#like if I spend that (in addition to the fact that I think I need to take a winter course) I won't be able to afford my last year

[emometalhead]

Why is college so expensive? 😭😭

[artbyblastweave]

Playing through Fallout:New Vegas for the first time in years. And I'm developing a newfound appreciation for the damage done to the intended pacing of the narrative with the addition of the Courier's Stash. I wake up in Goodsprings, and as part of the extended tutorial you have Ghosttown Gunfight, the fairly self-contained faction war between Goodsprings and the Powder Gangers. And the design intent, I think, is that this is probably supposed to be a pain in the ass, with only one or two avenues of support available to you given the low level at which you'll pick this one up. Six Powder Gangers, some in body-armor, would be a serious threat, and committing to fighting against that with your dinky 9mm and a varmint rifle seems like a rough time! An actual uphill battle, doing the right thing instead of the easy thing. Fortunately, Benny inexplicably left my handy 40mm grenade launcher in the grave with me, so I cleaned up.

I'm working my way south, and, you know, in a version of the game where Benny didn't inexplicably leave my handy 40mm grenade launcher in the grave with me, this would have been the knock-on effect of my "good" Karmic choice in defending Goodsprings; the road south is littered with powder gangers who'd have been neutral had I not kicked the hornet's nest. As it stands? Free experience. I hit Primm, and fighting through the cramped hallways of the Bison Steve I encounter an enemy armed with what was clearly supposed to be the first heavy weapon I'd encounter in the world. Tight Corridors. Inexplicable Grenade Launcher. I clean up. South I go to the Mojave outpost, Nipton, that whole thing. And clearly, clearly you aren't meant to take a swing at Vulpes here, right? You're supposed to take it in, get a sense for the legion. In the version of the game that shipped you're supposed to get bodied if you try to kick the beef gate here. There are allowances in the game for if you pull it off, sure, but I did try with just the service rifle, without the glorious first-strike capabilities afforded to me by the 40mm grenade launcher that Benny inexplicably left in the grave with me. It didn't go very well!

So now I'm dogged by Legion hit squads on my way to Novac, which I get the distinct impression was not the point in the game at which this was supposed to start happening to me, because I am gathering up some pretty expensive equipment, all sold for space. I punch through to Vegas, and at this stage, the clear developer intent is that you need to spend some time milling around Freeside or Camp McCarran in order to gain access to the Strip- do odd jobs to scrape up the money, buy the forgery from Mick and Ralphs, gain monorail access, get your science skill high enough to hack the robot. Get the lay of the land, get a feel for the people, send some time stewing in the human cost of House's walled garden before you head in and hear the pitch from the big man himself.

Except I've got 5000 caps from selling off all the legion killteam equipment. In I go!

And the fun thing is, right, the Courier's stash can't be diegetic, but it is having a very direct impact on the world here. A top legion guy just went down to my inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher. Whatever else I'm roleplaying as, I am roleplaying as a guy who woke up in the possession of an inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher, and neither I nor my character can plausibly ignore that fact given its terrible bloodstained utility. I play a man, a man who would be a good man, a man nonetheless bewitched by the terrible resolutory power of the grenade launcher. My best friend, the inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher! My worst enemy, the inexplicable 40mm grenade launcher!

[gremlingottoosilly]

thinking about konig asking to eat you out and you being like “lol no i’m on my period.” and he’s all “ohhhh idc idc i wanna eat it so bad 🥺” and you need to be like no. buddy. you clearly do not get it. i am not a 2-3 day period, “who needs pads i’ll just freebleed” girlie. i am a 7-8 day, heavy flow, bleed through the pad girlie, lmfao.

and then he eats it anyways because not only has he been around so much more blood than you could ever imagine but also he’s lowkey highkey into it teeeheeeeeeee ;P

"Schatzen, I kill people for money. You really think I'm scared of a little blood?" You wasn't nervous of the fact he wasn't scared of a bit of blood - even though it was not, in fact, just a little. Even though it was, in fact, a lot and made you ask him to bring you newer pads. You didn't really think he would be scared of a bit of period blood - but you were fucking terrified at the fact that he seemed to adore it. To cherish every drop, till the last one - to press his face between your thighs and look at you like a kitten who wants a bit of cream. The thing is, Konig missed you. Returning from a two month contract only meant he was ready to destroy your pelvis and fuck you for every hour he is on leave - unfortunately, he can't quite do that, you're too fragile to take his cock four times per day...but you can take his tongue. Even if that means having the metallic taste cling to his tongue for days on end, he would gladly spend the whole week buried in your cunt, relishing in your taste. It's a nice way to deal with cramps, he might think. Konig literally read one article about how orgasms can sometimes help some people with their cramps, and he'd use this for the rest of his life. Oh, your stomach is hurting and you feel like your womb is trying to eat you from the inside? Just let him eat you out! No matter how many times you push him away and beg for him to stop, he'd still laugh and push his tongue deeper, over and over. He is a mercenary, he is getting paid tons of money to cover himself in blood of his victims - having his pretty girlfriend cry and cum on his tongue is a nice addition. You don't even question it when he starts to track your periods, knowing you'd have it even when you forget - you don't question the dates he literally keeps posted on your shared calendar, don't care that the amount of heating pads in the house had largely diminished - and he won't buy you a new one because he is much better at being a heating pad anyway!

[pomefioredove]

having a crush on you

summary: how they would act having a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: pomefiore (vil, rook, epel) additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, not proofread, hi I'm insane and I love pining, I NEED to write another fic but with rook. might write this same prompt with other dorms

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

don't take his calm and collected facade as apathy

he's slowly losing his mind about this

"pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, falling asleep thinking about you" kind of losing his mind

it's my personal belief that Vil hasn't been in love before this

hasn't even really thought about it

so when you enter the picture it kinda throws him off balance

and with the exception of Rook, no one can even tell

he is an actor, after all, he can play the part of "totally platonic friends with room for Jesus"

(maybe a little too well)

but Vil isn't entirely emotionally repressed

he keeps things to himself, yes, but he's quite conscious of his own wants and needs

so when he realizes he's been craving your presence more than usual he does acknowledge it

in his head

and then does nothing about it for months

...what? he's busy

things like this can wait for him, and he doesn't want to put a rift between you two in case it might be a passing feeling

well... it doesn't pass

he becomes keenly aware of how much he wants you around him, how much he thinks about you, how much your very presence is enough to make him happier than he's ever... really felt

and you know what?

he is totally cool about it.

just kidding. he drives himself insane trying to think of the perfect way to confess, something that will impress you and meet his standards

he's dropping hints left and right and you don't seem to be picking any of them up

which again, just makes him crazy

(some days he really wants to ask you how oblivious one person can be, but he restrains himself)

I mean, how many times can he send you red tulips before you finally get the hint? he's practically spelling it out for you!

there is... a tiny, little part of him that worries you don't reciprocate

is he not your type? are you interested in someone else? perhaps he'd been too harsh on you, after all...

the fact that one little potato can make him so worried absolutely drives him mad

he is the vision of poise and grace and you are ruining him

and this sort of mood comes and goes in waves

just when he thinks he's pulled himself back together, you'll smile at him or say something cute and suddenly he's back to square one

(you're so adorable it's annoying -_-)

while he's sorting out a good way to express his feelings properly, he'll be spending all his free time with you

you need some new things? he'll be glad to take you shopping

you came over to see Epel? oh, well, he's not here, but you should stay for some tea, anyway!

your afternoon is free? he has some new lip gloss he's been dying to test out...

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

contrary to popular belief, I don't think Rook would be so open about it

he still compliments you, of course, and sings praises of your beauty and elegance, and has little regard for personal space, as always

but he's like that with a lot of people, so it's hard to really tell when he likes someone

the truth of the matter is that Rook Hunt can be just as reserved with his feelings as anyone else

when he really, really likes someone, he keeps it to himself

why?

he's hunting you he's learning more about you before making his true feelings known

he feels it's necessary to have an adequate amount of information on his target before making a move, after all

for reference: you catch his eye at orientation, and do not have a single conversation with him until after winter break

(of course, after that, you start mysteriously running into him everywhere)

is he kinda weird about it? uh. yeah.

this is Rook we're talking about

on the other hand, he's completely lovesick about you and it's almost cute

he's definitely the type to write your initials in a journal with a glitter pen while kicking his feet back and forth and giggling

seeing if you would sound better with his last name or he with yours...

definitely has a very weird photo collection of you somewhere in his room

along with stacks of poems, pressed flowers, and little gifts he intends to give you once he's won you over

(when, not if. Rook is nothing if not patient)

you may find a rose left outside Ramshackle every so often

or a few cans of tuna for Grim

all while acting like the same old eccentric Rook, no discernable difference

except when you can feel his eyes on you at random places in the middle of the day

Ace and Deuce call you paranoid but you can't shake the feeling

though, every once in a while he'll get a little grumpy

Rook is easily jealous, and while that sort of possessiveness never extended to untouchable idols like Vil and Neige, he's already decided that you're his prey

and he'd kindly ask everyone else to find their own, thank you

he hasn't exactly planned the confession yet, but just know it's probably going to be the sweetest and craziest you've ever heard

𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫

first of all he's going to fight you for making him like you so much

second of all he's going to beg for a chance

maybe not in that exact order

Epel is constantly at war with his own emotions and having romance thrown in the mix is. uh. not optimal

not only does it ruin the stoic, strong male persona he's been trying to build, but it's also making him feel all soft and gushy

suddenly he cares about looking nice

(much to Vil's approval)

and now he wants to do nice things for you?

he's gonna bite you

how dare you make him think about kissing and holding hands!

don't you know he's supposed to be above all this romantic stuff? what is he, Rook?!

then, after his initial temper tantrum, he starts coping. hard.

he might be able to stomach the idea of being an item if he gets to wear the pants in the relationship

...yeah, right? right.

if you let him be the man, if you let him protect you...

he might be okay with it!

obviously he starts trying to show off his manly strength (seriously) every time he sees you

starts making comments about how tough practice was on him

will literally never let anyone else carry anything for you ever again

he even provides for you (in payments of apple juice)

obviously this backfires 'cause the second you do something that gives him butterflies he's back to giggling

(you'll have to ease him into the idea of being soft and romantic together, but he'll get there)

but, to his credit, he'd be the first out of all the above to confess

super suddenly and out of nowhere (and he ends up shouting it cause he didn't want to sound chicken) but it's sweet in its own way

[deerlino]

Hey hey hey

Can i please request producer!grumpy! Chan x producer! Sunshine! Reader? Enemies-to-lovers?? Like chan has a bad first impression on reader and doesn't like her but like they get put together for work and he falls in love?? Can you make it really fluffy and domestic at the end (like they're in a r/s and like they kiss and cuddle alot????)

thawing the ice.

bang chan x fem!reader / at first, chan really didn’t like you and had a bad first impression of you. but then, you got teamed up for a project. spending time together changed everything, and he found himself falling for you.

additional tags / grumpy producer chan x sunshine producer reader (i mean… i tried. 😭), fluff, domestic fluff, forced proximity, mutual pining, workplace romance, love confessions, love-hate relationship, dislike to lovers — 1.5k words in total.

content warnings / kisses, smooches, and cuddles

authors notes @ anon / hey heyo anon <3, thanks for the awesome request! loved writing this. you asked for enemies to lovers, but the enemies part kinda fizzled out while i was writing—not my strongest trope, lol 😭 still, hope you enjoy it !! <3

You glance at your watch, groaning internally. It’s barely eight in the morning and you’re already heading to the studio for another day of work. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the fact that you were going to be working closely with Chan. Again.

It’s not that you dislike Chan. Honestly, how could you? He’s talented, driven, and ridiculously handsome. But from the moment you met him, he’s been nothing but cold and dismissive. It’s like he’s made it his mission to make your life difficult.

As you walk into the studio, you see him already there, his back to you as he fiddles with some equipment. You take a deep breath, plastering a smile on your face. “Morning, Chan!”

He doesn’t turn around. “Morning.”

You suppress a sigh. Another day, another brush-off.

You set your bag down and get to work, trying to ignore the icy atmosphere. The day drags on, the silence between you both filled with nothing but the hum of electronics and the occasional muttered curse from Chan.

Finally, after what feels like hours, you manage to get him to talk. “Hey, Chan, can you listen to this track? I think it needs something, but I can’t figure out what.”

He looks up, eyebrows raised. “You want my opinion?”

“Uh, yeah. You’re one of the best producers here,” you say, trying not to sound too sarcastic. He might be a jerk, but you still need his input.

He listens to the track, his expression unreadable. “It needs more bass. And the vocals are too soft. They need to be more upfront.”

You nod, making notes. “Got it. Thanks.”

The rest of the day goes by in much the same way, but you notice something strange. Every time you ask for his help, he gives it without complaint. And every now and then, you catch him watching you, a strange look in his eyes.

***

As the weeks go by, things start to change. It’s subtle at first. He starts offering his help without being asked. He brings you coffee in the mornings, saying it’s just because he’s getting one for himself anyway. He even starts making small talk.

One day, as you’re both working late, he surprises you. “Hey, do you want to grab some dinner after this?”

You blink, taken aback. “Uh, sure. That sounds great!”

You end up at a little diner, talking and laughing like old friends. It’s the first time you’ve seen him genuinely smile, and it takes your breath away.

“You know,” he says, looking down at his plate, “I don’t actually hate you.”

You laugh, but it’s a little shaky. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He looks up, his eyes serious. “I’m... I’m not good at this. At feelings. I’ve liked you since the day we met, but I didn’t know how to act around you. I thought being distant would make it easier.”

Your heart skips a beat. “You like me?”

He nods, looking almost shy. “Yeah. A lot.”

You reach across the table, taking his hand. “I like you too, Chan. A lot.”

***

From that night on, things change even more. You’re not just coworkers anymore. You’re friends. And, slowly, you become something more.

There are late nights at the studio where he pulls you into his lap, kissing you softly as you work.

It’s nearly midnight, and you and Chan are the only ones left in the studio. The room is dimly lit, the glow from the computer screens casting a soft light over everything. You’re both exhausted, but there’s still work to be done. You’re hunched over your laptop, tweaking some last-minute details on a track, when you feel his presence behind you.

