#reminisce marionette

[monsterhighnewsuk]

mattel what are you thinking. mattelllllll.....what're you thinking mattellllllll

[prettycalla]

|| multam noctem ||

Pairing: Caracalla/Reader

Summary: Your husband demands affection from you. You are more than happy to oblige him. (Request prompt)

Word Count: 781

Tags and warnings: Fluff, very brief alcohol mention, Caracalla is a little drunk, no use of Y/N.

Masterlist

It is a rare sight to find Caracalla in bed before you. Most nights are an adventure of trying to find out where he has wandered off to this time, like a convoluted game of hide-and-seek. You have been together long enough now to know his favourite places, and he is easily coaxed back to your chambers with the promise of your embrace - amongst other things at times.

So when you find him sprawled out under the covers and just about undressed for bed as you return from your evening bath, you cannot hide your surprise.

“Wife,” he sing-songs at you with a giggle. “I have saved you the trouble of retrieving me tonight. Are you not pleased?”

His speech is a little slurred, his cheeks rosy with warmth. Your smile is fond as you turn to him.

“Of course,” you say knowingly. “Now I see.”

“See what?” he asks, his brow furrowing in the most adorable manner as he tries to concentrate on your words.

“You, my dear husband, have overindulged,” you reply, pretending to scold him. “You did not save me the effort of looking for you, did you? In fact, I would wager that you were carried here by your guards.”

Caracalla will not meet your eyes, so reminiscent of a dog that has been caught with something in its mouth that a laugh escapes you.

"Well?" you ask, persistent. "Am I right?"

Caracalla grumbles something under his breath. That is answer enough for you.

You climb under the covers to join him. Immediately he is on you, his arms around your waist as he presses his head to your chest.

“You are not to be angry with me,” he tells you, his voice muffled as his cheek is squashed against you.

You do not bother to mention that you were never angry with him to begin with.

“Is that an order, my Emperor?” you ask teasingly.

He huffs. “Yes. You will do as your Emperor commands.”

You tap a finger to your cheek and let out a long, dramatic sigh, as if in contemplation. He looks up at you, eyes unfocused and lower lip pushed out. He is pouting.

The great Emperor of Rome, one of the most feared men in the entire Empire, is pouting.

You place a finger to his lip in an attempt to push it back into place. He relents under your touch, but not before pressing a kiss to your fingertip first. You wrap your arms around him, kissing the top of his head.

"Did you enjoy yourself this evening?" you ask.

Caracalla immediately shakes his head, sending his wild hair into further disarray.

"You left," he replies. "How am I to have fun when you are not by my side?"

You raise your eyebrows at him. It is true that you left the banquet early with the complaint of a headache, but Caracalla has always been quick to find an excuse for his behaviour wherever he can.

"So this indulgence of yours is my fault, is it?" you query, sceptical.

He nods. So animated he is in his movements, like a marionette.

"Yes!" he exclaims. "Yes, exactly. It is your fault. And when I have a headache and fever tomorrow, you will have to tend to me."

He tries to straighten up in an attempt to look intimidating, though still wrapped in your arms. You struggle to fight back your laughter.

"That will be your punishment for leaving me," he states in what you suppose he thinks is a commanding tone.

You tilt your head with a soft smile.

"How could taking care of my dear husband ever possibly be a punishment?" you ask, brushing his soft curls from his forehead.

Caracalla stares at you then, lips parted. You can see the little blush dusting across his face at your words.

"Must you always have an answer for everything?" he asks petulantly, but it is hard to miss the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Yes, carissime," you reply affectionately. "But would you have me any other way?

He opens his mouth as if to argue further, but instead shakes his head.

"It is a losing battle," he mumbles, burrowing closer to you. "And I grow tired."

He lets out a loud yawn then, pulling you closer as his eyes slip closed.

"Rest now," you tell him in a hushed voice. "You are safe here."

Caracalla says no more as he drifts off, his hold on you gradually slackening. You watch him for a while, your heart full of love for the man in your arms, before you too are placed under the spell of Somnus until morning.

