#man it's been so long since i've tried tagging a post normally

[silvertidescribbles]

Sweet Thing

“You made me listen kitten, to those cries, after flirting with me all day.”

Approx. 6.3k words

Pairing: Astarion x OC - See my little post about Alynea here. If you folks are curious to learn more about her, let me know :)

Content tags: MDNI, 18+ NSFW, smut, praise, begging, fingering, (mild) jealousy, depictions of blood/blood drinking.

A/N: Well, here I am posting smut ahah. Not a lot of context is needed, I've written it as much as I can into the fic itself. The vampire man has had a chokehold on me since the game came out, and I was compelled to write up one of my ideas of how he would go about seducing my tav while he's also struggling to keep his emotions separate :P.

Also, I have no idea how censorship works on here! Not entirely sure if this will get flagged in some way but oh well, such is part of learning. If you have the time and patience, feedback is appreciated <3 Is it strange to be nervous about posting smut? I don't know...

I hope this is enjoyable 😊

-Silver

-

Astarion waited impatiently in his tent, flipping carelessly through the pages of the novel he’d snagged during the day’s expedition. Despite his efforts, he found the tale within lacked the substance he needed to distract himself. Hells, he needed a distraction from what was happening outside his tent. He was positively sick of hearing Gale and Alynea geek out over magic together and he insisted to himself that he couldn’t be the only one.

Gale had made a habit of sitting late into the night at the campfire with the pale woman, a sneaky grin shared between them as they spoke of Waterdeep. Her a sorcerer and him a wizard, the two had bonded far too quickly for Astarion’s tastes, especially once it became known that both had been apprentices at Blackstaff. Even with his efforts to flirt with her, Astarion found himself further from the elf than he wanted to be. Another giggle from Alynea floated from the campfire up into the night sky, making him roll his eyes in irritation. Just how long was she going to make him wait? After all, she had promised to come to him after the others had gone to their bedrolls to let him feed.

Peeking out from his tent, Astarion was witness to how Alynea snickered at Gale’s words as she swallowed another mouthful of wine. The firelight cast a warm glow over her features and melded with the cooler palette of her skin and hair while her silvery eyes glittered. Albinism, she had said when asked. It explained the lack of colour in her, why her eyes twitched painfully under the bright sun and why her hair shone as white as bone, her pale skin only barely flushed with any warmth. As his eyes passed over the bruises on her neck, the memory of the first night she aided him rose to the surface.

“I’d hate to lose such a useful person over a little blood,” she had said so sweetly the night he’d tried to drink from her. “If that’s all you need, I’ll help.” He was honestly surprised she hadn’t staked him right there, and even more taken aback that she was willing to leave herself at his mercy. Alynea had struggled against him that night, body shaking as her blood was siphoned away. She hadn’t said anything in the moment, but there was something indescribable about the sudden head rush Astarion had experienced. It was invigorating and electrifying, sharpening his vision as a tingle arced down his spine. He would later confirm the wave of energy that washed over him when drinking from her wasn’t normal; the goblins he’d torn open a few days later did nothing to soothe the vampiric hunger the way her lifeblood did. Perhaps it was due to the magic she claimed burned inside her, though he couldn’t be sure. It was hard to believe at times she was such a fearsome spellcaster with her small presence and diminutive form, but the fireball she’d launched past his head earlier in the day begged to differ. Even though she was the shortest and physically smallest of the ragtag group, the rest of the party had quickly learned to not be the cause of her split hairs, lest they be the target of her next spell.

He was no longer reading the words in his book, fingers paused in the middle of turning the page as he realized he was reminiscing like a schoolboy. How embarrassing, he thought to himself. Sure, Alynea was another pretty face, but he couldn’t fathom why she lingered in his mind the way she did. The woman was a patriar’s daughter for hells sake—by all accounts she should be someone he held contempt for. Should was the operative word however, he was failing to find anything to find truly repulsive about the little elf. Perhaps the tadpole had scrambled his brain more than he’d like to admit. Before he could muse any longer on the thought, there was a noise that drew him back to the present.

“Astarion? Gale’s gone now. I’m… I’m here, if you would like.” Her warbly voice was soft outside his tent as she stood by, picking at the strap of the oversized top she’d chosen as a nightgown. Although intended for a man much larger than her the shirt made for an acceptable nightdress, if a little short. The sound of a book snapping shut alerted her to the vampire shuffling around inside the tent before the main flap was pulled back, a hand inviting her in. Crouching as she stepped within the boundaries of his tent, her pupils dilated as her vision adjusted. Being elves, the lack of light was no issue for them, Astarion could see her perfectly well in the dark, and he knew she could see him as well.

“Oh my... you’re in a distracting outfit tonight darling,” the vampire drawled. Alynea’s cheeks flushed pink at that as her fingers tweaked a strand of hair between them. “I can change if—” He waved a hand, cutting her off. “Oh I doubt that’ll be necessary. After all, I will be needing access to that pretty little neck of yours.”

She swallowed thickly at that, nostrils flaring slightly as his grin made her shiver. As she squirmed under his gaze a strange sense of irritation rose in his chest at the sight of her. The garment she wore hung loosely off her shoulders and low on her chest which left little to the imagination, the hemline only just reaching the top of her knee. It was a dress that, if one could even call it such, practically screamed sex appeal. Knowing she had been sitting shoulder to shoulder with Gale directly prior to this, jealousy stirred in him for a moment before he regained control. That bumbling wizard wouldn’t know what to do with Alynea even if she were to lie nude and expecting in front of him.

That mental image sparked a new sense of discontent in Astarion. He could hardly believe he was competing with Gale for her affections, dismayed at the thought of her possibly seeing them in the same league. In fact, he could hardly believe he was competing with any of them. Wyll was but a bright-eyed child, still wet around the ears. The warlock’s eyes shined with adoration for the woman, but it was clear he was unable to think beyond that. Shadowheart was just as bad, with the way she had roped the sorcerer into listening to her Sharran drivel. Astarion scowled at that, wanting to laugh at the absurdity of it.

Alynea cleared her throat, bringing him back to the present. “Are you alright Astarion?” There was an unknowable emotion in her eyes that made him shy away from her gaze, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Apologies,” he muttered. “I was distracted by a thought is all.” The excuse did little to sway her; she just stared back at him with those large silver eyes. Astarion tilted his head, seeing the way she looked down at the strand of hair she fiddled with. She was well within her rights to still be uncomfortable about the arrangement they’d made, though something whispered to him that it wasn’t fear of him that made her shy. Ever since the first incident, she’d insisted on giving her some of her blood when the group failed to find enough fights for him to feed from. Despite how palpable her nervousness was, she would take a deep breath and shake her head when he offered her an out, even as the anxiety rolled off her in waves.

Astarion shifted, adjusting his position to sit at one end of the tent with his legs spread. Given she was much smaller, he grabbed a pillow he’d swiped from the grove and placed it between his thighs. Frankly, she needed it, so he could reach her neck without craning his own horrendously. Alynea was fragile against him when his fangs were in her throat, and he didn’t want to risk hurting her more than he had to. Her willingness to let him feed from her was a gift and he would not squander it, he thought to himself. No, as much as he wanted to indulge, to feel her warmth fade as he drained every last drop from her body, he knew he couldn’t. Her generosity was one of the kindest things anyone had ever willingly done for him and he refused to ruin it.

He outstretched a hand to her to guide her as she sat down on the pillow, twisting around to press her back against him. The warmth of her skin was pleasant against his cool chest, something he always relished when she let herself nestle against his body. He paused at the way her muscles tensed when his fingers brushed along her ears, sweeping back her ivory locks to reveal her neck. The tiniest drop of guilt bubbled up in him upon seeing the lingering bruises from the last time, but it quickly faded away. He had plans to make it up to her tonight.

“Now, kitten,” he cooed into her ear, his lips only a breath away. “You let me know when you’re ready, darling.” Although she was insistent on letting him receive blood from her, Astarion had found she would flinch when he gave no warning before ravaging her neck. They had tried other veins, including her wrists or arms, but nothing had been as efficient as her throat for drawing enough. Despite how his gut would wrench with hunger at her scent, he found she handled the situation best when she was in control. How innocent, he had thought. But still he restrained himself; he could control his desires and he would.

At first, she had been telling him verbally when she was ready, but much to his surprise the last two times she had simply squeezed his knee to let him know she was prepared. Although she hadn’t been the quickest to warm up to him when they first met, it was the little things that told Astarion he was making progress with her. For all her sweet demeanor, she was a powerful sorcerer he wanted on his side. He’d slowly been gaining her trust and affection, and these intimate nights where she let him drink only accelerated the relationship. This time he was preparing to step things up, the scent of her blood filling him with a carnal desire to bend her over and break her.

“Sweet thing, you smell delicious tonight,” he whispered into her ear. She was wearing perfume tonight, same as the last few times. The aromas of mugwort and balsam floated up from her skin and filled his head as he remembered her picking the herbs earlier in the day. It was a sweet gesture, though it didn’t do much to distract him from his prize. Nevertheless, he was flattered by the effort. Sharp fangs slid out just a fraction from his gums, the pointed ends brushing along the cartilage of her upper ear. Alynea shuddered at the touch, squeaking out the tiniest yelp as one of his hands began rubbing along her arm. It was his attempt to relax her, to ply her to his want and to let herself go limp in his arms.

“Astarion, before you—” She paused, her breath hitching as his other hand innocently rested on one of her knees, thumbpad rubbing circles into her skin. “Yes, dear? What could possibly be the matter?” The low timbre of the vampire’s voice sent shivers down her body and she let out a short breath, unaware she had even been holding it.

“N-Nothing’s the matter,” Alyena stammered. Oh, how sweet that little stutter made her sound to him. She only ever stuttered like that when she was flustered, overwhelmed with her emotions. Those feelings always quieted down when he sank into her though, her shaky voice silencing to a soft “oh…” each time. He could hardly wait to feel her grip at his thigh, to signal to him that he could take her. “But I wanted to ask…” the man paused, lifting his head back slightly from her. She twisted around to look up at him and despite his best efforts, something twinged in the base of his stomach. A primal, growling desire rumbled in him, but he bit his tongue as those impossibly round doe eyes stared up at him.

“Um… Could you possibly take off your shirt before you do it?” A flush crept across her cheeks, a rare instance of her skin becoming rosy. “I… I like the way it feels, when you press your chest against my back, and…” Astarion cracked a devilish grin as she mumbled out her request, tripping and stumbling over her words. Something about it feeling safe when she was held in an embrace, how skin to skin contact felt, and so on. She blushed, biting a nail as she looked up. Liar, he snarked in his head. He knew she was attracted to him, despite her avoidance of the question when he had asked. She wanted a good piece of eye candy, that’s why she was asking.

“As you wish, so it shall be granted, darling,” he replied graciously to her. In a moment, his blouse was untied and slipped over his white curls, tossed aside to a forgotten corner of his tent. She paused to stare for a moment, biting her lip as her eyes took in his shape in the dark before sitting back against him. Alynea felt both panic and excitement rise in her throat as he settled back in, cool skin pressing against hers. She knew he could feel her heartbeat, smell the rush of her blood, though it wasn’t something she could control exactly. Truth be told, she had been working up the nerve to ask him to do this. She wanted the chance to see him up close without his shirt, and now she had her desire.

Although she had tried her best to keep the instances of blood drinking transactional, it had become more and more impossible. Gods, he stared at her in such a smoldering way. The way his eyes gazed into hers, how he cradled her body in his arms as he fed, all made her feel weak in the knees. The last two times after she had left his tent she had laid in her own bedroll, desperately chasing release with her own means. The loss of blood put a pleasant haze over everything, and she found herself soaked with need and desire as she fantasized about the tall, handsome man who practically eyefucked her every chance he could. She wasn’t stupid; she could tell Astarion was undressing her in his mind every time he saw her. She could only hope her eyes didn’t give it away as much as his did.

