#i love you my anons

[letternotekisses]

Rienheart post???? Omg loving it that dilf doesn't get enough love!!!

u know what anon you’re so right😔✋almost brings a tear to my eye (although that might just be the olbus inhaler stuck in my nose - don’t ask)

if you’re looking for a good rein fic then i recommend going through @/kiwi-on-ice’s recent kinktober - she has a BOMB ass rein blindfold fic! and ofc i will continue to write for my gigantic german husband and NOBODY can stop me!!!!!

thanks for liking my thoughts pookie dis is us rn

[neteyamyawne]

https://www.tumblr.com/tsirxyawntu/725046395687649280/theirs?source=share

this is Tono and Jake being dom with sub reader, also they are yandere

https://www.tumblr.com/eyweveng/725141917745250304/training-concentration-again-your-oloetykan?source=share

this is about jake with a much younger metkaying bratty girl

https://www.tumblr.com/theblueflower05/725202779689418752/something-dirty-you-ask-something-dirty-you-get?source=share

how jakes like to fuck (im the anon too in this)

https://www.tumblr.com/quaritchsluts/725278723938582528/please-my-hope-is-only-in-you-because-no-one-wants?source=share

omatikaya jake and avatar neytiri (she is dom and they are a little out of characters but is good, also is fresh)

https://www.tumblr.com/pocoyo-yo/707798707080396800/%F0%9D%90%88-%F0%9D%90%92%F0%9D%90%A1%F0%9D%90%A8%F0%9D%90%AE%F0%9D%90%A5%F0%9D%90%9D%F0%9D%90%A7%F0%9D%90%AD-%F0%9D%90%82%F0%9D%90%AB%F0%9D%90%B2-%F0%9D%90%81%F0%9D%90%AE%F0%9D%90%AD-%F0%9D%90%88-%F0%9D%90%8B%F0%9D%90%A8%F0%9D%90%AF%F0%9D%90%9E-%F0%9D%90%88%F0%9D%90%AD?source=share

jake fucks his mate like they are young again

https://www.tumblr.com/anchoeritic/704757566041915392/%F0%9D%90%A6%F0%9D%90%A2%F0%9D%90%9D%F0%9D%90%A7%F0%9D%90%A2%F0%9D%90%A0%F0%9D%90%A1%F0%9D%90%AD%F0%9D%90%AC-%F0%9D%90%A2%F0%9D%90%A7%F0%9D%90%AD%F0%9D%90%9E%F0%9D%90%AB%F0%9D%90%A5%F0%9D%90%AE%F0%9D%90%9D%F0%9D%90%9E?source=share

dilf jake with human

https://www.tumblr.com/angelltheninth/711809888504954880/avatar-men-eating-you-out?source=share

avatar mens eating you out

https://www.tumblr.com/anchoeritic/708546015981142016/no-but-stepdad-jake-fucking-reader-sideways-at?source=share

im not really a fan of step incest or shit like that (i didn't even read this one) but i don't know if you might like this or not

https://www.tumblr.com/persefolli/724515435137187840/%F0%9D%90%88%F0%9D%90%A6%F0%9D%90%A6%F0%9D%90%9A-%F0%9D%90%8B%F0%9D%90%9E%F0%9D%90%9A%F0%9D%90%AF%F0%9D%90%9E-%F0%9D%90%B2%F0%9D%90%9A-%F0%9D%90%82%F0%9D%90%AB%F0%9D%90%B2%F0%9D%90%A2%F0%9D%90%A7?source=share

that bastart of neteyam cheats on you so you do his daddy

https://www.tumblr.com/truetogaia/713814436695146496/im-feeding-yall-so-good-rn-puttin-in-the?source=share

jake taking your virginity

if you want more tell

also thanks for before i always thinked i was crazy for being more horny during my period now i feel better

My beautiful, absolutely gorgeous amazing 🪼nonnie, i have no words, you are amazing, freaking fantastic, I'm happy we share the same period experience babes, i love you babes, thank you for all of them, i read the all last night (yes, i didn't sleep at all last night, don't come at me😭)

These just got me more horny than before lmao 😭

[adaki]

Do you draw Nina the killer perchance..

Yes and I end up disliking the drawings every time without fail but I thugged it out to give u this

[egophiliac]

do skully have pokemon?

Pumpkaboo is the obvious one, but y'know, sometimes the obvious one is the right one! (we'll say SUPER SIZE Pumpkaboo, just for fun. big pumpkin for big skeleton boy.) and another person actually also suggested Greavard, which I somehow hadn't considered, but feels so perfect that I feel like I should have. dangit.

