#like imagine being that kind of human being

[chaosartisan]

You all are so pro mental illness until they forget to take their medication.

You all are so pro mental illness until they start having delusions.

You all are so pro mental illness until they develop brain fog.

You all are so pro mental illness until they start forgetting important dates.

You all are so pro mental illness until they identify neuro divergent traits that you have.

You all are so pro mental illness until they start expressing their struggles.

You all are so pro mental illness until someone can't afford to go to therapy.

You all are so pro mental illness until someone can't afford their medication.

You all are so pro mental illness until it's something that comes attached with a physical health condition or deformity.

You all are so pro mental illness until it comes to advocating for better systems.

You all are so pro mental illness until your loved one becomes mentally ill.

You all are so pro mental illness until they need your help.

You all are so pro mental illness until it comes to doing anything other than saying "I'm pro mental illness."

yall are pro mental illness until they hallucinate

yall are pro mental illness until they dissociate

yall are pro mental illness until they self-isolate

yall are pro mental illness until they're paranoid

yall are pro mental illness until they split

yall are pro mental illness until it's too Scary for your comparatively neurotypical brain to handle

[chronicdelusionistsart]

So I have been watching Danny Phantom for the first time ever with my friends and I'd kind of previously known about its reputation as a show whose fanbase dives a lot more into the lore than the show is willing to. And I guess I hadn't really understood why until now (I just finished Season 2!). Here's my sort of rambling thoughts on it.

Danny Phantom isn't a show about the horror of ghosts and the dead coexisting in the human realm. It's a show about dropping the most out of pocket lore implications you can imagine on people who in turn say things that would kill a therapist dead equally out of pocket, and then neither are addressed but the watcher has to live with the ghost of the plot that is right behind them but they can't turn around.

DP is a little hit and miss in places, but the very thing that drives people nuts about it is actually I think maybe its greatest strength: it really pulls off show, don't tell effectively. How much of that is intentional is up for debate, but the best episodes kinda leave you wondering, or sputtering like "UH, HEY, BACK UP - HEY BACK UP AND UNPACK THAT -" Is Danny's human body technically alive somehow, or is he a walking corpse? Does Danny have a door in the Ghost Zone? Were Vlad's clones feeling and sentient as they melted into ectoplasm, despite Danny's guess that they weren't? What does it say about Danny that he still erased his parents' memories after finding out they'd accept him as he is?

I think the genius of not answering these questions directly is that it's both funnier AND scarier not to. We can laugh about how fucked up it is and kinda hold our heads like "bro.... did they really just imply that, holy shiiiiiit", and that's really consistent with the emotional core of the show as this knife's-edge dance between teen comedy and horror superhero. Fully explaining the lore or being more direct about how the information is conveyed by and to the characters tips that balance and changes the show into something else, for better or for worse. And I really earnestly like it as it is, even if it's very of its time (sexism.......)! It's a really fun show with some depth to it.

Anyway, I can't wait to watch season 3! I sure hope all these wonderful qualities I like about it hold up!

[incognit0slut]

Permanent attachment

in which you’re far too comfortable to move from Spencer’s lap, and he doesn’t mind carrying you around

content: fluff, 1.7k, established relationship, lots of kissing, sex talk, kinda fade-to-black smut, reader being very clingy, and spencer’s tummy (my fav) a/n: i once told @mandarinmoons that i wanted to climb the man and not even in a sexual way and she said “like a koala?” and to that i answered YES! self-indulgent fics are the best

Spencer smells nice. Like, annoyingly nice. And it’s not the kind of nice that’s vaguely pleasant. No, this is the kind that settles into your bones. A mix of soap and something uniquely him that you can't quite name but would probably pay an unreasonable amount to bottle up.

Now that sounds like a dream. Imagine Spencer in a bottle, spritzed onto your neck, lingering on your skin. Imagine a personal cloud of him following you everywhere, with top notes of freshly brewed coffee and a base note of comfort that leaves you no choice but to lean in just a bit closer. You shift on his lap, pretending to get comfortable, but really, it's because you want to catch another whiff.

Your boyfriend catches you mid-inhale. "Comfortable?"

You don’t even bother pretending to be embarrassed. Who cares if he knows you’re borderline obsessed? Who wouldn’t be? He’s smart, handsome, and smells like heaven bottled in human form. So instead of pulling away, you double down, pressing your nose right into the curve of his neck as your answer.

"I'm starting to think you might be a little attached.”

You sigh against his skin, “Might be? Spencer, I'm practically grafted onto you at this point. You better get used to it."

A hand runs up your spine. “Not that I’m complaining, but my legs might actually fall asleep if I don’t get up soon.”

“So dramatic,” you tease, smiling as you press a soft kiss to his jaw. The subtle scrape of his stubble tickles your lips.

“I don’t think you’ve moved an inch in the past hour.”

“I don’t even want to move an inch,” you murmur against his cheek. "I just want to stay like this. Forever. If I could just crawl under your skin and stay there, that would be perfect.”

Spencer laughs softly, the sound rumbling under your lips. You feel the warmth of his smile as he tilts his head toward you. “That sounds sweet yet incredibly creepy.”

“You know what I mean!” You slide your arms around him, weaving them across his shoulders. “I just… I want to—ugh, I don't know… squeeze you so tight you’d become part of me? Like an extension of my arm or something."

“That definitely sounds less creepy.”

“Shut up.” Your lips trace the rough scratch of his jaw, brushing along the curve until you reach the corner of his mouth. "Don’t you want someone permanently glued to you?"

“You’re definitely making a case for it.”

“Oh I’d climb you if I had to.”

His hand slides up to cup the back of your neck. “Is this where I find out you’re secretly a koala this whole time?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum against his lips, “and you’re my tall, handsome tree.”

His laughter vibrates against your mouth, and you let yourself melt into him, breathing in that comforting scent you’ve grown addicted to. You love him so much. You love him too much that your heart feels like it’s stretching to make room for all of it.

When he finally pulls back, you can’t resist reaching up to smooth your thumb over his bottom lip. “See? Permanent attachment.”

His own thumb caresses the back of your neck in lazy strokes. You're practically dissolving into him.

"I don’t have much of a choice, do I?" The tip of your nose brushes against his as you shake your head. He steals another quick peck from your lips. "I really do need to get up though.”

You pout immediately. “Why?“

“Because my throat is actually starting to feel a little dry. I could use some water.”

“Water is overrated. Stay.”

“Honey,” he croons softly, his eyes squinting with that familiar crinkle at the corners. He thinks you’re cute when you’re clingy. “The kitchen is only ten feet away.”

“Ten feet too far. Do you know the kind of emotional damage I’ll suffer if we’re apart for too long?”

“So dramatic,” he mocks back, planting a kiss on your jaw, your cheek, and you giggle when his mouth lands on the skin between your ear and your neck. “All I’m asking for is ten feet. I promise I’ll be quick.”

“I might wither away from loneliness by the time you get back.”

You feel the ghost of his smile against your skin. “I’ll be back before you even have a chance to miss me.”

“I miss you already,” you sigh when he gently nips at the soft flesh of your neck. “Maybe you should just take me with you.”

You’re mostly bluffing, half-expecting him to laugh it off because Spencer has never actually carried you before. Not that you’ve ever minded—it’s not exactly the first thing you’d expect from him. But before you can even process it, he shifts beneath you, sliding one arm under your knee and the other around your back with surprising confidence.

And just like that, the floor seems miles away as he lifts you up.

“Wait! Wait!” you laugh, clutching at his shoulders. "Spencer!"

“I thought you wanted to come along."

“I didn’t think you’d actually carry me!”

You’re met with his steady grip, and to your surprise, he’s not struggling in the slightest. Apparently, those arms are stronger than you’d given him credit for, and it’s… well, very, very attractive. He strides confidently across the apartment, and you can’t help but let out an impressed, slightly flustered, “Okay, this is actually kind of hot.”

The corners of his lips twitch upward, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I did not know you were strong enough to do this,” you comment, then a thought sneaks into your mind, “Do you think we can try this position in the bedroom?”

He looks surprised and mildly amused. “Really? While standing?”

You loop your arms tighter around his neck. “You seem perfectly capable.”

“Wouldn’t I be doing all the work?”

“I thought you liked doing all the work.”

His chest presses against yours as he lets out another laugh. “If by that you mean spoil you, then yes, I do,” he says, casting a quick glance around the room. “Can I sit you on the counter, or are you planning to keep hanging on to me?”

“Tempting, but you can put me on the counter.”

With a gentle ease, he lifts you just slightly higher and sets you down on the cool countertop. “I can still carry you around if that’s what you want.”

“I know,” you reply, reaching up to brush a stray lock of curls from his face. “I don’t want to tire you out.”

“You’re not tiring me out,” he assures you as he reaches up to grab a glass from the top shelf, arm stretching just enough to give you a teasing glimpse of his soft stomach.

You can’t help yourself. You reach over and splay your hands over that warm skin, feeling the faint tickle of the fine hair scattered down his belly that disappears into his waistband. He doesn’t flinch—he’s long used to your hands finding their way to him like this—but he does cast a sidelong look in your direction. Behave.

If he’s expecting you to follow some sense of decorum, he should know better by now. You give his stomach a gentle, almost smug pat, and shakes his head as he moves to pour himself water.

“What do you want to do after this?” he asks, glancing back at you over his shoulder. You don’t give him an immediate answer, but he’s already suggesting a few ideas for the rest of the evening.

You can’t even pretend to pay attention. Is it normal to be this obsessed with your boyfriend? Because at this point, your focus isn’t even on the words coming out of his mouth. Something about a documentary, maybe. He’s probably rattling off the details right now, but you’re entirely distracted, your eyes shamelessly zooming in on the way his forearm flexes as he holds the glass. Even the soft hair dusting over his skin is doing things to you.

He catches your blatant stare and looks at you over the rim of his glass.

“What?”

“You are so sexy.”

He almost chokes on his water. The glass clatters against the countertop as he sputters, “What has gotten into you today?”

Probably ovulation. But you simply shrug, legs swinging idly against the cabinets beneath you. “I just love you.”

The answer is simple. Words spoken with all the casual sincerity you feel, but it’s enough to melt his astonishment into affection as he strides over and slips between your thighs.

“You just love me?”

“Yeah,” you reply softly, reaching up to brush over the delicious roughness of his stubble. “Like a ridiculous amount. Probably too much.”

His heart is swelling, so full it feels like it’s about to burst. “I love you too.”

“That’s it?”

You watch as his nose twitches, the smallest hint of a smile playing at his lips before he sighs, “I love you so much, angel."