“Hey, take a break,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky from hours of talking and singing.

“I just need to finish this part,” you reply, not looking up. “Almost done.”

He sighs, but there’s a smile in his voice. “Alright, Miss Perfectionist.”

You hear him move around, and then suddenly, you’re being lifted out of your chair. “Chan!” you yelp, but he just laughs, pulling you into his lap as he sits back down.

“Relax,” he says, his arms wrapping around you. “You’ve been working too hard.”

You lean back against him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours. “I just want everything to be perfect.”

“I know,” he says, his lips brushing against your ear. “But you need to take care of yourself too.”

You tilt your head, looking up at him. “And what about you? You’ve been working just as hard.”

He grins, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I’m taking care of myself right now.”

You smile, your heart fluttering. “Okay, fine. Five-minute break.”

“Good,” he says, his lips trailing down your neck. “Because I need more of this.”

You close your eyes, losing yourself in the feeling of his lips on your skin, the warmth of his arms around you. In that moment, all the stress and exhaustion melts away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in each other.

Then, there are lazy Sundays spent cuddling on the couch, watching movies and stealing kisses.

It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you’re both sprawled on the couch, watching a movie. Chan’s arm is draped over your shoulders, and your head rests against his chest. The movie is some cheesy rom-com, but neither of you are really paying attention. You’re too busy stealing kisses and laughing at each other’s jokes.

“Hey, pay attention,” you say, swatting his hand away as he tries to tickle you. “This is the best part.”

“Oh, really?” he teases, his fingers brushing against your side again. “What happens?”

You laugh, trying to squirm away. “Stop! You’ll see.”

He grins, finally relenting. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.”

You settle back against him, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek. It’s moments like this that make everything worth it. The late nights, the long hours, all of it. Because at the end of the day, you have this. You have him.

“You know,” he says suddenly, his voice soft, “I could get used to this.”

You look up at him, surprised. “What, lazy Sundays?”

He shakes his head, his eyes serious. “No. Us. Being together like this.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Me too.”

He smiles, leaning down to kiss you. It’s slow and sweet, full of all the things he can’t put into words. And you know, without a doubt, that you feel the same way.

Then, there are also mornings where you wake up tangled together, his arms around you and his breath warm against your neck.

The first rays of sunlight are just starting to filter through the curtains when you wake up. You’re tangled in the sheets, Chan’s arm draped over your waist, his breath warm against your neck. You can feel his chest rise and fall with each breath, his body a comforting weight against yours.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to see his face. He looks so peaceful, so different from the grumpy, guarded man you met months ago. You reach up, brushing a strand of hair away from his face, and he stirs, his eyes slowly opening.

“Morning,” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

“Morning,” you reply, smiling. “Sleep well?”

He nods, pulling you closer. “Always do when you’re here.”

You feel your heart swell at his words. “You’re sweet, you know that?”

He chuckles, his lips brushing against your shoulder. “Only for you.”

You laugh, rolling over to face him. “Lucky me.”

“Yeah,” he says, his eyes soft as they meet yours. “Lucky me.”

You lean in, kissing him softly. It’s a slow, lingering kiss, the kind that makes you feel like you’re the only two people in the world. When you finally pull away, you rest your forehead against his, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

“I love you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

You smile, your heart feeling like it might burst. “I love you too.”

And as you lie there, wrapped up in each other, you know that this is where you’re meant to be. With him. Always.

***

One evening, as you’re sitting on a bench at the park together, he turns to you, his expression serious. “You know, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. You make me want to be better. For you.”

You smile, your heart swelling. “You already are, Chan. You always have been.”

He kisses you, and it’s slow and sweet, full of all the things he’s never been able to say. And you know, without a doubt, that he loves you.

As the months go by, you can see the change in him. He’s still grumpy and a little rough around the edges, but there’s a softness to him now, a warmth that wasn’t there before. And you know that, no matter what, you’ll always have each other.

One night, as you’re both lying in bed, you turn to him, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “Hey, Chan?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad we ended up working together. Even if you were a jerk at first.”

He chuckles, pulling you closer. “Me too. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. For being a jerk.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You’re forgiven. Just... keep being you. That’s all I need.”

And as you drift off to sleep, wrapped in his arms, you know that you’ve found something special. Something real. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

© deerlino (est. 090624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

[alithographica]

As promised, welcome to

Fun biology in TOTK’s designs

I'll keep this post updated as I go through the game. I'm going to skip the more general identifiable things like apples (they're based on apples!) because there are tons of more unusual species to talk about.

Overall, the really interesting thing I've noticed is that many of the more unique Earth-based lifeforms in TOTK are super ancient, like predating dinosaurs ancient, which is a really cool tie-in to the overall time-hopping plotline of TOTK. Specifically, they're found in the new areas (caves, depths) while the surface remains a bit more normal.

(There will be no plot spoilers in this post, and also I've barely gotten into the plot because I'm spending all my time wandering, so shhh no spoilers in the tags for like a month please.)

Most recent additions: More lilies, irises, wild ginger, spiny bones, pigeon extravaganza, plus added some more real photo comparisons to old stuff.

PLANTS

Bryophytes my beloved. Bryophytes are among the earliest land plants, waaaay predating flowers and even seeds. In our world, they’re small by necessity—they lack vascular systems to help move water around like other plants, so they have to stay small and moist (hence their frequency in caves in TOTK—though they do need some light in real life.)

In TOTK they’re quite large and I think that’s very sexy and art directors should give us big bryophytes more often

Anyway, there are three types of bryophytes: mosses, liverworts, and hornworts. First image pair is a moss, second is a liverwort. Those red-brown and palm-tree-like structures, respectively, are their reproductive structures.

Real liverwort photo © Graham Calow, NatureSpotUK

Not yet spotted: Hornworts! Did they forget the third bryophyte sister :(

I think these next guys are probably lycopods (specifically club moss, which is not a true bryophyte moss, thanks science.) Very old, but vascular, so they're a bit more evolutionarily recent than bryophytes.

Real photo © Gloria Hanley Schoenholtz, virginiawildflowers

All the enormous curly-topped trees in the depths: Ferns! They curl like that until they unfurl. Another very old plant, though younger than bryophytes and lycopods.

Real photo via The Cosmonaut, Wikipedia

Brightblooms and some of the other giant plants in the depths: Possibly based on a cycad? Again, a very ancient plant lineage. At this point, evolutionarily, they've developed seeds—that giant cone in the center is called a strobilus, and that's the seed structure.

These next few plants are angiosperms, meaning they produce flowers. Angiosperms are a more recent evolutionary lineage—still many millions of years old, but it took a while to develop flowers as a reproductive tactic.

Sundelions (left) are a fun recolor of a lily. There are also some scenery lilies (right) in various places—there are yellow ones that spring up when you turn on a lightroot (which gives them literal and thematic connection to the surface) and several other varieties, including tiger lilies, throughout Hyrule. Fun note, the sundelions appear to only have 5 stamen, while other lilies in the game (correctly) have 6. Seems to be an intentional decision to make it a more distinct fantasy species.

These next ones are Peruvian lilies/Alstroemeria, just used as a scenery plant but a very fun inclusion. Fun fact, not true lilies, so they're not deadly to cats like true lilies are.

Real photo © Dick Culbert, Wikipedia

Plum trees: These are also called out as plum trees in game! There's a journal in Kakariko that refers to the plum orchards.

Okay I'm a little proud of figuring this one out. Bomb flowers blend a few botanical references. Superficially, the fruit resembles a type of seed pod called a capsule—specifically it's very similar to a poppy capsule. The little red thing in the center is a nice addition to resemble both a flower stigma (reproductive part that leads to the ovary) and a bomb fuse. Now, poppy capsules disperse their seeds via wind, but there are other plants who do explode their seeds outwards as a dispersal tactic! This is called explosive dehiscence.

There is one tree in particular called the sandbox tree, AKA monkey-no-climb or dynamite tree (yes, really.) Their capsules look more like little pumpkins, but are known for violently exploding when ripe—they can launch seeds at 150 miles per hour (250 km/h) and spread them roughly 200 feet (60 m) away. The photo comparison is a poppy capsule but you should def go look up dynamite tree videos.

Real photo © PommeGrenade, pixabay

Fire fruits (and the other elemental fruits) grow on the same generic plant that looks kind of like it has grape leaves. Fire fruits resemble a specific botanical thing too though—the black netting is a papery calyx (part of the flower) seen in a nightshade genus, Physalis (golden berries, tomatillos, etc.)

Real photo © Helene Rogers, Alamy

I think this stuff is an Asarum, AKA wild ginger. I was actually puzzling over it until I walked past some today and went HEY

Not sure of the exact species but they're very green and heart-shaped and love being dense and low to the ground.

Real photo via David Stang, Wikipedia

Irises: Love irises, one of my favorite flowers and words, very happy to see them in game.

MISCELLANEA

Cup lichen! Lichen is not a plant, but a symbiotic structure of an algae + a fungi. Cup lichen is just a type of lichen formation that has a kind of vertical cup-like structure.

Real photo via Bernard Spragg

Geology crossover! Go look carefully at some of the whiter walls in the depths—they look like they have fossils of coral and other undersea hard-structured animals in them.

ANIMALS

Sticky lizards: Based on Diplocaulus, a very early (now extinct) amphibian! Their skulls are wacky. We're not sure whether the long sides stood out separately or were smoothly connected to the body by skin flaps, but the separate arrow-like shape is the most popular rendition.

Deep firefly: Might be a stretch because it could just be a multi-winged fantasy critter, but I think the "wings" and antennae are very reminiscent of Anomalocaris, an ancient aquatic arthropod.

Update: Other folks in the notes/tags have pointed out that they're probably based on a cryptid that's especially popular in Japan: skyfish AKA rods! They show up in photos and people think they're an alien lifeform. In reality, they're an optical blur created when a lower quality video captures intermittent flaps of an insect's wings, leaving sort of a many-winged smear in the photo. Thanks to all who left info!

Little frox: Another stretch because it totally could just be a Hinox-like frog, but every time I see the little ones I can't help but think of like...Ichthyostega, Mastodonsaurus, Eryops, and other early amphibians. They were pretty hefty—little frox size or bigger—and had with little waddling legs. This is less "I think it's definitely this" and more "it makes me happy when I picture frox as primitive amphibians."

I haven't detailed many of the scenery animals around Hyrule because most are identifiable with the camera function—it'll tell you that a certain animal is a heron or porgy, for example, and those groups are real, even though the exact species is made up. But I think the pigeons are fun because they're all crested pigeons. Pink-necked green pigeons may have also been the inspiration for the color palettes on the wood and rainbow pigeons.

Both pigeon photos via JJ Harrison, Wikipedia

Spiny bones: Not a specific critter, but those spiny bones that you can find lying around Eldin Canyon are vertebrae—possibly from the same thing that left those big rib cages around? The top spike is the spinous process where muscles attach, the littler spikes on the side are the transverse and articular processes. The dark O in the center is the spinal cord.

Also I made a friend who finally recognizes my purpose in Hyrule.

That's all I've got for now! Will add more as I keep playing.

[agaypanic]

hi omg i got so excited when i saw you were doing egon spengler x reader aaaa! could you do egon and an personality opposite reader? he's all serious and deadpan while she's happy and upbeat (it'd be cool if she was the new girl in the team and had a crush on him). sort of like a "she fell first, he fell harder" situation?

The Sunlight On My Spores (Egon Spengler X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: The new addition to the ghostbuster’s team is a ray of sunshine, and she has her sights on a scientist with an interest in fungi and the supernatural.

A/N: AHHHHH ive been waiting for an egon/ghostbuster request!!! since i havent written for egon before, i hope i get his character right lol also idk shit about science/paranormal jargon. and idk if eegs is spelled the way it should but it’s pronounced ee-gs, like egon but s instead of on

***

Joining the Ghostbusters definitely brought amusement and hecticness to your daily life. Although you handled more of the office work, you had seen your fair share of the paranormal action. Namely Slimer, who would get ahold of your lunch every now and then.

Ray was the first on the team that you had met, being the one to interview you. You liked to call him ‘Sun-Ray’ for his bright and positive personality.

You were pretty much hired on the spot, mainly because Janine had been complaining about the lack of extra help. But as long as you had a steady paycheck, you didn’t mind. Ray had immediately showed you around the firehouse. You met Peter and Winston on the main floor, the former being flirtatious and the latter being more polite in his welcoming. 

Then Ray took you up to the second floor, where the dining area, sleeping quarters, and lab were.

That’s where you met Egon Spengler. His tall frame was hunched over one of the lab’s many workbenches, doing some soldering work on a proton pack.

“Spengs!” Ray said with a wide grin, bringing you over to the scientist. The man in question set down the soldering iron and straightened up, adjusting his glasses as he turned around.

“What is it, Ray?” He asked in a somewhat monotone voice. He glanced at you, furrowing his brows slightly before looking back at his friend. “Who’s this?”

“This is Y/n, our new recruit!” Ray replied enthusiastically, patting you on the shoulder. 

“Ah, so you’ve filled the new receptionist position.” He said, giving you a once-over. “Janine will be happy to hear that.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Spengler.” You greeted with a smile. He outreached his hand, which you grasped firmly and gave a few shakes. His hand was slightly calloused, probably from his work, but still felt nice.

“Egon’s fine.”

“I’ve read a few of your papers on paranormal studies; I think the whole thing’s fascinating.” 

Some of his research papers weren’t the only thing of Egon’s you’ve seen. Ever since the Ghostbusters had gained some popularity, you couldn’t help but find him quite cute, spending an extra few seconds looking at him whenever a picture of the group was in your newspaper or on your television screen. 

And he was definitely even more handsome in person.

“Well then, you’ve definitely come to the right place.” Ray grinned, but your focus was still on the spectacled man before you.

“Thank you, that’s very flattering.” Although his voice was a bit monotonous, the response was genuine. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to check on my spore samples.”

“Spore samples?” You asked with curiosity.

“Yes. I collect spores, molds, and fungus.” 

“That sounds like fun!” Egon was a bit taken aback by your response. That wasn’t a reply he was used to hearing. And the fact that you sounded genuine and peppy was even more confusing to him. 