Astarion’s thumb was rubbing circles again. This time though, she tensed, feeling his hand far higher up than it had been previously. Where his palm normally rested on her knee, his hand had slid down to lay on her inner thigh. The hem of her nightshirt was pushed up, and she blushed seeing her own skin.

“Hm… you naughty girl, you’re not even wearing any underwear,” he purred. His voice made her blink and focus, becoming more alert to the position she was in. It made her blush further, realizing how she was fully lying back against the elf, heart thudding in her chest as his other hand moved lower, finding a spot at her waist. His touch made her voice catch in her throat, a particularly sweet sound coming out only barely above a whisper as he pulled her against him. “I…” she mumbled something, trying to think of a response, but finding none. Was he going to realize? Would he know she’d been planning this night in her mind all day?

“Shh, shh,” he hushed, his fingers dragging their nails over the milky skin of her inner thigh. Her leg twitched at this as his fingers moved closer to her groin, dangerously close. “Do you think I was oblivious to your antics the last two times?” His voice was a low growl now, a dangerous edge to it that she seldom heard, yet caused her belly to twinge all the same in response. “Coming in here, all perfumed, barely dressed,” he muttered into her ear.  “Sitting here, all soft and sweet while you bled for me” he continued. “To then go back to your bedroll and whine the way you do,” he added, Alynea shivering at his voice. “Fucking yourself on your fingers while you moaned my name,” he hissed, mouth hovering over her neck, just behind her ear.

Alynea closed her eyes, her face flushed as she felt her stomach tie into a knot. She should’ve known, she realized. Of course a vampire, an elven one no less, would have been able to hear her whines, no matter how muffled. “Astarion,” she whimpered, her hand squeezing at his thigh. A silent yes, her way of giving him permission.

“The last two times,” he breathed out hoarsely, his tongue dragging along her neck and paying particular attention to the two bruises he’d left. She quivered under his touch, a hand coming up to cover her mouth as she tried not to squeak. “You made me listen while you made your desires known.” Alynea could hardly breathe, with how tight the tension in her body was coiled. She was melting under every single touch of his now. “You made me listen, kitten, to those cries, after flirting with me all day.” She nearly palmed his head away when his fangs scraped along her ear, making her strain and push against him, rocking her body back. Astarion grinned, his arm coming around to encircle her waist. He had her at his mercy now, unable to pull away as his other hand pushed up the hem of her nightgown even further, exposing her.

“All while acting so innocent to me the next morning,” he growled. She gasped when his fangs pierced her, louder than she ever had before. Her body shuddered against his as she let out a low breathy moan, one that seemed to egg him on as his arm pulled her against him even harder. A sharp pain, now a familiar embrace, dulled her senses and made her weak as she became more pliable in his arms. As she lay there, she realized something; he was drinking slowly, much slower in fact than usual. Blinking, she opened her mouth to say something but only managed to let out a quiet strangled noise

Astarion’s cool fingers had found her. She was already wet, and he found only the slightest bit resistance as he slid his first finger in before her body caved, freely letting him push into her. His thumbpad now circled her clit and she let out the most pathetic little sob of pleasure as he continued to slowly, agonizingly slowly, drink down her blood.

Alynea let out the softest, sweetest little moan, her hips jerking in response. She wasn’t thinking, just moving in reaction to him. Still, he held her firmly, slowly suckling out more of her blood as he dug his fingers into her. Hells, he thought to himself, she smelled and tasted incredible. The arousal he had smelled on her had already tipped him off to her state of mind when she had entered his tent, but now it was a full crescendo. Her little whimpers and moans as she attempted to be quiet, to not wake the whole camp, were like a symphony to his ears. It was a delight to hear it firsthand and by his hand, rather than how muffled it was when she was in her own bedroll, crying into her pillows to reduce the noise.

“Oh, Astarion...” He stiffened at her voice; the way his name fell from her mouth was sinful. He hummed as he slowly siphoned more blood, increasing the flow into his mouth and making her cry out as he slid another finger into her. His other hand reached up, tugging down her nightshirt from her shoulders and freeing her torso from the garment. Her lungs heaved as his fingers worked away at her flesh, pinching and groping and massaging the soft skin. Her whole body jolted at the touch, hips grinding up against his palm. With a loud groan of contentment, Astarion released his fangs from her throat, continuing to suck and lick at the two new puncture marks he’d left behind. He would take more later, but for now his focus was on seducing the sweet treat in his lap.

“Fuck, oh gods…” she whispered as Astarion looked down, smirking at what he saw. “Just me,” he crooned softly. He could see the ghost of a smile at his quip on her lips, but it vanished quickly as she melted into his embrace. Pleased with his work, he committed the image to memory. Alynea curled in his arms with her eyes closed, brows furrowed as she squirmed, her chest bared and blushed pink in various locations where he’d pinched and prodded. She was such a pretty thing, pushing her hips against his fingers. “You’ve been waiting for this,” he murmured against her skin. “Isn’t that right? You’ve been wanting to fuck yourself all over my fingers for a while now, you little minx.” Soft, shaky breaths escaped her as she shifted in his embrace while he dug further into her, searching for the soft little pad of tissue that he knew would undo her. He chuckled, nipping at her with his fangs. “Answer me, kitten.”

“A—yes, yes I—” she winced when she bit her tongue fumbling for words as he slid in a third finger. She felt his chest tighten as he sucked in a breath, tasting blood in her mouth. Their gazes locked, her wide eyes looking up at him as his free hand moved to come up to her chin. Firmly, but still gentle, he gripped her jaw as he pushed her to look at him.

Astarion couldn’t help but grin at the sight of her. The smell of her blood leaking from a nipped tongue, mingling with her hot breath made his own belly twinge. Her pupils were blown out, a sight he recognized well as lust. She whined when he withdrew his fingers from her, but he tutted at her softly as he brought them up to his own mouth. “You are perfect kitten,” he groaned softly, reveling in the taste. The smaller elf shivered as his hand left a smear on her thigh as he adjusted her in his arms. He shifted her head to his other shoulder, adjusting his own body to better support her frame as she leaned into him, his thumb pressed against her bottom lip. This night was about her, not him, but she was irresistible to him all the same. The primal, carnal urge within him growled, yearning to take her, though he forced it back down. Not yet, he hissed at it. Not tonight. He wouldn’t destroy this. He wouldn’t.

When he kissed her, he could feel her heartbeat skyrocket. His other hand fell, resuming his motions as she moaned into his mouth. His tongue chased hers, the linger taste of her mixing with her blood, a soft groan escaping him as she whimpered. A sweet thing indeed, he thought to himself. He stayed there, kissing her and lapping at the swollen spot on her tongue that bled just the tiniest bit, enticing him to go further as he kept up the rhythm, fingers reaching as far as he could into her.

Alynea was speechless, her mind racing. Gods, she had been dreaming about this exact scenario for over two weeks now. His fingers felt heavenly as they moved rhythmically against her, every stroke sending another jolt of pleasure through her bones. She could feel her heart in her throat as he kissed her, a strong hand on her jaw keeping her there as his tongue delved into her mouth.

It was all beginning to be too much. Still, she did nothing to stop him as he carried on, feeling herself react more and more sharply the longer he continued. In the back of her mind she could hear herself moaning louder, the sounds harder to control as the pleasure became more intense. Despite the spells inside her that roiled and bubbled up, she kept it down as he slid his fourth finger in, the noises becoming more obscene as her eyes rolled back slightly, waves of heat continuing to build in the bottom of her belly. She had trained her magic well enough to not be worried about a mephit blinking into existence or thornbushes coming up to entangle them, but nonetheless she fought off the tingling feeling in her chest as the tension in her body continued to grow.

“Astarion,” she whimpered against his mouth, catching his attention. His fingers paused for a moment and she whined, rocking her hips slightly as if desperately telling him not to stop. “Astarion, I want you to bite me,” she pleaded, “again, on the neck.” She could feel him smirk against her lips as his fingers started up again, this time more feverish than before. “Oh, you sweet thing,” he whispered, hand still on her jaw. He tilted her head down against his shoulder and she groaned as she felt her orgasm starting to build. She could faintly hear him laugh softly as she began grinding her hips into his hand, biting on her tongue in concentration, legs shaking as she did so. With her head resting in the crook of his neck, she began to moan again, unable to contain her voice as she reached for her release. Alynea had wanted this for so long, her body was on fire with anticipation. She felt his hand leave her jaw, returning to massage her chest and she stifled her cries into his neck. His cool skin provided brief momentary relief as the pressure in her body came to a rumbling boil, but the rush of heat returned just as quickly and fiercer than before.

She didn’t know why he hadn’t returned his fangs to her neck and now she desperately wanted them. A part of her was laughing at the contradiction; his fangs sinking into her often hurt, yet here and now as she was a shuddering mess she wanted nothing more than that sharp, bright pain. Shivers rippled through her body at the thought, muscles straining against his four fingers he kept fucking her with. Fuck, she realized. Did he want her to beg? To plead for him to ruin her further?

Well, if that’s what he wanted, she had no qualms about doing so.

Astarion was a little surprised when Alynea’s hand palmed at his forearm. He didn’t really expect her to be able to think coherently in the moment, given how uninhibited she was making such sweet noises for him. There was something pathetically desperate about the way she weakly pawed at him, unable to put any real strength into her grip. Her head shifted, shaking slightly as her lips moved close to his ear. Sucking in a sharp breath as her lips grazed his neck while her nails dug gently into his skin, he bit back a groan as her tongue rolled over his skin. “You little minx,” he growled quietly, the low register of his voice sending a chill through her.

“Astarion, please,” she mewled. “Please… I need your fangs in me, I’m- I’m so close…” He stiffened a little at that, his own erection that was hidden by the pillow she sat on twitching at her pleas. He hummed, craning his neck down to the exposed skin. “My, my, who would’ve thought our fearless sorceress would be brought to her knees like this,” he crowed. “Moaning and crying like this, begging for me.” In the back of his mind Astarion was gleeful. He knew she was being too loud at this point; Wyll in his tent could probably hear her halfway across the campsite. He knew that the wizard nearby could definitely hear her cries. Perhaps this would finally send the others the message he'd been trying to tell them: She’s mine. She was his to hold close, to nip on the neck and to pleasure.

“Please… I’ve been… been so good, for you,” she whined into his ear, each breathy gasp making him bite the inside of his cheek harder. “I’ve let you take so much… so much blood,” she whimpered. The salt of her sweat left a tang in his throat, lips pressed against her neck as she continued to moan. He could tell she was getting close, with the way she was grinding herself onto his fingers, her heartbeat pulsing through her whole body.

“Oh, fuck, don’t make me keep begging,” she whispered. There was a frantic tone in her voice as she shuddered, continuing to grind against him. “Please, oh gods, I’m so close, I want your fangs in me when I—Astarion, please,” she wailed, completely lost to the hope of staying silent. Was that a tear he spotted in the corner of her eye? He could almost laugh in disbelief, though he would not betray her feelings in that way, at least not in the moment. Planting a soft kiss to her jawline, his fingers tangled themselves into her silver hair. With the slightest bit of force, Astarion pulled her head fast against his shoulder to expose her neck as best as possible. Alynea was shaking with need, sweat glistening down her body as he heard her voice become strained.

She was such a pretty little thing. And she was such an exquisite treasure when she was laid out like this, wanton moans muffled against his body as her nails dug into his arms, her hips moving back and forth against his fingers that continued to push deep inside her. “Sweet thing, don’t cry,” he purred. He could see her chest fall a little at the reassurance, as if some relief had come from his words alone. The sound of her blood rushing echoed in his ears, heartbeat thudding wildly throughout her body as her breathing became even more labored. She was right at the edge now, he figured. They had been at this for over ten minutes and the slow build up was clearly agonizing for her, to be this close.

His fingers slowed for a moment, withdrawing most of the way out of her, his thumb pressing harder against her clit as she cried against him in protest. She was so close, teetering on the edge of her release, but he shushed her to soothe her begging as he planted one more gentle kiss on her neck. “You’re right, darling,” he whispered. “You’ve been a wonderful girl, such a good treat for me,” he muttered against her skin.