"I think you can do better than that."

He huffs a chuckle, "I love you too much," he tries again, "more than I even know what to do with."

You smile in satisfaction, a little triumphant over his exaggeration. You’ve taught him well. “Say it again.”

The wide expanse of his palms settles on your waist.

“I am madly,” he presses a kiss to your cheek, “deeply,” another finds its way to your jaw, “hopelessly,” he murmurs as he grows even closer to your lips, “in love,” he’s a breath away from yours, “with you.”

The space between you shrinks to nothing. You swallow his last words, letting them dissolve on your tongue like the sweetest confection. What begins as a delicate melding of warmth and breath quickly intensifies, as though he’s determined to steal every bit of air from your lungs. And before you know it, his hands are sliding under you.

A surprised squeal escapes your lips as he lifts your weight, and an even louder gasp follows when he carries you toward the bedroom.

You know exactly what he plans to do for the rest of the evening.

[gncrevan]

one: the joke here might be that, despite what a lot of people are claiming in the notes, reading (and imagining the things you read) by definition is a form of dissociation, specifically derealization, because dissociation is in fact a very normal human thing we all do constantly and doesn't just mean the pathological kind, so if that's the intention of the og tweet, that's pretty funny to me personally

two: reading a lot is not a sign of pathological dissociation, but like anything it can be a way to escape a bad situation and can become maladaptive. in most cases it doesn't, so being a voracious reader as a child doesn't mean you're developing a dissociative disorder, but in my case the way i engaged with fictional stories actually was very much related to that, because i am Special and Different, so that's also very funny to me personally

three: i actually completely agree with what brandy is saying here, but i wanna reiterate that pathologizing dissociation isn't doing anything for anyone, we don't need people thinking they're mentally ill every time they catch their brain doing a very normal and common thing. we don't need dissociation to be a scary psychiatric buzzword, it's far more valuable to realize that pathology isn't this clear dividing line but that all the potential for human experience is encompassed in every single person, that we are far more alike than different, and it would do us well As A Society to relate more to and empathize more with people with mythologized and stigmatized mental disorders

four: reading is a trauma symptom 🤭

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon Commission for anon

Request: something with an orc and a female human? Something fantasy-based, maybe human owns a tavern? I'd be fine with whatever you thought worked though!

A/N: Sorry this is kind of late, life is hectic. Enjoy!

Kissing an orc

Orc x fem!reader || accidental exhibitionism, oral sex, groping

You are kneading the bread for the next day when the knock on the door startles you. “Your favorite orc is hereeeee,” your annoying naga helper sing-songs to you. You shush them in your way to the door, signaling them to stop or you’ll kill them. They chuckle and disappear to the front, a broom already on their hands. Good, at least they would stop being a little shit while they do the tavern cleaning.

You open the door and have to swallow a gasp. It doesn’t matter how many times you look at him, it always amazes you how fucking beautiful he is. All giant, towering over you, with his beautiful olive skin and big tusks framing his appetizing mouth. Good goddess you’d give all your gold to be able to kiss him at least once to know how that mouth would feel against yours.

“Hi- hi,” you stutter. You chastise yourself, trying to act composed, but suddenly your skin feels too hot and your breathing is pushing your boobs a bit too forward.

“What was all that about? Am I your favorite orc? Do you know more orcs?” He looks so confused and adorable you want to pinch his cheek, but also kiss him senseless.

You look at him completely dumbfounded. “Are you serious?”

“Yes?” You aren’t sure if it’s a question or an affirmative.

You take a deep breath, thinking about all the possible possibilities of what you are about to do, but you are so fucking tired. You want to know, and if it goes wrong, you can always change hunters and find a new person or monster to bring you fresh meat for your tavern every day, right? Yeah. You can probably find somebody else, but you can’t wait more time to know how do his lips taste.

You stare into his beautiful dark eyes and answer truthfully: “Of course you are my favorite orc, I’ve been trying to ask you out for months.”

“What?” He looks so surprised you want to laugh, but the nervousness in your stomach prevents you to do anything. “But, but… I asked and you didn’t… you didn’t…” He takes a deep breath and starts again. “I asked you to meet me for breakfast and you said you had to work. I asked you if you wanted coffee and said you had to work.” As soon as he says that, you can remember a few other times he asked you for coffee or lunch or some snack and you always refused because you thought he did it just because he was nice, not because he was interested. Were you really that obvious?

You look at him, your face mirroring his surprise. “Oh.”

“You are just too cute for your own good, damn it.” He doesn’t wait for your answer before his hands are cupping your face and he’s kissing you breathless. “We could have been doing this for a long time if you just said so,” he mumbles against your lips, kissing you again.

Kissing an orc is even better than you imagined. His tusks frame your mouth perfectly and his lips are way softer than expected. He is perfect and you can’t even comprehend what he’s doing when he crouches and grabs your ass, pulling you up and walking inside, the deer he caught today left there, forgotten.

He moves around the kitchen like he owns it, and before you know it your ass is over a table and he’s kissing your neck, making goosebumps erupt on your skin. His hands are everywhere, tracing the edge of your corset, caressing your back and groping your ass over the skirt of your dress. His hands fit under the skirt and he goes up and up until his hand is over your center and you are panting, his mouth hot against your pulse point as he touches your vulnerable place.

He caresses your legs over your underpants and asks: “Can I?” His lips move against your neck when he talks and you have to suppress a tremor.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chant, already pulling the skirt of your dress up to your waist as he pulls down your underpants, kissing your leg along the way.

“Have somebody ever…?” He doesn’t have to say it, you know what he means. You aren’t a blushing virgin, but you never had enough trust in anyone to let them… kiss you there.

“I never… Nobody ever… Not there,” you try to explain.

He gets it instantly, kissing your mouth until your brain is far away from your worries and his dexterous fingers find your pearl, flickering it and making you bite down on his lip. He groans and you giggle against his lips, he kneels on the floor in front of you and goes for it.

You moan very loudly as inexplicably pleasure breaks through your body, making you throw your head back and arch your back in an arch that leaves your boobs about to spill over your corset. You are sure it looks sinful from his position, but when you open your eyes the only thing you see is his face still buried between your legs, your thighs pressing against the sides of his head so strongly you are worried you are going to hurt him, but his pleased sounds are good enough to make you groan again.

You cover your mouth to avoid screaming his name as his tongue does wonders around your lucky pearl, his tusks framing your pussy in a way that leaves you breathless and ready for more at the same time. It’s wonderful and marvelous and all the adjectives you can’t even comprehend as he sucks and licks your hot center, dragging all kinds of sounds out of you.

You’ve never felt that kind of pleasure, and as it starts to peak, you don’t know what to do with all of it. You grab his hair and pull, making him grunt as his fingers dig into your hips where he’s holding you still. You are messing up his braid, but you can’t care about it as he keeps licking and fucking you with his tongue. It’s the most intense experience of your life and when the pleasure hits its peak, you have to bite down on your hand to avoid the cry that was about to leave your mouth.

He licks you through it, until your legs are trembling around his head and your pussy is pulsating in time with your heartbeat. He doesn’t stop there, he keeps milking all the pleasure out of you with such frantic need that you can’t do anything but match it. When your second orgasm hits you, the first one was still there, joining in the middle in the biggest wave of pleasure you’ve ever felt.

He kisses your pussy and your highs, not trying to make you untie your legs from around his head. His tender caresses are a contrast with the frantic devouring he just did, but it’s the best kind of contrast. You are still breathing hard and he’s still on the floor in front of you licking you clean when the door to the tavern opens with a screech.

“Dude! That’s where I make the bread!” The annoying naga screams as he opens the door just in time to see him kissing your pussy one last time.

[keferon]

regarding the whole thing where jazz doesn't realize prowl's whole self is a living, feeling being... the cross-cultural miscommunication potential is also how jazz and prowl could end up in a confusing situationship. Like Jazz would probably think nothing of being super touchy, and have zero respect for personal space, because to him it's *not* touch or personal space! a pilot making his mecha hang all over another pilot's mecha is just normal military misuse-of-equipment horseplay!

(like making your mecha slap another guy's mecha on its butt is solidly funny joke territory, not sexual harrassment. if we humans had mechas in real life, this is the kind of shit the pilots would constantly be doing, lbr)

So you end up with a scenario where Prowl's making friends with this weird new guy who's always getting very close, and who is touching him a lot, and it all comes across as very intimate and flirtatious, and maybe even scandalous. Except Jazz never actually asks him out or makes a real move, and Prowl is going through all the stages of gay panic and confusion.

Just Jazz consytantly unknowingly being this huge heartbreaker tease, and Prowl is just s u f f e r i n g.

--

Imagine the accidental flirting, too! Like Jazz is super impressed by this Prowl guy's mecha, so he's trying to talk shop with the other pilot (or so he thinks).

Jazz: "Wow, that build you have is great! Really impressive detailing. Who did the work?"

Prowl, well-known cold construct, confused and oddly flattered: "Um, a factory in Petrex did my construction?"

Jazz, who has never heard of Petrex but also failed geography in high school, trying not to look dumb in front of this impressive 'pilot': "Oh, Petrex, sure! Well, they did a great job!"

Prowl, now totally convinced this guy is hitting on him, flustered: "Th--thanks?"

Jazz, who would like to have a competent partner to fight evil aliens, decides he needs to poach this pilot to work with him. So he slings his mecha's arm around the other mecha's shoulder, leans in real close: "You know, you and I would make a great team!"

Prowl: *crashes from full blown gay panic*

--

Sorry for spamming your ask box with so much brain rot but holy shit do I love all the potential of the AU you came up with, I can't stop thinking about it, I had to shake some of these ideas out of my brain to share!

Yes yes ABSOLUTELY YES

Also the fact that for pilots opening the chest plates is the same as open a door but for Cybertronians it means MARRY ME RIGHT NOW ahahahaha

(Or Amica endure too. But point stands hehe it's very intimate gesture)

[animeshotsh]

You what? | Viktor x Jayce x Kid!Reader | Arcane ¤

Summary: Viktor knows Jayce sometimes does things without thinking, but this? This goes beyond his own limits.

Warnings: Mentions of trauma - Kid!Reader - Viktor and Jayce are a couple - OFF CANON EVENTS - Human traffic - GN Reader - PLATONIC - grammar mistakes -

When Viktor enters on monday morning into the lab with his coffee in hand he expects nothing but silence, after all he is here before Jayce most mornings.

But he stops in his tracks when he hears Jayce's voice, maybe sounding less...well less like him. He sounds like he is talking to a small animal. It reminds him on how he uses to talk to Rio when he was a kid.