(they can also have little Nightmare Suit costumes :D)

[rendevok]

step into the light

what do you see?

my sun,

my stars

shining on me

[hellsitegenetics]

i'm only 14, however i didn't understand this gimmick blog last year, since i hadn't learned about it in school.

i bring great news, i have been enlightened bro

i can now enjoy this blog to the fullest extent.

i feel like a fish who had been trapped in a bowl introduced to the splendor that is his home, the ocean

thank you

String identified: ' , 't ta t gc g at a, c a't a at t c. g gat , a gt ca t g t t t tt. a a ta a tc t t tat , t ca ta

Closest match: Hermodice carunculata genome assembly, chromosome: 10 Common name: Bearded Fireworm

(image source)

[banana-zim]

Don't do this, doctor - please!

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

thinking about an estranged childhood friends to lovers story with gojo……

you’re a rowdy kid. during one of your adventures, you end up at the gojo estate; sneaking your way into a vast, beautiful garden, pretty pink roses as far as the eye can see. little gojo is crouched down, watching tiny sprouts grow, and you’re too captivated to look away. bright snowy hair, striking blue eyes, all dolled up in a fancy yukata. he turns to meet your gaze — and all you give him is a sheepish laugh, before strolling over to introduce yourself. he doesn’t seem to mind the company, so you keep coming over to play with him. you bring cool rocks, pretty cicadas you caught, a dusty gameboy. he listens to you speak. he watches the way you move, wave your hands when you’re excited. he grows so, so fond of you.

one day, you stop coming by to see him — and he doesn’t need confirmation to know that one of the maids must have chased you off.

twenty years later, you meet him again, in a crowded little café. he calls out for you by name and you have no idea who you’re looking at. a tall, handsome, cheery man… wearing a blindfold? and shooting you a charming grin. you have no idea who he is, but he remembers you. he remembers you a lot more than he should. he chides you for forgetting your very best friend, but there’s nothing but humour in his voice. you watch as he speaks, as he moves, as he taps his feet under the table after insisting you order something — his treat. you still don’t remember him.

but you’re captivated, all the same.

(from underneath his blindfold, gojo watches you smile. he thinks to himself that some things must truly never change; because he still feels that familiar swarm of butterflies, with every move you make.)

[deep-space-lines]

okay but like. I just had the weirdest thought about that ‘don’t look I’m naked’ comic. Which is that that’s essentially the same thing Adam and Eve did after they ate the fruit of knowledge of good&evil. So I feel like the theological implications of that could kneecap Gabe if he doesn’t think V1 is a being with free will.

yeah ok. i dunno man. is this anything

((side note. this isn’t necessarily meant to be in-character or story-accurate or take place at any particular point in time, just a way to explore some Thoughts. i was also imagining more that V1’s words aren't actually spoken, more like Gabriel’s more articulate interpretation of whatever garbled mechanical noise V1 is using to communicate. I think an angel could do that.))

and then they fucked nasty the end

[becca-e-barnes]

Bucky pinning you down so you can’t squirm and he’s just sitting inside you while he tortures your clit feeling you clench around him. He makes you cum over and over until he finally cums.

Overstimulation + super soldier stamina = …

- 🍯

Dear God, I know I just don't have it in me to behave during cock-warming. When it comes down to it, I genuinely have no patience at all 😵‍💫

"You..." Bucky begins, pressing you down onto the bed before gripping your ankles and forcing you to flip over onto your front. "Have a problem with control."

With your face turned away from him, you can't help but smile to yourself. No one has ever said it out loud but you know he's right.

Being in control is where you're most comfortable. No hands are safer than your own. Except maybe his. You know he won't fuck this up.

"And you..." He continues, gathering your wrists behind your back, holding them tightly with one hand. "Need to learn how it feels to have control taken from you. Do you understand?"

As soon as you begin to nod your head, you feel him start to tape around your wrists, holding them together behind your back. Once he's content they're secure, he sits on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror before he pulls you onto his lap.

"Legs spread over the top of mine." He orders and you do as you're told, not because you have to but because you want to.

You notice the way your cunt is already glistening in the mirror and you're almost embarrassed because he hasn't even touched you yet.

"Fuck, you're made for this." He groans, lining his cock up to your slick entrance and you wonder if he's holding his breath too while he slides into you, as deep as your bodies will allow.

You're obsessed with the sight in front of you; your own naked body, with your legs spread so far apart you can see how your cunt is stuffed full of him.