“Oh, fuck!” Alynea cried out against his neck as the white-hot pain lanced through her own, feeling his fingers thrust back into her with full force. Eyes squeezed shut, she couldn’t see the wild and unfocused look in his eyes as he began to drink. The familiar hazy sensation from blood loss washed over her with force as he drank deeply, swallowing down mouthfuls of her blood as he fucked her onto his hand.

It was all simply too much. The pressure in the bottom of her belly swelled to a feverish pitch, before it all exploded. She could faintly hear him grunt as her muscles clenched, her whole body seizing up as relief washed over her, ripping through and out her body forcefully.  Her hips bucked hard against his hand, thighs shaking as they tried to press together. His fingers had slowed, but continued to gently fuck her through the high as she felt his fangs begin to retract, her hips beginning to calm down.

After a moment, his fangs finished retracting and Alynea’s gasps settled down to soft mumbles as he lapped at her neck, helping to close over the new marks left by his feeding. There was a groan from her throat as his fingers lazily withdrew from her, her body aching at the sudden loss. She heard him suck in a breath, seeing how the cushion she sat on was freshly wet as a creeping embarrassment grew in her chest.

He grinned at her, not a glint of shame in his eyes as he lifted his hand, dragging his tongue from his wrist to the top of his palm as she watched with a heavy blush. Then, he reached for his pack off to the side and tugged out a cloth. That was enough to erase any lingering worry she felt as her breathing even out. After a moment, she shivered as he wiped her down as well before he placed the rag off to the side to be forgotten. Astarion sat quietly, seemingly unsure of what to do next with the quivering mess in his lap. After a moment she shifted, twisting herself around and surprising him as her arms wrapped around his torso. “Did you enjoy that?” She whispered, head resting still on his shoulder.

Something lanced through him with those words. She asked so innocently, so sweetly, as if he hadn’t just made her lose her mind on his fingers. There was a tinge of authenticity to her tone, something that told him she wanted to know truly if he had enjoyed it. “Darling,” he purred. “You were marvelous.” That wasn’t a lie, he mused to himself. He had enjoyed it, watching her unravel because of his actions made something in him swell with satisfaction. Pride, even.

“The next time you’re so desperate as to keep me up all night listening to you,” he spoke softly, more gently. “Don’t torture yourself. Not when I can help.” She seemed to relax at his words, her eyes unfocused and hazy as her heartbeat began to slow. Exhaustion was calling to her, even as Astarion pulled away to grab another pillow. “You should head to your bedroll, sweet kitten,” he whispered. To his surprise though, she reached out weakly, fingers tangling with his own. “I don’t particularly… care what the others have to say,” she murmured. She was falling into her trance now, voice heavy with exhaustion. “So… let me stay with you tonight here. …Please?”

Again, something in the way she spoke shot right through him. The intimacy of her fingers entwined with his made a strange sensation flood over his face. Although her eyes had closed, he said nothing, only nodding. Pulling a blanket over her shoulder and covering her half naked form, he laid her down on his bedroll. He had never done this part of sex, he thought to himself. Though she didn’t seem to be asking for much. Perhaps she just wanted to stay where a bedroll had already been warmed, instead of making the trudge back to her own tent.

In the morning, Alynea would be slow to wake. When she did, she reached for the amulet Astarion had swiped in the grove, her skin shimmering as the lesser restoration spell shook the sleep from her eyes. To her back was the pale elf, still shirtless from the night before, though he had made distance between them overnight. She blushed when she sniffed the air, heavy with the smell of sex, the smell of her. Yawning, she adjusted her nightgown as Astarion began to shift, waking from his own trance.

Red eyes met silver, blinking silently. Sheepishly, she smiled at him. “Good morning." A slight smile ghosted across his face before vanishing as he sat up, reaching for his blouse. “Sleep well, darling?” He asked. She nodded, reaching up to trace at the nicks left on her neck. She flinched a little when pressing on one of them; the tissue was sore. She looked over to him, whose gaze had also settled on it. Astarion smirked at her, looking down as he laced up his blouse. “My apologies, darling. It seems the bruising is quite... intense this time.”

When she finally left his tent, she cringed internally as she briefly met Wyll’s gaze across from her tent as she slipped inside, hastily changing out of her disheveled nightshirt. She knew the boy had harbored a crush on her since his childhood, and some part of her felt bad knowing he probably heard her cries last night. Likewise, Gale hadn’t come out of his tent yet either. She felt her face flush at the thought of her friend lying in his bedroll, forced to listen as she had wailed so openly for Astarion, moaning his name, begging him to undo her.

Later, the women who had their tents on the other side of the campsite would ask why the men were so quiet. Gale, ever the gentleman, had the grace to brush it off as being exhausted from a bad sleep while Wyll said nothing, staring down intently at his food. Astarion however, had rolled his eyes, scoffing something about humans and their need for sleep. Karlach guffawed at that, pointing out that it was no secret that Alynea had slipped out of his tent this morning and not her own, her neck covered in bruises. True to her word, when Astarion glanced over at the elf, she was chewing on a strip of bacon as she peered over a spell scroll totally unbothered. When she looked up to see the party’s eyes on her, she blinked, swallowing before saying the simplest, sweetest thing he had heard from her yet.

“Yeah, I did. He was good.”

[semi-completely-original]

i usually don't post art here, but i'm unfortunately shadow banned on my normal apps since i reposted too many palestine updates. oops! i'll try my luck here instead

there's a fem!haikaveh takeover lead on twitter rn and one of the loudest champions of this is my lovely mutual who inspired this outfit by giving me femveh brainworms :3 she is a WOMAN IN STEM!!!!!

[thatonegayship]

I had to

Wait, does the cheating thing on the bond always works? bcs that would be kinda freaky for R!Dipper like imagine you get pinned down by someone in the corner of a br or smthng and then said person kissed you and proceeded to explode into red mist and you literally have no idea what happened.

Also, would the constellation mark be a "cursed" Mark over the years, like you would give birth to a baby and the doctor says "😟 I am so sorry ma'am,,, I'm afraid your baby has the Cipher Companion mark. ( could also be something equally as science-y like Ursa Major, Constellation Calamation, etc idk)" And you just burst into tears.

Would that mean that dipper would get into a special program(demon wrangling program or smthng, demonologist? Maybe)? Or would the parents hide it away hoping that Bill would never take their child away?

(Sorry this au is just very interesting to me,,,, I hope u get more motivation, keep writing author 💪)

These are all options! The fun part of reincarnation AU being left ambiguous is that technically any of them could happen.

[juustokaku]

Another load of Jealousy - Yunho x f!reader

Summary: Yunho isn't about to even entertain the idea of his girlfriend talking to another man. It doesn't matter how many loads of love, care, and cum it takes to make her remember that she is his and he is hers. Genre: smut (mdni!!!) Pairings: bf!Yunho x f!reader Tags/Warnings: SMUT MDNI, mean dom!yunho (kinda sweet after some time), sub!reader, fingering(?), penetration, unprotected sex, established relationship, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding kink, choking, bulge (lmk if something is missing, I have never done this) A/N: This is the 3rd smut I've ever written in my life... I haven't posted the first two since they were written a couple years ago and were bad, so I hope this is worth posting. The plot isn't anything great because this was mostly for trying to see what it's like to write smut and I didn't want to waste a good plot on this if this turned out bad LOLLL. So please, keep in mind that I've almost never written smut! Word count: 2 300 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ If someone asked you if you loved Yunho, you’d answer ‘yes’ in a heartbeat. He was more than just a lover or a boyfriend; he was your worshipper, kissing the ground you walked on. And if someone asked you if you’d ever cheat on him, you’d give a firm ‘no’ and tell the person off. Although you wanted to make it clear to everyone you were Yunho’s girl because you loved him, it wasn’t the only reason to push people away. You’d be in big trouble if he started to consider the possibility of you holding affectionate feelings for anyone else than him. 

“Baby, what are you doing? ~” 

Despite Yunho’s needy tone and presence next to you on the couch, you couldn’t tear your gaze off of your phone. 

“Wait a second, Yuyu,” you murmured. 

He watched as your fingers tap-danced on the small screen, obviously writing a message to someone. Someone who was robbing him of your attention. Your eyes reflected the light coming from the phone screen but Yunho’s eyes shone with something else. He was getting frustrated. 

“Please, I’m lonely,” he whined, his hand creeping up on your thigh, trying to go unnoticed yet wanting desperately for you to pay attention to him. 

Still, you didn’t even glance at him. It was subtle but Yunho noticed how you tried to hide your phone screen, leaning away ever so slightly. 

The longer your attention was on the mysterious person you were talking to, the angrier Yunho became. 

You felt him squeeze your thigh, silently demanding you to finally look at him in the eyes. It was a final warning. Only when his long fingers dug onto your inner thigh, you turned to face him. 

“Who are you talking to?” 

Yunho’s icy voice shouldn’t have surprised you – this was nothing new, given his possessive nature. And like always, while it made you nervous, it also caused your pussy to clench around nothing. You couldn’t help but get horny when he looked like he’d devour you any second now. 

“Just work stuff,” you murmured, taking a glance at his hand. No matter how many times his beautiful fingers had been inside you, reaching the deepest, sweetest spots, you just couldn’t get enough. 

“At this hour? That’s bullshit.” 

While Yunho’s eyes were cold, they were undeniably burning with both fury and lust. You knew the look way too well just like he knew your body. 

“I’m friends with him so I feel comfortable texting him even in the evening. It’s just about a work project.” 

“Him?” Yunho’s eyes narrowed. 

You were too nervous to break eye contact with him, but you didn’t need to see to feel his hand hover over your core, so close but so far. Even though he was barely touching you, he was probably able to feel how your wetness seeped through your night shorts. 

“Please, Yunho... Don’t tease me,” you let out a quiet whine, hoping it’d persuade Yunho into touching you. 

Immediately, he pulled you roughly into a kiss. In a normal situation he would have kept you begging for him, but right now his desire and anger towards you were too much to handle for both of you. His lips claimed yours and showed no mercy or signs of going easy on you. You were enthusiastic to kiss him back, but his need to have you was even stronger. 

The way he started nearly biting on your lips would have soon left bruises, if you hadn’t pulled away. The both of you were breathing heavily after the intense moment, but Yunho wasted no time in trying to rest. 

“Who is that coworker? A friend you say?” 

You felt your pussy get wetter by his demanding words and you tried your best to give him an answer – one that would satisfy him enough yet encourage him to fuck you senseless. 

“We’re not close, but enough to be considered friends-! Yunho!..” 

He interrupted you with his fingers suddenly under your clothing, circling your clit. 

“What do you need friends for when I’m here? Don’t I give you all you need?” 

You squirmed around at the movements of Yunho’s skillful hands. It was hard not to feel even slightly embarrassed; you didn’t want him to know how aroused his possessiveness made you. 

“Y-You can’t do work projects for me... I need him.” 

Your choice of words pushed the wrong buttons in Yunho, and he took his hand out of your panties. He didn’t care when you whined at the loss of contact, just pure jealousy burning in his eyes. 

“You say you need him? Baby, I’m all you need,” his voice was low and dangerous, “There’s nothing and no-one else.” 

It didn’t take long for him to have dragged you into the bedroom, his fingers wrapped around your wrist in a bruising grip. You tried to savor every moment despite knowing there were more to come after this. 

The streetlights outside were the only source of light in your dim bedroom. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness, but apparently Yunho saw well enough to push you onto the bed. Maybe he wouldn’t have cared anyways if he had pushed you accidentally on the floor. Whenever he got like this, satisfying his need to claim you was the top priority. 

“Strip.” 

You immediately started taking off your nightwear which you had just changed to after shower. Your hair was still damp and smelling like your shampoo. It was definite you’d have to take a shower again after this – preferably with Yunho. 

“You’re too slow,” he scolded. The way he started pulling your shorts and panties off was surprisingly gentle; even though he was mad at you, he was still your mere worshipper and saw you as his goddess. 