Pushing memories aside Viktor retakes his way and goes deeper into the lab, where their experiments are.

And oh, if his illness did not kill him as most doctors had said then this would do it.

Jayce, using one of his experiments showing it to a kid who seems to be as suprised as any kid would be and perphas gives the most honest reactions to his inventions.

But wait, go back.

Jayce and a kid.

His cane hits the floor in suprise and he ends being watched by two pairs of eyes.

Jayce looks like he was discovered breaking some important rule, to which Viktor is centrain that bringing a kid into the lab counts as but he wont say it. And another pair that looks at him with curiosity.

There is silence, no one really knows what to say or how to act. But Jayce ends reacting, leaving the experiment and going to help Viktor with his cane who is feeling a headache coming.

"Hey Vik! long time no see, how's your house?"

Honestly? Viktor wants nothing more than to go back in time and insist that he is fine and does not need rest. Maybe like that he would have stayed with Jayce and prevent...this.

But time travel is something that is still on the making, so back to the main point.

Viktor just gives out the most tired look, then turns to a near chair, sits and taking his coffee simple says "Explain"

Becuase if there is something he has come to learn while dating and loving Jayce is that nothing should suprise him (and yet Jayce still manages to do it) and also, is better to ask upfront than to wait for him to talk up. Viktor can still remember that one time he found a big (illegal no less) plant at his home and Jayce ignored it for two hours till he asked.

"Well you see, its really funny actually..."

"Jayce...."

"Alright..., so I took a walk around campus and saw some...suspicious individuals and well lets say I was not very discrete"

Viktor can just imagine the scene

"And they saw me and ran but I chased after them"

Stupid move Viktor thinks

"And then they trow me this kid at me, i mean what could I have done? So i took them home, gave them a warm meal and a bath" Jayce ends sounding a bit too proud of himself.

"Jayce you...you stole a kid?" Viktor asks because he is confused "And did not report the incident?"

"Uh well i was going too but then (Y/N) started to wonder around so i kind of forgot..."

"(Y/N?" Viktor asks and sees you peeking out from behind the big desk.

"Yes! Thats their name, im not sure about much more, only that they like chocolate and blue stuff"

Viktor ends in silence for various minutes. You must be an orphan he concludes, an orphan from the undercity, who had no other choice but to follow a gang in order to survive. He tries to calculate your age but its hard, you have been not eating well, thats clear, and he can already see some bruises from the misstreatment of the undercity.

Being raised by parents or family its a luxury after all.

"Jayce you cant just take a kid in" Viktor says and his heart almost breaks as he sees you run towards Jayce hugging his legs.

Noted, you may not talk but you understand, its clear you are more intelligent than what you leave to be at first.

Street smart maybe?

"But Viktor! I cant just leave them" Jayce responds picking you up. "If they return to the undercity i dont think they will make it"

Jayce sees how you push your head against his chest and smiles softly at you.

"And we cant leaven them at an orphan home! I have read of these places, they suck"

Viktor must agree, its not like he comes from one but knows well that lots of kids ends being sold off...

"Alright and whats your plan?" Viktor asks "Do you even know what it means to raise a kid, or how? What about me? Were you going to consulte me?"

He can see the pain in Jayce eyes at his last sentence. "Of course I was! I was just thinking of a...well a good moment"

"Because bringing them to the lab was the perfect idea"

"I could not leave them at home! I mean i tried but- they would not let go of my leg, i think they have some type of trauma..."

Viktor takes another deep breath, Jayce kidness and heart knows no limits.

"Besides you did say you wanted to help the peopel from the undercity"

"This is different, we are talking about raising! adopting a kid!"

"So you are considering?" Jayce asks in the most hopeful tone ever.

Viktor just lets out another breath.

"Well, its not like they can go back and yes, orphan homes sucks" Viktor responds. "But we need to do this right. And i mean legally"

Jayce nods and all of him lights up like he has discover a new thing. He goes to Viktor carefully managing (Y/N) by his hands and leans down to peak Viktor's lips.

"Yes!! Totally! I will talk to Mel about it, im sure she can move some contacts for this" Jayce says and Viktor can see his brain making more and more plans.

"They also need clothes, and we should think of getting them into school" Viktor adds standing up with his cane and going closer. He can see (Y/N) eyes and cant denied how it makes his heart melts.

"Dad?" Its what you say looking at Viktor, then you look at Jayce "Mom?"

Jayce smiles and nods while Viktor is left without words. "Yes! We are your mom and dad now" he says pointing at him then at Viktor.

"Family?"

Jayce nods again

"...Chocolate?" You asks once more

"Alright thats all, if they eat too much sugar this place will be a disaster, you do remember we have dangerous things in here, right?"

Jayce nods at Viktor then whispers to you "We will get chocolate once we end work"

Viktor snorts then moves to his desk to finally start working and also to let his mind register everything. He hears the doors closing imagining Jayce went with you to talk to Mel.

But no, he feels a pull at his trousers and looks down at you who looks up at him extending your arms

"Dad! Up!"

Viktor does as told pulling you on his lap and passing you some papper and a pen. Both fall in a comfortable silence.

And Viktor thinks, this is something he can totally get used to.

[ryoalouette]

This reblog added with this other reblog:

Just gave me a brain explosion istg.

Imagine if one of the shenanigans of Grodd having Danny calling Frostbite like that-

And Delilah actually falling in love @ Frostbite coz Actual Adult who cares for her human baby?! Wait baby, you said he's a doctor? Omg (insert love struck rants)

GASP! IT DOESN'T MATTER THAT I'M NOW THE LAST OF MY KIND NONSENSE, I can be a ghost and ghosts don't really use that "last of my kind" nonsense : )

And Grodd is aware of his love rival being a literal (ghost) yeti.

And so.

CAN YOU IMAGINE THE SHENANIGANS??

What even is this mess I can't

Delilah has been transferred into the bigger and better funded Central City Zoo! Of course Danny's invited to come visit her, he's specifically one of the few people allowed to be in the same physical space as one of the worlds deadliest wild animals, specifically, the most violent and aggressive species of gorilla. All because Delilah, at some point, convinced herself that Danny is her baby and she pretty much refuses to hurt him in any way. She will groom him, and share her food with him, and sits him down to teach him her signs, and play very, very gently with her weak human baby, even though she insists, through sign, that he's very strong. The primatologists always lose their minds when Danny visits, as Delilah doesn't let any other human ape of any kind within five feet of her without a sedative. Depending on her mood, she might even try to keep Danny safe away from other humans. He's her baby, you see.

Unfortunately, the new World's Deadliest Gorilla exhibit attracts the attention of Grodd. The hyper-intelligent meta-gorilla wants to use the worlds deadliest gorilla to get vengeance on the Flash for ruining his world domination plans, and he doesn't really care if some human child gets hurt in the process. In fact, that'll probably hurt the Flash more.

[thatbugkidd]

*shy points* Ik this is probably irrelevant but I still love the design for the Absolute Salvation and was curious. Obvi since they're a demonic force, can they change their original form as well? idk why but like I'm imagining a grumpy pile of tendrils sulking in the corner. Anyways yeah. (also sorry for for spam liking)

So this one is kind of a complicated answer. AS in their original form can't physically interact with the world without a vessel. So for this form, it can heavily manipulate its appearance seeing as its not physically present. It's more like a manifestation. It would only appear to Cyn, being more like a hallucination for her. I feel like generally it would keep, roughly, the same appearance though, it wouldn't see a need in changing (yet)

Now, Cynessa is different HAHA

When AS has a vessel, as mentioned before, it can change its form on a consumption basis. This can give it the ability to shift into someone, with roughly the same appearance, likeness, voice, etc. (I say roughly bc, it can only replicate so well. There will always be some small differences)

It can also change its appearance grotesquely by duplicating appendages and body parts it already has (arms, eyes, mouths, etc) and overall can contort its body in extremely unnatural and painful ways. YES, it is all extremely painful, but the AS doesn't really feel the pain. It's more or less still sending the signals to what's still available of cyn's consciousness. So combining this with being able to steal body parts from things it's eaten, it can change quite drastically!

A side note for funsies but the wings the AS presents itself with is different than uzi's wings because the salvation views itself as angelic, and good. It thinks of itself as the Savior of the world, putting an end to humanity to start a new, better life. So it physically reflects that with feathered wings (though they still have claws, you can only hide so much.)

[jasvtsc]

dean winchester x grim reaper!reader.

for some people, death often meant one thing.

the end.

then again, others saw it as a complete contradiction.

the beginning.

but for dean winchester? it was the only time that he could see his love.

sure, dean died multiple times, in many different ways, at the hands of various people and supernatural creatures. he got used to it at some point.

death? tsk, he’d be back in a few hours. or even less.

however, he didn’t tell anyone, Sam or Cas, who he was seeing during his stay in between the mortal world and whatever else was waiting for him. every time his heart stopped, as soon as he’d open his eyes, a familiar face hovered over him with a small, kind smile.

every single time it was the same grim reaper keeping him company. not even collecting him as it was supposed to happen — you’d just stay with him and keep him company until he got brought back to life. ‘cause everyone knew the deal with the winchester brothers.

they just couldn’t stay dead for long.

so, your job was pretty much nonexistent with them. you were sent just for the sake of it, so some stuck-up higher-ups in the underworld wouldn’t get pissed off with your insubordination. not that you cared, you were doing this shit for long enough to simply grow bored. but with dean? yeah, it wasn’t so bad anymore.

you walked through a small alley, your hands in the pockets of a long, black coat you were wearing. your steps echoed within the walls, sometimes accompanied by a small splash from the puddle you stepped in. finally, you stopped and everything had gone silent.

tilting your head to the side, you smiled at the man as he slowly opened his eyes.

“hey, handsome,” you said, waving your fingers when he finally looked up at you. with a groan, he slowly stretched his back, getting up on his feet.

“yeah, good to see you, too. although, i probably shouldn’t say that,” he muttered, holding his side as he looked around. it was empty.

as it usually was in the waiting room — since that’s what you liked to call it.

it was simply you and him, and the scenery he saw last before dying.

“what was it this time?” you asked, wiping some rain droplets from his cheek. he had a slight stubble, something new compared to the last time you’d seen him. dean chuckled and shook his head, sighing loudly.

“demons, obviously. nasty fuckers,” he scoffed, looking to the side, probably in the direction where his killer had gone. but he quickly cleared his throat and averted his eyes on you. “doesn’t matter. i just know you were happily rubbing your lil’ skeleton hands, knowing you’re about to collect my soul,” he snarled, but his hands found their way around your waist, and he pulled you closer towards his body.