Being shorter though, your feet can't touch the ground like this. There's no way you'll get enough leverage to fuck yourself on him but as soon as you start to tell him that, he silences you with two thick fingers between your lips.

"I'm not letting you fuck me." His free hand roams over your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples and then settling between your spread thighs.

"I'm going to play with you. I'm going to see how much you can take. I'm going to work out exactly how you like your clit stroked and I'm going to do that until your legs are shaking and your body won't let you cum any more. Maybe then I'll fuck you but sweetheart, that will be hours from now." His breath is hot against the side of your face, his fingers slipping from your mouth to your waist while he starts to flick gently against your clit.

"I'm going to start slowly. I'm going to do everything I can to drag this out as long as possible. I can feel every clench and flutter of this pretty little cunt and I'm going to enjoy it until you're dripping over my balls." At this rate, it won't be long until you're dripping onto the carpet, never mind over him. You dreamed he'd want to take control like this but you never imagined the way your body would respond.

"And then, when you've cum more times than you can handle, I'm going to tell you that I love you while I fuck you like I don't."

Update: Part 2

[awhoreintheory]

Circus Boy

Directly inspired by @erinwantstowrite 's art!!! post

Request from awesome amazing cool Anon

Over the years, circuses have lost their spark.

Dick would know— he’d literally grown up in one. Back then, the circus was a symphony of effort and artistry. Weeks, sometimes months, were spent perfecting routines. Performances were designed to dazzle, to inspire awe, no matter the country or culture of the audience. The comedy sketches weren’t just filler— they were genuinely funny, capable of drawing laughter even from the most reluctant parent dragged along by an excited child. Every act had a rhythm, a purpose, and above all, passion. The performers took pride in their craft, and the audience responded in kind, feeding off the energy, cheering and clapping until their hands were raw and their throats sore. 

Now? Now they were dull. Predictable routines recycled ad nauseam. Costumes that looked like they were bought in bulk from a clearance rack. Tents and stages slapped together with the barest effort to resemble grandeur. The magic, the joy—the soul of it all—had been replaced with a singular, glaring goal: profit. No one cared if the audience laughed, gasped, or even paid attention, so long as they paid their entrance fees.

But recently, whispers of something different had started making waves in Gotham: a circus gaining a reputation for being... well, different.

Dick’s curiosity was piqued. He hadn’t planned to go, at first. But the memories of his youth, of what the circus used to mean, stirred within him. Before he knew it, he’d wrangled (read: blackmailed) together as much of the family as he could to go see it. Which, wasn’t a whole lot considering quite a few were out of state currently, but it was enough to make him smile.

“Why must I come along? I do not see the point,” Damian groused, arms folded tightly across his chest as the group approached the circus grounds. Despite his protests, he made no move to make a stealthy exit.

“You’re coming because it’ll be good for you,” Dick said, ruffling Damian’s hair just to annoy him. Damian promptly swatted his hand away, glaring daggers at his adoptive brother.

“You don’t even know if it’ll be good,” Tim chimed in, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “What if this thing is as boring as all the other ones you’ve complained about?”

“Then we’ll all get funnel cake and call it a night,” Stephanie said brightly, making it clear where her true excitement lay. “I’m in it for the food, anyway.”

Dick pouted. “You didn’t have to say the quiet part out loud!” 

“Don’t underestimate funnel cake,” Duke added with a smirk. “It might be the only thing saving this trip if the show’s a flop.”

Dick rolled his eyes, but his grin didn’t waver. “You’re all so cynical. Just... trust me, okay? I have a feeling about this one.”

Sure, a lot of the decorations seemed cheap thus far, but Dick can’t blame them. They’re clearly low budget, with only two shows a week, versus the seven to ten a week Dick was used to. The difference was the genuine passion and excitement in the eyes of the performers. And they were just doing pre-show stunts on the street to rouse excitement! 

Tim hummed thoughtfully. “This place has been gaining rapid popularity,” he said, the subtle edge in his tone making it clear he was already analyzing every detail. Dick saw his fingers twitch as if to take a picture. 

Dick glanced over at him but didn’t comment. He recognized that tone— Tim was in detective mode, quietly piecing together threads no one else could see yet. He did, however, take the opportunity at his siblings' distraction to subtly herd them in the direction of the tents, eager to get a good front-row seat. Damian noticed, but he didn’t do much more than roll his eyes.

Steph, however, rolled her eyes dramatically. At Tim, not Dick. “Can you just enjoy one thing without looking for a criminal conspiracy, Tim?”

