses and kentucky history and culture and just celebrate the amazing shit that we have going on

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

ASL brothers HAIKYUU!! AU!!!!!

Day one of Self Indulgent month for me! I love these three, i love haikyuu, i love killer whales!

(The Naval Academy is this au’s version of marines)

For those who dont know, in Haikyuu (and prob in real life too but in my experience its not as important as they make it in the anime) The "Ace" of the team is the person who primarily scores points via spiking. Theyre the Hard Hitter, basically.

Design talk👇

Originally, i was gonna make their school mascot just "The Pirates" but i couldnt figure out a clever pun with the school name so i scrapped it in favor of an animal mascot. I figured I would have a wider range of puns that way.

I landed on Orcas as the mascot because I think they really embody a pirate way of life. Theyre strong, hang out in groups of a mix of found family and their actual family, hate the rich, and theyre fun loving! And also im a bit biased because theyre my favorite animal, but hey, i said its self indulgent month, didnt I?

Their school name is a play on the word for Killer Whale (Shachi シャチ) and the word for 'knowledge' (Chishiki 知識), i just smashed the two words together. I'm very proud of myself for coming up with that given i dont speak japanese at all.

Anyway, with their designs, I was taking inspiration from orcas to match the design themes of haikyuu. Ace's hair is bleached on the underside to look like the underside of an orca's body, I made ace and sabo's eyes look more whale-like, the clip in sabo's hair is meant to resemble to spots behind orca's eyes, and I tried to make luffy's hair look more like it's round and spiking down more than i usually do.

Ace is wearing a ''way of the ace" shirt in the first picture, Luffy is wearing a shirt that just says "VOLLEY BALL" because i think it would be funny if he wore a bunch of those Zero-context-poorly-translated-random-english-words shirts that theres a bunch of in Asia. Sabo dyes his hair like delinquents do, but it doesnt much look delinquent~y because of how soft it looks. He means to do it to make him look like a delinquent though. Sabo still has his scars in this au, but he uses his hair, arm braces, and leg braces to cover them up. LUFFY AND ACE HAVE FUNKY SOCKS BECAUSE NO ONE CAN TELL THEM (or me) THEY CANT. Sabo wears athletic socks though because he's a debbie downer. He defends himself saying “It’s practical” and Ace and luffy call him “practically a Debbie Downer.”

Luffy is very good at receiving from growing up with Sabo and Ace practicing setting and spiking with eachother and assigning Luffy as Ball Boy. So he got the libero position from that cuz sabo and ace put in a good word for him. Nepotism.

I didn't feel like coming up with designs for them, but Zoro and Bepo are also on their team (theyre in the fifth image sitting on the right of the line of students). Koala and nami are student managers, Robin is the teacher manager, and Franky is the coach. all other straw hats/luffy friends, rev army comrades, and whitebeard brethren are in the stands. Im trying to keep the ages consistent with how they are in canon.

I didnt do a very in depth research, but i couldnt find what Japanese schools have as mascot costumes. and given no one wears any costumes in haikyuu for their team, i can kind of assume they dont use them over there. But unfortunately for them, I'm American. And part of the backbone of our schooling system, is Vaguely Unsettling Mascot Costumes. My sister says my design for it looks like its from Club Penguin, and i find that delightful. [moment of silence for my billions of fallen Puffles, taken from me in The Shutdown] Anyway.

I thought I was clever coming up with the equivalent of the Marines in this au being a Naval Academy. And their mascot being Seals, famously the animal that gets the absolute Worst Of It from orcas. Get shit onnnnn

I believe thats about it, thanks for coming to my ted talk :)