“we’ll see. depends on how fast they bring you back,” you shrugged, running your fingers up and down his strong arms.

“y’know i’d much rather stay with you,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours.

“and you know that it’s impossible,” you whispered back with a small sigh.

still, you weren’t sure how exactly you found yourself that attached to dean. you weren’t even human. you were simply a being meant to collect souls. there was no such thing as feelings. but then again, dean winchester was well-known for his disruptions of both — the mortal and the supernatural world.

it just… happened.

he was slipping through your fingers every, single time which was exciting for you. you were impatiently waiting for the next time you’d see him again, playing cat and mouse — whether he’d go back or not. but it wasn’t just about the thrill. it was about the fact that you really cared for a human soul. every time he went back you felt empty.

even more so than usual.

and for dean, seeing your face made the idea of dying pleasant. with you, he felt at peace — no worries or struggles. he felt… calm. and your smile? it was the first thing he fell for.

before, his imagination of a grim reaper was a skeleton dressed in a black cloak and holding a scythe. but then, he saw you. and everything he believed up to that moment was long gone. you weren’t scary or intimidating. quite the opposite, you made him want to stay with you forever.

but he knew it was impossible. you were simply a passerby. if he was alive, he couldn’t see you. if he was dead, he could be with you just for some time before he’d be sent to whatever shithole they wanted to put him in. it couldn’t have worked. but still, it didn’t stop him from thinking about you and simply hoping to die as many times as he possibly could.

just to get a glimpse of his nonexistent love.

a/n: is it clear now that i like to make myself suffer lmao i’m on some angsty shit lately 💀

༄♡ tags: @internetitgirl17 @beausling @deanswidow @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @fitxgrld @figthoughts @angelicp0etry @hrtsoldierboy @titsout4nicholas

[painted-flag]

OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - aemond targaryen

Chapter 16: Every Little Thing

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 4.3k ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ Death's hand extends towards the unwilling.

You carefully put on an intricate gown made for you. As you were back at the capital, you had worn their elvish clothes for the first time since you left on the trip. The journey to Lake Rosemange was spent in your more modest human clothes. You had thought it was a welcome feeling, but it did not hold a candle to the feeling you had wearing the soft and luxurious elvish fabrics. Amara had chosen the gown as you broke your fast with them in your room. It had been a while since you could speak to them and was refreshing. 

“Imagine her surprise when he returned with another’s undergarment in his pocket!” Liriel had spoken. The two had been catching you up on courtly gossip. As much as you wanted to not partake in such gossip to maintain a more elevated persona, you could not help but revel in it. The scandals all lured you in. It was far more entertaining than any town square shows put on where you had lived. 

As Amara tied the laces on the back of your dress, your gaze swept up to your bed. Within the pillowcases lay the scouting record and book found in Cole’s room. Thinking of it made your throat close and muscles tighten. When Amara stepped back and went to join her wife on the settee, you sucked in a breath. 

“I think I’ll choose my jewellery for the day.” The underlying meaning behind your words was not lost on the two elves. You wished for a moment of solitary peace. They got up from their seats and bid you a quick goodbye. 

When they had left, you made your way to the vanity. While scanning over your options, your eyes kept moving toward where the scouting log and Cole’s book were kept. Your fingers brushed over the cool metal of a necklace you found particularly pleasing and knew it would compliment the expanse of the bare neck that was exposed from the dress. You put it on and then walked to your bed. 

The items were calling to you. You shakily pulled them both out from under the pillows and laid them on the plush blanket of your bed. You dragged your finger across the black cover and ruminated on the information Aegon had gathered. The whole night was spent drifting in and out of sleep. You were reeling from the information. Cole was one being you knew was not trustworthy. He was slimy and vile, but was there really enough hate in him to be a purveyor of the dark arts? 

You were caught between multiple points. You wished to mourn; for your father, Lyra, and everyone else who had perished from the taint. Yet your body was pulled towards your duty as a healer and passion as a researcher to find a cure no matter the cost, regardless of your health and sanity. Then, more recently, another point had driven itself into your chest. It was a matter of a single blue eye that threatened to swallow you each time you gazed into it. The point, driven like an anchor, pushed you overboard and into murky waters; pulling you down from all those other cares to think of nothing but him alone. 

The gods had been cruel, exceptionally so, to test your patience by sending such a siren call in the form of Aemond.

You once again scanned the items in front of you. There was something there. There is some underlying meaning behind the discovery of this information. It was a trickery. The scout's log showed Cole’s presence in the area and the book was damning that he was capable of some kind of evil – or at the very least an untrustworthy interest in darker things. The main cause of your distress was Aemond’s possible part to play in all of it. He and Cole were nearly inseparable, always talking to one another. There was a strong bond, one which would naturally lead to sharing information between one another. 

During your thinking, a knock on the door jolted you out of it. While you normally would have made haste to hide the items, your brain had been working overtime as of late. It led to you not caring much at all anymore. You looked over your shoulder to see Aemond walking into your room. You turned your head to the bed, keeping your back facing him. You could not look at him. 

Cole likely played a part in hurting – nay killing – your father; to which Aemond could have known about it.

It would suit Aemond not to tell you. The taint was a burden on both kingdoms. He could use you for your talents, recognizing that they may have made a mistake in killing your father before he could find a solution. He planned to have you make the cure, or at least get close, and then dispense you. Your kingdom would be none the wiser of such misdeeds and a conflict would be avoided. The elf kingdom could use the cure on themselves only and sit back as your people died out. 

That was the ultimate goal of the Great War so many centuries ago – at least what had been taught to you. 

You steeled yourself and crossed your arms to soften your emotions, “What can I do for you, your grace?” You wanted him to leave before you broke down – before you confessed all that you discovered and demanded an answer. Though you knew, it was far too late to go back. His presence alone weakened you. You were beholden to Aemond and thus unable to keep anything from him.

“I was coming to check on how you were settling back in,” Aemond answered. You wanted to scoff at his possible fake care, but at the same time fall into his arms. The supposed dichotomy between the two mocked you with similarity. 

“Everything is good, my things have been unpacked.” You responded as you looked out the large windows of your room and towards the garden. 

“I did not mean your things,” His footsteps sounded closer as he walked further into your room, “I meant, how are you handling everything? With Lyra…” 

You sucked in a breath and held back the tears that threatened to spill. Your lungs shuddered, but you remained steadfast in your bubbling malcontent. You could sense him standing at the bottom of the three steps that led up to the loft area of your room where your bed and personal study were. 

“I’m still mourning,” You then turned to face him and looked down upon his form. Seeing him, the unadulterated care in his eyes and softened face made you question your knowledge. Surely, this could not have been all a ruse? Surely he is not such a good actor as to make you fall for these falsities.  

“Of course, I–” Aemond had begun, but you cut him off. 

“But I’m mourning my father as well,” Aemond gave you a questionable look, as the last conversation with your father ended on the mutual understanding that he could still be alive, “I know he’s dead.” 

“Why would you say such a thing?” Aemond placed one of his feet on the steps as if to walk up to you, but saw you take a step back. Your flinch looked as though it slapped him, for he took his foot off the step and moved his hands behind his back to show he was not a threat. His eye seemed to flit about your room with nervousness. 

“You told me there were no reports of humans in that area in the last century and I was stupid to believe it.” Your voice was just above a whisper and cracked by the end. It was not fair to accuse him of what you were thinking, but in your grief, you made stupid decisions. 

“I told you the truth of it. What would I gain by lying to you?” Aemond responded. 

“A victory. My father murdered by Cole then another human to use for a cure and then dispose of when the time comes. Once done, you can protect the elven kingdom and watch mine burn, as some kind of late victory from the Great War.” It was wrong to throw that at him, so terribly wrong; especially how he had poured his heart out to you on why such a war started. However, your mind was clouded with mismatched pieces of evidence that you struggled to string together coherently. 

A shift was made in Aemond’s continence, “You think this is some plot to destroy your kingdom? You accuse my good friend and ally of murder?”

“That day in the forest, when you saved me, you told me that every little thing is out to kill.” It felt so long since that day, but truly only a month ago. The way his sword was aimed at your neck came back into your mind, vivid and clear. He had only spared you, just slightly, and you were supposed to be thankful for it. Like not killing you was a gift. Perhaps, he should have just done the job and been rid of you. Now, the same look you gave him after such a threat was directed at you; confusion, shock, and a little bit of fear from Aemond. 

“There were plenty of times in which I could have killed you, but I didn’t. Now I know you are angry and confused but…” He paused and backed up, his eye darting around to not look at you, “I revealed parts of myself to you that…” His voice got caught in his throat.

“Words said in heat are often more destructive than battles.” It was a whisper, as if he was recalling it from a deep memory from his past. His hands tightened into fists and he leaned on the balls of his feet, “I have told you the truth as you are my friend. Let us not fight when tensions are high. We shall talk later.” 

You wanted to scream at him, to lug one of the pillows on your bed directly at his head. How could he be so reasonable? Gods, why was he so reasonable? You wanted confrontation. With it, you could get answers. However, all Aemond did was look at you. His face held traces of grief but still had pieces of reverence. It was heavy, the way he gazed upon you with such fondness and an equal amount of intense emotional pain.

Aemond nodded before swiftly turning to exit your room. His hair swerved with him. The sound of the door closing, bordering on a slam, was what broke you. Tears escaped your eyes and you had to hold up your body on the bed from collapsing. 

Clarity instantly washed over you in one giant wave. Aemond had been nothing but forthright with you – especially since he revealed the origin of his scar. He was rude at first, but there was a perfectly clear reason why. Yet, you had taken that and thrown it in his face. The wave of clarity that washed over you swept back into the ocean of your emotions, leaving behind a shell in the sand of your mind. 

The shell shined and held a simple truth within it. The answer to the one burning question that was always piqued when Aemond would look or talk to you. It always bugged you, that you could not find a reason why your heart would beat quicker and heat would wash over your face. 

You were falling in love. 

It was not what you expected. All your life, a simple path had been laid in your mind. Meet someone, gradually come to like them, and then eventually build the foundations of love. It would be calm and come slowly. There would be time to adjust to it. The motions of the ocean would gently lick at your feet as the tide rose over time. 

Yet, Aemond came and built up a storm; water eroding rock and pummeling the sand. While violent, his storm would never harm you, but you had just harmed him. You could not say you were in love, but there was no denying that it had begun to wrap you in its embrace. 

You shoved the items back under your pillow haphazardly and then moved quickly down the steps and toward your door. You needed to get out of that room – to get away from what just happened. You shakily walked down the dark stone hallways of the castle and towards the laboratory.