Tim matched her with a roll of his own eyes, the two slipping into a bickering match that’d put an old married couple to shame if they weren’t so aggressively gay. Meanwhile, Dick let his attention wander to the stage, studying the equipment with the practiced eye of someone who’d lived this life.

Suspended high above was the trapeze rig, its bars wrapped in worn leather, the steel cables taut and secured to thick iron frames. The safety net below, while a little faded, looked sturdy enough to do its job. Not brand-new, but serviceable.

To one side, a highwire stretched across a dizzying height, its slim cable shimmering faintly under the tent lights. The rigging showed some signs of age— slightly dulled bolts and scuffed counterweights—but nothing that made Dick worry. It would hold, even if the daredevil walking it would need nerves of steel.

A teeterboard sat center stage on the ground, its spring mechanism ready to launch performers into flips and vaults. Nearby, a stack of brightly painted crates and barrels hinted at comedic skits. Clowns would probably tumble over them with exaggerated flair, while a sturdy seesaw-like prop suggested slapstick gags involving plenty of unintentional (and intentional) falls.

The whole setup had a charming scrappiness to it. The equipment could use a little TLC, sure, but Dick had no doubt it would hold up under pressure. He could tell the performers had put their trust in it, and that meant something.

For a moment, Dick felt a flicker of nostalgia. The way the crew moved, the crisp efficiency with which they handled the gear— it reminded him of home, of the way his parents had always treated the stage with reverence, as though it were sacred ground.

“Do you see how high that wire is?” Duke muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and apprehension as he followed Dick’s gaze.

“I see it,” Dick replied softly, his heart tightening. He couldn’t help but wonder who had the guts to walk that cable, let alone pull off any stunts on it. He’d definitely have to stick around and chat them up, maybe have a little friendly competition. 

“Awe, man,” Duke sighed, visibly disappointed. “Guess we weren’t excited enough.”

Turns out “early” wasn’t early enough because the seating area was packed. The whole first three rows were aggressively claimed, forcing the group to settle for seats in the middle of the fourth row.

Steph and Duke promptly excused themselves to grab popcorn—or, more accurately, for Steph to scout for funnel cake. Dick had to respect the consistency.

Damian glanced at Dick, then at Tim with a withering look. “Drake, cease your ramblings. They sour my mood.”

Tim blinked, clearly taken aback. “Wait, just me? Steph was talking way more!”

Steph, who had been halfway out of earshot, whirled around with mock offense. “Excuse me? I wasn’t the one turning this into an episode of ‘True Crime: Circus Edition.’” 

“Yeah, because you’re too busy planning how to steal funnel cake from children,” Tim shot back, crossing his arms. Damian’s eyebrow twitched. Dick wondered why peace was but a mere illusion. 

“Oh, please,” Steph quipped. “You’d be the kid I steal it from, Drake.”

Before Tim could come up with a retort, and Damian became a convicted felon, the lights dimmed, cutting their bickering short. A hush fell over the crowd as the familiar low hum of a drumroll began to build.

The ringmaster strode into the center of the stage, clad in a dazzling coat of crimson and gold that shimmered under the spotlight. If you looked any closer than that, you’d see how tacky and cheap it was. His booming voice carried effortlessly across the tent.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls! Welcome to a night of wonder, daring, and delight!” the ringmaster announced, his voice ringing through the tent as the steady drumroll built the tension. “Prepare yourselves for the extraordinary, the astonishing, the absolutely unbelievable! The show begins... now!”

The drumroll reached its peak, and with a dramatic flourish, the spotlight swept upward to reveal the first performer perched high above the stage. A man in a sparkling gold costume waved grandly to the crowd before swinging onto the trapeze. The audience clapped politely as he performed a few rudimentary tricks— basic flips and graceful swings that showcased control but lacked flair.

Two more performers joined him, each clad in similar glittering costumes. They moved with confidence, transitioning through formations and passing between trapezes, but the moves were predictable and lacked the edge Dick was hoping to see. Certainly, nothing that would make this rinky-dink circus as popular as it got so quickly. 

Tim leaned toward Dick, his tone flat. “You dragged us here for this?”

“Underwhelming,” Damian muttered, his expression neutral but his tone sharp.

Dick didn’t respond immediately, though he couldn’t disagree. The tricks were technically fine— safe, practiced, polished— but there was no spark, no passion. No magic. He resigned to going home disappointed and also to the inevitable flaming via siblings. 

But then, just as one of the performers finished an awkward landing on the platform, the ringmaster’s voice boomed again.

“And now, prepare yourselves for the prodigy of the skies, the one and only Amazing Arach-Kid!”