(banners by @ cafekitsune)

[catfern]

feed.

in support of palestine ∙ the reality of tlou ∙ resources

pairing: vampire!ellie williams x reader

music: angel - massive attack

word count: 630

summary: freshly turned, ellie has a hunger insatiable. you would bleed for her, but that's not all she wants.

warnings: pussy eating turned feeding, mentions and descriptions of blood, cannibalism (kinda), alludes to character death.

cat says ⎯ a quick little drabble to celebrate the start of autumn (fall, if you're a weirdo). also letting u guys know i'm alive barely! keep an eye on me, something fun coming soon!

sweet.

something sickly artificial, absent life beneath her tongue. a languid pulse, tired obligation.

pulling back, a gnawing feeling sits on ellie’s skin as she contemplates; the delicacy of a moment, so violently ruined by the willingness of her own temptation. the fever of something passed, as she watches the arc of your breathing on stained sheets.

you had agreed, so blindly loving, to the baring of her teeth. what a poorly hidden creature you had opened your arms to. come here, take my warmth, i shall feed you.

so very selfish, to long for more, to take. her tongue, taught to pull at the slick between your legs, thrumming a mean word, a trail down the pillow of your thigh. a soft whine dripped from the swell of your lips at the first feeling of her canines, press, press. a strained cry, the wound of an animal. ellie wonders if perhaps, you would curl away. an itch inside her told her not to let you.

glaring red, a sign to stop. a syrupy taste that bellowed the taunt of an addiction, something so, so easy to fall into. she watched the ichor pinken, mixed with the cotton shine painting the inside of your thighs.

“fuck…” a low, inserted rumble from the cavity of her chest. a call, answered. made for her own greed, your body now merely a vessel for this — awakened craving. she longs to feel the rip beneath this wicked invasion of ivory, the tears of your flesh, bitter on her tongue. if she pulled harshly enough, she thinks, she could even hear your body scream apart beneath her. 

wants and needs cloud the dimly shining lust in her, a newfound hunger choking that light. 

bleed.

shaky breaths crown on your ribcage, wordless mumbles dying in your throat. ellie would, maybe, laugh, something teasing, if not so consumed. a soft rhythm beneath her fingertips, buzzing in her skin, your own bastion of moribund life. she can feel you, feel your response to this … violation. and you want this? in some perversion of ellie’s own mind, you do. you want to feel the bite, teeth sinking into the hand with which you fed her.

you seize so unnaturally, beneath your lover’s teeth. pulled on strings, following a wicked path of pain, a stained rut of your hips, a whine amidst the blood.

ellie watches, impatiently, her own breath heavy and rotten through her nose. strings of red, falling across the plains of your stomach, the crooks of your neck, discovering as if not already a part of you, exotic on your own body. her mark is left here, deep in sconces of your flesh, pulling you on marionette wires with every scattered indulgence.

her tongue is a burning heat, tracing brutish, possessive trails in the fading delirium. her fingers press harsh fingerprints, inked in apple-ish reminiscence, across the curve of your breast, and your breath hitches.

“i can’t—“ she’s too close, too, too close. her breath melting against your skin. you can see her, blurred and wild, face flushed against the stretch of your legs. the eyes of a dog, wide and unforgiving and helpless, buried in the fading warmth of your body. you watch as one would something untamed, cornered. 

“you’re too good to me.”

ringing truth in your ears, a pained reminder as you lie, so eager to please, no matter the tax, in this hazy room of mortal lust and tenderhearted violence. 

ellie sits, she waits, for what she does not know. metal in the crooks of her teeth, a maple taste deep in her throat. to love is to consume, to swallow whole, to nourish. love shared is love lost, life lost.

ellie waits, shedding animal in dying skin, to rot in your memory.

⎯ kofi

[cherrychaiparadise]

the cold water of my heart (christ, it's boiling over)

Maybe you should’ve just left it at that, let the moment pass. But some part of you knew that it wouldn’t, that even if you had, another would rise in its place. The swirling water acting like a shield from the outside world, stranding you and this handsome man in some place out of time. Outside of reality, where normal didn’t apply. So, you let yourself loosen, let yourself voice the desire you’d been burying deep within your chest for the past hour or so, maybe longer.

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader (no physical description, except for hair below the shoulders and is wearing a bikini) summary: you and frankie get it on in the hot tub rating: 18+, minors dni tags: ski resort au, hot tub sex, soft dom frankie, exhibitionism, praise kink, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple play, dirty talk, begging, frankie morales has a filthy mouth, frankie is tired, mentions of the tf boys word count: 7k

crossposted on ao3!

divider by @firefly-graphics

He leaned back, letting the gentle rumble of the water beat into his sore shoulders. The years of service had finally begun to take their toll on his body. Muscles tense and weary, joints cracking against each other, tendons pulled tight, strung together like a misshapen marionette. 

Shouldn’t have let the guys fuckin’ drag him into this, Frankie thought. Sinking further below the surface of the bubbling water, letting a jet pound into a particularly stubborn knot that had tied itself together in his upper back, just between his shoulder blades. But they’d insisted, Benny going as far to joke that this was the “Better, more legal, snow.” That’d earned him a hard elbow to the rib cage from Ironhead, no matter that the younger Miller was the fighter.