Here, you could think clearly and devise a plan to apologize to Aemond. 

You walked to the main study desk and rested your hands against the worn wood. You looked out at all of the items and ingredients laid on the surface, including some of the recent samples you collected from Lake Rosemagne. 

While looking at the ingredients that composed all your recent experiments, including the one that successfully halted the taint, all you could think about was what the book found in Cole’s room and the scouting record. Images of the pages moved across your vision when you had flipped through it. The page you had stopped on with the mortua terra flower and a crude sketch of Lake Rosemagne settled in you. 

Your eyes squinted as you took in all the items in front of you. There was a scratching at the back of your brain; an itch that got worse and worse. It was there, like the forgotten phrase on the tip of one’s tongue. There was an answer clawing at you through a murky haze. Your gaze moved from the vials of lakewater that were collected, then moved to the mortua terra flower, and then it drifted towards another table in the laboratory. 

In a small vase was the elf azure flower. It had been your preferred perfume scent when you came to this kingdom. There was always a vase full of them in the lab, you had made sure of it. You had noticed them growing in the forest when you came back from a short trip out to your home with Aemond. His words came to mind when you glanced at the budding flowers. 

Giēñagon syt se gīs.

Cure for the soul.

That was the elf superstition. Yet, wisdom oft comes from superstitious knowledge that had been passed down for longer than earth's memory. Like a shot arrow, an idea hit you like never before in your life. 

Of course.

Of course, it makes so much sense.

You had been correct in assuming that a cure would need two big components that cancel one another out. At first, it was the poison against poison, which only lasted for a few seconds. Then you tried using dark magic against itself, which halted the spread of the taint in both plant and body but was not a definite cure. What if you used another arena to fight in? Instead of using the infected host as a fighting ground for the potion to act against, would it not be worth it to have the fight be in the potion itself? 

The mortua terra plant against the elf azure flower. The mortua terra was a symbol of death, but the elf azure meant light. 

In Cole’s book, you saw a drawing of what looked like the outline of Lake Rosemagne with the mortua terra flower and a myriad of weird symbols and sketches. If you used the lake water as a base – for it is believed to have balancing powers – it would have to make some form of an impact as they were on opposite sides of the magic spectrum.

This was truly a new frontier for you, but you were determined to follow it through. You wasted no time in expertly assembling all of the ingredients you would need. Your hand grabbed a nearby stick to transfer the flame from one of the torches on the wall. You lit up the bottom portion of a holder for one of the empty cauldrons. Then you took a sample of water from Lake Rosemange and brought it to a calm simmer. 

You followed out with the rest of the ingredients that made the complete base for your last experiments that had been tweaked by Daeron to be stronger. The whole time, your hands had been shaking slightly and you had to take a few breaks to calm down. This morning and the day prior had been a whirlwind of emotions. They compounded in you, but you swallowed it all down to do your work. This was not a brew you wanted to mess up. 

The last step was the two flowers. You put on gloves to handle the mortua terra and plucked a few of the petals off of it, which gleaned a light purple in the dull torchlight.

Just as you were going to place them in the brew, the door to the laboratory opened. Your back was to it, but you could tell that this time in the mourning was around when Daeron would start his day and assumed he had come in.

“I’ve just had the biggest epiphany. It was all wrong, well, it was all correct as well. It's hard to explain, but I think using the water from Lake Rosemagne in combination with mortua terra and elf azure has the possibility of making real change,” You received no response, but truly it did not bother you. So much of your attention and energy was going into this. 

When the silence dragged on, you continued, “This just might work, Daeron. Gods, what if it does?” You plopped the dark petals in the water and went to reach for the azure. After, you would need to cut your hand. 

“I did not think you would figure it out so quickly.” It was not Daeron’s voice, but a deeper, more venomous one. You halted in your ministrations and turned around. There Cole stood with a look of wroth in his eyes. In his hands was his tome and a copy of the scouting papers. He had been in your room and you could not help but wonder just how often he had done that before.

He held up the items, “You think I'm stupid enough to not notice these went missing?” 

You swallowed hard and backed against the desk. There was no other means of escape for you except the other door on the other side of the room that led to the sick hall. However, its distance was just far enough that if Cole were to run he would get you before you could even call for help. 

“You said it, not I.” You spoke. There were a million scenarios that came into your head. Ways he would kill you, possibly knock you out to take you away and torture you. There was no happy ending – not even a tame one. His actions confirmed an underlying suspicion of yours. He not only was dabbling in the dark arts but had something to do with the taint. 

“You think you’re funny?” He stepped forward. 

“From time to time, I do have some good quips. What the hell were you doing in my room?” You confronted. On the inside, you were quaking like a leaf, but you could not show it. Cole would not see your fear. 

“I could ask you the same thing. This book was in my room.” Cole responded. You could not out Aegon as your accomplice, you could not stomach putting him at risk any more than he was for helping you. This was your burden, not his. He was only being a good friend. 

“What are you doing with a personal journal on dark magic?” You hit him back with that one. His gaze darkened and he dropped his held-up arm with the items still clutched feverishly. 

“I’ve told you before, humans should stop trifling in matters that do not concern them. Bad things can befall such… unsuspecting souls.” You could not tell what it was, but there was some underlying meaning beneath his words; a sick joke embedded in his malcontent. 

You were in danger. You could feel the imminent dread claw its way through your body. In the corner of your eye, there was a wooden box on the table that held a bunch of loose-leaf pieces of parchment, ink bottles, and quills. You and Daeron shared similar scattered minds and often needed to quickly jot things down and could not wait to find your journals lest the idea slipped from your mind. 

If you could grab that and throw it at him, it may give you enough time to run to the door and get away or at the very least scream for help in an area that may be heard. He seemed to catch on to your wandering eye and clue together what you were thinking.

In a split second, he dropped the items to run to you, but by then you had grabbed the box and thrown it at his face. The ink and flying parchment temporarily blinded him and you made for the door to the sick hall. 

After just a step, searing pain hit your side. You stumbled and stopped running, the air in your lungs having been knocked out by the force. You felt a weird mix of pain and numbness. Looking down, you could see the hilt of a dagger poking out from your side. Your shaking hands reached down to feel the escaping blood. You looked back up to see Cole with a curled sneer as he observed you.

Cole moved forward. You barely stumbled back by the time he used one hand to grip your throat and hold you in place while the other went to grasp the knife’s handle. 

“Your kind lives for so little, yet take so much.” He drove the knife further into you which caused you to cough violently at the intense anguish. Cole released his hold and you dropped to the ground among the strewn-out mess you made. All you could do was sob out, every ability to move your body had stopped.

He kneeled to be in your vision, “You will bleed out, just like your father.” 

Ice washed over you. He not only played a part in the creation of the taint, but he had murdered your father. Likely because he had been near Lake Rosemagne – one of the vital ingredients in the cure. It made you feel sick that he died simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

A genius who strived to make a difference by helping people had been killed by a coward. 

“You fucking bastard,” You coughed out. You made a futile attempt to move towards him, possibly hitting him, but it was difficult to even move. 

“Ah, but at least I’ll live. As an added benefit, it's laced with the taint.” Cole taunted. As if stabbing you was not enough, he had put some of the taint on it to be sure you would die. There was no limit nor measure of hate this elf would not cross. 

Another thought came to you. Aemond had been telling the truth and had no clue about your father's murder. Most of all, he had no inkling to Cole’s misdeeds. The closest member of his council was seeking to kill the world for reasons unknown to you. 

He will never know, you thought. This was it. You were dying. Cole pulled out the knife that had been stopping most of the blood flow. He then stood up and made his way to the exit, giving you no more words. 

The fucking coward could not even see it through before leaving the scene. 

You needed to warn Aemond and everyone else. You needed to pass on the idea for the cure. As much as you wanted to get Cole for what he had done to your father, that held little importance when compared to the rest of the realm. Your hand waved around the floor to find a quill. You scrambled for some parchment and dragged the tip of the quill through a blot of spilled ink. Your hands could not still, but you wrote with a frantic nature as you bled out on the ground. There would be no time to write out a step-by-step guide, but some hints would do. 

Mother’s flower, 

Lake water, 

Every little thing, 

You hoped it would be understood by Aemond. You could not risk outright writing that Cole was a traitor for fear that he would see it and immediately hide the evidence. With this, at least there was a chance. The flower that Aemond’s mother adored, the azure, in combination with the lake water was the key additives to the previous experiment. The final line was more personalized, hinting at the words of advice he had given you – aimed at exposing Cole. Your vision became darker as spots clouded it.

He would piece it together, you knew he would. 

You turned around to lay on your back and stretched out your arms. The parchment you had written in was clutched in your hand. You closed your eyes and waited. This was not how you ever thought you would go out. Like many, you had hoped it would happen at the end of a long and satisfying life in which you went to sleep and never woke up. 

You were too young for this, but alas, Lyra was also young and your father was too kind for the deaths they faced. 

Nothing was ever fair. You took in one last breath; a slow inhale where you could smell the floral scent of the azure flowers that filled the room. Shortly after, you exhaled your last breath. With it, your consciousness fled.

Chapter 17: The Winds of War Preview

Again, that was not unusual. However, when he knocked again with a little more force to make sure he was heard, Aemond was surprised by the slow creaking it made as it opened. It was ajar, which was unusual. His fingers gripped the handle and he pushed it open. His gaze was lowered and noticed the strewn about papers at first. His brow furrowed as he scanned the area further until… 

Gods no… 

☾⋆⁺₊✧ If you want to be added to the taglist, click here!

taglist: @izzicle @arriettys-song @ggukiespace @wasntpriscilla @marielahurtado @shamelessblazecrown @peachysunrize @lolliespocketfullofpollies @lanadragon04 @kokosg @sinistersnakey @aemondtargaryenwifey @m-riaa @sarcasticwitch11 @coriellesmarya @simpinonyouz @scrumptiousloser @gcdofchaos @whorrorbellee @saturnssrings @ashjade19 @uniquecutie-puffs @fan_goddess @impossiblepersonastranger @certifiedhaters @crystal_siren @dejiekoo @ladyofthewoods15 @lilostif16 @papichulo-4 @liannafae @f4ntasywh0re @jessyoutofspace04 @ribbetzetoad @rxvenswxxd @iamtoriasworld

[gothamite-rambler]

If Odysseus was luckily bestowed demigod status after he died

And knowing he could easily take on Poseidon, Odysseus took the time to mess with him even more. After all, he was related to Hermes, the god of mischief. No one stopped Odysseus because he was kind of warranted this after the insanity he went through to get home.