Ray, wanting to show you the rest of the firehouse, started to pull you away. You gave a quick goodbye to Egon before bounding down the stairs after Ray. Meanwhile, Egon needed to take a second to get his befuddled thoughts straight before he could tend to his samples.

***

You fell into a routine pretty quickly. The job was mainly making appointments and ensuring the boys were ready for a call, scheduled or unexpected. Occasionally, you filed paperwork or got coffee for everyone at odd hours in the day. But because the job was shared between you and Janine, you often had at least a little bit of free time.

“Got another one!” Peter announced as he stepped out of the Ecto-1 that had just rolled into the firehouse, holding up a slightly smoking trap. As Winston and Ray emerged from the car, you wondered if Peter had been wearing a poncho because he was the only one not covered at least halfway in goo. “He was a real slimy one, too.”

“I can tell.” You laughed as Ray and Winston peeled out of their uniforms with a grimace. 

“You’re back.” Egon’s voice almost made you jump; you hadn’t realized he had come down from the lab. He walked until he was standing next to you, holding his hand out towards the ghost trap. “I’ll take that, Peter. Ray, come with me, I want to discuss the containment facility with you.”

“What about it?” Ray asked as he closed his locker. Egon brushed past you to walk down to the basement, Ray close behind.

Not wanting to be caught staring at Egon’s leaving form, you whipped back around to the car. It seemed that Winston and Ray weren’t the only ones who got slimed. Poor Ecto.

“I think I’m gonna clean the car.” You thought aloud. “You guys don’t have any more calls until tomorrow.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, Y/n,” Winston said. 

“Well, someone’s gotta do it,” Peter interjected. “We gotta ride in style, after all.”

“Really, Winston, I don’t mind.” You insisted. “I don’t have anything else to do.”

“Suit yourself.” He said with a shrug.

Patting you on the shoulder, Winston went upstairs to take a shower. While Peter hung up his jumpsuit, you looked around in a storage closet for car washing supplies.

“Y/n?” You looked towards the sound of the voice, seeing Egon peeking out of the basement entrance.

“Yeah, Eegs?”

“You, uh-” He cleared his throat, cheeks going slightly pink, and you wondered why. “You can wear my jumpsuit, if you want. So your clothes don’t get dirty.”

You grinned, straightening up from your slightly bent position. Peter raised a brow at Egon, although you couldn’t see that because you were also looking at the tall man.

“Thanks, Egon!”

He nodded once before going back downstairs, Peter hot on his tail. 

“You sweet on her or something, Spengs?” He asked quietly, not wanting to gain your attention.

“Shut up, Venkman.”

***

Music blasted as you washed the soap suds of the Ecto-1. You were pretty sure everyone was out of the building, either getting lunch or just not wanting to be in the firehouse. You had taken Egon up on his offer, his jumpsuit fitting very baggy on you. You had to roll up the sleeves and pantlegs, but you didn’t mind. Especially when seeing the patch with his last name on your chest.

Over the music and your own voice singing along to Whitney Houston, you didn’t hear Egon walking down the stairs. When he reached the bottom step, he watched as you jumped around to the beat. 

“I need a man who’ll take the chance, on a love that burns hot enough to last.” You sprayed the last of the soap off the front of the car before turning the hose off. “So when the night falls, my lonely heart calls. Ohh- Oh!” You yelped in surprise as you turned around, seeing Egon, who was still looking at you. His eyes trailed up and down your form, but it was so quick that you didn’t notice. “Hey, Eegs! I thought you’d gone out with the others.” Even after turning down the radio to hear his response, you still danced a bit. Although, your movements were a bit more subdued.

“I was up in the lab, checking on my fungi.” 

“Oh! Was the music distracting you?” You asked, already sounding apologetic. “I can keep it down if you-”

“No!” Egon answered quickly, taking the both of you by surprise. He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. “No, the music’s fine. I wanted a snack and found that we were out of Twinkies, so I was going to get some.” 

You nodded in understanding, moving to put away the car cleaning supplies that you were no longer using. And then you noticed that Egon hadn’t made any move to leave. You looked over your shoulder, seeing that he was standing in the same spot with eyes darting around the room, and turned back around to face him. You tilted your head with a questioning look.

“Would you, ahem, would you like to come with me?” He seemed a bit shy to ask, and it made you smile brightly. “Wouldn’t want to leave you here all alone and all.”

“Sure!” You answered enthusiastically. “Lemme just put all this away.” 

Without asking, Egon helped you gather everything and put it in the storage closet. You unrolled the limbs of Egon’s uniform, and he couldn’t help but admire you in his attire, despite how much the fabric consumed you. It was hung back up in his locker with care before you grabbed your purse from your desk and skipped over to him.

“Ready?” You nodded, and the two of you walked out of the firehouse. Without thinking, you looped your arm through his. But before you could pull away and apologize for not asking, he was already pulling you along the sidewalk, the tiniest hint of a smile on his serious face.

[paymechildsupport]

Teacher!Ryomen Sukuna x Sorcerer!Reader // Teacher!Sukuna HC's <3

(THIS IS NOT STUDENT X TEACHER, READER IS NOT A STUDENT!)

Personally, I think it’s an actual crime there isn’t more teacher!sukuna content out there. I’ve only ever seen one fan art of it, and ever since I’ve been scrounging around on my hands and knees to find more

So m’ gonna just do it myself 🙏 

-!! [AFAB + AMAB] READER (HC’s involving reader’s bodily autonomy have both a female and male vers. → brief smut drabble at the end)    [everyone's in on this one👏]

-!! Reader is a rather powerful sorcerer 

-!! CW: Slight possessiveness (mainly for the short smut at the end → overstimulation, dacryphilia, slight size kink(?), mention of double cocks for og form Sukuna)

-!! Veeeery slight nod to manga spoiler if you squint. If you don’t know it 99% certain you won’t pick up on it

-!! Sukuna being a bit of a softy for his SO

3k+ words

————

————

Awhile (around a good few centuries) ago, Ryomen Sukuna came to the conclusion that no, this was in fact not the way he wanted to live his life. He decided to put everything behind him; the bloodshed, the death, the massacres, and cannibalisms— (okay maybe that stayed the same)— all the things that essentially made his staple as the King of Curses. He’s a changed curse, he swears it. Honestly? Human food? Not that bad. Kinda worth changing his world view for 

With a changed work ethic, and a changed heart, Ryomen Sukuna made the conscious decision to become a teacher, — specifically a teacher in sorcery

—————-

Ryomen Sukuna works at Jujutsu Tech,-- the infamous King of Curses, who predominantly spends most of his days helping ungrateful brats obtain the necessary skills to kill his kind

→”No, you thick-skinned brat, you’re doing it all wrong!”

    “I’m sorry, Sukuna-sensei! I’m trying,--.. I really am! Could you maybe go over it one more time–”

             “No! You’re going to die all alone as your friends are tortured mercilessly!”

“How could you say that…” 🥺 

Following the fateful passing of Yuji Itadori’s grandpa, the poor kid awakened as a sorcerer with a rather nasty supply of cursed energy; a complete abnormality with an aura suspiciously like that of a certain Ryomen Sukuna… 

→ “The little brat is not living with me” 

“Awh, c’mon Sukuna-!! The kid’s a ticking time bomb to disaster, he needs help controlling his cursed energy, and who better to help than the amazing King of Curses himself!” 

“Shut up, Satoru Gojo.” 

“Ohoho~... looks like someone isn’t happy to become a single mother~~” 

“What-!? Single moth– fool, you yourself are a single mother” 

“...oh, yeah. Hehe… 😚”

“I hate it here…😒”  

Now, with the additional burden of personally attending to Yuji Itadori, there was only one thing keeping Ryomen Sukuna from completely imploding: 

You. His partner, his lover, his spouse, his anchor,-- the only source of light in his miserable, cursed life, – the sole person keeping him from reverting back to his old, murderous ways. 

Meeting a few years back, the ancient curse could’ve sworn the world got a dozen shades lighter the second his eyes landed on your form in the Tokyo crowd. Where everyone was actively moving away from his looming, intimidating hulk of a body, you looked at him with eyes void of the fear reflected off so many others. 

You approached him with interest, recognizing his unmistakable aura for that of the King of Curses, – and, to his utmost shock, – you proceeded to have a perfectly normal, civilized conversation with him. Never once did you look at him like you would a monster. Every time he’d get lost in those eyes of yours, never once did he find anything short of pure love and affection. It was sickeningly sweet. 

There on a mission, you introduced yourself as a fellow Jujutsu Sorcerer. 

Ryomen Sukuna could’ve sworn he’d heard your name before: rather infamous with the higher-ups, you were a well-respected sorcerer. That only aided to his immense confusion: why would a sorcerer of such high esteem and all around regard even remotely think talking to him, the King of Curses, was a good idea? 

Absolutely flabbergasted and entranced from your first encounter, Ryomen Sukuna was practically completely at your mercy. It took very little for you to simply haul him over your shoulder and take him wherever; he’d soon become akin to a lost puppy with you. 

Ryomen Sukuna is absolutely down-horrendous with his emotions. Hah, communication? Never heard of her. 

He’s never felt this deep for anyone before, and it terrifies him to no end. You terrify him to no end,-- the amount of power you have over him could be almost comical. 

At the start, he flat out avoided you altogether. Anytime he’d see you on campus he’d immediately start in the opposite direction. Anytime you’d attempt to strike up a conversation something would come up,-- he’d have to go somewhere, or the brats had gotten themselves in trouble again. And when Satoru Gojo found out about his little “crush”...  oh boy, the teasing was lethal.

It wasn’t long before he craved your touch, and Ryomen Sukuna started to enter withdrawal from your presence. You were brutal, the poison continuously being pumped into his veins, – which was extra ironic, considering he was after all the King of Poisons, – how the actual hell did he end up in such a position? What have you done to him? 

Man, he was cooked. 

With a lot of time, and a heck of a lot of patience, did the curse finally allow himself to reveal more of himself to you. 

It’s never been easy, – even after you two were married did Ryomen Sukuna still suck absolute ass at communicating his wants. 

He craved your attention, your gaze, your approval. You were the drug that he simply couldn’t get enough of. 

He’s not good with words, – in the past everything was just handed to him, – he had no clue how to actually work for someone’s affection. 

Please be patient with him, – he’s trying, he really is 🥺. No matter how much he denies it, no matter how much he complains he hates being dependent on someone, no matter how much he claims how meaningless love is, you both know deep down these feelings of deep admiration and affection aren’t one sided. Sometimes, that fact alone can get you through even his most frustrating of times. He pushes you away because he feels guilty, but almost immediately does he regret his actions and desire your presence more than anything. The things you do to him 

He lost his original form centuries ago, abandoning it after his near fatal confrontation with the sorcerers of the Heian Era. Gravely wounded, he absolved to staying hidden, laying low in the shadows. Sometimes he wished he still had that form, – still had his four arms, his two faces– he felt stronger, prettier in that body. Despite how much you told him how beautiful his current, two-armed form was, he wonders if you would’ve liked his original form– what it could do, how it could please your body. (But most of all he missed his two massive cocks to shove deep inside you–)

Ryomen Sukuna is very insecure about his image as the feared “King of Curses”. He’d be seen as weak, like he’d gone soft, – if anyone found out about you. That did little to deter you from showering him with your affections though <3 Even if he struggled to receive such affections–:

“What the actual hell do you think you’re doing–” 

“What? Am I not allowed to visit my darling husband at his job?” 

“No- ..! Who exactly do you think you are, you can’t just waltz into wherever to embarrass me–” You were in an empty classroom in what would be the normal time for lunch. The students would be out eating, so it was only you and him.

“Is that really all you think I do? Embarrass you?” You fought to conceal the pained expression threatening to bubble up to the surface. 

“Yes! Do you know what they’ll think of me if they see me with you? He snaps angrily

“Are you.. Ashamed of me?” You blink 

“What-? No, of course not” His face contorts into a scowl 

“Then why can’t people see me with you?!” 

“That’s not what I meant–” He hisses 

“Yeah?” you retort, “then, what did you mean by that?” 

“I–....”  Ryomen Sukuna only ever seems to find himself short of words with you

Nodding curtly, “I’ll take my leave then” you make your way to the door 

“Wait-” you pause, he hated seeing you upset. It made him feel hopeless, it made him feel weak. “tsk, nevermind. Leave then” 

Huffing, you step out the door. Your second foot never even leaves the threshold before you’re lifted up by a pair of strong arms. 

“Gah-! Ryomen– what the hell?!” 

“Shut up.” the curse growls, placing you down on the nearest desk with a surprising gentleness, “just shut up.” He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck

You smile, accustomed to his brazenness, knowing this was him succumbing to his own affections for you.

“I’ll be quieter next time.” 

“Mmm… don’t be”

“Oh?” you quirk an eyebrow, “are you no longer embarrassed of being seen with me?” 

“No,” he grumbles, “if any pathetic worm dares to utter something against me, I’ll cleave their head off” 

Chuckling, “charming”

“I’ll do it for you too” that part he whispers, so low you almost miss it. Almost. 

“Awh, you’d slaughter anyone putting dirt on my name? And they say romance is dead 🥰” 

“Shut the hell up.” 

-------------

Sukuna Ryomen would have a special ringer set for you in his phone so whenever you’d text him he’d know it was you 

He never responds to anyone’s texts,-- anyone’s that’s not yours. 

The second he hears that notification that man is immediately scrolling. It took him years to figure out how to work a telephone,-- and he still kinda sucks at it. So it takes him a while to respond, – he’s just a slow typer :) 

He’ll be in the middle of sparring with Yuji for his training when he’ll hear your notification and swiftly whip out his phone, – still in the middle of fighting. Poor Yuji will still be sweating his ass off trying his very diddly darn hardest to land a singular punch and he won't even glance up from his phone 😭

It doesn’t matter what he’s doing, – the guy could be in the middle of fighting a Special Grade and he’d start texting you about what he wants for dinner while simultaneously throwing slashes 😟

Not big on PDA, – but alone? Man, you can’t get the bastard off you, – blud’s clingier than a kitten 😭he just really likes being nice and snuggled up in your arms 

Alone, will often call you, – regardless of gender, – doll, (whore), sweetheart (if you’re not being a pain in the ass), – possessive lil’ shit and likes to add ‘my’ in front of any pet name, just to enforce the fact that you’re his. 