They’d been supportive, though. All of the guys agreed that it would be a much needed trip. Reminiscent of their youths, Will and Ben especially, who’d grown up in Colorado and had been sweltering in the Florida heat for years. Frankie had reluctantly come along, never having experienced much of the cold, but never one to sit on the sidelines while the rest of the crew did some stupid shit like blowing their hard earned money on a ski resort.

And Frankie thought that Pope was just looking forward to teaching clueless women to snowboard. Using the excuse to put his hands on their waists, whisper words of encouragement softly in their ears. Cheeky fucker was right, too. Frankie’d seen him with at least three different women today alone. Meanwhile the only woman Frankie had in mind was the masseuse at the resort spa, maybe he’d book an appointment tomorrow. Despite the hot jets and warm lights, the jacuzzi wasn’t enough. 

It was late, and his fingers had long since wrinkled into that weird, spongy texture. He considered getting out, heading to the queen sized bed that awaited him in his shared room with Santiago. Shared. Frankie grimaced, remembering the last woman Pope had been working up. Her too loud laughs at his dumbass lines, the way she’d shrugged off her puffer jacket, even though it was well below forty that afternoon. Maybe he’d wait out here a bit longer, maybe he still had more muscles that would loosen. 

The area was mostly empty, too cold for the majority of vacationers, despite the nearly scalding temperature of the hot tub. Sequestered into a hidden pocket behind the hotel section of the resort, tucked away in a small trail off the pool, which was also silent. Puddles sitting silently on the gray stones neatly worked around the circular tub, a mixture of condensation and melted snow. White, hardened snow more condensely packed along the iron railings surrounding the patio, fairy lights weaved beneath old snow. Creating an ethereal glow through the millions of frozen crystals, almost setting them aflame.

Music and laughter drifted faintly from the main lodge, where the resort was hosting its first Christmas party of the season. Where his friends were likely warm with wine or wandering hands along a woman’s arm. Likely both, for Santiago. Frankie chuckled to himself, glad to be alone. He loved the guys, loved that they were having fun, but he was just… fucking tired. 

The oldest member of the team, long since out of active combat unlike Pope. Or Benny, who was still young and quick on his feet, fucking fighting for sport. Even Will, who spoke for a living, had remained running endless drills or sparring with his brother. Leaving Frankie stiff and aching, his stomach softening into a plush curve. Not that he minded, he could care less about his physical appearance, really. He was just sick of being a step behind, sleep catching up to him an hour or so earlier. Feeling like he had to work twice as hard just to keep up.

A shrill, groaning creak broke him from his melancholy thoughts. Opening his eyes, Frankie straightened, lifting his sagged body out from under the water. His breath hitched at the cold air on his shoulders, the gust of icy wind brushing through his damp hair. He felt his eyes adjust, tracking the distant figure approach through the key-coded gate. Huddled together in a pale blue towel, shoes slapping against the wet floor. The warm lamplight curling around the soft silhouette to reveal a woman, her hair falling freely and limbs shivering profusely as she shuffled towards the steamy glow of the hot tub.

Frankie tried to keep his eyes down as she settled her things into the wooden chair, notably right next to his. Tried to focus on the colorful bubbles, the foam bubbling along the water’s surface, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, being alone in a hot tub with a stranger this late into the night. Part of him was surprised she was still getting in, to be honest.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked. Striking him with the soft timbre of her voice, slightly rough, as if she’d been out in the cold for too long.

He lifted his head to respond, voice nearly catching in his throat as he drank in the sight of her. Midnight blue bikini clinging to her curves. The bottoms cut high along her hips, revealing the slope of her ass. Top drooping low, arching along with the swell of her breasts. He had to avert his eyes at the outline of her nipples, clearly hardened in the cold winter air, poking through the thin fabric of her swimsuit. Fuck, and he’d been trying so hard to make her feel safe, and here he was fucking ogling her at his first glimpse. 

“Yeah, no problem.” He said, tongue heavy in his mouth. Hoping he hadn’t taken as long to respond as it’d felt. But he must’ve done something right, because she smiled brightly, a puff of her warm breath drifting past her lips as she thanked him. Floating up to mix with the steam rolling off of the hot water. 

The water rippled against his bare chest as she stepped in, her hand barely brushing against the metal railing, leaving fingerprints in the visible condensation. He tried his hardest to find the tile floor of the jacuzzi through the thick bubbles when she hummed at the warmth of the sauna as she lowered herself beneath the frother surface. 

Only then did Frankie feel safe enough to look up from the imaginary point on the floor, now that her too-soft looking body was hidden beneath the white fluff of the bubbles. Her eyes had fallen shut, lashes whispering against her cheeks. Lips slightly chapped from the harsh mountain winds, moisture already creeping its way along the smooth slope of her shoulders. Droplets of water spattered across her collarbone, carving a path down towards the crevice between her breasts. Head leaned back against the curved edge of the pool, smaller particles of water clinging to her hair.