Poseidon, Hades, Ares, Odysseus, Zeus, and Hera were having brunch together. Hera brought over another stack of pancakes for the group.

Hera: Ody, enjoy the brunch, but is Penelope not joining us today?

Odysseus: She's exhausted from last night, but she does love your cooking.

Hera: And I love her and you because you're a good man who doesn’t cheat on his wife.

Hera glared at Zeus before sitting down next to him.

Poseidon (scoffing): You act like he’s a hero.

Zeus: Not this again.

Odysseus: Let him whine again; he's still hurt that I wounded him with his own weapon.

Odysseus smirked, relishing the chaos he was stirring.

Poseidon (frustrated): At night, I can still feel the trident in my chest, puncturing my organs.

Odysseus (mocking tone): Oh boo freaking hoo. I made more use of it than you ever did, fucking idiot.

Poseidon (defensive): Hey, I’ve done serious damage to mortals, taken down fleets, made men fear me, and used the water as my body to do all of that! I am tough as steel! One human man was never an issue to me!

Odysseus (smirking): All I remember is you begging me to stop while I stabbed you with your own weapon. Then you thought you won our battle by making me a monster like you. I wanted to get home, you got upset because I didn't kill the son that from my new knowledge you never visited. Whatever makes you happy though.

Poseidon: You've heard legends about my strength and power!

Odysseus (after finishing his tea): Then I saw that you are powerful and have small penis energy and had to one up a human man. You know, like bitches do.

Poseidon (angry): I could dropkick your ass right now I don't care if other people are here! I don't give a fuck!

Odysseus (grinning): I can definitely beat your ass now as well. Want to test that theory?

Ares (intervening, amused): Uncle Poseidon, stop before he uses someone else's godly weapon on you.

Odysseus (snickering): You think he'd cry this time?

Poseidon (shouting): Okay, why is he here?!

Ares (nonchalant): Hey, leave my great-nephew alone. I invited him over for brunch.

Poseidon (exasperated): He’s not welcome here! I want him out of this brunch now!

Ares took a quick sip from his tea cup then placed it back down on the saucer. He was a God of War, but not lacking in good taste when it came to tea.

Ares (maintaining his composure): Those who want him to stay, raise your hands.

Ares, Hades, Zeus, and even Hera raised their hands causing Poseidon to shake with rage as the tides outside matched his enraged energy.

Ares (with a satisfied grin): You've been outvoted, unc. Sit down and eat your pancakes. You can fight him afterwards.

Odysseus chuckled, snatching a pancake off Poseidon's plate. The God of the Tides stood up and stomped out of the room in frustration.

Poseidon: I will be waiting outside!

With that, he left in a huff, the rage causing the tides outside to churn wildly for a few moments.

Odysseus (chuckling, mischievous): I'm glad that you welcomed me and my family to Olympus. This has been a fun time so far.

Zeus (pleased): Yeah, we all enjoy your company, and it's only been a year so far.

Hades (with a bemused expression): Honestly, anyone who makes either of my brothers this mad is always hilarious to me. Poseidon has a serious grudge against you, and it's been a long time since that last happened.

Zeus (shaking his head, incredulous): I can't imagine being that petty and holding a grudge for so long.

Ares (rolling his eyes): Dad, even I know that's a lie.

[kiyo-cant-write]

Welp, I'm kinda back to request the guy again(y'know the RSA Silver anon). Tho you can call me as 🎵 anon. Thanks tho.

So I kinda have some little new idea pop in my head, I got the idea when I read some old scenarios. About Silver and Sebek, having a crush on Yuu. Then tries to fight over Yuu's attention. Just imagine they fight over Yuu and Yuu accidentally getting squish between their chest I mean check their PE uniform card, while they get too busy having a staring competition to notice Yuu got squish. Yuu intensely blushing, probably almost fainting

I hope you don't mind this.

silver and sebek fighting "over" yuu/reader ✧･ﾟ

.

Name change initiated, tags updated.

Hello! I don't mind this! I like Silver and the rest of Diasomnia (though my personal bias is Malleus xD) And I hope I interpreted your idea well! My sincere apologies for taking a longer time to get this out, my health is not doing well at the moment.

Note to anyone looking to request that I currently have a very big request for all the first years in the works and it is taking me some time to complete. That said, requests will be slow to go out but are open, actually.

.

Summary: [Name] is swept up in an argument between Silver and Sebek Zigvolt during flight class. Were they always this built?

TW/CW: None

Notes: pre-relationship, the reader is described as smaller than Sebek/Silver, the reader is the Ramshackle Prefect/Yuu, they/them pronouns for the reader

Guest Stars: Grim, Malleus Draconia (mentioned)

.

.

.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Silver & Sebek Zigvolt

Silver did not plan to be in the argument in the first place.

He isn't a very confrontational personality to begin with.

That, and his father raised him better (or he says that).

And meanwhile, Sebek is just Sebek-ing, that's how it starts.

The argument doesn't begin with Malleus but it's sure about Malleus now and Silver kind of wants to punch Sebek.

Sebek throws the first punch and Silver is defending himself.

The two of them are airheads sometimes and forget they're in a joint class and there are people everywhere.

[Name] is smaller than the two of them and ends up caught between them but neither of them cares to notice.

[Full Name] you are about to experience being smooshed between two guys who have trained as guards since childhood.

Sebek is still more or less yelling.

Silver effectively politely conveys "Shut the fuck up."

[Name] and the other students are BAFFLED.

It seemed that it would be a while before this is resolved...

Silver is the one to point out this is a ... position.

Sebek gets offended that Silver is protecting [Name].

But why? WHAT IS THIS HUMAN DOING TO HIM?

Silver chooses to repress his feelings.

Trauma responses or something (Book 7 did things to me)

Then [Name] fainted and both boys began to p a n i c !!

"This is all your fault, Silver!"

"Sebek, be quiet."

Silver's expression might have seemed neutral to anyone in Vargas' PE class who was watching but Sebek recognized this type of expression from his childhood. Silver was glaring daggers at him from his group's area.

But! This was a fight and Sebek would win (for Malleus).

"HOW DARE YOU INSULT WAKA-SAMA?!??" Sebek roared, ignoring the class around him as all of his senses focused on that cat.

It would be good to note that while it was a "fight." it was a fight that Silver did not want to be in. How had it even begun? Silver wasn't sure. He was trying to talk to one of his classmates about something and then Sebek started yelling (really, who decided to let joint classes be with the first years?) and soon after, this had started.

"NYA! WHAT DID YOU SAY EYEBROWS?" Grim fired back at Sebek.

Raised by General Lilia Vanrouge, Silver has some quirks that others are quick to point out. He grew up in Briar Valley, after all. His "human skills" leave much to be desired. Still, Lilia instilled a sense of justice in Silver, and the knowledge that you should not say nasty things about others if they are your friends.

Silver sighed. This was why he decided to keep his thoughts on today's PE incident to himself. It would be better for everyone that way. But his emotions, the ones he tried to ignore, made things harder for him sometimes.

[Name] is being a bit daft, though. Why did they get involved?

As Sebek yelled at Grim, the cat jumped into his human half's arms and caused Sebek to, as he was trying to grab Grim, get much too close to the Prefect (for safety and for Silver to accept).

He sighed again as he took several steps over to the trio and attempted to intimidate Sebek away from [Name].

"Sebek, cease this at once. This is unbecoming," Silver told him, standing just behind the Prefect and staring Sebek down.

"Silver, stay out of this!" Sebek hissed at him, not realizing how close he was to the Prefect, "I need to finish this."

"Malleus-sama would not approve..." Silver continued slowly.

He took a step closer.

"I am doing this for his honor, that cat insulted him!!"

Sebek pushed closer and Silver couldn't mask his irritation. Sebek would not listen to Silver and the light-haired man knew this.

"Even if he did, you're much too close to [Name]," the second-year added.

As each boy moved closer, they had [Name] cornered.

"Are you insinuating that you have some kind of claim over this human?" Sebek asked, nearly scoffing as if insulted by the concept.

"No, I am saying you're too close to them. Be polite."

"Silver, you speak and act so boldly for someone taken in off the streets," Sebek told him, bringing up a longstanding issue between them.

He had to ignore this. It wasn't supposed to be something shared with others, that he was taken in by Lilia, that Lilia was his father.

"This isn't about that. You're being rude."

Silver had never wanted to punch Sebek more than he did at this moment.

Smushed between the two guards, [Name] held Grim close to their chest. They could spell the faint scent of flowers from Silver whereas Sebek smelled like tea. They were able to see now, up close and personally, that Malleus' guards were strong, built young men, not as lean as some of the other students at Night Raven.

A few moments passed as Silver and Sebek attempted to stare each other down, other students beginning to watch the interaction, waiting for a fight to break out. It was a miracle that Vargas did not notice the commotion but he was busy telling some poor student about his great and important very heroic deeds.

"... Grim, I think I am going to die," [Name] whispered to the cat.

Startled, Grim looked up at them with such a sudden motion he jostled their spot between Silver and Sebek slightly.

"Nya?? Don't die, [Name]!!"

But the Prefect could not hear them anymore, they were dead to the world for the foreseeable future. With a bright red face, they looked somewhere between embarrassed and feverish.

"Oh no. [Name], are you okay?"

Silver moved away from Sebek as the green-haired boy did the same. Sebek noticed the state of the Ramshackle Prefect instantly.

"AAH! THE HUMAN NEEDS MEDICAL ATTENTION!!" Sebek shouted

For a moment, Silver wished that Sebek had a volume button he could (politely) turn down. It would save everyone a lot of grief.

All of this attracted the attention of Vargas who shipped around and sprinted over to them, forgetting his discussion of heroism with that poor, poor unsuspecting student.

"Don't yell," Silver told Sebek as he noticed Vargas speeding in their direction, his voice sounding like a whisper in comparison to Sebek's yells.

"HAH? This is all your fault, Silver!"

"Sebek. I said... Quiet down."

Today would be a long day for everyone...

.

Imagine the rest for yourself~

.

.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

[glossgojo]

father mayhew x fem! detective reader the long awaited part-2

picking up right where we left off with part 1 you know the drill

2.2k words

i’m a sucker for some plot with p0rn, oral!fem receiving, riding, creampie, no protection don’t be dumb wrap it up, not proofread and i fear it will be obvious, lowkey yandere /they’re both down bad

the rational part of your mind told you to hightail it out of the church after you’d both fallen back on his bed sweaty and blissful. your body wasn’t cooperating, the haze of desire had clouded the stark reality of your legs being sore and the space between them aching, still leaking onto his sheets. charlie was clearly going through some kind of turmoil himself as he covered his face with his hands, shoulder pressed against yours as you caught your breath. you cleared your throat, thinking maybe it would be better to walk very slowly out of his room and back home. as soon as you tried to sit up one of his hands found your waist, “no please don’t go.” they were still warm and rough, the bandaid on his finger reminding you of how all this started. you had gotten too caught up, losing the reason you came here in the first place. maybe now was the time to get him to talk. you turned towards him and batted your wide eyes, charlie couldn’t help but do the same, his hand traveling up and resting in the dip of your waist.