The spotlight shifted upward again, revealing a much smaller figure poised on a separate platform, high above the others. It was a boy— young and wiry, dressed in sleek crimson and black, his face obscured by a half-mask (not dissimilar to their domino masks, actually) that glimmered faintly in the light. For a moment, the crowd was silent, uncertain what to expect.

Without warning, the boy leaped.

The gasp from the audience was audible as the kid— Arach-Kid?— launched himself into a dramatic triple flip, his body twisting gracefully through the air before he caught the trapeze with flawless precision. The crowd erupted into applause, the energy in the tent shifting instantly.

He didn’t stop there. Swinging with a force that sent his trapeze soaring higher than any of the others had dared, he released at the peak of his arc and spun into a double somersault. Instead of catching the next trapeze, he landed neatly in the arms of one of the adult performers, who looked genuinely startled by the boy’s precision. He grinned, waving excitedly at the audience as they roared with applause. 

From there, the routine transformed. Arach-Kid became the centerpiece of the act, seamlessly incorporating daring flips, twists, and transitions between trapezes. He was passed between the adults with perfect timing, their previous mediocrity eclipsed by his sheer skill and energy.

“Whoa,” Duke murmured, leaning forward in his seat. “He’s... good.”

“Who is that kid?” Tim asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“Better than the rest of them combined,” Damian said bluntly, though his tone carried the faintest hint of approval.

The boy ended his routine with a jaw-dropping quadruple somersault, catching the final trapeze one-handed and hanging upside down with effortless control. Gasps and cheers erupted from the audience, their applause thunderous as he let himself swing for a moment, letting the crowd bask in his daring. Then, with a fluid motion, he swung back, releasing the trapeze bar for one final flourish.

Dick leaned forward, his breath catching as the kid’s body twisted into the unmistakable maneuver— the signature move of the Flying Graysons.

The crowd roared as he executed the technique perfectly, his form flawless, his timing impeccable. He landed with a clean dismount, arms raised triumphantly, and offered the crowd a playful bow before darting off to the wings. Even with the stage empty, shouts and applause echoed for a long time after the boy left. 

For a moment, Dick couldn’t move. His stomach churned as memories of his parents on that same trapeze flooded his mind. No one else knew that move. No one could. His parents had created it, and Dick had learned it from them. It was their legacy— his legacy.

So how, in the name of all that made sense, did this random kid just pull it off perfectly?

The lights shifted again, smoothly transitioning to the next act: a somewhat clumsy but undeniably entertaining tightrope routine. One performer started with a wobbling walk, arms flailing for comedic effect. Another joined, balancing precariously with a broomstick for support. The final performer added a unicycle to the mix, pedaling shakily across the thin wire as the audience laughed and clapped in delight.

It was… objectively funny.

But Dick barely noticed. His good mood had evaporated, replaced by a heavy knot of unease in his chest. At this point, they must have a hive mind with how they immediately filed out of the tent without a single word exchanged. 

“That was—” Tim started, breaking the tense silence.

“Dick,” Steph interrupted, her voice low, “did he just—?”

“That was your move,” Tim finished firmly, his eyes locked on Dick’s.

“It’s not possible,” Duke added, glancing at the now-empty trapeze rig. “Right? It’s your family’s thing. There’s no way some random kid from Gotham knows it.”

“I am more concerned with how he knows it,” Damian said, his voice cutting. His eyes darted to Dick. “This is your domain, Richard. You must have answers.”

Dick didn’t respond right away. He couldn’t. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his breathing shallow. In disbelief, he muttered, “I don’t.”

Steph frowned. “Okay, well... what do we do? Do we just ignore the fact that some kid pulled off your impossible secret family move?”

“No,” Dick said sharply, his voice colder than any of them expected. “We don’t ignore it. We find out who he is, how he learned it, and what the hell is going on.”

Tim’s brow furrowed. “Do you think someone’s trying to get your attention? Like, deliberately?”

Dick shook his head, though his face betrayed his uncertainty. “I don’t know. Maybe. I mean, it’s... it’s possible, but...” He exhaled through his nose, frustrated. “I need answers. This isn’t something you just pick up on YouTube.”

The group left the small but packed circus, their earlier excitement replaced by a shared tension. The cool night air did little to clear their heads as they walked in a tight huddle, glancing over their shoulders as if the boy would materialize out of the crowd.

“Something’s not right,” Tim said, breaking the silence.

“Obviously,” Damian muttered.