Shit, he thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d seen. Like a siren washed up from the sea, enchanting unsuspecting men with her otherworldly allure, only to drag them back with her to the watery depths.

Maybe he should’ve gotten out earlier after all, escaped his fate, because he was completely and utterly fucked. 

~

The water felt heavenly wrapped around your nearly freeze-dried skin, you had to fight back a moan. The December sky was painted above you, bright splatters of white and yellow and blue painted across a black canvas, the moon hung full overhead. The slowly changing hues of the bubbles mirroring the heavens above. It was stunning, the space around you.

Not to mention, the man in front of you.

Broad chest dappled with a light sweeping of freckles. Brown hair mussed and curling upwards from the moisture in the air. Strong, curved nose and almost sorrowful brown eyes. He was beautiful, you thought, nearly rivaling the sky above and waters below. Suddenly aware of the lack of space between the two of you, no more than four or five feet apart. 

You glanced up at him, surprised to find him already looking at you. A soft shade of pink spread across his cheeks, already flushed from the heat. You pursed your lips, fighting back a grin at his response to being caught. “Avoiding the rest of the world too?” you asked, trying to build a bridge across the small space that separated you. 

The man’s eyes widened for a moment, before meeting your own as he spoke, and again you were struck by the roughened edge to his voice. A stark contrast to his otherwise soft demeanor. “Something like that,” the edge of his lip tugged upwards as he tilted his head to the side. “Mostly just my roommate… ‘ve got a feeling he’s got another, prettier roommate in mind, if you know what I mean.”

You bit your lip, feeling your smile spread across your cheeks at his joking answer. “I’m sure he appreciates it.”

He snorted, an abrupt, unexpected noise which he quickly reigned back in, as if its escape had been just as much of a surprise to him. “Nah,” he shook his head, curls bouncing with the movement, lip still curled up into a small smirk. “Doubt that fucker even notices I’m gone.” His words were harsh, but his features held nothing but fondness.

Smile still comfortably spread across your lips, you slightly shifted forward and gave the man your name. Who knows, you were at the same resort, maybe you’d run into him again. 

He swallowed, as if taking in the consonants and vowels, the way the sound of your name curved in the air, before returning it with his own. “Frankie,” he leaned forward, arm outstretched towards you. His hand was warm against your skin, grip firm as he politely shook your own. You couldn’t help but notice how much bigger his hand was, the way his fingers stretched all the way around the outside of your hand, nearly connecting with his thumb. Leaving your skin feeling cold as he pulled away. “You here alone? Or…”

You quirked a brow. Forward, wasn’t he.

“Shit,” he choked, face immediately flushing with color once again. Water splashing against his chest as his arm jerked out in panic. “That’s- that came out differently than I’d mean it to,” he laughed quietly, running a hand through his hair, damp curls pulling back before quickly coiling back into place. You smiled, finding his flustered state endearing. “I just meant if you were here with friends, too. I kinda was brought as a hostage by my buds…” he trailed off again, clearly struggling to properly formulate his thoughts. 

“Nah, not friends,” you met his eyes, trying to convey your reassurance. “I’m here with my family. Never too old to grow out of annual family vacations, apparently.” 

“Ah,” he nodded. “That’s sweet. That your family does that.” He’s right, it was. You almost asked about his family, but caught yourself, worrying that would be too invasive. “My mom’d take me to her parents for the holidays every year. Don’t know how she did it, ‘know I must’ve been a little shit in a car for seven hours.” He chuckled to himself, eyes softly glazing over as he relived the memory. 

You didn’t know how much time passed after that. Alternating between amicable banter and comfortable silence. The two of you sharing stories and watching the lights change color. Humming along to familiar holiday tunes drifting from the lodge and listening as the occasional owl hooted from the snow-covered pines overhead. Laughter echoing between you, bouncing off the water, fizzling into the air along with the pop of the bubbles. You’re not sure how, or when it had happened, but somehow the two of you had drawn together, closing the small distance once between you. 

Steam curled around you, hazy ribbons floating in the air, and you briefly wondered if they were what drew you together. Wrapped themselves around your relaxed forms, around your wrists and ankles and tugged and pulled until the two of you sat side by side, bare feet occasionally bumping into each other with the gentle push and pull of the jets. 

Feeling the delicate skin of his ankle graze against your toes, droplets of water splashing into your lap as he gesticulated while speaking. Finding yourself enraptured in his movements, the plush curve of his lips when he spoke, the way his biceps pulled taught and chest flushed when he laughed. 