Calls you karasu –(Japanese word for raven) 

Sukuna Ryomen is incredibly picky with what he eats, (unless it’s your ass–)     – he needs his meals done in a very specific way, otherwise he’s just not eating. It needs to be your meals too. If bro forgets to bring lunch or you don’t have time to make one for him he just starves. He’s an absolute menace when hangry– super grumpy. None of the students can stand him hungry, – and he refuses to defile his delicate palette with fast food of all horrible things

You got some of those cute cookie cutters for sandwiches and gave him little star sandwiches one day for his lunch. Mans was over the fucking moon. His ass refuses to ever eat another sandwich again unless its cut into cute lil’ shapes 🤏🥺

Be careful if you ever decide to visit him at work after a certain amount of times, cuz he will make you useful: using you as a sparring partner, giving you chores, making an example out of you to the other students. 

You’re strong enough to hold your own against the King of Curses in a quick spar, – which really only means you won’t get immediately eviscerated upon throwing hands. 

You’re strong, but nowhere near as strong as Ryomen Sukuna. 

He’d only give you a cocky smirk, telling you to hurry up and lock in. You stare at the expecting faces of Megumi, Nobara and Yuji – who you naturally have grown a rather close bond to, being around each other so often. He gives you a reassuring thumbs up, smiling with an expectant glamor. You gulp, glancing back at your husband who has the most shit-eating grin on his face. Oh, you were cooked. 

You manage to successfully dodge at least two strong attacks before being thrown onto your ass, the wind knocked out of you. Huffing, you scramble up, irritation giving you newfound determination. The King only raises an eyebrow at you. 

You explode into a sprint, dashing up behind him, seemingly catching him off-guard. You lean in real close to his ear, whispering in a sultry tone: 

“Your shoelace is untied” 

“What, I’m not even wearing shoelaces–” and he gets thrown into the nearest tree, snapping it in half. 

“Hahah!!” 

“No way, Sukuna just got his ass handed to him!” Nobara exclaims, grinning

“That was so cool!” gushes Yuji, sending a wave of pride flowing through you at his excitement. 

It is short lived, as your husband comes up behind you, glaring with a burning passion in his eyes. 

“You totally beat him up, you sent him flying–” Megumi slaps a hand to Yuji’s mouth, his rambling getting choked off with a “mmph-!” 

His smile is laced with dynamite as Sukuna dismisses the students early. Confused, but mostly relieved, the trio scurry away, Nobara and Yuji shouting cheery goodbyes over their shoulders. 

Only you were close enough to see the raging lust in the King of Curse’s many eyes. His gaze rakes over your body, tensed in a fight or flight state, predatory. You swallow, hard, chuckling nervously, “Heheheh…”  

Oh man, you were so horribly, undoubtedly cooked. 

(short smut begins below line)

----------

[AFAB vers.]

Sukuna is brutal, hips smashing against yours, large hands gripping so hard large bruises start to form on your hips. You cry out, sobbing, pleading with him to slow the fuck down. Sukuna only clicks his tongue, condescension dripping from his tone, 

“Where’s all that confidence and strength from before, eh?” 

“h..*hic*..huh-?” 

“Tsk,” he grunts, slamming himself particularly hard into your leaking heat, causing you to scream in both pleasure and pain

“S..sukuna-!! P- *hic* please..-! I-..I can’t— I can’t– OHH~” You keel over, knees giving in from underneath you. You stay pressed firmly against the teacher’s desk– his desk–  in his empty classroom, – only being held by Sukuna’s deadly grip. “I-It *hic*.. It– HURTS..- *hic*” 

“You can,...  and. you. will.”  he punctuates each syllable with another unforgivable thrust, “You seemed confident enough you.. *pant* take me in a..- *pant* .. in a fight– fuck–” Warm cum swells, coating your insides white. 

Your eyes roll violently to the back of your head, thighs squeezing desperately against him, instinctively trying to milk him for all he’s got, – despite the excess cum already spilling from your abused hole, kept in only by Sukuna’s massive cock. Was this the fourth or the fifth time..? 

You lost count ages ago, numbers losing all sense of value along with everything else in your head, Sukuna absolutely fucking your goddamn brains out. Dumbed by his cock, you could only limply gaze dreamily through lidded eyes, a look of pure bliss on your face. 

Sukuna grins down at your fucked out face, admiring you as his masterpiece. You looked so pretty impaled on his cock. Pulling your head back by your hair, he smashes his lips onto yours in a sloppy kiss. You truly were the best thing to come of his long, cursed life. 

-------------

[AMAB vers.]

Sukuna is cruel, hips smashing against your ass, large hands gripping so hard large bruises start to form on your hips. He fucks you, bent over the desk, – his desk, in his empty classroom,-- and shaking like a pathetic mutt. You cry out, sobbing, pleading with him to slow the fuck down. Sukuna only clicks his tongue, condescension dripping from his tone, 

“Where’s all that confidence and strength from before, eh?” 

“h..*hic*..huh-?” 

“Tsk,” he grunts, large hand closing around your swollen, throbbing cock. Your eyes widen in horror as he begins to jerk you off at a grueling pace, causing you to scream in both pleasure and pain

“S..sukuna-!! P- *hic* please..-! I-..I can’t— I can’t– OHH~” You keel over, knees giving in from underneath you. You stay pressed firmly against the desk only held by Sukuna’s torso. “I-It *hic*.. It– HURTS..- *hic*” 

“You can,...  and. you. will.”  He punctuates each syllable with another unforgivable thrust, syncing with a violent pump to your cock, limpand emptied out. “You seemed confident enough you.. *pant* take me in a..- *pant* .. in a fight– fuck–” Warm cum swells, coating your insides white. 

Your eyes roll violently to the back of your head, thighs squeezing desperately against him, instinctively trying to milk him for all he’s got, – despite the excess cum already spilling from your abused hole, kept in only by Sukuna’s massive cock. You're so drained, already milked dry, a few meager squirts of cum dripping from your cock. Was this the fourth or the fifth time..? 

You lost count ages ago, numbers losing all sense of value along with everything else in your head, Sukuna absolutely fucking your goddamn brains out. Dumbed by his cock, you could only limply gaze dreamily through lidded eyes, the look of utter worship on your face enough for him to harden once again inside of you. 

Sukuna grins down at your fucked out face, admiring you as his masterpiece. You looked so pretty impaled on his cock. Pulling your head back by your hair, he smashes his lips onto yours in a sloppy kiss. You truly were the best thing to come of his tedious, damned life. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sukuna brain-rot goes hard-!! He's such a goofy lil' guy, I love him :3

[lure-of-writing]

Never been good enough

Authors note: I haven't written in forever so please forgive me if this isn't the best but I would love to hear what you think!

Summary: You would never be good enough for Ariel

Word Count: 2.3k Warnings: Arguing, curse words, mentions of death, Elain slander, Tamlin makes an appearance

Part two: Left in regret

Part three: Why can't We?

There was always something so enticing about Azriel that you could never put your finger on. To simply put it he was fascinating. Being a part of the inner circle for as long as you have meant that you put your feelings for him aside, did what you thought was best for the group. Not only that but Azriel never gave you any signs that he was interested in you and there was no way you would let him know about your feelings. What if you guys dated and it didn't work out? Or worse, what if you told him and he didn’t feel the same way? These types of thoughts made a home in your head and they made it a point to consistently remind you that Azriel would only ever be a friend. But hey, better a friend then nothing at all, Right?

That was until Rhysand met Feyre and in turn met Nesta and Elain. This is where your downfall began. You were truly happy for your high lord and new high lady but could have done without her sisters. Nesta was always ready to pick a fight and tear you down with her words as if she were some wild animal backed into a corner that would bite if you tried to pet it. The comparison wasn’t far off, she basically was a wild animal. Elain on the other hand was, well, contemptible at best. From what you knew Elain was basically loved by all in the inner circle but you. There was just something about her that irked you to your core. In a world that praised the strong and belittled the weak, her innocence bothered you. Why did Feyre have to do everything for her sisters, especially the middle one? As an older sister yourself you would have made any sacrifice necessary to protect your little sister. In fact you did. Maybe that's why you resented the middle sister. 

Before the new additions were made to your family life was perfect, before under the mountain of course, the group was a perfectly balanced number and each person had their person. Rys with Armen, Mor and Cassian, you and Azriel. The group would spend long days giving each other a run for their money with stupid bets and at night you would have an even longer night getting drunk at ritas, but ever since Ryhsand met Feyre things changed almost instantly. It was like the people you once knew completely changed over night. You still knew who they were to their core but you didn’t recognize who they had become. 

Cassian bowed to an unwavering, impolite, ungrateful human turned fae also known as Nesta, he was willing to die for someone who would never give the time of day to even acknowledge that he existed. Amren found company in her ruthlessness, found friendship and understanding in her unbothered face. 

Mor found sisterhood among the complexities of healing with Feyre, through the grief and joy and thousands of other emotions one feels when finding themselves after trauma.

Ryhsand found his mate, the one he never thought he would meet. The one he was willing to die for as long as that meant she was safe.  

Azriel saw the need to protect someone as delicate as Elain. So he did. 

And you, you found a changed group of people before your very own eyes. 

“Azriel can I please hold the fancy special dagger?” the Shadowsinger simply stares at you from the other side of the ring. Today had been training day for everyone excluding Amren, if you asked her she would say it didn’t pertain to her, and while the boys took turns sparring you were teaching Mor a new fighting technique you learned recently. “No” the short answer was no surprise to you at all. “Why not? I even said please and I never say please” the inner circle could not wait to witness this scene unfold for this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence but considering that you were Azriels favorite amongst the group even if he refused to say it, they thought that maybe one day you would wear him down enough to the point where he lets you hold the truth teller. “y/n I have never let anyone hold that dagger and you will not be the first. You are more than capable of handling yourself without my blade.” “Exactly I am more than capable of handling a dagger Azriel. One day I will get the truth teller in my hands just you wait.” he simply raised his shoulders in a shrugging manner as if to say “yeah I’m not concerned”

To say you were surprised that Azriel gave Elain the truth teller would be an understatement but honestly you should of seen it coming. Not even a few days before he was rushing into the hybern camp to save Elain without any second thought. There was never a time in the five hundred years where Azriel threw himself into a situation like that where he didn’t at least take some time to plan everything out. As a spy yourself you knew that at least having a fraction of a plan could save your life but it appeared Arizel was willing to die to save her. Feyre's sister be damned. So to watch from afar as he handed over his dagger to inexperienced hands was truly a gut wrenching experience. How could your closest friend of literally hundreds of years spend his potentially last moments with someone who was basically a stranger instead of a true friend? It was a revealing moment, it either showed how kind he was to try and help a defenseless person have a means to defend themselves if the time came where it was needed or he truly had changed and no longer cared for you. You would have your answer sooner than you had hoped. 

For as long as you have existed you were trained as a spy for the cover up of an  assassin. It made you as deadly as anyone else in the inner circle, maybe even deadlier since no one ever saw their death by your hands coming. So when the time came to go to war you were ready. The Battle was bloody and ugly and cruel. It was long and it felt never ending for every body you cut down it seemed there was ten more to replace it. When you watched as Cassin dove from the sky just as the cauldron unleashed its power amongst the world, the fight seemed hopeless. How were you supposed to win when hybern had that kind of power to be used whenever the king wished? But as a warrior in your own right you just wished that when you died upon this battle field that it wasn’t for nothing. That everyone in your family made it home by the end of this war, you may not recognize your family anymore but they meant the world to you and you just wanted them to be safe no matter the cost. 

Seeing help arrive re-established your hope that Hybern wouldn’t win and it pushed you to fight that much harder but the renewed sense of vigor made you lose focus and that was your downfall. A hybern soldier came charging at you with the anger of a thousand suns and sliced your stomach in one quick motion and before you knew it you were one the ground bleeding out. 

The inner circle was checking on Cassian when an unexpected figure came walking in with your limp body in their arms. “Oh gods, y/n!’’ Mor was the first to stand up and gawk at you in Tamlins arms before the healers directed him to a place where they could properly work on you. Nothing was said as the healers started working, as the inner circles' minds were racing and as Tamlin was leaving. “Thank you” Tamlin didn’t even stop to acknowledge Rhysands form of gratitude. Azriel was the first to speak “How did we forget about her?” no one had an answer.  

Once back in Velaris with your healing underway you could tell that something was off within the group besides the obvious effects of a battle like that and a gut feeling told what it was. You could feel this sense of guilt every time you stepped foot into a room and you knew it was that they forgot about you, they never said that they did but while you were unconscious you could hear everything, and what you heard broke your heart. You were becoming an outsider in your own family. 

You watched day by day as Amren bickered with Nesta, Ryhsand flirt with Feyre and cassian with Nesta, watched as Elain and Azriel danced the line of lovers and watched as you were slowly distanced from the group but it all came to a head after a heated argument with Elain. You were sick and tired of her acting like she was helpless when she wasn’t. She was cauldron made and she needed to start acting like it or else it would get someone killed or even herself. It happened on a training day. 