“i don’t want to intrude.” you whispered it knowing that there was no point in it, you were the only ones there and from how loud you were earlier anyone who was nearby would know what you two were up to.

“you’re not i just-“ he closed his eyes, the vision of you in his bed, duvet barely covering you or the marks he left was a test to his faith all over again.

“go on,” your voice although siren-like soothed his hesitation.

“it’s the catholic guilt.” he muttered, half confessing and half ashamed of it.

“i think god will understand, you can blame me if it helps.” you tried not to find the situation ironic, he was built like a sex god and touting the sin of premarital relations. if it helped him open up you’d be the degenerate for him.

“no i don’t think i could, you look like an angel.” he said it without flinching, your lips twitched at the corner. the situation was laughable and later you’d definitely tell lois about it over some wine.

“what does that make you? the devil?” you brushed a piece of his hair back, unruly from all your tugging and nearly unrecognizable from how it usually looked, gelled back and pristine.

“in a way, yes.” you couldn’t believe that a modern man was so archaic in his thinking.

“i disagree, there’s nothing more human than succumbing to desire, no one is perfect, you can’t expect yourself to be either.” he rolled the words around in his mind, it was a nice sentiment but he was a priest he was supposed to be devoted to god and the faith alone. not the way your eyelashes fluttered or how your ankles felt on his shoulders.

“do we not all strive for perfection?” the pout on your lips was still there, it had been since he started this conversation and he wanted to kiss it away, he shouldn’t.

“you’ll always end up disappointed.” he leaned up on his elbow, looking down at you, lifting up the duvet to cover you up more, not that it helped his current situation.

“so what do you do?” his voice sent a chill through your spine, deep and gruff, like he’d just woken up. you imagined his voice would be enough to just get you off. you blinked away the thoughts, formulating a response to the best of your ability while looking into his espresso eyes.

“whatever i want, of course i have my own morality and i try to be ‘good’ but i know i’m not perfect.” religion had never led your morality, surely in some way it shaped it without your knowing, but you did what you thought was right.

“whatever you want? what do you want?” he could think of a few things he wanted, perhaps even needed, but you were involved in all of them.

“geez what a loaded question, hmm right now a shower and a snack would be nice, in general i want to help people.” he laughed at your response finding you even more endearing than before, you were so straightforward it was jarring. you watched the corner of his eyes crinkle. “what about you?”

“i want you.” he said it without a bat of his eyes like it was the most obvious answer in the world. you weren’t so nonchalant, lips parted in a small gasp and he tried not to smile at your reaction, tried not to let it etch into his bones.

“you have me.” you said it with all the conviction you could muster, it didn’t really take much if you were being honest because in that moment it was true. your legs were covered in him and the ache between them could only be filled by him. he’d haunt you for days if not weeks. your hands found their way to cradle his jaw before you knew what you were doing, titling his head down towards you, kissing him slow and gentle, as if he was a ghost. charlie thought you tasted sweet and the way you kissed him made his heart ache faintly in his chest. he moved on top of you, kissing you with an urgency you didn’t quite feel. you let him kiss you with desperation. his hands roamed down to your legs, parting them and bringing them to the side of his hips. you didn’t know if you could handle another round even if you clenched on air when his slightly hard cock rested between your chests. charlie had other ideas anyways, kissing down your neck, somehow knowing exactly where to nip at to get you to arch into him, kissing gently over the bite marks and bruises he’d left on your chest until he was under the covers, kissing at your stomach. and when he pressed another soft kiss to your clit you swore your heartbeat had moved south.

you throbbed against him, bucking into him gently as a soft whine of his name left your lips. when he licked down your slit, cleaning up his slick mixed with yours you sucked in a breath of air. it was so messy and he didn’t seem to care at all.

“this pussy is fucking divine.” he murmured under the cover of the duvet, licking your thighs clean next, nose bumping against your opening in the process making you clench on it. he didn’t mention that you smelled sweet too, he wished he could eat you for every meal of the day.

“s-such a dirty mouth.” despite your words your legs were parting more for him, he smirked against the soft skin of your thighs, holding your thigh open with a strong hand.

“might as well use it then huh?” before you could even think of an intelligible response he was delving his tongue into you with one of his fingers, pulling out everything he could as you gave, and gave, and gave. his fingers were already long and thick you knew that but the thick wet muscle of his tongue hammering into you, curling and slurping in a craze made you gush into his mouth. you imagined he was tasting himself there mixed with your cum and you felt a tinge of jealousy. his finger managed to find the spot that had you squirting earlier, his tongue quickly following and you pushed your hand up against the headboard, running from the sensation. charlie wouldn’t have any of that, tugging you by your legs right back where he needed you, in fact closer than before. his nose bumping against your clit as he fucked you on his tongue, as if you were a toy for his pleasure. the thought made you clench even harder on his tongue eliciting a groan from him, the vibrations against your core making you gasp. he was ruthless on your poor stretched cunt and just when you felt close he was pulling his finger and tongue out, playing with your puffy folds and blowing cool air on your throbbing clit.

“charlie-“ you gasped out, feeling your eyes starting to water at the desperation you felt to come.

“father.” he corrected you, clearly it wasn’t about respect, not like megan meant. you swallowed down the spit accumulating in your mouth and with it your hesitance.

“father mayhew please do something.” your voice sounded foreign, so desperate and whiny you almost cringed at it.

“so cute,” he murmured against your clit, kissing it once before licking at it, the rough pad of his tongue igniting every nerve in your body. two of his fingers pressed at your now drooling hole and you sighed in relief. he sucked at your clit as his fingers stretched you open, you were soaking his hand thoroughly practically dropping down the length of it. charlie knew he would smell you for days and when he didn’t he’d start missing it. your eyes wrung shut as you felt your orgasm approaching, the obscene sound of your gushing and his hand smacking against your wet skin filled the air as you started to see white behind your eyelids. you came so hard you were bucking up into him, shaking and squirming in his hold and he fucked you through it, cleaning up the mess you made of yourself and then his fingers. with one last kiss to your clit he lifted himself back up the length of you, kissing your lips and swirling your tongue with his, tasting the sin.

you felt like you were on a cloud, floating in pure bliss and charlie watched the way your eyelids fluttered shut when he pulled back. he’d let you sleep, in the meantime he needed to atone. you could feel him heavy and hot between your legs, clearly hard but not making any move to address it, the thought spurred on your need for more. you were surely addicted to him. his heady musk was starting to affect, you were being drugged by him and his body. you pushed at his shoulders he looked concerned as he broke off the kiss, you pushed a little more and he seemed to get the hint, falling onto his back and bringing you with him.

you straddled him, your clit bumping his hard cock, making you wince at the overstimulation. charlie pulled you along with him as he settled with his back against the headboard, his bare chest fully on display and you trailed a hand down his abs, resting on the small tuft of hair below his belly button. you didn’t know if you could take him again, but surely at your own pace it wouldn’t be too bad. at least that’s what you thought. when you were lifting up on your knees and lining him up, you still felt the stretch from just his tip.

“fuck.” charlie was on the brink of coming just from the sight of you struggling to take him. you had been so insistent on this and then in one second all your bravado went out the door. god he could just eat you up.

“need help baby?” you nodded your head weakly and he guided your hips down and you gripped at his shoulders. once you were down halfway you started to bounce up and down, trying to adjust to the pain. he felt so much deeper like this and you swore it didn’t hurt this much before. fortunately you were still dripping down his length, which helped with the friction and you could feel his precum dripping inside you. you set your own pace, grinding and moving up and down slowly. he wasn’t even fully in but the tight hug of your pussy was enough to make his eyes roll back, there was barely any room for him inside you and every twitch of his dick felt like a shock to your system. you got a bit braver, taking more of him as you leaned against him, his head was leaned back and you didn��t like how far he was, tugging him by his hair towards your lips. and that seemed to be the limit of charlie’s patience, the sharp feeling like some kind of trigger. he was kissing you back fiercely, biting at your lip as he snapped his hips up, filling you up and making you gasp into his mouth. your hole spasmed around him and he kissed you with a bloody devotion, snapping his hips as your own hips bounced down on him, a new mind breaking rhythm that ensured your legs would go weak. you were dripping down both of your thighs now, the force of his thrusts making your ass clap against his lap and you swore you were getting air from the force of his thrusts. it made the way he filled you up even more devastating, abusing your cervix and carving you out with every beat.

when it all became too much for him, he wove a hand between you both, pressing against your clit and made you come on his cock, milking him dry as he came with a few more thrusts up into you. even after he emptied inside you earlier he was still filling you up and leaking down onto his sheets, clearly pent up.

your body fell limp against him, he ran a hand down your smooth back, soothing you while he grew soft inside you. you didn’t think you could move and he didn’t really mind if you never did. you looked so beautiful on his lap almost as if you were made to be there.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Nanook nsft alphabet

Author's Note: I was originally going to make a list of headcannons, when I realized that this would actually be a great prompt for them instead. So, I present to you: the nsft alphabet with the Aeon of destruction~ 💛

Pairings: Nanook x male reader

Credit: @/robothumpmycamel

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Despite being the Aeon of destruction, I do think Nanook would take good care of you after the fact. THEY can be surprisingly kind; tenderly touching any areas that hurt, or praising you for a job well done.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

As for THEMSELVES, THEY didn't pay special attention to THEIR own body before. It's not until THEY catch you admiring a specific body part that THEY take extra pride in THEIR appearance.