How his brown eyes fell to your lips when you smiled. Dropped even lower when you’d lean forward or turn a certain way. He seemed to track your motions the same way, going as far to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Stealing your breath as warm fingertips brushed featherlight against the wet skin of your cheekbone. Lingering as he pulled back, fingers softly curling along the counters of your face. His thumb barely kissing the edge of your lips as he finally let his hand fall back to his side.

Maybe you should’ve just left it at that, let the moment pass. But some part of you knew that it wouldn’t, that even if you had, another would rise in its place. The swirling water acting like a shield from the outside world, stranding you and this handsome man in some place out of time. Outside of reality, where normal didn’t apply. So, you let yourself loosen, let yourself voice the desire you’d been burying deep within your chest for the past hour or so, maybe longer.

“Warm,” you murmured, eyes fluttering shut at the loss of his heated skin. 

“Hm?” his brows furrowed slightly, even though you knew he understood the meaning behind your statement. Just as affected by the headiness of the thick steam and lulling rhythm of the bubbles and the closeness held between your bodies. You opened your eyes to find his head tilted, and under any other circumstances, you would’ve taken it as confusion. But not here, not now. Not with him. His eyes unabashedly on your lips, wet and glistening and waiting.

You leaned closer, the tip of his aquiline nose just brushing against yours. “Frankie,” you breathed against his mouth. Your eyes flittering up to his, finding them dark and hooded and wanting. Nearly begging, begging you to let him, to confirm that you wanted this, too. Normally one to wait, to follow the lead, you hesitated for a fraction of a second before pushing the past aside. You didn’t want to wait, you already knew the answer. He was asking for both of you with those big brown eyes, shining in a way that looked like he was in physical pain from waiting himself. 

“Please.” It was more of a warning than a request, giving him a moment to deny you, to tell you you’d been misinterpreting this entire situation. He responded with a soft exhale and a sharp raise of his brows. As if he was begging you as much as you were him. Letting yourself give in, give the both of you what you desired, you took in a breath of the warm winter air and pressed your lips to Frankie’s.

~

Frankie’s mind seemed to spark and fizzle like a faulty wire before finally clicking back into place. Commanding his heavy arms to rise, wrapping around the silky skin of your waist, tugging you flush against him. He smiled internally at the quiet gasp he’d drawn from your lips, fresh confidence driving him to deepen the kiss. Running his tongue along the outer edge of your lips, faintly tasting sweet chocolate and the tang of the chlorine. His hand lifted up to cup the back of your head. Fingers tangling with the damp hair at the base of your neck. Shifting positions so that his touch traced along the curve of your spine, causing you to shiver beneath his touch.

Only seconds had passed, yet he found that you were an instrument he wanted to play till the sun’s golden rays overflowed from the mountaintops. To master the pull of your strings and dips of your intricate curves. Draw sweet melodies from you all night until his hands could no longer work. Until your body had completely melted into the silky water of the jacuzzi and the firm pressure of his touch. 

He bit back a groan as you pulled back, leaving wet handprints on his chest that quickly evaporated into the humid air. Already, your lips were swollen, hair clearly messed where his hand had been tangled with your locks. Your chest heaved as you inhaled, his eyes brazenly dropping to your tits. Nipples hardened in the winter breeze, practically begging to be pulled between his fingers and twisted till he draws sweet cries from your lips. Eyes brightly reflecting the warm glow of the lights, darkened with a shadow of something else. Like a siren, he thought once more. Yet he found himself more than willing to fall, to dive headfirst if it meant more of this. More of you.

Your lips parted as if you were going to say something, but no noise came out. Instead you leaned back into him, threading your small fingers into his hair. A rough noise escaping him as you tugged, pulling him back into your wanting mouth. Your tongue dipping past his lips. Again that warm sweetness and cinnamon filled his senses as he let you take your fill. Loving the heady blend of sensations. Little blossoms of pain at his scalp laved over by the wet caress of your mouth on his and the satiny strokes of the hot water. 

He would happily let himself drown in your mouth, he knew. But he wanted to taste more.

Tilting your neck back, Frankie ruefully separated his lips from yours, noting the needy whine linger in the back of your throat. “Shhh, sweetheart, trust me,” he watched you give him a rushed nod, taking the opportunity to bring his mouth to the smooth column of your neck. Shining with the glimmering sheen of water, he began licking up the droplets. Tasting the blend of tangy chlorine and the warm musk of your skin. Feeling your pulse fluttering beneath his tongue, Frankie closed his mouth around the cord of muscle and sucked into your skin. 

Your moan rumbled up in your throat, reverberating into his wanting mouth. Fuck, he wanted to draw more and more of those pretty noises from you long into the night. With his mouth, hands, cock, whatever. Anything to keep that sweet song pouring from your lips.