Finally, when you saw him properly, your breath caught in your throat. He wasn’t standing, just on his knees on the bed, but his height was still intimidating. You loved it though. You loved every moment of this, and your pussy throbbed with desire to have him fill you up to the brim. 

His chest was heaving with anticipation, and although seeing it bare always excited you, your eyes were fixated on that cock of his. 

“I-It’s bigger than I remembered...” 

“You’re going to take it nonetheless. You don’t deserve this after how you’ve acted but I need this now,” Yunho stated, his tone leaving no room for discussion. 

You felt like a prey, his next meal, as you watched him crawl closer on the bed and lay you down rather harshly. The intense eye contact just added to the arousal you felt leaking out of you. You needed him so bad, and your legs spread open automatically to give him way to your core that was aching for him. 

“You need a damn reminder every week of who you belong to. I don’t know if I want you to stop teasing me like that or not,” Yunho whispered, his right hand finding its way to your neck, “At least I get to fuck you like this.” 

He turned your gaze back up to him by gripping your neck, when you tried to look at his cock. You managed to see how its tip was covered in clear precum. It was as hard as it always was when you had moments like this, if not even harder. You wondered how it had ever managed to fit inside you with the impressive girth and length. 

“Look at me in the eyes. I want you to look at me clearly so you’ll remember my face every time you talk to another man.” 

You didn’t have time to process Yunho’s words. As he pushed his cock inside you, it was impossible to think about anything else than him. Although you were as wet as ever for him, it was still almost hard to take him in. No matter how many times he had made love to or fucked you, no matter how fast and rough or slow and romantic, he stretched you up nicely every time. 

“My girl. My baby,” Yunho muttered more to himself than to you. His hips had started moving some time ago already, but only now you were coming down back to Earth. 

His hand was on your neck like to use it to support himself, but the grip was still somewhat gentle. It tightened every time he thrusted in, and the lack of air just made you lose your mind in the pleasure even more. 

Your walls were slippery and starting to adjust to his size, so he slid inside with ease. It didn’t mean there was no delicious friction left though. 

“Who do you belong to? Him or me?” he growled into your ear. Although the pace of his hips had grown faster, he made sure to push deep inside you, drawing out every moan he could get from you. 

Your attempt to answer was cut off quickly as Yunho’s hands started squeezing your throat. It would have been hard to breathe even if you weren’t breathless already from having him ram your insides. 

“Answer me. A little choking shouldn’t shut you up like this.” 

Again, you tried to tell Yunho that you were only his to love, fuck, and take care of. But he held your throat tighter again, clearly teasing you. It was impossible to win this game, and you loved it that way. 

A mocking smirk spread on Yunho’s lips, “You don’t have to say it. I know you’re mine by the way I’m the only who ever gets to be balls deep inside you.” 

He released your neck and pressed his hand lightly on your lower stomach. It was no secret that your boyfriend’s cock was big, but the way you could see a clear bulge, the way your lower abdomen moved up and down with Yunho’s thrusts, made you clench down on him. 

“F-Fuck... You make it so hard to stay mad at you,” he groaned out. 

You watched his eyebrows furrow as if he was holding back. Finally, you had been able to catch your breath, although it was still difficult due to his relentless thrusts. 

“I love you. I’m yours, Yunho...” 

Your pleasured admission not only softened his heart a bit but made him even more lustful. He knew you were his. If you tried to leave him, he’d find a way to make you stay – even with force if necessary. But hearing you say out loud once again that you were his satisfied him. 

“I know. I know, my pretty girl, and I love you too,” his eyes met yours in a gentle way even. 

A loud moan slipped past your lips as Yunho’s fingers found your clit, finally continuing what he had started on the couch in the living room. Circling, pressing, and pinching on it – he did it all. Your sensitive skin tingled and almost felt like on fire. 

“W-Will you fill me up?” you grasped at the sheets under you, making them all rumpled and look unkempt. They were dirty anyways due to the sweating. 

Yunho moved your hands on his shoulders. There was nothing more that he wanted than to see your nail scrapes on his skin, a mark of who he belonged to. 

“I’ll fill you up, baby. My cum will be leaking out,” he looked at you before turning his eyes to his cock, slightly amused, “I’ll just fuck a new load tomorrow then. You’ll have my babies in no time.” 

His talk about breeding you brought you closer to your release, and he definitely noticed it by the way your pussy squeezed his thick cock. 

“Look at your pussy, how it’s clenching down on me. It likes to be bred, huh?” 

“Yunho, I-I'm close... so close,” you whimpered, gripping his shoulders like they were your savior. But you knew nothing could save you from the climax you were reaching quickly. 

Yunho smiled down at you a bit cockily, “Have I made clear who you belong to?” 

“Yes!” you whined, thighs trembling. 

“And who do you belong to, baby?” 

If you weren’t in such a state of mind-blowing pleasure, you could have teased him on purpose and said the name of your coworker. However, now that you were so close to coming, you couldn’t ruin this. 

“You! You, Yunho!..” 

A genuine, sweet smile tugged the corners of his lips slightly upwards. By looking at his furrowed eyebrows, it was clear he was holding back as well, near to orgasm but fighting back for your sake. 

And Yunho knew your body so well, that he recognized your sounds of enjoyment and body language, so that just when you reached the peak, he closed the distance between your lips. Your cries of pure pleasure were muffled by his mouth. 

His body shook and it didn’t take long for him to go over the edge, to let out a few stifled groans. Hot cum spurted out inside you, filling you just like Yunho had promised. 

“So, you’re going to block that man’s number, right?” Yunho mumbled, his head lying down on your chest. He could hear your heart beating rapidly after the intense session but eventually calming down to steady, slow beats. 

You chuckled, caressing his hair slightly damp from the sweat, “I can’t block my coworker’s number.” 

A surprised and disappointed whine fell past your lips as Yunho got up and pulled his now softened cock out of you. He looked down at your pussy, watching with glee how his fresh cum leaked out. There was a lot of it still inside you, but it wasn’t enough for him. Nothing was ever enough for him when it came to you. 

“I guess you can take another load then.” 

[skippiefritz]

reqs from @idanit and @beetle-goth (sorry for tags I'll untag if asked ^^;)

long rambly post ahead! Unlike what I normally post but its my account so I can do what I want lol

(This probably isn't the most historical thing I’ve ever written but! I will fix as I work on it more lol)

the implications of Bertie's bachelorhood if he were a bachelorette fascinate me endlessly

I read this post and it gave me brain worms and I've been designing an au around it ever since

In this au it's a complete genderswap with all characters, uncle Alistair (aunt Agatha) becomes more old fashioned sexist to Bertie, not thinking she can take care of herself. (sorry Agatha stans)

Which like. She can't. But it's nothing to do with her being a woman.

Bertie keeps her core character traits, but by merely being a woman living alone in 1920s London, she inherently becomes more independent and rebellious.

She's sneakier about her escapades, still stealing hats off bobby's and the like, but tries to be subtle about it. Emphasis on tries, she's still a Wooster at her core, and thus a very

big klutz.

Bertie is just completely and unapologetically her/himself regardless of gender, for better or for worse.

If humble pie is being served, she will surely go back for seconds every time.

I can picture her leaning very hard into the roaring twenties flapper persona, but still being a homebody at heart. Big of heart, dumb of ass.

The biggest issue of course is the engagements, it’s a lot harder for a woman (particularly one whose family wants her to get married) to get out of engagements. THIS is where the fun new plots come in

Obviously there’s the classic setting up her fiances with other women, so they call it off and marry their true loves. And the occasional making herself seem unsuitable to be married. (though, this would usually backfire, that would make it seem like she needed to be married more, so she had a man to take care of her and make her settle down)

Instead of focusing on making it seem she herself is un-weddable, she (and by she I mean Jeeves) concocts byzantine schemes to paint her potential suitors in the worst light possible, or to make them seem negligible so one family or the other would call it off.

I’ve been working on one such story, I haven't ironed out all the details but it ends with Gussie pushing Bertie into a lake. Of course. (I may make  a comic abt it when done)

Jeeves’ character is fascinating too, I see her being the classic “quiet competent woman who gets shit done”. She would be less respected than m!jeeves, but still far more respected than the average maidservant of her time.

I can see her need for fashion clashing with the maidservant outfits of the time, part of me is tempted to keep her design the exact same and make her a big beautiful butch, but…I know that's probably not how it would go.

Jeeves would wear the classic Maidservant outfit of the time, though I can see her styling it subtly to suit her more.

Her control over Bertie’s wardrobe, while still being “God this bitch has no fashion”, also has an undercurrent of internalized sexism. She’s discomforted by the more risque (by those times) outfits Bertie enjoys wearing, like her flashy flapper dresses and the like.

Of course, she’s also uncomfortable by how attractive she finds her in said risque clothes. (drama!!)

And they end up compromising !!! and Jeeves has a lil arc in learning to accept the new fashion wave and embracing bodies and whatnot.

Their dynamic would essentially be the same, homoeroticism, Jeeves being morosexual, Bertie being endlessly impressed by her.

also because of the ridiculous british nicknames most the characters are referred to the same, they just have diff first names, here's a quick cheat sheet

(I tried to keep them similar and also extremely english)

Reginald Jeeves = Regina Jeeves

Bertam "Bertie" Wooster = Bertha "Bertie" Wooster

Reginald Jeeves = Regina Jeeves

Aunt Agatha/Dahlia = uncle Alistor/Dahl

Augustus "Gussie" Fink-Nottle = August "Gussie" Fink-Nottle

Charles "Biffy" Biffen = Charlotte "Biffy" Biffen

Marmaduke "Chuffy" Chuffnell = Marigold "Chuffy" Chuffnell

Stephanie "Stiffy" Byng = Stewart "Stiffy" Byng (the implications of a man being named Stiffy are. different but Wodehouse had to know what he was doing with that name)

Richard "Bingo" little = Richenda "Bingo" Little

and so on and so forth!

Anyway uh, this went on for a while lol

I’m working on designs for them and will gladly share if asked! But they’re nowhere near done dhjdsh thanks for coming to my ted talk.

I don't know if any of this made sense, sorry if it doesn’t.

also for a bonus here's a quick messy collage I made of f!Bertie

[honeybewrites]

Proud of Tag

Wow I got a writers tag?!?! Thanks @kaylinalexanderbooks for the tag!!!! I got a little too excited to see that notification haha

Rules: post an excerpt you are proud of

Soooo I've never actually shared any of my writing. A spent a tad too long looking through my writings over the years. This is one I'm particularly pleased with, mostly because I finally nailed down (vaguely, this is still a first draft) how I want two characters to meet. So enjoy!!

P.S. I tried to get everything I could think of with the CW's, but if I missed something or another label would be better, please message me so I get it changed!