The sun was beating down on your tired body and the whisper of a breeze was doing little to help and listening to Elain ask Azriel for help was driving you up a wall. “Azriel can you help me? I don’t think I'm doing this right?”  all she was doing was stretching and she needed help with it? “For fucks sake Elain do you want him to spoon feed you and wipe your ass for you while hes at it?” Everyone stopped at your outburst and stared at you. Nesta looked like she was ready to rip off your face but Azriel beat her to it “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you watched as she shifted her body to be behind his as if she knew he would fight her battles for her. “What it means Azriel” you stalked into his space until you were face to face and watched over his shoulder and Elain moved to seek comfort between her sister and the high lord and you couldn’t help but scoff at her theatrics 

 “Is that all this group ever seems to do is baby her! She is not a child, she can handle herself. She doesn’t need you to teach her how to touch her toes Azriel but heaven forbid poor sweet Elain has to do something on her own for once. I mean my gods what aren’t you willing to do for her Azriel? Correct me if I’m wrong but didn’t you give her the truth teller?” Azriel was quick to interrupt “Is that what this is seriously about?” if looks could kill he would be dead because your glare is cutting him up into pieces “I wasn’t done. You gave her your dagger, you went into a hybern camp to save her, you answer her every single beck and call as if she's not fully capable of doing things for herself. You all enable this, every single one of you!” you point to every member of the inner circle “ And I have had enough of this bullshit! Its ridiculous! Elain loves to play sweet and innocent but really she just loves having people dote on her and not having to do anything herself.”  Everyone knew you were seething for they could see the redness creeping up your neck and into your face. And apparently you pissed off Elain

 “So what if Azriel did those things for me it has nothing to do with you so mind your own business.” you knew she wasn’t as nice as she seemed. “This has everything to do with me! I used to be his best friend, me! Not you! I watched everyone change when your family came along and it ruined mine! I have been in love with Azriel since the day I met him and yet I’ve had to watch him fall for you, who he hasn’t even known for two seconds! I heard him say that they forgot about me on the battlefield after hybern! So yes this is about me, I am an outsider in my own family!” The silence was deafening after watching you fight to speak through your tears and cracking voice. No one dared to move for fear of upsetting you even more or maybe it was the weight of your words keeping them in place. Azriel went to place a hand on top of your shoulder but you were quick to step out of his reach. “Y/n I had no idea you felt that way” again you couldn’t help but scoff “Of course not because you were too busy with sweet Elain to notice anything else.” he shook his head as if in a silent no “I am so sorry that we forgot about you there is no excuse it should of never happened. I-we never knew you felt this way, felt like you were being pushed away. But y/n why didn’t you ever tell me that you had feelings for me?” something broke in Azriels heart watching you cry, watched as your face scrunched in pain while you fought back sobs from taking over your body. Something pulled him to comfort you but he knew better than that. He couldn’t, not with Elain here.

“I have been telling you for five hundred years Azriel how much more do you want me to do? I may have never flat out said it but why do you think I stayed up waiting for you to come home after missions, or why I defended you against the teasing, or why I showed you my love in a thousand different ways but you never noticed even though you are the head spy master of the night court.” a sob racked your body forcing you to stop and Azriel wanted nothing more than to hold you until the tears stopped flowing and you felt whole again something in his soul was pulling him towards you but your next words stopped him in his tracks. “I never told you because to you it seems that I have never just been good enough. I have never been enough for you.”

[aphroditelovesu]

Hello, can you do a headcannon Yandere (father) King Henry and Yandere (mother) Anna Boleyn with their only surviving son?

❝ 👑 — lady l: I really like the idea of ​​them being platonic yanderes for a son, so I hope you like it! Forgive me for any mistakes and good reading! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, overprotection, mention of miscarriages, murder and implied cheating and toxic relationships.

❝👑pairing: platonic yandere!henry viii/anne boleyn x son!reader.

Anne was desperate to conceive a male heir, her only hope of staying alive and maintaining the interest of the King who, after some miscarriages and the birth of a daughter, has already began to wander towards one of her ladies-in-waiting.

So when she discovered a new pregnancy, she desperately prayed for a son and that she wouldn't suffer another miscarriage. She could not bear the loss and pain. Henry was pleased with the new pregnancy, but worried. Anne had already had several miscarriages and was only able to produce one healthy child, a daughter.

Anne took great care of herself during her pregnancy, taking care of what she ate and drank and trying to maintain good health. The first few months were the most tense, with fear enveloping both Anne and Henry. As the pregnancy progressed and there was no miscarriage, Anne became more confident.

When the day finally arrived to give birth, she was anxious. Henry was also anxious and he was so nervous when he heard Anne screaming outside the room, he didn't know what to think. When a baby's cries finally came after what seemed like hours, he entered the room.

Anne held her baby on her lap and cried softly and when a doctor approached Henry and said, "Congratulations, Your Majesty. You have an heir", it was the first time that Henry felt complete happiness. When he picked you up, he was smiling from ear to ear. Not only were you the much-desired male heir but you also saved your mother's head.

Both of them would be extremely overprotective of their only son and those close to you will be scrutinized. Henry has become very paranoid about your safety and takes every precaution possible.

You are always by your mother or father's side, you cannot be alone at any time with a stranger. Anne, especially, would like to keep you sewn to her side all the time. She cares about you a lot and is always checking up on you. When you get sick, she becomes paranoid that you will die.

You are your parents' greatest pride and Henry doesn't try to hide it. He neglects all his other children and gives you all his love and affection. He takes you for walks, hunting and spoils you with all the perks that a future King deserves. In addition to showing you off before the Court. After all, you are the future King.

They are both very proud of anything you do. Any milestone, no matter how small, will be applauded by them. Your first words, the first time you walked and everything else will be treated with great celebration. Expensive parties are thrown in your honor all the time.

As you grow up, they become even more overprotective and controlling. Anne does not want you to leave the Court under any circumstances and Henry allows you to do so, but only with many guards. There were many threats lurking and they couldn't let anything happen to you. May God forbid anything from happening to you as the results will be disastrous.

Anne hates it when you spend time with other people, especially if they are women. The only women you need in your life are your mother and your older sister, Elizabeth. Although she understands that's a part of a man's life, she still doesn't like it and any potential mistress or love interest will be dealt with quickly. She is your mother, so no one has more right to you than her.

Henry is more than aware of his wife's actions and although he doesn't encourage them, he doesn't reprimand her. In fact, he's probably the one who encourages you to enjoy your life even if it always leads to fights with Anne. It was worth it when you looked happy. And your happiness is very important to him.

Your potential friends will be scrutinized and if your parents don't like them, they will leave. Henry and Anne won't sentence them to death at first, but if you or they are stubborn, they will be tried for treason. Don't you understand that you shouldn't trust anyone other than your own family? Your parents are the only ones who want the best for you.

Henry and Anne are smothering and protective parents but they only have your best interests at heart. They want you to live a full and happy life, but with them by your side. You were everything they both wanted and they would be damned if they let anything happen to you. England still does not know the fury of its monarchs nor the overwhelming love they feel for their only son.

[deadandphilgames]

A note from Daniel (new epilogue from You Will Get Through This Night)

Thank you for reading This Night. Writing this book in 2021, while sitting locked down in a lightless basement apartment for months, had a certain self-fulfilling irony that was not lost on me.

In many ways, I wrote this book for not only my past self that I wish could have known these things when I needed them most - but for the guy sitting in an incredibly uncomfortable, hunched, t-rex-esque position typing, that needed it right then. Like many of you, I thought those particularly fun couple of years were a temporary inconvenience, that I wouldn't have to age the book by diving into. And here we are. I hope you enjoyed that new chapter about resilience and whatever the hell a 'polycrisis' is. Turns out certain global events do have an additional effect on our mental health - it's understandable that you may try to power through it and pretend it never happened, but we all deserve to take whatever time we need to honestly process how life makes us feel. I hope you're doing alright. My journey of reflecting honestly on my own life experiences and lifestyle while writing was …like spontaneously punching yourself in the stomach. "Wow. I really live like this? That is apparently not conducive to a healthy mind. Oops. Guess I'll go touch some grass." I'm happy if that made this a more entertaining read occasionally.

Even now, I find myself continually re-reading the book in those small moments of first emotional reaction to situations where I now at least think "Wait - what was I supposed to do here? Right. Not catastrophise." If this is you - that is fine. You are not expected to perfectly memorise this book or retain all knowledge you hear in life. I know I don't. If you're ever sat next to me in the emergency exit aisle of a plane, know that you may be required to physically throw me out of the door in order to inflate the slide because I was busy during the briefing, imagining how my life would have been different if I actually had the nerve to dye my hair black that time in school. I am at peace with that.

It was honestly terrifying for me to try and mine the content of my life to try and actually illustrate advice for people that may really need it …for me to honestly look at the balance between joking about my mental health, and really getting real. Hey - if your attempt at opening up via some humour comes out a bit offensive, you still get points for at least putting it on the table. That's progress.

This is not a book about me. I am here just as an example of terrible behaviour that you have permission to have an inappropriate public transport snort at, and as a writer who has repeatedly not finished traditional 'self-help' or scientific study books for being dry, unrelatable and preachy. I just hope you found this moist, identifiable and accepting of all of your beautiful flaws. So many flaws. I often worried if any of the material was maybe obvious, or something you could stumble across on the second page of Google - then I had a small moment of honesty with myself contemplating my own ignorance, commitment to procrastination, attention span …and the fact that factually just 0.63% of all people searching online, ever bother clicking to the second page of results. If you already knew some of this, good for you. Honestly. You must literally be happy with yourself. I'm just looking in the mirror and trying to do something for the 99.37% of humanity that spend their lives never successfully researching how to not lay awake at night fantasising about their doom. Look forward to the upcoming pocket size book of 'offensively self-destructive jokes' by Dan - or 700-page memoir of my yet un-girthy, mostly unremarkable life so far if that's what you're really looking for.

Perhaps the most terrifying result of releasing this book into the world, has been coming face to face with those of you that have read it. For in these moments, all of my protective self-deprecating persona comes crashing down in an instant when someone says this book made them feel better. Hearing that this book was the first time they finished anything tangentially related to self-improvement, or that just one thing they read was a new perspective on a part of their life they needed, makes me feel my mission in life is already complete. Seeing it be recommended by bookstores amongst all the other choices, hearing that people have shared it with their therapists or had it suggested to them by a professional, is an unbelievable seal of approval that I appreciate. I am so inarticulably grateful to have been given the opportunity to do anything that could make your life easier, more peaceful, more enjoyable. I've met people who annotated this book with post-its, told me they listen to audiobook exercises on their commute - and even a few people that have had illustrations tattooed onto them as a symbolic reminder of a message.

All of this puts that year of typing like some kind of infinite monkey at a typewriter into perspective. I'd do it all again. Mostly. It has been the greatest privilege of my life to be the guy whose name is printed on this book, and I just hope that reading it helped you, as much as writing it helped me.

Love and good luck.

- Dan

[sequinsnstars]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ fresh page, on the desk ݁˖ ⊹ ‧₊˚

JASON GRACE .ᐟ

ingredients; mason grace and cupcakes

fyi; gn reader who is roman but has no specified godly parent, timeline is messy but wtv, cursing, i reference media i like bc i’m self indulgent, little additions to the hoo plot, silly little 4th wall breaking

notes; first fic hii, lmk ur thoughts! probably a series 👀 big thank u to all my fave pjo writers/moots for inspiring this 🫶🏽 @hopelesslyromanticshark @jgracie @cinemaconrad

wc; 1.7k

food mood; classic vanilla cupcakes. perhaps with a light chocolate frosting.

Cyclops Books was your safe haven.

After a long day of excessive criticism during training, it was the perfect place to allow yourself to relax your posture, if only a little bit. You loved your friends, yes, but sometimes you just needed a little break from it all. The entirety of New Rome was your third place. The somehow always-green grass and thriving flowers, the curved cobblestone streets leading to homes filled with laughter and warmth, the lingering scents of the bakery’s famous freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies – you could go on. Even Terminus couldn’t stop you from coming here as much as you were able to.

So why was it so off today?

As you took your usual evening stroll before dinner, you noticed that almost all the homes and shops had their bright white porch lights on and the usual soft, yellowed string ones were put away. Not to mention the lack of New Rome Elementary kids playing outside after school, or the fact that the usual cozy atmosphere felt tight and formal: the exact thing you tried to get away from by coming here. It even felt like the sunset sky was trying its best to remain a single organized color rather than its usual gorgeous, messy, watercolor-like self.

You tried not to think about it much as you entered your favorite bookstore. Your bookstore. It had been ever since your first visit years ago. It had taken a while to grow accustomed to camp. During the New Rome field trip for fresh campers, something about it drew you in. The warm hanging lights and the stacked bookshelves reminded you of a shop in one of the many cities you’d lived in. That one had always been your favorite. Tyson and Ella had welcomed you strongly that day, cheering, “New campers! New campers!” and shoving slightly burnt croissants in your face. After seeing all your favorite mortal books for sale, you decided it would be the first of many times you entered the place. It wasn’t long before you striked up a friendship with the two owners – they were some of your favorite people to see, plus, they let you pick out their store music!

(As of late, you’d mostly been playing the new Taylor Swift album.)

You opened the door, greeted with the familiar out-of-tune entry bells. Ella was curled up in her cardboard box, sleeping, but she peeked out when she saw you.

“Hello!” Her eyes lit up.

You smiled. “It’s nice to see you too, Ella.” According to what Percy had said about his first quest with Hazel and Frank, Ella was a lot more content now that she was with Tyson. You were truly happy for the couple, they had been nothing but sweet to you and they deserved all the good things coming to them.

She yawned and murmured, “Big event today. Tyse preparing in back. Back, back, back… Back to December. Taylor Swift. Speak Now. Now, now, now…” and promptly dozed off again. You let her sleep, heading to the romance section to hopefully find the new Emily Henry book. Still, you couldn’t shake the thought out of your mind. 

You entered the next aisle, thankfully getting your hands on the last copy of Funny Story. You took another quick walk through the areas you normally shopped from, since the store almost always had copies of books before they were officially released. It was unclear how Tyson and Ella managed to do this, but you suspected it had something to do with all the excess time a certain son of Vulcan–sorry, Hephaestus–had been spending on his computer, finding passcodes for mysterious files.

Not that you were complaining.

You walked a little faster to the R section when you spotted Love of the Gods!, a packed adventure about three mortals, Peter, Annie, and Grant, stumbling upon an entrance to the Underworld at a Halloween party and pet sitting the three-headed dog, Cerebrus. Silently, you thanked Leo for saving you from the four months of wait time for the official release.

Heading to checkout, you picked up a few new annotation tabs and cute pens for when you started reading your new books. You peeked over the counter to see if Tyson had come back – you really were curious about what was happening today. You were about to head into the staff-only back room (perks of being friends with the owners) until you saw a rose-adorned china bowl filled with cupcake batter just by the door.

Ella’s birthday was approaching fast, so you remembered that Tyson was preparing. He’d told you that he was going to make some sweet treats in advance, as well as plan to surprise her with Eras Tour tickets and ask Taylor to play The Alchemy and You Are In Love as the acoustic set.