“I mean it,” Tim snapped. “Moves like that— you don’t just do them. It takes years to learn without a teacher.” He glanced at Dick. “You’re sure no one outside your family knew it? Like, absolutely sure?”

“Positive,” Dick said firmly. “The only people who knew it are gone. Except me.” His voice dropped as he added, “Or at least, they’re supposed to be.”

The group exchanged uneasy looks, about both the situation and Dick’s reaction to it. It takes quite a bit to rattle him, so to see him, well, rattled was weird. Beyond weird. It was downright wrong. 

“Either way,” Duke said cautiously, “we’re going to figure this out. Right?”

“Oh, we will,” Dick said, his voice grim. “We don’t leave things like this unanswered.”

As they disappeared into the Gotham night, paranoia settled over them like a second skin. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t going to stay a mystery for long. 

[0wldn0]

Aww I love the bumblebee/Optimus father-son duo! It’d be really funny if like if the autobots and the suctions had a family dinner, considering your last Breakbee post was breakdown trying to convince bumblebee to meet his family ! Just a thought! Love the art 💕✨✨

BAHAHA OMGG I love the idea of the Earth team all having a family dinner together!! Maltos, Autobots and the Stunticons 😭💕💖Imagine Breakdown convinces his side of the family and Bee convinces his side to make it happen...

I can totally see OP giving Breakdown nasty looks the whole time though 😶 He always supports Bee's choices, but this time, he does NOT approve FDHDFH

It's okay, Motormaster will talk some sense into him. "I understand the yellow one is like your child but those are two whole adults leave them alone thank you."

[novacqnes]

✩ nights like this // sevika

⋆ summary: no coherent thoughts…just stressed councilmember!sevika coming home to you after a rough day.

⋆ warnings: a shit ton of sappiness & fluff, reader loving on sevika

⋆ pairing: sevika x fem reader

⋆ word count: 1.3k

embers of scarlet and coral smacked against the screen of the fireplace, silently stirring sevika from a trance. her head pounded against her skull, locking the rest of her body into place. now this sofa, cheaply made of leather and nylon, was her only comfort. fragments of light reflected off the glass windows, briefly illuminating the door right across from her. in its midst she could single out a you-shaped figure leaning against the doorway. small crescents adorned your eyes as you rubbed away the fatigue in them.

“come to bed,” you whispered, trudging towards her. you hit the sofa with a soft thud, pressing a light kiss to sevika’s soft lips.

she let out a low groan, snaking an arm around your waist, “not yet, go on without me.”

you nibbled on your lower lip, tilting your head to the side as you inspected sevika’s face. her features were tense, eyebrows drawn together with sharp, pensive lines decorating the space between them. her legs were fixed into the ground, boots still on, which was completely uncharacteristic of sevika. for a brief moment, her hazy grey eyes struck yours, they were gentle and radiant. it always amazed you just how hypnotic they could be. they revealed everything about this woman, but this time they weren’t brimming with intense sexual desire but a fervent need for comfort. 

“that bad?”

she shrugged, “something like that.” you waited for her to say more, but nothing else came. rather, you were greeted by an uncomfortable silence and the impossible task of trying to read her mind. her eyes flickered between the fire and your eyes, calling, screaming, pleading out to you so that there was no need for words. sevika’s body was rigid against yours; she looked as if she’d crawl from her own skin and right into the sofa. she detested this feeling. you couldn’t know. you couldn’t see. she needed to protect you. that’s what she told herself as images of the council and their disapproving glares riddled her mind. deeper and deeper, she became trapped within her own mind, leaving you with no option but to intervene. 

she felt your hands on her thighs first, slowly traveling down to her calves before reaching her boots. 

“let’s take these off,” you cooed. 

you started at the dark laces, pulling each one through the silver loops that decorated the sides. once this was done, you tugged them off sevika’s legs, exposing her fluffy rainbow socks. your lips perked up into a smile as your girlfriend quickly looked away, fighting to keep a straight face. it was progress, although you could see that she wasn’t fully comfortable, so you kept at it moving behind her.

you reached for her cloak, peering down at her for approval. “this okay?”

“mhmm….” sevika nodded, sinking further into the couch. she closed her eyes, humming lowly as the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly began to rise. sevika’s skin burned with each slight touch of your hands against her body. warm and hot with determination, you ran them across her smooth skin, moving to undress her in one quick beat. with the cloak tossed to the side, you peeled off her vest, shirt, and bra, leaving her exposed before you. you ran your palms over her sculpted chest, feeling the muscles tense underneath you.