CW: condition, referenced physical abuse/torture, referenced blood and injury, referenced temporary death and resuscitation

The projections suddenly disappeared, vanishing like ghosts. Taking off the headset, there was no one else in the training cube. She knew better than to think it was a malfunction. No. Her training had been stopped for a reason. Taking off the rest of the gear, she set everything aside, standing and waiting in the center of the small room. Hands clasped behind her back. Staring ahead mutely. Waiting for whoever would deliver her next orders. Two minutes later, she heard Master Gerd's footsteps. Followed by another pair. The steps were heavy, long strides. Highly likely to be another male, though not a Master she was familiar with. The door to the cube opened. Master Gerd walked in, followed by a man. He was tall. Well built. Not as old as Master Gerd, but at least middle aged. Suntanned skin, white and gray shoulder length hair. A goatee completed the look. He didn’t wear the standard Mors black suit, but his clothes were certainly expensive and protective. The intricate knife on his belt and bulging bag with the Mirralian government insignia told her he was a respectable figure. One that was well above herself. But his eyes… they were like brewing storm clouds. Dark, dark gray, with a hint of white lightening when the light hit them right. Only there was no ferocity in them. They were gentle. Like soft rain in early spring. It was odd, to see that gentleness in a man’s eyes. What was more strange, was the fact he smiled upon entering the room. One that reached his eyes. Perhaps there was something wrong with him. What man would smile upon seeing her? Other than a perverted one she was tasked with seducing. Though his smile didn’t look like a perverted one. “She’s efficient. Loyal. Well trained and obedient. She won’t be near as difficult as your last Asset,” Master Gerd said to the man before turning to her. “Due to your increased injuries and… questionable mission tactics, you are being assigned a field handler.” She had become more careless in her missions. Leaving more messes and bodies behind. Coming back bloodier each time. Master Gerd had been growing more frustrated with it. Especially over her lack of tidiness. He’d said as much. Repeatedly. He couldn’t punish her directly for it, since she completed her missions effectively, but that hadn’t stopped him from finding other things to punish her for. The message was still clear. The momentary death and reviving needed after her last mission must have been the final straw. Though assigning her a field handler seemed a bit… unorthodox. She had grown more messy, true, but her completion rate had skyrocketed. She was completing missions normally reserved for squads or duos, alone, well under the allowed timeframe. Especially compared to before… no. Those weren’t things she should be thinking about. It wasn’t her place to question orders. She was trained to follow them. Nothing more. "This is Master Ronan Airvix. you will treat him with proper respect and you will obey his orders, just as you do mine. If I hear of disobedience, there will be serious consequences, is that understood?" "Yes sir," she said listlessly. "You've been assigned another mission. Debrief and objective has been sent to your comm. Airvix will be accompanying you. You leave tomorrow morning." "Yes sir." He turned back to Master Airvix, waving a hand in her direction. “Do what you will with her until then. She’ll comply. Though try not to do too much damage to her before departure.” “Her file has been sent to you. If you have further questions you may ask Healer Asurr, myself, or her if you wish. Though she likely won’t know the answers you want. She’ll need three hours before departure to prepare her gear and stop in Physical for her pre-check.” "Right, got it." Master Gerd left without another word. The door didn't make a sound as it closed behind him.. Leaving Master Airvix and her alone. She kept her position. Waiting for his instructions.

“I know Gerd introduced me as ‘Master Ronan Airvix’ but you can just call me Rage.” He chuckled a little. Hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Most people do. Nickname I earned myself in healing school. Uh, what else? Oh, I’m Mirralian, certified healer, and uh, I’m blind. Wasn’t born blind, result of an accident, but I’ve learned to live with it. Doesn’t stop me from ‘seeing’ and it’s helpful at times. What about you? What’s your name?” “Asset 703,” she said.  She wasn’t quite sure what to make of his little rambling about himself. Perhaps he just liked to hear himself talk? No. That didn’t seem to fit his personality. It seemed to make him uncomfortable if anything. So why would he bother? "Well yeah, I know your number, but what's your name?" "Asset 703," she repeated. This must be some kind of test. She didn’t have a name. Or at least, she wasn’t supposed to. Her number was all the identification she needed. Master Gerd had punished her many times when he caught her responding to a name.  Her name would never be spoken aloud again. It would remain buried deep in the crevices of her mind. Right next to the memories of them. She would keep those memories safe. Far out of the reach of the Mors. It was the only thing she had left to remember them by.  “Don’t the other Assets call you something else?” He asked. Brow scrunched. Frowning. “I’ve seen them call each other names before.” Many of the Assets did have names for each other. Most of the Masters didn’t mind. Even Master Gerd turned a blind eye to it.  But they were just Assets. She was different. Worse. So much worse. The other Assets didn’t talk to her, nor she them. If she was assigned a mission with them, they avoided her. She returned the favor and kept to herself. She was well aware her presence was unnatural. Disorienting. Unfavorable. There was no need for her to be close with anyone. She had learned her lesson on relationships well. Never again.

Umm, let's see... I'll tag @themboty @ink-enchanted @charlesjosephwrites @minamaybe @halfbakedspuds

[whumpy-muffle]

Medwhump May Day 4: Sedated

I've dabbled in writing fiction every now and then but this is the first time I've actually posted any of it. Couldn't really figure out a fandom for this, so OCs it is then (didn’t have enough fictional evil men in my life so I decided to make some of my own).

Tags/warnings: medical inaccuracies, drugged (for their own good), questionable caretaking, mystery illness, descriptions of what getting drugged feels like, referring to an adult as a ‘kid’, organized crime, mentions of bullet and stab wounds

Words: 924

@medwhumpmay

Vincent was worried. He was pacing back and forth in the upstairs hallway of the boss’s mansion. It had been three days since they had that unfortunate run in with a rivaling association. Three days in hiding. 

He had had his hands full with helping his colleagues through their injuries. Vincent was the only one with a medical degree so of course he’d be in charge of that. He didn’t mind fixing up bullet grazes and stab wounds, those were normal in this line of work. But the man couldn’t help but worry about their youngest associate. Angelino was in pain. He didn’t get shot or stabbed but he had been in pain ever since they went into hiding. The kid had claimed it was just a migraine but the mob doctor had his suspicions. A migraine couldn’t really explain all of his weird symptoms.

Vincent gave the bedroom door another worried glance. The Don of their organization had been in Angelino’s room for a while now. Hopefully he’d be able to find out what was wrong with the kid. The old man had known Angelino since he was a toddler. Surely he’d know what was wrong with him.

Suddenly the door opened and the old man marched out of the room. He carefully closed the door behind him before turning to his underling. “Give him morphine,” the Don ordered.

Vincent was taken aback. “What? Why?”

“That’s not a migraine,” the Don said in a low voice, renouncing the excuse the kid had given them.

Vincent hesitated. “Shouldn’t I ask Angelino first?” 

“Do you ask permission from our customers before taking care of them?” the Don agitatedly demanded.

Vincent tried to argue back: “But sir if Angelino dies–”

“I don’t want you to kill him!” the Don interrupted him with a hiss. “Quite the opposite, I want him to not suffer.”

Vincent looked on as the old man walked up and down the hallway, muttering to himself:

“He’s too stubborn for his own good, I can’t believe how skittish Jack made him, and his father, he really screwed him over with this.”

Vincent took a calming breath before speaking up: “Right. How much morphine should I give him?”

“Enough to knock him out, to give him a proper break,” the Don replied in a low voice.

So he’d have to sedate Angelino. If that was the only way to ease the pain and maybe finally figure out what was wrong with him, so be it.

Vincent entered Angelino’s room. The kid was lying in his bed. His long dark hair was splayed on his pillow and he had an exhausted look on his sickly gray face. He was clearly still in agony. During the first day Vincent had hooked Angelino to an IV since the kid had refused to eat or drink anything. At least the cannula would make the job easier.

Angelino suspiciously peered at Vincent as he made his way to his bedside. “Didn’t you have a meeting to attend?” the young man asked in a strained voice.

“Yes, I’ll get to the meeting once I’m done with this,” Vincent replied. He rummaged through the supplies he had stored in the dresser drawer until he found what he was looking for.

Angelino kept warily looking as the mob doctor pulled out a syringe, connected it into the needleless access port, and began pushing the mystery liquid into his IV line. “What are you doing?”

“I’m just flushing the line,” Vincent lied to keep the kid calm.

“Why?”

“To move the fluid through,” the doctor replied as he carefully finished pushing the morphine into the tube and to the kid.

It didn’t take too long for the drug to take effect. “Vincent, the hell did you do to me?” Angelino demanded. His voice was weak but the panic still radiated through.

“It’s going to be fine Angelino, it’s to help you sleep and to ease the pain. Just relax and you’ll feel a lot better after this. Nothing bad will happen to you, I promise,” Vincent comforted him. He sat down on the bed to make sure the morphine would give out the desired result. He swallowed down the guilt he was feeling for breaking the kid’s trust.

Angelino tried to fight against the drug but it was a losing battle. A warm and fuzzy feeling was spreading from his core to all of his limbs. His head felt like it was floating, the pain disappearing further and further into the distance as a tidal wave of euphoria rushed over him. The room around him was turning into a soft blur and he felt exhausted. At the edges of his consciousness he heard Vincent softly talking to him. He couldn’t make any sense of it. 

Angelino tried his best to force himself to stay awake but it was no use. He had barely slept while being here and the part of him which ignored danger was begging him to just let everything go. It didn’t take long before Angelino’s eyelids fluttered and he became blissfully aware of nothing more.

Vincent watched as Angelino’s head lolled to the side as the morphine rendered the kid seemingly unconscious. He looked at his now half lidded glassy eyes. At least there weren't any thoughts or suffering behind them anymore.

After waiting for a few more cautionary seconds, the mob doctor stood up and made his way to the door. The Don was waiting for him, just outside the room.

“It’s done, he’s out,” Vincent simply announced.

[ballcrusher74]

hello. are you. perhaps 👉👈 willing to talk about the inspector/faux. ive only seen cool arts and no context so im rather curious.

OK!!! I actually love rambling about my ocs so small questions like this make me day. I just get nervous LOL But! I will say, there's gonna probably be a bit I'm leaving out because it does involve my friends' characters and it's still an on-going thing atm (we tend to roleplay on lethal company as our guys. btw the oc group is called Cleanup Crew ! it explains the recent reblogs and new tags I've added on posts with this guy) AND this does also involve my own little interpretations of in-game mechanics and other things, but otherwise, I'll get the rest of him down!

Inspector, also originally known by the name of Terrance Conroy (or Terry), was a typical scavenger working under 'The Company' after a couple rough times on his home planet. (This information isn't necessarily set in stone, but the idea of him being a washed-up rock star before quitting his passion to get a job that pays his rent has been bouncing around in my brain.) He used to be a normal guy, trying to find a little hope in his desperate situation, and was a social butterfly. He tend to bounce from crew to crew, sometimes staying in some for only a couple days, and some for months. He was a very careful man, and looked out for his fellow crew members.

And then, one day, his first death on the job happens.

But instead of being greeted by a bright white light at the end of a tunnel, or complete pitch darkness, he appears on the ship again- completely physically fine.

This.. confuses him at first, yet he continues on.

And then he dies again. And again, and again. Over and over, the more deaths he's endured, the more he comes to a morbid realization that he can't truly die, nor can those around him. He tries to keep this truth hidden away from the others, as they seem to not have mentioned it at all before. He remembers everything. Every time he was ripped to shreds by an eyeless dog, every time he blew up into pieces from a landmine, every time he was shot multiple times, every time he was left behind or ejected as part of the disciplinary process- He felt it all and remembered it all. This goes on for the course of years (around 8-10 roughly) and over that course of time, he begins to grow very careless. What's the point of saving someone if they'll just come back? What's the use of tears when you're only a couple dollars off quota with a shovel in hand?

What's the point of it all? And with that carelessness comes selfishness into the picture. With how long he's been stuck in the cycle, he has become a very manipulative person, putting up a playful and nice persona on the outside- almost sickeningly sweet- in order to help other's do his bidding. He believes that if he were to cause so much chaos, disorder, and disruption within a crew, to where it's like animals mauling each other apart, he'd be able to break free from it himself. He doesn't care anymore about leaving others behind. He's desperate at this point to find a way out. Faux, who is an alter ego / disguise for Inspector, ties more into the on-going events right now, but I can give a basic rundown on his personality. He's a klutzy and quiet man, typically only talking to others when it's just him and them, and nobody else around, playing himself off as a selective mute. Since this is just Inspector in a jazzy little jester outfit, he still possesses all the traits of that man, just hidden away as to not blow his cover. He's still tugging on the strings in some way, people just don't realize. Sure, he's off putting and just a tad bit strange, but how can a goofy man like that be terrifying?

WOOOW ok that's a lot more typing than expected, but here's also a couple fun facts about the guy !

He stands at 6 feet and 1 inch, and is a very lanky guy compared to others, but this wasn't always the case. He used to just stand at 5 feet and 6 inches, and had more normal human proportions. With how many times he has died and how long it's been of the cycle, it has fucked up his appearance a LOT. Other things include : his 'skin' being grey, his voice constantly sounding like it's coming from a walkie talkie, no visible neck, his face becoming the helmet itself (it still bleeds, but there's nothing in there), and inhumanly flexible.