You were so not jealous that Leo and the couple had gotten to attend a listening party for The Tortured Poets Department as a thank you for that one time they went on a quest to retrieve an enchanted scarf from the monster James Gyllenborg. Who said that?

You were focused on the food in front of you, but if you’d looked up to see who walked in when you heard the door bells chime, you might have avoided the fiasco about to happen.

Your books were tucked under your arm so you could help Tyson out a little and start pouring the batter into cute heart-shaped molds. You filled two cups and were getting ready to start a third when someone shoved your back, hard. The two novels you were about to purchase fell into the batter bowl, now completely soaked. Your jaw dropped.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” mumbled a voice from behind you.

“Watch where you’re going,” you hissed. If it was another one of those annoying New Rome boys, you swore you were going to–

You turned around and saw a blonde boy wearing a black vintage varsity jacket, blue jeans, and a pair of Chuck Taylors. You would have brushed the matter aside and treated him like anyone else if you hadn’t seen the Imperial gold glasses, the scar on his lip, and that pair of electric blue eyes.

The same ones half the camp fawned over.

Holy Tartarus.

“Praetor Grace,” you said.

Jason tensed at the name. “Uh, yeah. That’s me.”

There was a bit of awkward silence, then he continued. “Every few months, either Reyna or I come here with the intention of doing shop inspections. Council work. Normally, we go in and introduce ourselves, but usually when I come here… is his name Tyson?”

“Tyson,” you agreed, still reeling from the shock.

“Yes. Him. He gets stressed out when I say I’m praetor, so I dressed a little differently this time, to say the least. I only hope he doesn’t know my face well enough to recognize me.”

So that was why he was out of his professional attire. Anyone who didn’t know him wouldn’t have guessed he co-led the camp. Oh gods, this must have been why New Rome was on edge today.

Jason peered over your shoulder to look at the bowl. His eyes widened when he saw the books. “Shit. Did I do that? I’m so sorry, I’ll pay–”

“No, it was an accident, it’s not your fault,” you interjected. You did not want to have to deal with the awkwardness of the praetor paying for you. Besides, Tyson didn’t mind these kinds of things too much, since you two were close.

Just then, said Cyclops walked out.

Both you and Jason rushed in front of the bowl mess. You weren’t anxious about the books – it was the batter. If Tyson found out it was ruined, he’d be devastated.

You felt queasy seeing the grin on his face. How were you going to get yourself out of this?

“Friend!” he exclaimed. “Brought another friend… a boyfriend?”

Laughing nervously, you said, “No, not my–”

Jason took your hand in his calloused yet warm one and beamed at Tyson. “That’s right. The name’s Mason. I’ve heard all about this wonderful shop!” 

What the fuck?

He looked at you, a hint of pleading in his eyes. Oh. You understood.

“Yes, he has, obviously.” You nodded hastily. “I just had to tell my loving, sweet, gorgeous boyfriend all about Cyclops Books!”

(Was it you, or did the praetor turn a little pink?)

He recovered fast, replying with, “Pfft. Says the most amazing, beautiful, and talented baker I know.” Jason moved aside to reveal what you’d been doing before he entered the store. At first, you panicked, but when you looked at the bowl and books, they were clean and separated, as if nothing had happened at all.

Tyson gasped. “Cupcakes!” He ran to clear items off the counter so he could move the setup to a better area.

“How did you do that?” You whispered out the corner of your mouth.

“Gravity acts on air. Child of Jupiter stuff and all that. I lifted the books out and transported the excess batter back into the bowl. Any remaining dust or bacteria I sent back into the atmosphere. I tried to direct it to the sewers. The cupcakes are fine.”

“Wow.” You were impressed. He’d gone that far for someone he barely even knew?

Tyson returned to pick up the baking materials and put them on the counter. He looked up with a bright expression. “Wait. Double date! Ella! Me! Mason! You! Pretty please?”

Um.

You were about to say no and tell him about getting punishment from Reyna – having to clean out Scipio’s stable for the whole week. It wasn’t a lie; you had been caught skipping out on training a few days ago. You were surprised Terminus even let you into New Rome, considering he was usually informed on who broke camp rules. But before you could respond, your new boyfriend did.

“That sounds perfect! This Friday at six? We could visit the cinema, maybe?”

Gleefully, the Cyclops clapped. “Yay! Good idea!”

“Great! It’s a date!” Jason smiled. He glanced at you, but you couldn’t read his expression. “I’ll pick you up thirty minutes early. I’ve got to go help out Cohort 5 now really quick, there’s a soldier that needs tending to. I’ll see you later?”

You stared at him for a few seconds before processing what he was asking you. “Of course. Totally. Yeah.”

He nodded and winked as he left the shop.

What just happened?

hope you enjoyed the meal!

thank you for your order and your waitress siara hopes you come again soon 💌

[cuubism]

I kind of just forgot to finish this fic - whoops!

physical therapy - the final installment

Hob helps him put all his books and things away. It gives his flat slightly more color and life. Dream still feels his lost art as an aching hole in his chest but at least he has this, Hob and these incremental improvements.

When they’re done he orders takeaway, and over his lo mein he mulls on what happened, on what he said. Hob didn’t actually say it back. But it— it’s fine. Even if Hob doesn’t say it aloud, it’s okay. Dream knows that Hob loves him. He shows it. He doesn’t need to say it. Dream’s ex-lover had, after all, said that he loved him frequently. “Come on, you know I love you.” But where had it shown up? That was not love. It was the opposite of love.

So he doesn’t need Hob to say it back, it is enough that he—

“Hey, Dream?” Hob says, interrupting his thought. His smile is warm, successfully banishing any hope of Dream finding his line of thinking again, as sunlight does to shadows. “I love you.”

“You were just thinking that now?” Dream asks weakly.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t say it before. I was too startled that you did.”

Dream supposes he had said it somewhat… fast. He has often been too fast in relationships, but he means it this time, in a different way than before. This love is fast but it’s real. It’s not just infatuation, or, as he’s slowly realizing some of his past relationships may have been, simply desperate bids to feel loved.

“I’m glad you were my physical therapist,” he says, and Hob laughs. I’m glad that we found each other.

“Me, too.” He takes Dream’s hand, the mostly-fixed one. “And I’m glad you got out. That was really brave.”

Dream scoffs. “I do not see how being so afraid could be brave.” He had never felt brave. Only terrified.

“That’s exactly why it was brave,” Hob insists. “You were scared but you didn’t let it stop you. And you didn’t let it stop you from creating art again, either.”

Hob seems to believe it quite fervently. Perhaps… Dream can try to believe it as well. “Maybe,” he concedes.

“Definitely,” Hob says.

Dream decides not to contradict him this time. He just eats his food, and basks in Hob’s company, coming back again and again to the fact that Hob went to get his things for him, defended him. Every time he thinks about it, he feels warm inside.

And later, when he curls up with Hob in bed, he thinks he feels… good. And safe. And maybe hopeful.

—

Several weeks later.

—

Dream has taken to spending more time in Hob’s flat than his own. Though his flat feels slightly more homey with the addition of his books and other things, it’s still not quite right. And he can’t shake the habit of blocking the door when he’s home alone. He still feels safer if he’s in Hob’s space, if Hob is around.

He doesn’t realize Hob knows that until he pushes aside the shelf he’d shoved in front of the door to let Hob in one night, and Hob looks from him to the shelf and back and says, “Are you still doing that?”

“What,” Dream says, eloquently.

“I can hear you,” Hob says, with a sad little smile. “Just didn’t want to make you feel awkward about it.”

“Oh,” says Dream, suddenly embarrassed. He— he should be more confident, shouldn’t he? And yet.

“You can come to my place if you want?” Hob says. “Even if I’m not there. I’ll give you a key.”

Dream goes to turn him down out of hand, he doesn’t need Hob to do that for him—

But. He wants it.

“Hell,” Hob says, and now he’s the one who seems nervous, scrubbing a hand through his hair, “just move in if you want. I like having you there.”

“You,” Dream says slowly, “would let me move in? Already?”

Hob gathers his confidence, taking a deep breath. “Why not? If you want to.”

Why not, indeed.

The more Dream thinks about it, the more he finds he likes the thought. He does not know if he can transition his entire life into Hob’s flat, not yet. Perhaps he’ll maintain his own flat as an art studio, or as a sort of… escape route, for he does not think he can handle having to flee his own home with nowhere to go ever again. But, on a regular basis… he thinks he might like simply being with Hob. It feels easy. Is it alright for it to just feel easy?

“…Okay,” he says, at length, and Hob beams. If he had smiled like that from the beginning, Dream might not have paused to think. He would do anything for that smile.

“Okay!” Hob echoes, still with that beaming smile that makes Dream feel like he’s standing directly in the sun. “I’ll get you a key.”

Dream smiles back, and his smile feels almost as easy as Hob’s.

—

The night after moving the last of Dream’s things in—he has, in fact, maintained his flat as a studio, but has moved everything else—flush with rather too much wine, they find themselves sitting in bed, having made the dubious, intoxicated decision to break out Hob’s barely used finger paints.

Giggling drunkenly, Hob dabs some blue paint on Dream’s forehead. Dream goes cross-eyed trying to look at him.

“You are bringing your meager finger painting skills to bear to paint me now?” he says.

“Is there a more perfect canvas?” Hob traces a star shape onto Dream’s cheek. “Besides. I’m no good with the canvases. You’ve seen it.”

“Your skills lie elsewhere, I think,” Dream agrees, and Hob laughs. “But they are many. However. Since you’ve started this, you should know—” Dream’s lips twitch in amusement like he's about to start laughing over something he knows and Hob doesn’t. "This is not body paint.”

"So? It's just tempera paint, it's not dangerous."

"No," Dream agrees, trailing his fingertips across Hob's chest, "but it is going to stick in your hair."

Fuck.

Dream giggles, then slathers a whole palm full of orange paint across Hob's chest, truly coating his chest hair in it, tracing a heart pattern in its wake. God, he's a menace.

"Oh, no," says Dream, deadpan, "now you will have to soak in the bath for hours to get it all out."

Hob dips his fingertips in the blue glitter paint and smears it over Dream's temple, tangling his fingers in the longest strands of his hair. "Now you'll have to be there with me."

"Horrible," Dream says, giggling again. “How will I survive it?”

Hob draws a heart shape on his chest, then kisses him, getting paint on his mouth. It tastes horrible, but he doesn’t care, because he’s kissing Dream. It’s always a marvel.

Dream curls his hands into Hob’s hair, making it all tacky with paint. He kisses Hob’s cheek, leaving a painted mark. “I think you are a lovely canvas,” he says. “Perhaps the loveliest. Should I paint you? I think you would look gorgeous.”

The thought of Dream’s delicate fingers all over him as he makes his paintings makes Hob shiver. “Paint me all orange? I’m sure it’ll be flattering.”

“Orange, and red, and yellow,” says Dream. “The colors of the sunset.”

Hob feels unexpectedly sentimental about it. “I’d think an artist like you would be using words like ‘ochre.’”

“Unfortunately,” Dream says with utter seriousness, “finger paint does not come in ochre. Though it would certainly complement your skin tone.”

Hob laughs. Resolves to try to find finger paint in ochre just to make Dream smile.

“You’ll just have to make it with the primary colors,” he says.

Dream grins, caught immediately by the paints, and sets to painting Hob how he sees fit. Hob submits to the treatment. Tries to cope with the feeling of Dream’s fingers all over him without having to put the paints aside and initiate another activity entirely.

Later, buzzing with the feeling of Dream touching him and sticky with paint, he finds himself in the bath, Dream lying against his chest and dragging his fingers through Hob’s chest hair, leaving eddying swirls of orange paint in the water as it slowly washes off. Dream’s own hair is still clumped together with blue glitter.

“This is slower to come out than I even anticipated,” Dream observes, still lightly touching Hob’s chest. “Perhaps next time you might acquire actual body paint.”

“Maybe next time you’ll just make a painting of me instead of painting me,” Hob suggests, chuckling.

“It was your idea,” Dream reminds him.

He lays his cheek on Hob’s shoulder, smearing more of the wet paint. “This was fun. I always enjoy the time I spend with you.”

Hob runs a hand through his hair, dripping water and streams of blue. It’s worth any and all mess to see Dream smile the way he had. “Me too, love.”

“Being with you makes me want to make art again,” Dream says. His lips quirk in amusement. “And not only on you.”

It’s really all Hob had ever wanted.

“I’m glad, sweetheart,” he says, holding Dream close, “I’m so glad.”

—

A few months later.

—

Hob is so proud of Dream for deciding to exhibit some of his art again. Hob’s always thought Dream’s new art was lovely, but he knows Dream didn’t always feel the same way. And still, his new art doesn’t look the same as his old pieces. But he’s putting on an exhibition anyway.

Hob might have taken him out for an embarrassingly extravagant dinner to celebrate the announcement.

Now he’s reaping the rewards—the reward, of course, being gazing at Dream in his formal wear. He looks incredibly elegant in his glittering black suit. It had taken Hob a while to get his mind back online after first seeing him, and he’d had to dip him into a kiss before they left the flat.

Now that they’re actually at the show, he’s managing better to keep his thoughts suitable for a public space, but mainly because he’s more focused on how Dream is feeling. And on keeping any unsavory characters away, should they dare to show up.

But as they stand in the corner of the room, watching the people milling about and studying the paintings, Dream is fidgeting. Shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet, rubbing his fingers together. Hob watches him do it for a few minutes before finally saying something.

“Are you worried he’s going to show up? Because I’ll throw him out.”

“I know you will,” Dream says. Still, he keeps watching the room nervously, all the people meandering around, chatting amongst themselves. “It’s not that. It’s… what if they all hate it?”

Hob takes his hand and squeezes it. “Did you used to get nervous before?”

“Sometimes. But I knew, at least, that I felt confident in what I had made. What anyone else thought of it was of less importance.” He looks up at the painting they’re closest to, a large, cool-toned piece. “I still feel sometimes that it is not right, now.”

“Maybe it’s right for now,” Hob says, and Dream looks at him questioningly. “Didn’t most famous artists have seasons? They didn’t always work in the same style for their whole careers.”