“you’re with me, relax baby.”

she sighed, “i’m trying….i just hate bringing this shit home to you.”

you brought your hands to her face, rubbing your thumb along the scarred skin of her cheek. her eyes were reluctant at first, but you continued with a soft tone emanating from your voice, “look at me sevika, i’m okay. just let me take care of you.”

you moved the dark strands of hair from her face, eager to meet her eye. they were gorgeous. half-lidded and heavy, they were trained on your face, unwavering in spite of the fatigue that pulled on them. it was like a silent battle, a fight that you only saw slight glimpses of before, but sevika’s mask was cracking. in piltover she was utterly alone, and the mere thought of her shouldering that burden chewed at your soul. thus you moved your hands to sevika’s shoulders, desperate to be the support that she needed. once more you looked at her face for a response. silently she nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your jaw before leaning back. 

time slipped by as you undressed her, softly massaging her skin, freeing her from the strain that tore through her body. slowly her features grew more relaxed, shooting you small grins every once in a while as you worked. from the corner of your eyes, a bright halo and its golden rays peeked into your home through the window. half of the living room was illuminated with a faint yellow glow, making visible the antique table in the center of the room and the rest of sevika’s body.

“how’s this?” you hummed, massaging out the kinks in her neck.

she slurred, “perfect…i swear if i have to hear the word contingency agai—“ 

“you’re doing the best you can.”

sevika shook her head as you removed your hands from her shoulders. “it’s not enough. y/n you should see the look on some of their faces; it’s like they don’t even see me.” hurt, frustration, and anger, it spilled from her in one stifled breath. you moved swiftly to her side, cupping her hand in yours. the two of you sat in silence, caught in the sun’s warmth. 

“sev,” you began, “you’re one person, you can’t put that on yourself.”

“i have too,” she whispered, her voice small. sevika’s eyes stung, they begged her to close them and stumble into your bed, but her mind argued the opposite. doubt crept to the forefront of her brain, pervading her perceptions of herself. was she strong enough to do this? could she be enough for you? in the midst of the murky clouds there was no definite answer, and that tormented sevika beyond belief. she’d stayed up for hours, the allure of sleep looming over her as she clawed for an answer, desperately seeking it in the form of solitude.

“i’ll go with you to piltover.” 

her eyes widened, a sheepish grin taking hold of her face as sevika brought a hand to her mouth, “oh, you wouldn’t last a second.”

“what?” you sputtered, playfully smacking her hand away. “i’ll go everyday if i have too…i hate sleeping by myself.” 

she let out a low chuckle, snapping her neck towards the sunrise, taking in the bright, soft pink and yellow hues that fully lit up the room. sevika looked back towards you, her heart beaming with an intense longing and love for the person before her. she adored the way the colors merged with your skin, basking you in a warm glow of sunlight. it captured your beauty like no other, making your girlfriend fall even deeper for you. bare and exhausted, sevika yearned to pull you close. she wanted to feel your skin hot against hers as you floated into a deep slumber, fleeing the world and its worries for just a moment. this was her answer. 

“i love you so fucking much.”

“do you?” you teased, leaning in to place delicate kisses to the underside of her chin.

she nodded, “yeah baby, i do.”

you moved to her ear, allowing your breath to lightly tickle the sensitive skin, “then you know that you don’t owe anyone anything. not those council members. not even us zaunites. you can walk away, and i will love you all the same. i just want you happy.”

“this makes me happy,” sevika smiled, rising from the couch before quickly scooping you up in her arms. 

“good, let’s go to bed.”

[x-monochrome-x]

tiny daisuke. thoughts?

hes already so young and impressionable its so easy to manipulate him at this size bro (ft: jimmy being terrible and evil once more)

[egophiliac]

What do you like about the Diasomnia boys if I may ask?

I always love hearing about the different reasons people enjoy characters.

I mean, c'mon. he has split custody over Sebek okay

also, Lilia in particular has maybe the best timeskip character development of all time

[mandalhoerian]

I want to pick your brain more about Caleb being the livestock guardian and the wolf at the same time. That part haunts me. Canine imagery for him >>>

That contradiction — the livestock guardian and the wolf — is at the very heart of Caleb. Emphasizing his duality aside, it’s a paradox that exists within him, one that he’s aware of, one that he chooses to live with rather than resolve. Because at his core, he is both the devoted protector and the ravenous beast, and both of them love you. Both of them serve you, in their own way.

The livestock guardian dog is bred to protect the flock, to dedicate its life to something weaker, something soft. It stands between the sheep and the wolves, fangs bared, willing to die for the creatures that will never understand what it’s doing for them. It is gentle with them, careful, soft-mouthed, lowering itself to their level so they will trust it. Do not fear me. I am here for you.