The only thing left of him that represents his last strand of humanity, is a singular, dim eye behind the tape on his visor.

He is very much not a rational man anymore. He is quick to jump to things, and won't hesitant with his actions.

When waiting to return from death, he is able to manifest in someone's head as a disembodied voice, and will typically mock them, or try and manipulate them further. In this state, he can see everything through the eyes of the person he's haunting. ^ Fun fact about this! This was originally based off a stupid bit where my friend was streaming LC to me with other buddies on the game and I kept telling them to step on landmines and then kill someone for a promotion, and then Inspector was born!

and UH I think that's about it I have for the guy atm! If the rest of the cleanup crew gets dropped than I'll update this accordingly perhaps. As of right now, enjoy my oc slop 👍

[thunderhel]

Fratt Week 2024

Day 1 - Blood Word Count: 2089. Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Not quite actually Fratt yet, More Frank just making some observations.

Frank, for all his flaws, was 100% human. There was no mutation, no alien DNA or secret government experiment gone wrong. Just normal government black ops shit that went sideways and a stupid jarhead they’d tried to make a patsy. Just a human man with a short fuse and the memory of his daughter’s limp weight in his hands and nothing left to lose. Red was a different story.

Day 2 - Bar Word Count: 3174. As sexual as you can possibly get while everyone is still clothed and pretending it's not sexual.

Red’s tongue rolled out the tiniest bit to push against his bottom lip before he pulled it back in, and Frank didn't know if he'd pushed his boot forward or if Red had slid his knees further apart, but either way they were now just slightly touching and Red said - “You think about me on my knees and begging a lot, Frank?”

Day 3 - Trust Word Count: 4182. Maggie Grace.

Frank narrowed his eyes as Red approached. “Can I ask you something?” Red hesitated, but there was no surprise. He knew the question was coming. His nod was almost imperceivable, but Frank would have continued without it anyway. “How long have you been sleeping with a nun?”

Day 4 - Spirit Word Count: 6041. Frank Castle & Leo Lieberman, Leo Lieberman & Matt Murdock, Leo Lieberman, Halloween.

Leo's got a Halloween party to attend, but she's not really happy with the mask she made for her costume. Luckily, Frank knows a guy who's willing to trade.

Day 5 - Pray Word Count: 3857. Accidental Drug Use, rambling internal monologues about sexual situations.

Frank might be drugged halfway out of his mind, but he can still recognize the basics of the prayer Red keeps saying. He's pretty sure he's not dying. A little stupid maybe, but not anywhere near death. Doesn't really make sense then, why Red keeps saying a prayer for strength.

Day 6 - Bag Word Count: 11161. Rated E. Canon typical violence and gore and death by shotgun to the face, Non-Penetrative Sex, Dirty Talk, Clothed Sex, over stimulation, Hand Jobs, ignoring our feelings like men while we get off in an abandoned building.

Red’s hands were firm in their hold of his face, a fact Frank didn’t really process until Red clamped his palms down, forcing their mouths apart by a few inches. Frank ran his tongue along his own lip, more out of breath now than he had been at the scene of his massacre, and waited for the yelling to continue. Waited for Red to deck him square in the jaw - he wouldn’t stop him if he tried. He waited for a judgment that didn’t come. “Who’d you think was in the bag?” Red asked, the words spoken almost directly into Frank’s mouth.

______

WOOO and I'm done! Only, what, three and half weeks after Fratt Week officially ended? It's Fratt month now, whatever. There is technically a day 7 prompt, which was a free day, but since I have gone so far past the deadline I think it's time to call it. But a huge thank you to the moderators of Fratt Week for putting this together and giving me an excuse to write for the first time in a while, and for not saying anything as I just keep posting past the end date. Also another huge thank you to everyone who has left comments or kudos on all of these fics. You're all so beautiful and I love you and you make me want to write more, so thank you thank you thank you.

I still feel this series was a little rough, but I've been out of practice and over all I'm pretty happy with it! If you have found any mistakes or think of any tags I should add, feel free to let me know.

[yuseirra]

Mm..; well, I went and checked the hikaai tag

I actually don't really look up the tags here anymore because I get nervous,

Um.. Um.. I'm sorry for being an embarrassment(I SURE POSTED A LOT...) But I found a lot of things worthy of drawing about them and there was something that really drew me in about the two of them!

It happens when I really like a ship. I enjoy thinking about two people sharing a very strong bond, having a deep attachment toward one another, caring a lot, I can go on about that and explore about it on and on. I never get tired of it. I've been doing it whenever I join fandoms. It's something I find very precious and these two had something intriguing between them.

I think...I'll be still able to provide more, thankfully.

My chest is actually lifted to a degree(if they're going to refrain from explaining anything at all??) Because I refuse to downright just take the guy as a monster when we DON'T KNOW how things exactly played out!!!;; why can't they show it to us?? The whole thing about lies? Covering up? Was that what this character was supposed to be about? Then ISN'T the public's perception of him what's WRONG because, he'll be known for being Aqua's killer when he ISN'T. HE DIDN'T WANT HIS SON TO DIE. THIS WASN'T THE OUTCOME HE'S WANTED, evil or not. That much is still clear. It's still unfair. If he's bad, let him face the consequences of what he's actually responsible for. We don't know. This isn't justice then! So, you know what. I am not going to take him as the evil behind it all. I could sense some kindness in him even if what's left of it's a remnant of what he's originally used to be. This wasn't a person that should have turned out this way. I could see it really well.

Nothing about what Kamiki's told to Aqua about the nature of the industry turned out to be wrong, did it? People flock together and they entertain themselves with stories, isn't that what's happened to Ai? And now it'll happen to Ruby? Gosh, this really does feel like a bad/normal ending route of a video game. What more did we need to unlock the "true end" and find out the real truths of what's been happening? Sad or Bad or Normal ending or not, however, the writers should EXPLAIN what's been going on still. What are they going to do if they can't do that within the given limits of their own piece?

Since things are so indefinite, I can take things as positively as I'd like, out of all the possibilities, huh? And I don't think it'd be so far from the real truth either... I don't really see Ai having fallen for some "monster" because they were smiling very happily together in their thoughts of each other. The positive emotions they had were mutual. He was so happy to be with her. That wasn't a lie. She wanted to be forever with him and he thought she made him feel alive. I think that's precious. Whatever they'd become. I don't think...Hikaru would have EVER tried to harm someone he felt that way towards. The guy used to be TIMID.

Oh this got long again but, since the series is ending there wouldn't be a lot to add about, heard there's going to be live action and Hikaru may get some scenes there? Seeing what the recent writing's made of him, can I..;; trust them to write him in a way that treats him like a human being? Idk, it's been so confusing because I was ALWAYS able to read out some parts of his humanity as he appears(I actually wholeheartedly resonate with the idea that the guy must have had a noble soul.) but they make the other characters treat him like an irredeemable villain that shouldn't be regarded to have a heart.

I'd like to think he was an essentially good person. And at least.. There will not be ANYTHING left to completely refute and deny me of this impression I have of him. I'd like to think Ai chose a kind soul to be her partner. What happened after she died and what's become of him...what is with this man? I can't BELIEVE that's still ambigious, trust me, I'm very strict about morals and being in the right. That's why I was so nervous. That's why I kept questioning. I need to know something in full in order to be able to judge something, it's unfair to do it without it being so and.. It seems like we'll never know. I'll never have to worry every week and question whether everything about him and Ai were to be lies. Maybe it is but??; I've come to the conclusion that their love was actually real. It did bring disasters but I think they really did care for one another?? Things could have been so much better. I think they really could have been happy with the twins and them having formed a loving family could have become reality, because Hikaru was never so hostile towards the twins after all except that one really freaky thought he had but HE DIDN'T GO THROUGH WITH IT. He probably.. Really could have felt Ai in a pretty solid sense if he did but he still didn't(no but what was really happening there????)

I can come up with some things. I'll do it, even if I end up looking at other works. Thank you for viewing my works regarding this couple ;v;)♥ I'm.. Glad to say they saved me some positivity left but that's not because the ending was good, it's because I already had it within me and the work didn't blow it out. I'll draw something about Aqua too this weekend because that boy deserves it. I have no idea why he couldn't just live unless he has to sacrifice his life to form a seal to kill his dad who can't normally be suppressed... Having him die... Really doesn't contribute to the story in any way the way I see it, I'd see if there's a point to it but I don't see it having any meaningful message with Ruby being how she is in the ending either. Her "growth" sort of.. Reverted back didn't it??;; so, it's better if Aqua just lives. Literally no one wanted it to happen. He himself wanted to live. What will become of his soul?? Tsukuyomi should take responsibility for having put him in that body and let him live a normal life!! He got caught up in other people's mess until the very end!

[bloomingstay]

favorite kpop group tag~ thank you @binniesbang!

who is your favorite kpop group?

stray kids, if that was any surprise

which member sparked your interest first?

hyunjin! i've almost always been pulled in by the dancer (lee know i know but) specifically the style of dance hyunjin excels in. the isolation is so satisfying and cool. for some reason choreo always gets a song stuck in my head??

But also!! I had heard they produced their own music and that really got me interested in kpop again

who was your first bias?

chris bang 🤍 went from zero to ult within no more than two days tbh…

what makes them your current bias?

oh god. um. i'll put this in the least embarrassing way possible. (this is a kpop tumblr blog I should probably get over it)

it was a particularly bad year. i stumbled upon their silly videos (thank you stay for the edits<3) and they made me laugh. then i started seeing clips of chans room and him interacting with the boys and just like... he's so wonderful. he's generous and kind and loving and thoughtful. just a shy lil guy who also happens to be a flirt and a fucking dork and it's cute man idk shut upp

who is your bias wrecker?

i was certain i'd never have one, i truly adore each of those boys so so much.

i was however proven wrong after a very sweet, silly compilation of binnie being ridiculous. followed by a face cam of his sclass performance in the supreme jersey?? and the curls?? he has such amazing stage presence and he's a great dancer. but he kept going from his cute sweet binnie expressions looking like he was just so into it and having fun, to the "dark rapper" eyes and commanding stage presence. and like, wow. 🖤 i am a sucker for that kind of duality.

which members are you currently obsessing over that aren't your bias/wrecker?

in another reality han is my wrecker. that boy is the epitome of what i used to look for in guys: babygirl. lol. well, and insanely talented and funny and everything. I adore him

after befriending a couple seungmin stans, i started looking for pics and clips to send them and found myself so incredibly impressed with him and touched by some of the things he's said and done. plus he’s a funny little shit.

hwang hyunjin is such a sweet boy. since we got producer jinnie on the last album i have been looking back and just so impressed with his growth 🤍

when did you first discover the group?

(Upon editing I realize I read this as ‘how’ but oh well)

okokok so

i was a kpop fan 2014-2017 and went all in. kcon and concerts the whole thing

but then i was just on my usual 6 hour yt shorts binge as i tried to fall asleep and saw skz reacting to the "your eyes" mv, specifically felix's part, obviously. i watched it like 12 times just cry laughing at han screaming, hyunjin trying to escape, channie hiding behind his hands and squealing. it was just so funny to see a group kind of clowning their own shit? i thought they were hilarious.

then i saw julien (solomita) had reacted to 'topline' and i was soooo into it. immediately went to watch some mvs and decided cool i'll be a totally normal casual fan of this group’s music….. :)

THEN a lovely lady i'd followed on my 10 year old tumblr account posted about skz. i messaged her that I’d finally decided to check them out and she was kind enough to answer questions and entertain my onslaught of messages as I screamed about how much I love these boys. and she still does everyday so. thank you hana 🌸

have you ever been to one of their concerts?

not yet~

what are some of your favorite songs by them?