The water swished around him as he repositioned himself, pulling away for a moment so that he was standing between your spread legs. Your knees hugging his outer thighs as he curled over you, moving his mouth back to your skin. Letting his lips wander down your neck, no more than a whisper along the sparse hairs that coated your skin. Bringing his lips to the spot where your neck connected with the tip of your collarbone. Getting a feel for the soft, squishy skin there before using his teeth, gently biting into your inviting flesh. 

As another quiet moan fell from your lips, Frankie used the moment to bring a hand to the soft roundness of your breast, finally getting his fill. Shamelessly stroking you in the place he’d been denying himself all night. Head spinning as the weight settled in his palm, warm and smooth and not quite enough through the fabric of your swimsuit.

A whimper tumbled out of you as he grazed a thumb over the peaked bud of your nipple. And fuck him if that didn’t send another jolt of heat straight to his already full cock. Drawing his thumb back, Frankie slowly traced a circle along the outer edge of your areola, not quite where you needed him. Eyes drinking in the deep rise and fall of your chest, the water swaying in rhythm with you. Bringing his thumb closer, just to the base of the hardened skin, before retreating and continuing to rub teasing circles “Frankie, please,” you breathed, voice choked and airy.

“Please what? This not enough for you?” He hummed, a slight pout drawn into the melody. 

Your pretty face scrunched up at his mocking tone, and Frankie almost felt bad. Almost. But he wanted to hear more of your pretty noises, hear you ask nicely for what you wanted. “Touch me, ‘s not enough.” 

His mouth curled into a sinful smirk, something inside of him drawing tight upon realizing how easy it was to get you to beg. Part of him wanted to wait, to deny you just to see how far you’d go to get what you wanted. Later, he decided. There was plenty more to make you beg for. 

Finally letting his fingers return to your aching nipple, he brushed a finger back across the peak, giving your tit a sharp squeeze before pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Needing to be a bit rougher than normal to keep it from slipping away beneath the fabric barrier. The whimper formed, stronger, in your throat and he knew he couldn’t stop. Twisting you between his fingers, almost enough to hurt, but not quite yet. Your hips bucked below the surface, back arching against the tiled wall, bubbles crackling just below your ribcage. “Not-” you whined, brows pinching together, clearly frustrated. “Still not enough, not-,”

You writhed beneath him, body tightly coiled as he continued to work your nipple, having brought the other hand to cup your other breast, wanting to give it a similar attention. Watching the way you’d brought your hands to the sides of your swimsuit, seemingly unconsciously pulling at the skintight fabric, nails digging into the synthetic material as you dragged your hands down your torso. 

Gripping the bare skin at your waist, he pushed your body back against the wall of the hot tub, your body nearly weightless in the water, he lifted you slightly to get a better angle before pressing his mouth to your tits, replacing his finger that had been tightly twisting and twirling. Laving his tongue over the chlorine-soaked fabric, feeling the hardness of your nipple beneath. Using a flash of teeth to nip at you through your swimsuit. 

Still, you tugged at your bikini straps, not quite pulling them down but playing with them, drawing his darkened eyes to the thin fabric at your shoulders. He pulled back, watching your breasts sway with your heavy breaths, one of the straps falling from your shoulder, exposing a faint glimpse of the rounded flesh at the side of your breast. Thoughtlessly raising a hand to trace along the bare curve, entranced at the give of skin beneath his calloused fingers. “Something you need, beautiful?” His gaze didn’t leave the patch of your partially exposed tits, begging to be freed.

Your eyes were wild as they met his. Dark with need and alight with some proprietary sense of hesitation, of knowing that you were still in a public area. That anyone could come through the iron gates, could see you like this. Flushed and needy and heaving with desire. “I-, I just want more.” Your voice was tight, like he could break you with no more than a touch. 

Fuck him. He shuffled forward, letting his aching cock press against your core, only separated by the thin layers of fabric. Clenching his eyes tight at the sudden contact, the way it burned a trail up his spine. Grunting when he saw the same expression mirrored across your own features.

“I need you to tell me, sweetheart,” He leaned down, placing a chaste kiss to your uncovered chest, the fabric peeling down to reveal a peek of the silky skin where the colors shifted. Giving way from tougher skin to the sensitive softness of your nipple. “You want this off? Hmm? Want me to give your pretty tits the attention they deserve? Bet they’re fucking beautiful,” he murmured into the curve of your skin, fingers dancing up your ribcage to land below the swell of your chest. Holding you there as he leaned back, meeting your eyes. Waiting for your permission. 

He wanted this. Wanted it here, now, didn’t give a fuck who saw. But he needed you to want it too. “Need to hear you say it, please.” He lifted his head, pressing a warm kiss to your lips, holding you like a treasure he desperately desired to keep close. 