He was raised to be good, to be devoted, to be steadfast. A creature made to guard, to serve, to dedicate himself to something more important than his own desires. A dog trained to protect the flock, to live among the sheep, to love them with a quiet, patient devotion. His purpose has always been clear: keep you safe. Keep you fed. Keep you warm. The world is full of danger, full of wolves with their snapping jaws and greedy eyes, and it is his duty to keep them at bay.

He is yours. He always has been. If you told him to sit, he would. If you told him to stay, he wouldn’t move from that spot until his body gave out. If you told him to die for you, he would do it without hesitation. And he doesn’t think of this as a burden — it’s his purpose. He finds fulfillment in it, in watching over you, in being something you trust. You call his name, and he comes to you. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he stays still so you won’t move away. You let him linger close, let him take care of you, and it is enough. It has to be enough.

But a guardian dog is still a dog. Still a thing with instincts, still a thing that can be pushed. If the sheep do not trust it, if the shepherd does not guide it, if it is alone too long — if it's left hungry for too long, if it's is abandoned, if it loses the reason — then something inside it shifts. It begins to realize that it does not need a flock. That it has teeth for a reason. And then, with time, with neglect, with just the right set of circumstances—

The guardian turns feral. The thing that once protected the sheep remembers that it is, at its core, an animal with hunger, with wants, and it turns on the very things it swore to protect.

Caleb is the dog that never turned. He is the one that still guards you, still waits at your side, still lives with his body between you and the world, because that is what he chooses. But—

There is a wolf inside him. He wasn't born tame. This is the reason why you think he's changed.

It is not a corruption, not a failing, not a sickness. It is simply there, as much a part of him as the loyalty, as the tenderness, as the quiet way he looks at you like you are something holy. The wolf is not cruel. It is not mindless. It does not wish to harm. But it wants.

You have never had to see it because he never let you — but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there. You think his hands were made to shield, to soothe, but that is only because he has never let you see the way they were also made to hold, to grip, to take.

He is the thing in the woods. The thing that lingers just beyond the firelight, just past the safe glow of home. He is the thing that wants to rip and tear, but not to destroy — not to kill. No, that would be too easy. He does not want to ruin you. He wants you to remain by his side forever.

And he knows that if he ever so much as breathes wrong, if he ever lets you see the way he looks at you when your back is turned, you would run.

So he stays where you left him. He plays the part he always has. The good boy. The guardian. The one you trust.

But when you press your cheek against his shoulder and sigh, when you curl your fingers around his wrist without thinking, when you whisper his name in the dark, he knows. He knows.

You do not understand what it means to press yourself into the waiting jaws of something that would never bite you but still wants to.

You do not understand that when you lean into him, when you trust him, you are feeding the very thing he is trying to starve.

And the thing is — both the dog and the wolf want the same thing.

To have you.

The dog wants to guard you, to protect you, to keep you safe in the way that all guardians do — by being a silent, unseen force, by waiting in the shadows, by letting you feel free while ensuring you never truly are. It does not control you. It does not take. It is patient, gentle, enduring. But it belongs to you so entirely, so thoroughly, that if you asked it to die for you, it wouldn’t hesitate.

The wolf? The wolf does not beg. The wolf does not ask permission. The wolf sees what it wants and takes it. The wolf does not serve, it claims. It sees you as something that belongs to it — not because it is entitled, not because it is cruel, but because it loves you the way hunger loves flesh. Because the wolf understands something the dog does not:

The only way to truly keep something is to consume it. To take it into yourself so fully that it can never be separate from you again.

But Caleb — Caleb — is the bridge between them. He has the wolf’s instincts and the dog’s discipline. The dog will heel when you tell it to, the wolf will wait because it chooses to, and Caleb is both. It would be easier if these two things were separate, if they hated each other, if they battled for control inside of him. But they don’t. They exist in harmony. They want the same thing.

The livestock guardian watches over you, protects you, ensures that no one lays a hand on you. The wolf ensures that no one takes you away, not even yourself.

The livestock guardian follows you, obeys you, kneels at your feet. The wolf is the reason he wants to.

The livestock guardian loves you. The wolf does, too. But love — real love — is not just something that gives. It is something that takes.

And you know what?

You never had a choice in the matter.

Not because he took that choice from you. Not because he forced you into anything.

But because, from the very beginning, from the moment you met him, before you even understood what he was—

You made him yours.