THIS SECTION TOOK ME WAY TOO LONG. disclaimer: I absolutely could not include non ot8 this would’ve been 30 songs (I’m probably going to cheat)

Hall of fame. bitch ever since that live stage (which was the first time I’d heard it) I’ve listened to the sclass album 3 times a week no joke, goddamn it’s so good. so just know, i pulled almost every song from that album off this list when i made cuts

levanter. a hard pill to swallow mid relationship struggles and holds a lot of meaning for me.

secret secret. i can't get over how professional this song sounds and how it was just a few years in?

leave. where i got my username~ like I said, relationship stuff. You have not yet really bloomed When the new season comes I hope the warmth will make you bloom Into a flower that never dies

sclass. *bling bling* HIPHOPSTEP. such a fucking chaotic mess of a jam.

megaverse. the breakdown? MEGAPHONE. Han, bitch? We make the rules nobody can hold me yeaaahhh. Your body shakes - STRAY KIDS EVERYWHERE ALL AROUND THE WORLD. Sorry, flawless.

gods menu. ate, bitch. chan was something the fuck else

domino. neeed I say more

social path is bomb

grow up. read lyrics for the first time just now ow

eternity. told u I’d cheat.

love poem. big cheat my list worth it

I am going to be so mad when I realize I missed a song I listen to 7 times a day but been doin this for 2 hours so I’m calling it. Also forgive me I’m still working through the discography (backwards) and haven’t listened to the full first couple albums.

the adhd is allowing no further focus or thought so i will be tagging the same friends as my last tag post no pressure <3

@channieblossoms @skzms @roseykat @thefantasyden @seungsungracha @astraysis @channieswife

Thank you again @binniesbang for tagging me~!

[transmascpetewentz]

Intro + Basic Stuff

It has been 5 days since a transandrophobe has been horrifyingly disrespectful of a gay trans man who died of AIDS on one of my posts or in my inbox.

It has been 3 days since a cis gay man has whined about his genital preference in my notes and/or inbox when I didn't ask.

If you're here because someone accused me of being a TERF, please know that I am not. Read this for more details.

I can't think of a name to use on this blog so just refer to me either by my URL or a silly nickname. My BYF as well as a few blinkies are under the cut.

my pronouns are he/him, but any are fine if you're clearly using them to show that you respect me. they/them is generally okay as long as you aren't using them to dehumanize me.

i prefer gendered terms (boy, girl, enby) over neutral terms, but i will block you if you use "girl" in a misgendering sense. malewife and similar terms are fine. also, this is highly unlikely to come up, but please don't call me "queen."

i'm USAmerican, and when i'm talking about issues, i'm likely talking about USAmerica unless i indicate otherwise.

i'm currently having brainrot about: fall out boy, american idiot, red white and royal blue, fallout new vegas, and velvet goldmine (the 1998 film).

i also post untagged discourse on this blog, specifically talking about transmasc issues, trans liberation, queer liberation, and how to be normal about transmascs if you aren't one.

i'm also looking into converting to judaism, and as such i might post about conversion and judaism in general. filter #judaism if you don't want to see it.

i'm part of a system, so it might not always be the same person answering asks. i probably won't post about it mostly because i want to stay out of syscourse.

all original posts are #wentz.txt, asks are #asks. if i ever have photos of myself on here, they'll be #wentz.jpg.

this blog runs on a queue, so just because i post doesn't mean i've been online recently.

this is my alternate account. i have a main blog that i'm ignoring due to harassment. if you have me blocked on my main and try to follow me here, i'm blocking you for your own sake.

cis women are welcome to follow but don't touch any of my posts making fun of cis gay men or i will bite you.

blog rules:

no, i'm never sharing my age on here.

tag filtering: flashing, eyestrain, loud, violence cw, sexual assault cw, pedophilia cw, self harm cw, suicide cw, not worksafe, long post, anon hate, arguing with bigots, fascism cw.

please do not ask me about whether i am pro or anti ship, whether i support endogenic systems, or my views on intracommunity issues i'm not part of.

i'm autistic and as such might not understand if i'm making you uncomfortable. please either block me or DM me and tell me to stop doing something.

i won't reblog your callout post, reblog bait, guilt tripping, or donation post. an exception might be made for your donation post if we're mutuals.

if i don't block you, then i don't mind you following me. i don't softblock. please don't softblock me either, just block or else i'll refollow.

if i have reblogs enabled on a post, i'm fine with anyone reblogging it. if i have replies enabled, i'm fine with anyone replying.

if you're going to send anon hate, it has to be interesting, original, funny, and/or creative.

also, if you're going to send anon hate, please refrain from calling me slurs, sending me death threats, sexually harassing me, or misgendering me. also, please censor the name sh***a, or don't use the name at all in your ask.

i don't really have a dni, but i will block you if: you fetishize gay men or trans men, you support capitalism and/or cops, you glorify the actions of the ussr, you deny that transandrophobia exists, you think that feminine cis men are more oppressed than feminine trans men.

actually, i have to add a dni now: please dni if you falsely accuse gay men who died of aids of sexual assault. yes, someone like this tried to interact with me.

That should be it for now!

[stardust-3saders]

LiaTaro (mostly Jotaro focused) Headcanons!

I've been wanting to post some more bits of writing, more when it comes to the behavior of the poly and some personal headcanons I have.

Big thanks to my friend @magthemage for the help with these! I don't oftenly see people do it, but talking with someone who doesn't have a character (in this case Jotaro) as F/o helps a lot to brainstorm while staying away from it becoming oof XD

Anyway! Here they are! I don't think there's anything to tag as warning, just a bit of Jotaro's PTSD but nothing else, so dw!

Under the cut because they're kinda lengthy!

Tag list: @spookysinner45 @iceicewifey

Lemme know if you want to be added by answering this form! 💜

Let's put straight a fact that, sadly, a lot of people seem to forget: Intimacy is hard. Especially with characters that were written during the 80s boom of the hypermasculinity trope.

There are three distinct characteristics associated with the hypermasculine personality: the view of violence as manly, the perception of danger as exciting and sensational, and callous behavior toward women and a regard toward emotional displays as feminine.

Something quite fitting for Kujo Jotaro. And when it came to him joining Lia and Noriaki's relationship, this was a recurring issue.

Not having a healthy model that showed him the kind of affection it was normal to share with a partner since Sadao was rarely around, his personality and factors such as his PTSD after Egypt; things had a rough start.

Yet, something that we know defines Jotaro, is how he doesn't like the idea of giving up, even when it comes to something he isn't used to.

So in order to get to a healthy and understanding point in their relationship, Lia had to spend a lot of time, effort, and probably have an ulcer removed, to try to get Jotaro to a point where he's a bit more able to express his feelings without him feeling like he has failed himself.

It's not like Jotaro doesn't feel, but rather that he can't express things normally, or it would go against his core values.

⭐One of the first things that Lia managed to establish was a different way to communicate. Because saying "I love you" just made Jotaro feel weak and vulnerable, Lia proposed an alternative: for him to squeeze her hand twice. Same meaning, but without forcing him into an uncomfortable position.

It was like Jotaro had seen the moon for the first time in years.

What started with him trying that just before sleep, and with Lia answering in kind, turned to him grabbing Lia's hand and squeezing over the smallest things. As a compliment to a thank you, as a random gesture, or just her being close.

It had been a long evening. With Noriaki being not only the last to arrive home, but also having returned absolutely exhausted; the usual chores shared by the trio were left in charge of Lia and Jotaro.

Unlike their usual routine, this time there was a heavy–although not uncomfortable– silence between the pair.

Still, as efficient as always, anything left to clean and put away in the kitchen was soon finished.

Lazily, the couple walked towards their respective bedrooms (Kujo having one of his own to avoid stepping over his boundaries and keeping the steady process of him feeling more comfortable). However, as Lia finished bidding him goodnight with a yawn, she felt herself being stopped by a bigger hand grabbing onto hers.

“Jojo?” She looked up at him, her head tilted in confusion as she noticed how he tried to avoid her gaze.

Yet, before she could call out to him again, she felt his hand gently squeezing hers twice.

Being the first time he had used this way of showing affection, she couldn't stop her mouth from opening slightly in surprise.

Barely catching sight of blush on his face due to the lack of light, her face softened.

She squeezed his hand in return with a soft smile directed to the man, finally letting go and allowing each other to retreat to their rooms for the night.

⭐While Jotaro was incapable of outwardly expressing his affection with words, Lia noticed that he normally roamed towards silent actions, kind of expecting her to understand them.

Examples of this were when she normally complained that her children were being absolute brats and making the class more difficult to handle, Jotaro would just reply "わかった" (got it) and stop communication, only for Lia to arrive home with Jotaro having actually gone out of his way to purchase food from a local mom-and-pop shop on the way home.

While he normally doesn't expect to be thanked for it, every time Lia does, he simply turns around, pulls his cap down and mutter an "...うん", busying himself with anything else available nearby just so Lia doesn't catch him making a silly smile.

⭐We know that due to his PTSD, Jotaro has a hard time sleeping almost every night. He normally tosses and turns, and sometimes hits things in his sleep, another reason he normally waits for Lia and Noriaki to be asleep for him to move to his room.

But sometimes Lia finds him sitting in the middle of the night on the balcony, cigarette in hand, trying to calm his nerves.

And being aware of his silent nature, and how easily it is for him to instantly return to his shell; she simply sits next to him, waiting for him to show any sign of him wanting a physical interaction like touching her hand or thanking her for being there.

That's when she knows she can try to physically reassure him, with little things like caressing his back, leaning against him or even let him rest his head on her thighs, something he absolutely adores doing, but is ashamed to do when Nori is awake and around... or when anyone else can see him.

And if her touch doesn't feel enough, she'll even goof around a bit, just like the few times they actually talked in the past while alone. Not as annoying as she used to be, but still enough as to get his mind distracted from whatever is troubling him those nights.

January was never an easy month.

Despite bad memories being left in the past, the seasonal drop in mood always brought back a bad taste in everyone's mouth.

A taste of bile and blood.

Being well accustomed to the weight at her sides during the night, it wasn't strange for Lia to be woken up as soon as her mind noticed the empty spot on the bed.

It was a routine event at this point. The memories of that night affected Jotaro more than often to anyone. Because, while Noriaki had also been in a pretty bad situation that almost cost his life, the difference was that the redhead actually knew how to reach out for help. And after many years of therapy, he was able to ground himself better.

For Jotaro, on the other hand, it was as if any progress he had made through the years suddenly disappeared. He hid himself away from others, resorting to smoking, although it was a habit he had been trying to quit.

And having gone through the same situation quite a couple of times before, Lia knew exactly where to find him.

Quickly going to grab some water from the kitchen, she went to the balcony, finding Kujo seated on the floor of the balcony, lazily dangling a cigarette between his fingers as his leg anxiously bounced up and down.

Frowning as her gaze landed on him, she knocked softly on the door frame, letting him know about her arrival without startling him.

With the dim light that the moon provided him, she barely caught a glimpse of him looking at her by the corner of his eye. This, accompanied by the motion of his leg stopping, was enough to let her know that he was aware of her presence at his side.

In slow movements, she sat down at his side, leaving enough space between their bodies to avoid touching him before he felt comfortable and calm enough. She placed the glass in the space between them, a small smile forming on her lips as she saw him take it, slowly taking a sip from it before placing it back down.

The pair spent a few minutes in silence, bashing in the soft sounds of the night. Yet, Lia couldn’t help but to scrunch her nose as the smoke from his cigarette reached her and tickled her throat, threatening to make her cough.

Noticing this, the raven frowned, letting out a tired sigh as he put out the lit cigarette.

“You didn’t have to do that, y’know?” Lia frowned at him, removing a hand that she unconsciously had moved to cover her nose and mouth.

“You don’t like it”

She let out a sigh, hugging her legs against her chest and resting her head on her knees before directing her gaze towards him.

“It’s true that I don’t like it… and that I wish you used a healthier alternative to calm down. But I can’t force you to stop doing it.”

Jotaro raised a brow at her, incredulous of what she had said after she spent so many times reprimanding him for the smell of tobacco and the smoke.

“You still bitch about it” He said, his tone having a hint of playfulness rather than annoyance.