You opened your mouth soundlessly, and for a second he was sure you were going to say no. Push him away and tell him to fuck off, that he was a pervert and a creep and everything that wasn’t enough for. But instead, you tugged down the remaining strap, the fine strands of fabric dangling from your shoulders. Remaining material above your chest already drooping low without the support of the straps. 

Instinct drew him forward, but his mind kept his hands in place. “Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me this is ok.” 

Your eyes were nearly black with lust as you spoke, voice firm. “It’s ok, Frankie. Don’t stop.”

~

He moved like a predator, was your first and only thought, before the straining cups of your bikini top were torn down, breasts spilling out over the wet fabric into the night air. You’d expected the shock of the cold to pierce you, but were instead caught in the heat of Frankie’s gaze on your bare tits, his hands returning to them, almost reverently now that you’d fully revealed your upper half. 

“I was right,” he whispered, more to your chest than you, you realized with a sprinkle of amusement. Pupils blown wide as he soaked in your appearance, feeling his hand clench at your side before returning to your exposed chest. “Fucking perfect,” he pinched the hardened bud between deft fingers, and you gasped at the feeling of his skin on yours. Just enough pressure as you silently begged him still for more. Needing his mouth back on your skin. 

Accepting your unspoken plea, Frankie closed his mouth around your tight nipple, and you let out a frighteningly loud cry as the wet heat enveloped you. “Fuck, Frankie…” you whined as he give it a suck before laving over the peak with his tongue. Swirling it in his mouth, bringing it between his teeth with a slight pinch and a gentle tug. Eyes flitting up to yours to gauge your reaction. Knowing your face was nothing more than a canvas for the pleasure he painted across you in long, flowing strokes. All the while continuing to work your other breast with his large hand, keeping you suspended between two constant pools of bliss.

Your body wound tight, warm energy swirling beneath your skin. Buzzing across your nerves, so hot it fucking hurt. The backs of your arms ached, the cool concrete digging into your skin, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when Frankie had you arching into him, hips beginning to grind against his. Feeling him hot and hard and digging into the swell of your inner thigh, so close to where you needed him but nowhere close enough. Constantly assaulted by his tongue and hand relentlessly working your sore tits, bordering on the edge of pain and something else. 

Briefly you wondered if you could come just from this. If you dropped a hand between your legs, pressed down on your swollen clit that had been throbbing for what felt like hours. If that would be enough. If that would send you over the edge, send you reeling into the ecstasy your body was chasing. “Frankie, shit, I-” it took you a second to collect your words, scattered along with the nerves that lit up your body. 

He switched tits while he waited for you to continue, big brown eyes looking up at you patiently, mouth latching onto your other nipple while he lifted his hand to your spit-slathered breast. Nipple glinting in the warm light, slick and shiny with his saliva.

“Need you to touch me- your thigh.” Your eyes locked onto the thick muscle of his leg, watching the tendons clench as he shifted his weight, immediately catching onto your meaning. 

Pulling back from your chest with a wet, lewd pop, he braced his arm on the stone beside you, the cords of his bicep flexing with the movement, close enough that you could see the droplets of water beading on his tanned skin. “You’re learning,” he smiled, tilting your chin up with the bottom of his finger. “Asking for what you want like a good girl.” 

You nodded eagerly, mind overcome with a deep-set hunger, greedy for the pleasure you knew he could give you. Tongue heavy in your mouth, feeling like you were capable of doing nothing more than sinking deeper into the water, letting its hypnotic pull overcome you while Frankie played with your body like he’d studied it for years.

“You think you could come like this?” he pinched your nipple harder than before, enough for you to cry out in pain, though it quickly melted into simmering pleasure which Frankie immediately caught on to. “Bet you could, bet you want to.” He dropped his mouth to your ear, voice lowering an octave. His words were hot on your skin as he spoke. “Let me give you what you need, please.”

His eyes met yours once again, warm and rich and filled with desire. You’d never felt like this before. So wanted. Like Frankie had made it his mission to give you as much as he could. Not just for you, but for him. Because he enjoyed it, enjoyed bringing you to the edge of pleasure and holding you there, leaving you teetering near the precipice before letting you fall deep, deep into the waves of ecstasy. 

“Please,” you repeated back to him, the hiss of your plea being the last thing you heard before he jerked your nipple with a harsh twist and slotted his knee between your waiting thighs. The pressure kissing firmly against your swollen clit and breaking the dam inside of you. Cunt clenching around nothing, spasming as you can feel yourself gush into the billowing water. 

Churning waves roaring in your ears as your body tensed and released, shaking with the effort, feeling as if all the building pleasure was pouring out of you, leaving you helpless to stop it. Feeling your vision go fuzzy, like you’d sunk below the surface and everything was glazed over with flashes of light and sprays of water. 