As for you, however, THEY admire your hands and arms — especially if you're muscular.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

So… you know how Nanook has gold ichor/blood dripping from THEIR wounds? I'd like to imagine that THEIR other bodily fluids are similar. THEIR tears are a more transparent gold, and THEIR semen is more of a milky gold hue. Or you could also picture THEIR cum being mostly white with glittery gold mixed in ✨ Sparkly gold piss as well 💀

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

……Don't tell anyone, but Nanook is a little embarrassed by how much THEY enjoy being your bottom 🤐

Aeons don't even know, nor care, about tops, bottoms, subs, or doms — but once you introduced THEM to the concept? THEY revel in the pleasure of submitting to THEIR human lover and taking your dick wherever you so please~

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

While THEY haven't actually had any sexual encounters prior to meeting you, Nanook is far from inexperienced. Perhaps it's due to some imitation of primal human instinct, or some other natural inclination — regardless, the god of destruction is the least virgin-like virgin.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Anything that keeps your bodies glued together. Smothering you against some surface is typically preferred, as is being the one smothered against a surface, when you top.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

100% serious. You'll never catch THEM acting silly, laughing, joking, etc etc. That's just not in line with THEIR personality.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I can't decide whether I like the idea of THEM being shaved or unshaved… I'm leaning more towards shaved, but Nanook definitely has a happy trail. And yes, all of THEIR body hair is white too ☺️

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Extremely clingy, number one. Number two, THEY can be rather romantic, though I suppose that depends on your definition of the word. Aeons aren't intimately familiar with the human concept of romance, per se, but Nanook's actions would probably classify as far more romantic than most other Aeons.

THEY are capable of doing romantic deeds, and THEY often do spoil you selflessly. You may not get a candlelit dinner or a calming bath together, but THEY show THEIR love in other, romantic forms.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Perhaps this is self-indulgent, but… I think THEY would look so hot masturbating 💀

HEAR ME OUT — picture Nanook, covered in a sheen of sweat, sitting on your bed with THEIR legs spread wide, and THEIR hand gliding up and down THEIR massive cock… tell me that doesn't make you at least a tiny bit feral.

Uh, yeah, ahem. I don't think THEY would touch THEMSELVES often, exactly, but if you wanted to watch THEM, and made it very clear that you find watching THEM touch THEMSELVES attractive, then yes I think THEY would indulge you graciously~ 💛

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Do Aeons have kinks? Dunno, but let's imagine that THEY do for a second.

Somnophilia — sometimes THEY'RE so desperate to have you that THEY can't wait until you're awake. THEY'LL slide it in while you're sleeping, or sink THEIR ass down on your cock without waking you.

Choking/suffocation (giving) — lord, do THEY love it when you plead for THEM to wrap THEIR strong hands around your weak human throat~ Or when you moan and whimper while THEY get you in a chokehold, squeezing you with THEIR arm. Covering your entire face with THEIR large hand is sexy too, as is pushing your entire face into a pillow or something while THEY destroy your ass~

Hair pulling (receiving) — PLEASE pull on THEIR braids when you fuck! Use them like strings on a puppet to control where THEIR head goes! Pull THEM up by THEIR pretty hair and show THEM who's really in charge!

Fingering (if that counts as a kink) — Mmmm fingers in your holes, stretching you wide open. Fingers in THEIR holes prodding around as if you're mapping out new territory. Making THEM finger THEMSELVES for your amusement. Fingers down your throat until your eyes cross. Fingers down THEIR throat as you tell THEM how sweet and lovely THEY are for you. Just, fingering in all its glory 👆

Breeding — how positively possessive it is to fill and be filled with THEIR partner's lewd life essence~ Nanook may be destruction itself, but THEY will happily breed you and be bred by you as if THEY can create new life.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

THEY don't have any strong preferences really, THEY'LL stick to whatever you prefer. Although, THEY will admit that the fantasy of taking you in front of a crowd is pretty hot. Letting everyone see who you belong to…

…Maybe the thought of being publicly fucked by you turns THEM on too. How shameful would it be for an Aeon—especially one as strong as Nanook—to be face down, ass up in front of THEIR followers while a human pounds THEIR boypussy and calls THEM all sorts of degrading names? 😳

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Nanook as a dom: Seeing you under them in some way, or purposefully acting submissive just to tempt THEM. And seeing you in a position where THEY can easily thrust inside of you (such as bending over, laying down, etc).

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Nanook as a sub: Seeing you be bold, confident, and take control. This applies to any situation, really. Watching you stand up to another human would get THEIR dick hard just as much as watching you put THEM on THEIR knees and lure THEM into sub space.

Just in general: If you use the word 'destroy' in a sexual context. Whether that's begging for THEM to destroy your ass, or growling out how you're going to destroy THEIR ass.

Sharing. Sorry, but Nanook is POSSESSIVE AF and would not be receptive to the idea of sharing you with ANYONE. THEY would treat another partner as competition, and if THEY get jealous enough, or feel as if THEY'RE losing you, things will get messy…

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Oh, THEY love oral. Like, a lot. Seeing you choke on THEIR massive length is an easy way to make THEM cum. On the flip side, watching your face contort in pleasure while you fuck THEIR throat gets THEM going too.

THEY have zero gag reflex btw. You can shove the largest cock or toy in THEIR mouth and THEY'LL be able to take it without issue 😘

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Sensual for sure. THEY tend to err on the rougher side too, but THEY use both a fast pace and a slow pace equally.

Now, when you're topping THEM—THEY may have become addicted to taking your cock deep and fast. Just absolutely railing THEM until THEIR eyes roll back and unbecoming moans fall from THEIR drooling lips 🤫

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Quickies are ok, but not preferred. THEY'D rather take THEIR time and fuck properly, with passion and devotion.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Yeah, I'd say so. THEY'RE not really afraid of trying new kinks, fetishes, or anything. Even more extreme/dangerous kinks will be fine.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

As an Aeon, THEY have crazy stupid stamina. Sometimes you can't even keep up — which makes Nanook quite frustrated, and THEY end up desperately fucking THEIR fist or fingering THEMSELVES until you can go another round (or 3… or 4… or 5… 💀)

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Not until you came along. You introduced THEM to the wonderful world of sex toys and got THEM addicted to having a vibrator in THEIR ass and/or on THEIR cock. There are occasions when dildos or other toys are acceptable, but generally, THEY prefer real cocks in THEIR holes. THEY especially dislike using toys on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

It's hard to say; oftentimes, Nanook ends up teasing you accidentally because of THEIR insane stamina. THEY can hold out much longer, and THEY usually insist on cumming together, so you end up getting edged as THEY work towards an orgasm.

Sometimes the teasing is on purpose, but typically it's out of ignorance 😅

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Ok so I'm not super far into the game, and I'm not sure if any of the Aeons can canonically speak out loud, or if THEIR speeches vary from Aeon to Aeon, but this is what I think: Aeons are semi-verbal. Nanook doesn't typically speak out loud, but THEY sort of communicate telepathically? THEIR 'voice' comes through a little hazy and distant, more akin to an echo inside of your mind than a real voice. It's hard to explain.

SO– while Nanook doesn't speak much during sex, THEY do grunt, groan, moan, whine, etc etc. In fact, you're the reason THEY began to make noise at all. Feeling your hole squeeze THEM so good, or feeling your cock ravage THEIR insides brought out a side that THEY never knew THEY had in the first place!

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Nanook really, really loves eye contact. But THEIR eyes are so intense, it's hard for any human (even someone who loves THEM beyond words) to maintain it for more than a minute. Prolonged eye contact usually makes you tear up and tremble, even if those aren't things that you typically do. THEIR gaze digs out this deep, intense feeling from your psyche.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

LARGE! THEY are large by human standards and god standards alike. THEIR dick is also uncut because I said so~

I HC Aeons' bodies to be four times the size of a normal human's (at minimum), so that would already make Nanook's junk pretty big, but then it's even bigger than that because I said so 😚

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

I'm not going to say that it's all THEY think about, but… after meeting you, and having THEIR eyes opened to the pleasures of intimacy and sexuality, THEY gained a wild sex drive 😳

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Aeons don't really sleep, so Nanook doesn't pass out after sex. THEY will happily let you sleep though, even if that means THEY'LL get trapped under your body until you awake 💛

[lightandfellowship]

I actually find the topic of "Nomura's evolving art style as he takes on more and more responsibility at Square (and subsequently has less time to Do Stuff)" really fascinating.

Like, If you compare his art from the KH1-DDD era to his current day art, I think there's a noticable difference to his approach: how many steps there are in his art process, how he chooses to finish a piece, and the shift from a clean digital style to a more organic traditional one.

He used to use very clean, black lineart; bold colors; and more instances of defined/hard shading for that digital, almost cell-shaded or vector kinda look. Nowadays he goes for a more sketchy + watercolor style with pencil lineart, broad washes of faded color, and color shading that's a bit more blended and simplified in places (relying more on the pencil shading to create distinct shadows), with the hard edges more often reserved for scattered, bright highlights. (He's made art like this in the past eras too, such as the KH main menu arts which all have a watercolor quality to them, but the lineart was a bit more defined then and less sketchy, and thus slightly different from his current stuff.)

I think the Dark Road key art is a very good example of his current art style. The sketchy, almost brown lineart. The watercolor quality that emerges where two colors meet and overlap. A little desaturated and earthy. Color shading that's very broad, soft, and loose, with sharp highlights here and there.

Both styles have their merits (I personally love this sketchy era of his), but I think it's pretty likely that he adopted this as his "main" art style in order to adapt to time crunch. He doesn't need to do time-consuming lineart and precise shading anymore; he can use the original sketch as the lineart instead. Heck, he can fill in a bunch of the shading via pencil during this sketching phase to save even more time, and then can paint in a more watercolor-y kind of way that allows him to color in quicker, broader strokes.

And then there's the occasional art mistake that has become a bit more frequent in recent years, by my estimation. Which I imagine, again, is due to running out of time to notice/fix those mistakes. Things like Ephemer's arms being a bit too long in this UX art, the Kingdom Key being slightly off-model in this anniversary art, or the ears on this Mickey Mouse symbol being two different sizes on this Utada album art.

(Which isn't to say that he hasn't made art mistakes in the previous eras, for example he initially got the colors of Riku's shirt mixed up in the Re:CoM cover art before fixing it, but I still think the mistakes were a bit less frequent back then.)

And like, hey. I draw, too. Amatuerishly, but I do. I don't blame Nomura for possibly needing to change his approach to making art in order to meet deadlines, nor do I blame him for these little art mistakes that ended up falling through the cracks. I imagine he simply doesn't have the time anymore now that his job has shifted from (primarily) being a character designer/illustrator to (primarily) being a director of multiple, simultaneous projects. Or maybe I'm totally wrong about this and his art evolution had nothing to do with time crunch, who knows. I think his current art style is gorgeous either way!

Anyway, I just think this is an interesting example of someone taking their art and adapting it to a difficult and highly limiting situation, experimenting with new things and finding the means to still make art even when you have less time to do. Also a great example that professionals are human and will make mistakes even in professional products, and it's not the end of the world, it just happens. If you ever obsess over a mistake in your art...maybe take solace in knowing that it happens to everyone. Even people who have been in their field for a very long time.