“It's not bitching, it's giving you advice!” she frowned as she heard him scoff lightly. “I mean it!”

She turned in place, her body fully facing him as she sat cross legged at his side.

“It's as if one day I arrived and told you and Nori that I'm gonna drop everything to become, I don't know… an idol. You cannot forbid me from doing it, but you can give me advice about how bad of an idea that is.”

He looked at Lia for a few seconds, his brow still raised as he processed her words, before letting out a sigh as he crossed his arms, looking back to the city.

“Yeah, because you suck at singing”

Lia could only frown at his words, a small pout forming on her lips as she glared at him.

“I'm going to take that as you understanding my point rather than trying to attack me”

She turned back to her original sitting position, lightly and playfully bumping into him as she leaned against his arm.

Still, a small smile formed on her lips as she heard the faintest chuckle coming from him, noticing how he seemed more relaxed than when she arrived.

She looked up at him for a moment, making Jotaro look down at her as he felt Lia's gaze on him, a questioning look on his face.

“We’re not going anywhere, and you're not going to end up alone. Please keep that in mind.”

Just as Lia finished speaking, she noticed a glimpse of something in his eyes. A mix of surprise and something else…

Yet, before she could even mention it, her sight went black, and soon enough she noticed his cap somehow on her head, blocking her view.

“When did you even-?”

“Shut up”

Ah, that tone. For someone random, it would sound like the same monotonous tone he always had, but she could easily distinguish the light embarrassment it hid under.

She couldn't help but to chuckle, shaking her head in amusement as she leaned further into him, deciding to give him some peace of mind and keep quiet, at least for that night.

She would make sure of teasing him enough once the next day arrived, though.

[edensflaw]

What Sleep Token Has Done for My Heartbreak

I am a relatively new listener of Sleep Token, only have listened to them since August of 2023. But man, when I tell you I have fallen deep and hard for this band, I mean it. I have joined subreddits and discords, I follow tags on tumblr, and so so many instagram accounts. They're music feels so deeply personal to me. The lyrics feel like they fell out of my heart with the emotion that emits from them.

August of 2023 is also when I experienced a very traumatic separation from my now ex-spouse. They confessed to multiple acts of infidelity after trying to work through an emotional/romantic affair they were having at the time. To say I felt betrayed is an understatement. We had been together for 16 years. All of my young adulthood I was with this one person. Unsurprisingly, I fell into a heavy depression.

At first, I discovered Bad Omens. My anger was raw and all encompassing, and Bad Omens seemed to capture that so perfectly. I listened to them non-stop for a long time.

And then I came across Sleep Token thanks to Tiktok. I had listened to them earlier that same year - just once, a few songs - and I remember just feeling sort of indifferent towards them. I honestly think my heart wasn't ready to hear or feel what they were saying. I knew the pain they sang of, but I was still in deep denial about my own relationship and the pain my partner was causing me.

When I listened to them again post-separation - it started with Granite. And the lyric that hooked me - line and sinker: "If you had a problem / Then you should've told me / Before you started getting all aggressive and controlling". At so many points in my relationship I was not being told things and that led to a lot of aggression. Naturally, i tried to control things because that’s a normal human thing to do when you sense that something is changing in a way you never wanted. Like when a stack of dishes starts to fall and you, rather uselessly, put your hands out to try to catch them, stop them from breaking. Ultimately your action is useless, the dishes still break despite your efforts. And it wasn’t even a conscious effort, just a reaction. And from that point on I feel deeper and deeper into my love of Sleep Token.

The next song I remember hitting me hard is Aqua Regia. “Oh, when I am done dancing to alarm bells/No wonder my ears are still ringing/And I am done fighting off change/No wonder my arms are still swinging”. Early into our separation, when my emotions were still very much raw I would find myself still fighting with my ex in my head - talking to myself and continuing fights we would have repeatedly. Alarm bells were still very much ringing in my head and even though the fighting had stopped between the two of us, I, myself, would find myself still arguing thin air. 

In a moment in my life where I felt very much isolated and alone and removed from everything that had ever felt familiar, it felt so reassuring to know somebody, somewhere, felt what I was feeling. I felt seen. I felt heard. Especially coming from such a toxic relationship where I was not feeling heard or seen by my partner. 

There are a lot of Sleep Token songs that seem an obvious choice when it comes to heartbreak. Missing Limbs is one of those songs. 'Cause it still makes my blood run cold/To remember what I did before’ The person I became in such a toxic environment is not someone to be proud of. I’ve talked in therapy a lot about how I struggle with being the person I thought I was when I know I’m capable of such horrible things. The environment really does make the person. ‘The stories that you never told to me’ A lot of our fights were about their lying and their secrets. How I would beg them to just talk to me and how much they would absolutely just shut down and shut me out. ‘And it still makes my blood run thin/To remember what you are to him/And I live like I've got missing limbs/For you’ And to remember what their affair partner means to them - it makes my heart drop into my stomach and my stomach drop into my gut; it makes my blood boil and brain go from zero to sixty. And yet, even with all the knowledge I have now of just how much my ex betrayed me - it very much feels like I’m missing a part of my physical body without them in my life. I have achieved a level of peace I haven’t felt in a while and I am proud of myself for getting to this point, but even with all of that something feels like it’s missing. Like a lizard discarding its tail. 

I could probably go through every Sleep Token song and break down how each word relates back to me and what I was feeling. Blood Sport, Dark Signs, DYWTYLM, the Love You Want, etc. There’s very much a theme of eating, consuming, biting flesh, etc. in Sleep Token’s lyrics. I would’ve crawled inside my partner if it meant that we wouldn’t be separated. I would have consumed them. I let my love for them consume me, mind and body. I let them consume me. I trusted them so much I bared my stomach, the most delicate parts of me, and they tore into them like a wolf that hadn’t eaten in weeks, all the while telling me they weren’t. 

The emotions Vessel presents when singing, it feels like such a dichotomy within himself. There is such a longing, a yearning, for what was, what is comfortable, the love he knows he could get if he made the right (or wrong) sacrifices. The yearning is a literal pain and that pain is often mistaken for love, but for the wrong reasons. 

Then there’s those moments where the fog clears he realizes just how much Sleep has wronged him, used him and that makes him so angry, and rightfully so. There’s such a quiet rage that’s just bubbling beneath the surface. And when that rage comes out there’s almost a sort of regret that comes along with that. A regret for the relationship itself yes, but also regret for the way he acted while with Sleep, and regret for the anger he feels. Vessel's relationship with Sleep feels very familiar to me and my ex. 

There was a post recently by melit0n about the song Jaws. In the tags of my reblog of that post I put "And if my love doesn't love me anymore I know Vessel is capable of love and maybe that means someone can love me like that too".

But it's more than that. I loved it like Vessel does/did. I gave so much of myself to someone that didn't deserve it and was ultimately so toxic and bad for me, much like Vessel's and Sleep's relationship. Sleep is narcissistic and toxic and is only using Vessel as a means for their own selfish ends. And I very much feel like that's how my relationship ended even if that's not how it started.

Vessel's lyrics feel so deeply personal to me because I've lived them. I've lived that feeling of being so consumed by love for another being that I was willing to let it destroy me, body and soul. Vessel knows the pain and struggle I feel: that feeling of longing and yearning for something you know is no good for you and at the same time the anger expressed because how dare they use me?! 

This was a very long winded explanation and I’m sure half of it doesn’t even make sense. I’ve been thinking for a long time about putting down into words what this band and their music has done for me during these months of navigating this heartbreak and putting my life back together. They’ve been such an important part of it and even if I never get the opportunity to express what they mean to me to them directly, if you’ve read this far into this already long post at least someone else maybe gets it. 

Thanks for reading, friend. Because yes, if you’ve read this far and this deep into my life, we are friends now. 

[arc-77]

// I am HOPELESSLY addicted to Fallout 4 at the moment so my muse/motivation/time to write has dwindled, so apologies for the lateness on my many replies, it is what it is, etc. etc. Feel free to hit me up on/for my Discord, I've been prioritizing there.

However this has given me a lot of thoughts about how Fordo would act as an in-game companion, so if any of you have Fallout muses that could use a power-armored space man, hit me up. Some ramblings below the cut.

Fordo is still the same post-Jakku Star Wars Fordo from the rest of my verses, but his ship has had its Hyperdrive disabled by the Zetans, so he's scouring the American wastelands for more aliens for technology with which he can use to fix it.

His black armor is easily mistakable for something the Enclave might wear and it can potentially get him and the player into some trouble, which you will need to talk down. He never takes off his helmet and you can't get him out of the armor. His default ranged weapon is a tri-beam laser rifle and his melee weapon is part of a vertibird's rotor blade, but you can give him different weapons. When sneaking, he activates a powerful stealth-field that also muffles the sound of his heavy footsteps.

In Fallout 4 his affinity reactions are somewhat outside the norm of the other companions. He loves when you modify weapons or armor and likes when you use power armor. Likes hacking. Likes combat. Has no reaction to stealing, pickpocketing, lockpicking, or murder. Doesn't mind you using alcohol or chems, but dislikes when you get addicted. HATES cannibalism. He also likes when you use or give him explosives/heavy weapons, like the Fat Man or Gatling Laser.

He likes if you join the Institute, because they're advanced enough to possibly help him. He dislikes if you destroy them, because that's a lot of useful science lost. He likes if you join the Brotherhood of Steel, but funnily enough also likes if you destroy or attack them. He has no opinions on the other factions aside from the raiders, whom he doesn't like when you help. Those are the sadists we don't get in trouble for killing, c'mon. He loves doing the USS Constitution quest because he thinks it's absurd and you get a cannon.

Given how durable his armor is, he's essentially impossible to knock down through normal combat. Having him around trivializes combat since he's a tank that enemies may prioritize over the player. In order to get him as a companion in the first place, there's a long-ish quest where you help him take over and repair a satellite array over several visits in order to lure in some aliens to fight. Once you've proven yourself competent in this regard, he'll tag along and help you in return.

[xthelastknownsurvivorx]

Not-WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tags @14carrotghoul and @adreamareads!

I'm following several other writers in sharing a snippet from a fic I just posted yesterday in lieu of something new since this has been what I've mostly been working on in between being sick and busy

So have more Alex and Liam from my Liam-centric fic that was written for the rwrb eras tour event, now titled doesn't he know (i've had him memorized for so long)

"So what, back to mid-term prep after a wild night?" Liam asks, probing for Alex's reaction. "All in a day's work for would-be valedictorian, or something like that." Alex rolls his eyes. "I wouldn't call it a 'wild night'. We got drunk alone in my room, not at some bar we snuck into." Liam blinks, still surprised in spite of himself. "Um, yeah," he manages, feeling off-kilter. "I guess it doesn't really qualify." So that answers that question, even if he did suspect as much. Well, it's probably for the best anyway. The whole reason Liam has never said anything or tried kissing him is because he's afraid of the consequences. This way, as long as Alex never remembers, nothing has to change. (Liam might still have to down the rest of the bottle of Maker's about it, though.) Alex nods. "Yeah, man, just a regular Saturday night. You and me, shooting the shit. Bitching about school, worrying about college..." he trails off, then adds, "maybe a little making out." "Uh," says Liam intelligently, because really, what else is he supposed to say to that? Their Saturday nights don't usually involve any mouth to mouth contact, regardless of Liam's fantasies, and he doesn't think doing something like kissing for an hour counts as "a little" of anything. But if Alex sees this as normal, there's no way Liam can be the one to make it awkward and ruin their friendship. He can't get through the rest of senior year without Alex, especially since most of the guys on the lacrosse team are closer to Alex than him. So eventually Liam forces out, "Just, uh, kissing the homies, right?" "Exactly," says Alex a little too quickly, relief flashing over his face before it's gone. "Doesn't mean anything, we're just confident in our sexualities. Not that being gay is a problem, of course. I'm just straight." "Right" Liam echoes, hollow. "Right."

Tagging @inexplicablymine @bidoofenergy @read-and-write- @gayrootvegetable and anyone else who wants to take the open tag