“I suppose that’s true.” He sighs. “I am still getting used to it.”

“You also don’t have to sell them, if you don’t want to,” Hob points out. “Remove that whole bit from the equation.”

“I want to know that I can,” says Dream. “That this, as a career, is not hopeless.”

“I’ll buy them,” Hob swears.

“One, that would result in a net of zero money coming in. Two—” his lips twitch up— “you can’t afford me.”

“You’re right, I can’t. You should have tipped your physical therapist, then maybe I could.”

“I’m already sleeping with my physical therapist, now I have to pay you as well?”

“Sex can’t buy paintings, Dream,” Hob says sadly. “Well, unless...”

“Hmm. Perhaps I’ll just do a portrait of you for my next exhibition,” Dream muses. “A nude one.”

“Hell yeah,” Hob says, and Dream, evidently anticipating a no, starts giggling. “Just don’t sell it. Makes me feel weird to think of some random guy with one of my nudes above their mantlepiece.”

“One of your nudes?” Dream asks, raising an eyebrow. “There are others I’m unaware of?”

Hob just winks at him.

Dream studies him, intrigued, for another moment, tongue running over his lower lip. He’s learned what that sort of look does to Hob.

Hob swallows hard. “Could get started on it now?”

Dream chuckles. “Later. For now—” he straightens his shoulders— “I must try to sell this art.”

In the end, Dream did manage to sell a few paintings. Hob didn’t even buy any, though he was tempted to. Even without his interference, Dream left the exhibition flush with cash and, more importantly, pride.

Hob knew he hadn’t really believed he could do it: make art again in the first place, and especially not of a quality that someone would buy. But he’d done it.

He’d insisted on taking Hob out afterwards, rather than the other way around, and now Hob is shepherding a rather drunk Dream back to their flat.

“They actually liked it, Hob,” Dream says, and hiccups. He leans heavily against Hob’s side as Hob tries to maneuver them up the stairs to the flat. “The new art. They liked it.”

“I know, sweetheart, they did,” Hob agrees as he somehow gets them both through the door. He tumbles them into the bedroom and sets Dream down on the bed. Dream flops backwards, lying on his back on the mattress.

“It’s allll because of you,” he slurs, staring up at the ceiling. “You fixed…” he waves his hand vaguely.

Hob gets Dream’s shoes off, and then his own, and crawls into bed beside him. Their nice jackets and shirts crumple but he pays it no mind. “Oh, yeah? What did I fix?”

Sober Dream, he thinks, knows that this wasn’t really Hob’s doing. That no matter what Hob had contributed in terms of rehabilitating his hand, it was Dream who still had to put in the work to get back here. Dream knows that, usually.

Drunk Dream is trying to tell him something different, he thinks.

“All of it,” Dream insists. He lays his limp hand over his heart. “Me.”

“Aw, sweetheart.” Hob leans over him to kiss him. Dream hums in pleasure and twines a hand in his hair, tugging him down.

“I love you,” he mumbles, lips smearing against Hob’s. He sounds so happy. Very, very drunk still, but happy. Hob remembers the caged, nervous Dream he’d first met, who’d barely wanted to let him see his hand. Maybe he has managed to fix something, after all.

“I love you, too, baby,” he says, unexpectedly choked up. Dream cuddles him close, burying his face in Hob’s neck, worming his limbs around him so they’re all tangled up together. Hob holds him like that until he falls asleep, resigning himself to their ruined formal wear, basking in the fact that Dream is happy.

It’s all that matters to him, in the end.

[youphoriaot7]

...oh, holy shit. Did the Federation just give us their experiment plan??

GROUP #0001 - Chayanne, Leonarda, Ramón, Dapper, Bobby, Tílin, JuanaFlippa, Trumpet Department of Convivial Condition Observation

These were the first eggs. The first batch of eight. Put out as a test, a blatant test: can you keep them happy? I wasn't around at the start of the server so I'm going off of a lot of hearsay here, but from the best I can understand the eggs were supposed to be a week or so(??) long experiment to help the two languages of the server come together and spend time with each other. The happiest egg at the end of the week(??) would "win." It was somewhat competitive if I'm remembering right?? That got thrown out the window as the eggs kept running, but initially, it was more like that. (I could be so wrong. Sorry.)

Regardless, "Convivial Condition Observation": breaking this down real quick. Convivial means "(of a person) cheerful and friendly; jovial." Essentially, happiness. Condition being the...condition of either the eggs or the islanders, or both. Observation being the act watching them that the Federation is doing.

"Convivial Condition Observation," or, let's see how well you can keep these eggs happy. And, alternatively/in addition, how happy it keeps you.

GROUP #0002 - Tallulah, Pomme, ______ Department of Subsistence Monitoring

The first thing that stuck out to me with this group was the fact that Tallulah and Pomme were found in very similar ways. Pomme was stuck hidden in the wall, and Tallulah was found hidden in the attic of the adoption center. If the third egg's name really is six blanks, and stands for MEMORY as I'm suspecting it might, then that egg was also hidden—to the point where Cellbit needed coords just to find its adoption center.

"Subsistence Monitoring" breakdown: Subsistence means "the action or fact of maintaining or supporting oneself at a minimum level." Monitoring being the act of observation that the Federation is doing.

"Subsistence Monitoring," or, let's see how well these eggs can take care of themselves without any external help.

GROUP #0003 - Sunny, Pepito, Empanada Department of Permanent Surveillance

This one is a bit alarming, I'm not gonna lie? The clear tie here between the three eggs is that all three were found on Egg Island. The name of the island could possibly have something to do with it? I really don't think I can pin down a definite decision for this answer until we know what the Federation was trying to surveillance.

"Permanent Surveillance," or, let's keep an eye on...something. Egg Island? The islanders?

GROUP #0004 - Richarlyson, ___ __ Department of System Analysis

I'm going to come in straight off the bat and tell you I have no idea what they could be doing in this group. "System Analysis" is incredibly vague, and likely intentionally so.

The best guess I can make is that the system being referred to is...the eggs. If EGG A1 is supposed to fill in the five blanks of the name, then this becomes obvious: the one time we saw this egg, ElQuackity was putting them through a parkour test. A parkour course is generally used to test skills.

...if I wanted to get really headcanon-y: Richarlyson's leg is canonically misdesigned. Running a parkour course with an egg younger than Richas could be the Feds trying to sort out what the issue with Richas' leg is/was.

Additionally, in the really headcanon-y realm, Romero Richas could be a fascinating way to show system malfunction. Just saying.

"System Analysis," or, let's make sure our experiments are working properly.

[triassictriserratops]

Would you be able to elaborate on your statement about the pseudo sexual imagery of the Everlark pearl? I hadn’t really considered the pearl from that angle before and would love to hear your thoughts on it.

In response to this post So firstly, this in NO WAY takes away from the other symbolism present in the pearl. This is in ADDITION to, NOT instead of. In fact, lemme go into it all from my perspective, although I know MANY creators have expressed a lot of this much more eloquently than I will! PEARLS AS THEY RELATE TO THE CAPITOL

i always viewed the presence of the pearls on Katniss' capitol wedding dress as twofold. Firstly, it speaks of the opulence and extreme perceived wealth of the Capitol. To have a dress adorned with chains of pearls - what a symbol of luxury! I also viewed them as binding/chains. A representation of the "freedom" of the victors. The trappings of their wealth while living under the thumb of the Capitol. Their chains aren't metal, they're beautiful and delicate but still present and just as deadly. Like a gentle hand on their throats.

PEARLS AS THEY RELATE TO PEETA In direct contrast to the Capitol pearls, the pearl Peeta gives Katniss is singular. It isn't purchased, it is found. It is found in a space where Peeta has nothing else to give to Katniss, other than his life. Instead of a chain or a burden it is meant as his symbol of freedom to her, in conjunction with the locket - "I give you fully back to your family. To the people who love and need you. I let you go, but this, here is something to remember me by." (And I also love how it's representative of Peeta's ability to find pieces of beauty in the most horrific of circumstances.) KATNISS' MENTAL CONNECTION OF PEETA AND THE PEARL We also know that, during Peeta's capture, Katniss connects this pearl heavily with Peeta's life and her need to protect it. "Tomorrow morning, I'm going to agree to be the Mockingjay." I tell her. "Because you want to or because you feel forced into it?" she asks. I laugh a little. "Both, I guess. No. I want to. I have to, if it will help the rebels defeat Snow." I squeeze the pearl more tightly in my fist. "It's just...Peeta. I'm afraid if we do win, the rebels will execute him as a traitor." I slip the pearl from the drawer and spend a second sleepless night clutching it in my hand, replaying Peeta's words in my head. "Ask yourself, do you really trust the people you're working with?" I knot the pearl into the corner of the parachute, bury it deep in the recesses of the bag, as if it's Peeta's life and no one can take it away as long as I guard it. Then, later, when Peeta returns and is found to be hijacked, his essence and personhood taken from him and from HER - the Pearl becomes a symbol of the boy she lost and everything he isn't anymore. Then she finds the pearl Peeta gave me. "Is this-?" "Yeah," I say. "Made it through somehow." I don't want to talk about Peeta. One of the best things about training is, it keeps me from thinking of him. "Haymitch says he's getting better," she says. "Maybe. But he's changed," I say. I consider saying a final good-bye to Peeta, decide it would only be bad for both of us. But I do slip the pearl into the pocket of my uniform. A token of the boy with the bread. And, finally, when in the Capitol, in the last mention of the pearl, we connect it with his literal LIFE in Katniss' HANDS. (And Peeta's unwillingness to risk Katniss' life even for his freedom.) "Should we free his hands?" asks Leeg 1. "No!" Peeta growls at her, drawing his cuffs in close to his body. "No," I echo. "But I want the key." Jackson passes it over without a word. I slip it into my pants pocket, where it clicks against the pearl."

And, finally, here we go: THE PEARL AS IT RELATES TO KATNISS' SEXUAL AWAKENING It is no coincidence, to me, that the pearl is gifted from Peeta to Katniss following the events of the kiss on the beach. Katniss has now admitted to herself that Peeta holds sexual currency with her. Her body is reactive to his own and feeds a hunger in her, a flame. The giving and acceptance of the pearl can be viewed as the "tender" of that sexual currency. Katniss ALSO thinks of the pearl as it relates to Peeta in the ways that Peeta was able to make her PHYSICALLY feel. She connects it with both what she felt with him that night on the beach, and what she HOPES to feel with him upon his return. (And what she misses when he is "lost" to her.) I feel around for the parachute and slide my fingers inside until they close around the pearl. I sit back on my bed cross-legged and find myself rubbing the smooth iridescent surface of the pearl back and forth against my lips. For some reason, it's soothing. A cool kiss from the giver himself. I take the pearl from where it lives in my pocket and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena. To make myself put a name to the thing I've lost. But what's the use? It's gone. He's gone. Whatever existed between us is gone.

all I'm saying is that Peeta would literally pass out if he ever hears about how she basically kept rubbing one out in 13 to thoughts of him. (Because, let's be real. That's what the symbolism of the pearl was.) Rolling the pearl between her fingers? Kissing it to her lips? COME ON. It's so on the nose. (Or clit in this case.) 🦪😏

[ceriphea]

A Starry Night

Summary: A perfectly clear night left you to reminisce your time with Astarion. Allowing him to explore his own boundaries, he's finally made the plans to spend a night full of pleasure and joy out of his own free will with you.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav(Reader)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, little plot, oral sex, graphic language

Words: 4065

Additional: I may have just created a whole new side tumblr and satisfied my urge to write this down despite not long ago saying I wouldn't be writing anymore. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the read! I aimed to keep from descriptions of Tav so you could picture your own as best as possible. :)

Read on Ao3

The night was quiet. Much quieter than usual. Quieter anyway since Lae’zel and Shadowheart decided to put peace on their bickering and allow another to live in each other’s presence. Most of the camp had been resting as it was your turn to keep watch for the night. 

Not that there was much to look out for. If you don’t count random appearances of Mizora or vampire spawns. Most nights went by peacefully at this point. The only thing possibly interrupting a good night's rest were dunkards stumbling by the little camp your group had settled down in. 

Your eyes were settled on the sky, clear as ever. Every single star was visible to your eyes and it brought a small smile across your lips. It reminded you of your first night with Astarion. 

The two of you had started out as a fling. Something to make your situation a little more passable. After all, who didn’t enjoy good sex? However as time progressed and the more nights the two of you had spent together, the more the simple fun of having sex turned into feelings for another. It came easier for you than for the vampire. 

Astarion was troubled, damaged from the years of torture and pain he had endured. The closer you became, the more you learned about his trauma. And that was how you learned that Astarion had not enjoyed himself during sex for a long time. Your initial reaction was hurt. Mainly because of your own trauma that you carry with yourself as well as the fact that you’d like to think you’d do well enough to please your partners. Though after the initial reaction you understood. For him sex had always been a technique for his victims. A mere measure to bait people into aiding to his will. And he did in fact enjoy what you two had just the drive was not what it was meant to be. 

It was then, when you established your relationship with Astarion, showing him you cared about him beyond sex, that you told Astarion you wouldn’t have sex until he felt ready for enjoying it for the act that it is between two people that like each other. Not because he felt like he needed to just for the sake of it. To get an advantage out of it.

There were many times he had tried getting it on with you when you offered him your neck. He tried because he felt like he owed you for allowing him to drink off of you. However each time you turned him down for him to underline your point and make him understand he didn’t need to do something just to pay you back. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to have sex with him, you loved having him since he had been your best partner. You just wanted him to stop feeling like he was forced to have sex with no real meaning to him.

He understood after a while and now it had been a good amount of time since the last time you slept together. You couldn’t even recall how long exactly. Not that your mind was allowed to drift any further as the elf in question settled down to sit beside you.

“Pardon me, my love but I felt like my presence was required here,” Astarion said playfully, his red orbs gazing at you intently. Some of your thoughts must have slipped through to him thanks to that worm inside of your head. There was never any telling which thoughts you’d get to keep to yourself and which would be transferred over your illithid connection.

“Oh, did you now?” you inquired with a quirked brow aimed at him, trying to play it off like you haven’t been thinking all about him.

“Your thoughts are louder than you think, darling. It’s a surprise you haven’t woken up anyone else. Or perhaps they are now having sweet dreams about me,” he shrugged with a smirk, not once did his eyes leave yours. A slight blush crept upon your cheeks, fearing he heard more than you had expected. Not that it was anything to be ashamed of really but still, sometimes you liked to keep your thoughts to yourself.

“You wish,” scoffing, you rolled your eyes and let your eyes drift back to the sky again. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Astarion standing back up, his hand coming into your sight, an offer to help you up. “Come, I’d like to show you something.”

Once again your eyes met his before darting to his hand and back to his eyes. You were meant to keep watch and not exactly meant to go away from your post. And if you went with Astarion it could range anything from a few minutes to hours. As if he read your mind once again, the pale elf clicked his tongue and almost pushed his hand into your face.

“Come, no one is going to die. We’ll only be gone… shortly.” You knew he was full of shit but there was nothing else you could say against him. Finally placing your hand in his, Astarion pulled you to your feet. Instead of letting you go however, he pulled you in flush against him and pressed a peck to your lips. “There you go, now come on.” 

Letting go of your hand, the vampire then started leading the way away from camp. It wasn’t exactly far but far enough to barely see the campfire flickering. The air here was slightly clearer, the streets now empty. It was rather late at night, anyone awake at this time was either at a tavern or in their homes. 

“So where exactly are you taking me?” you asked, following your lover along. “If I tell you that would ruin the surprise. Now shush, we’re almost there.” A low chuckle escaped his throat. It was not exactly strange for him to have this sort of behavior, however something about him on this particular night just told you that he had something up his sleeve. 

A minute or two later the two of you had arrived at a house, empty by the looks of it but kept well in shape. Astarions slight fingers worked on the lock before opening up the door and inviting you in as if it was his very own house. Did you just let him break into a random home without any complaint? Yes, you did. In many views the two of you had shared your perspectives and breaking into places was a common ground. Whether the group needed loot or your information was in it. 

You figured that Astarion perhaps found some hidden treasure in here and wanted to reserve it for just you and him. It wouldn’t be the first time he had chosen to keep some valuables from the group in order to fend for you and him. But once you had entered the house, the elf swiftly moved behind you and chose to cover your eyes with his hands. You could feel his mouth near your ear by his warm breath first before he whispered, “Now walk as I tell you and keep those pretty eyes closed until I tell you to open them.”

Something about the way he spoke sent a tingle through your stomach and into your core. Perhaps it was a bit of deprivation of intimacy that made any sensual act like this even more exciting to you. 

You trusted him with every single step, letting him guide you through the house that couldn’t be any quieter. Standing still for a moment, you heard him opening another door before your path continued shortly before you came to a final stop. “Open your eyes, my love,” his last words drew out in a seductive tone while his hands removed from your eyes. Opening them, you blinked a few times to adjust to the lighting in the room which was merely the night sky and the moon shining in through a wide set of windows. 

Before you displayed a master bedroom, decorated neatly with a bed bigger than you’ve seen in the past few years of your adventures. This wasn’t just some treasure he had found, this was more. And the thought of it alone sent a contraction of urgency through your core, leaving a damp feeling in your pants. Oh, how weak you were. You didn’t dare speak, still taking in the room as Astarion came into view, a knowing smirk plastered on his face.

“What do you think, dear?” his voice was merely above a whisper while his eyes burned into yours. Slowly Astarion inched closer, close enough to wrap one of his arms around your lower back, pulling you flush against his chest. Even if you wouldn’t say anything, your hardened nipples pressing through your thin linen shirt against his chest would tell him everything.

“Who have you bribed to get in here?” you teased, not wanting to give into him too quickly. He knew how much you wanted him, you didn’t need to tell him. 

“There was this drunk dwarf tumbling through the streets. I may have convinced him that this is in fact not his home. And by the looks of it, it may very well not be. Not for tonight anyway,” of course Astarion had to respond in a snarky manner just before his voice turned seductive again. You knew where this was going. And this time around, you weren’t going to stop him. All his last attempts had been whenever it wasn’t really convenient, mostly out in the open. This time he had taken the effort to find a nice and comfortable bed, a place of warmth. 

“But you and I both know we aren’t here to talk about such unimportant matters. Rather we are here because I want to devour you,” he started, his voice dangerously low while his eyes darkened in desire, “I want to love on you. Every single inch of you.”

He had barely touched you and yet your cunt was getting drenched in arousal by the second. It had been a while since Astarion voiced his desires for you in this way and oh, it was a turn on. The room immediately felt a dozen degrees hotter as your lips crashed against Astarions, moving in a passionate pattern while his hand that was initially resting along your waist from being wrapped around you, moved down to cup your ass. One of your hands slid up his chest and further up until it was settled on the back of his head, grasping a handful of his hair while the vampire deepened the kiss. A small moan escaped your lips when the hand on your ass gave you a firm squeeze. You were almost sure that were his fingers to wander further inward and to your core, he could feel your wetness through your linen pants.

Though instead of wandering to your core, his hand wandered to the back of your thigh, his other hand joining on the other thigh before he picked you up. Both your legs immediately wrapped around his waist. Within a few quick strides Astarion carried you over to the bed and more or less dropped you onto the soft sheets. 

Once more your lips met in a matter of passion and lust while the vampires hands now made their way to explore your body, tugging at your shirt in order to remove your clothing from your body. You were just about to interrupt the kiss and stop his wandering hands for a moment in order to ask him if he was certain this was what he wanted. That’s when your tadpoles connected and he let you know that this was something he wanted out of his own free will. Something he wanted to enjoy. 

And therefore you only deepened the kiss, allowing your own hands to wander his body now, tugging at his very own shirt and pulling it over his head. Astarion used that moment to remove your shirt as well just before his mouth latched back onto you. This time however his lips met your collarbone, actively leaving out your neck. He did his best kissing your skin and nibbling at you without letting his teeth graze your skin. Your eyes closed as the vampire moved to devour you just as he had announced before. 

Starting at your collarbone, his lips traveled down towards your breasts. While his hands cupped your round mounds, his tongue darted out tracing a wet line from the top of your breast to your hardened nipple and around it before his lips closed down on the sensitive nub providing it with a short sense of suction before letting his normal teeth tease for a moment. Then he moved on to do the exact same thing to your other breast. You couldn’t help but moan in pleasure, indecisive whether you wanted to close your eyes and simply enjoy the feeling or whether you wanted to watch him with his intense stare on you, aching to give you the pleasure he feels you deserve. 

The choice came easy as your eyes automatically closed the second his lips started traveling further south past your navel and to the hem of your pants. Elegant fingers slipped right beneath the hem, taking your underwear with them as Astarion removed your pants in one go, leaving you entirely bare in front of him. 

Only now that a slight breeze of air met your core, you realized just how wet you were. It was a surprise you hadn’t completely drenched your pants between your legs. Taking one of your ankles in hand, Astarion began peppering kisses all along the inside of your leg, positioning your leg angled on the bed and letting his lips travel until he almost met your core. Then he moved onto the other leg, once again mirroring the exact same motions which now had you with your legs spread and Astarions head lingering right in front of your raging hot core. “I want you to look at me while I feast on that delicious cunt of yours,” his voice was even lower now, arousal and hunger clouding his own senses while his hot breath fanned against your wetness. Just as he ordered you opened your eyes and glanced down at the elf between your legs. He looked like he had been starving for weeks and had the first real meal in front of him. And just like that he settled in and wrapped his arms around your thighs to hold you in place as his tongue darted out between your folds, licking a long stripe up to your pulsating clit. 

Once there his tongue ran slow circles around it. Once, twice and then his lips closed around the sensitive nub. He varied the pressure of his suction, earning several moans from you while it became increasingly more difficult not to roll your eyes into the back of your head and crumble under the pleasure you were feeling. Eventually he released your clit only to drag his tongue back through your folds, working you in all your favorite patterns. It didn’t take particularly long until you could feel your orgasm building up, blame it on the amount of time it had been since the two of you had sex. 

Astarion could tell you were getting close, his thumb finding your clit to rub circles on it while his tongue kept swirling around your folds as well as penetrating your core to pleasure those sweet spots inside of you. Without warning your vision blurred while your insides contracted, attempting to clench around a cock yet being left empty while your orgasm rushed through you. 

The vampire consumed every drop of your cum, working you through your orgasm until your hips stopped twitching. Your chest was heaving from your previous release, eyes once again meeting Astarion when he slowly withdrew himself from you if only to get rid of the rest of his clothing. His erection was standing tall and proud, precum smeared all across his tip. You licked your lips at the view. He moved in closer until he was leaning above you, almost getting into position. However you wanted to return the favor as much as you were dying to feel him inside of you. Your first thought was to just toss him over and take the upper hand, however this was all about giving him the choice. So you opted to give him the choice once more. 

Before he had lined himself up at your entrance, you covered yourself with a hand and gazed straight into his eyes as he met yours with confusion. “May I suck you off?” 

To others it may have seemed like a stupid thing to ask, however you wanted him to know he had all the freedom in the world to choose what he wanted. Astarion remained confused for a second or two more before capturing himself and nodding. “Of course darling, I’d love nothing more than to feel those sweet and luscious lips around my cock.”

His voice was almost like a purr as he removed himself from above you and settled down on the bed, leaned up against the headpost while you scrambled up to position yourself between his legs. Your core was still pulsating from your release or was it the need of being filled by that long and thick shaft that stood tall and proud in front of your face? 

One soft hand wrapped around his shaft, giving it a pump or two as your lips traced kisses along his thighs until they settled at his balls, traveling up the length of him slowly until you reached his tip. Your hand settled at the base of his shaft, holding him in place now while your tongue slowly swirled around his tip, earning low moans from the vampire. You could tell he was less used to this sort of act as his eyes darted between arousal and uncertainty. With help of your tadpole you let him know that he was allowed to stop you whenever he felt like he needed to. 

Your lips wrapped around his tip all the while your tongue still swirled around him. Keeping the pace slow, you slowly started taking him more into your mouth, relaxing your throat in order to take him as much as your body would allow. His breath hitched within his throat, chest heaving with pleasure while his eyes never left yours. Picking up the pace, your head started bobbing along his length, using the hand at the base of his cock to stroke whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth. 

It wasn’t long however until Astarion gently pulled you off of his cock by your hair. His eyes had an apologetic touch within them before he spoke. “I need to have you, my love,” he spoke in an urgency. You understood and you wanted him to be in full control. “And I need you,” you responded with a gentle smile as you leaned up to capture his lips with yours. Your release still lingered on his lips, shooting another wave of heat right through to your core. 

Astarion didn’t waste time deepening the kiss, easily spinning the two of you around in order to have you pinned beneath him again. With ease he settled between your legs, allowing his length to slide along your wetness a couple of times before reaching between you in order to line himself up with your entrance. 

With one long push the vampire filled you with his entire length, stretching your insides deliciously. A gasp left your mouth at the fullness you had missed all this time. Astarion couldn’t keep himself from letting out a shaky breath either. He remained still within you for a moment or two, simply relishing in the feeling of your insides contracting around him over and over as your insides adjusted to the feeling of him inside of you.

“Please, fuck me…” you whispered against his lips, unable to take the stillness of him inside you any longer. Without any further notice, he withdrew himself almost entirely from you only to slide his entire length into you again. He kept on repeating the motion until he had picked up a moderate pace, each thrust earning a moan from you. You could tell it was different. Astarion had always been a rough lover. Fast and hard thrusts were his thing. Just a small glimpse at his face told you the whole story. Of how he was taking it slow in order to find his pleasure, his desire for this. His lips were kissing along your collarbone again, moving up to your neck until he hesitated.

Noticing the hesitation, your hand came up to the back of his head, bringing him in closer to your neck. You knew exactly what he was getting at. Or why he was hesitating. “Do it,” you moaned softly with his next thrust and that was all the confirmation he needed. His teeth immediately dug into the soft skin of your neck, the stinging pain feeling yet so pleasurable. 

As he was drinking from you, Astarion had picked up his pace, his thrusts becoming rougher and quicker. At this point he barely pulled even halfway out before his cock slammed back into you, brushing past all the good spots. Your moans picked up in volume, the mixed feeling of your cunt being pounded while your neck was being fed on combined an amount of pleasure you couldn’t even describe. 

Astarion felt it too, the pleasure of the entire situation, how tasting your blood made his cock turn indefinitely harder, how your cunt clenched and your thighs quivered with each of his thrusts. And he knew that all of this was because he wanted it. Not because he had to gain advantage for something or to manipulate someone. He released your throat for a moment, the blood running down your neck and dripping onto the pillow beneath you, if only to moan out your name, “Tav..” he grunted, knowing his release was near. Slyly lifting your legs a little over his waist, you caused his cock to change the angle within you, brushing right past your g-spot and close to hitting your cervix with every thrust.

“Astarion..” you moaned in return, feeling your own release coming in closer. His head lifted from your neck, wanting to see your face and he hooked his arms underneath your knees and essentially lifted you up higher as his hips pounded against you. The sound of skin slapping against skin as well as both of your moans echoed throughout the room. It only took one more thrust and you were sent over the edge. Your thighs quivered against his hold, hips twitching and insides clenching wildly as your second orgasm of the night rushed through you. It felt like you lost control over your body as you were not able to control a single movement.

Seeing your pleasure filled self, Astarion pushed himself deep inside of you, his body coming to rest flush against you as his release emptied all the way inside you, his own hips stuttering with just how much he came. 

Once he emptied himself entirely and both your bodies calmed from the intensity of your orgasms, he pulled his member out and settled on the non-bloody side of the bed, pulling you into his tight embrace.

“That was marvelous, darling…” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, not minding the blood remaining at the corners of his mouth. “Thank you.”

His voice was sincere and you knew this was it. He found his control. His own will. The one thing you had been working on with him. “Not for this, my beloved.” You countered softly, finding his lips for a kiss. You stopped caring for the taste of blood a long time ago. 

The two of you had laid together, calming from your highs for a while longer. However this was not the end of the night just yet. You lost count of just how many times the two of you had sex that night. All you knew was that your shift of staying guard for the camp was long forgotten.