You heard Frankie murmur your name against your ear, his hand now gently caressing the flushed skin of your cheek. Hard concrete pressing against the back of your head, you lifted yourself up, slowly opened your eyes to find his own looking back at you. Dark and heavy and wanting. Yet he maintained the gentle brush of his thumb against your skin, slowly drawing you back to the present, even though you knew his mind was just as lost as yours. 

“Shit, Frankie,” you smiled up at him, feeling a little silly. “That was- fuck,” you laughed and he pressed a kiss to your lips. Initially soft and quieting, it quickly changed, his own desire fueling him on. You could feel the energy building beneath his skin, his hands dropping lower to the cute little bows that held the strings of your bikini bottoms together. Fisting with the plump curve of your ass, thumb slipping beneath the drawstring, but leaving your remaining clothing in place. Ever the gentleman.

The gentleman who then continued to spin you around, lifting you as he settled into the bench seat, back leaning against the wall, before settling you into his lap. His cock jutting up against your soaked pussy, putting pressure back on your swollen clit and fuck, even with your previous orgasm it still wasn’t enough. Circling your hips, you put a hand on his chest, savoring the feel of his bare skin warm beneath your fingertips. “Frankie,” you ground into him, realizing how fucking empty you felt. “Need you, want you inside me.”

His grip on your hips tightened, hard enough that you knew there’d be finger-sized bruises tattooed into your skin tomorrow. “Fuck, sweetheart, can I?”

You knew that this was risky, fucking crazy, actually. Fucking a man you’d just met in open air, where anyone could still walk in and see,  at a resort your fucking family was attending. But you didn’t care, couldn’t even bother to worry. All you could focus on was the burning between your legs, the way your body was screaming at you to be filled. And with the way Frankie was straining beneath you, you knew you’d have to stretch to take him. But god, you could already imagine how it’d feel to be full of his cock, have him deep inside you, murmuring filthy things in your ears while he’d gently rut up into you. And yeah, you didn’t give a shit.

“I’m on the pill, and clean.”

Frankie nodded. “Me too. You sure?”

So fucking sweet, this man. “Please, Frankie. I want you to fuck me.”

~

Frankie had to bite his tongue to stop himself from cumming right then and there. The determination in your eyes, the deadset desperation for him. He couldn’t wait any longer, needed to be inside you. “Fuck, yeah, ok,” he babbled, fumbling for a moment to pull the drawstrings, moaning when he felt the fabric come free and float away, leaving you bare in his lap and all for him.  

“Shit, baby- fuck,” Words temporarily evaded him as he soaked in your appearance. Naked and glimmering with beads of clear water reflecting the light off your skin. Leaving you glowing like a fucking angel and fuck, everything he wanted to do was far from holy, but at the same time he wanted to worship you until the sun rose and set and the silvery moonlight coated the snow once again. 

It took him a moment to collect himself, feeling you hot and waiting above his painfully hard cock. The little swirls and arches of your hips causing him to meet your thrusts, jutting up into you even within the confines of his swim shorts. “Hang on a sec, just-” he trailed off, burying his head in your shoulder, your wet hair tickling his nose. Clenching his hands around the delicious swell of your ass, willing himself to focus, needing to last longer than a fucking teenager.

Finally having collected himself, Frankie pulled back, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Only to find you beaming down at him, extending a soft hand to run through his tousled curls and he could help but lean into your touch. Turning towards you to plant a soft kiss to your palm, trying to convey his gratefulness for your patience. Wanting nothing more than to make this good for you, loving the way you’d come apart under him before. Needing to break you apart on his cock.

Freeing his length from the shorts, Frankie took a moment to drag his head along your folds, easily parting for him with the slick that had gathered there. “Fuck, sweetheart, so fucking wet for me,” he murmured as he continued teasing the outer edges of your pussy, collecting the wetness before it was washed away with the water. 

You moaned sweetly, breath warm against his neck where you’d settled yourself. Arms thrown tightly around his shoulders as he held you, one hand at your hip, one still firmly planted on your ass. 

“You sure this is ok? Out here where anyone can see?” He double-checked out of caution, and something else too. Some sick thrill shot down his spine at the thought of getting caught. Of being seen fucking into you, your tits bouncing as you cried out in pleasure. Letting everyone know how good he’d made you feel. 

You nodded against his skin, and he felt something build within him. Reaching between your legs, he slowly parted your folds, notching the tip into your tight, waiting pussy. Savoring the gasp that it tore from your parted lips, hot and moist on his neck. “You sure? Not scared, are ya?” He continued working himself inside of you, the added friction from the water halting his rhythm, but not his determination.

A whimper sounded against him, and he felt you clutching him tighter, nails digging into the smooth skin of his back. Taking the moment, he canted his hips, sheathing another several inches within you so that he was almost halfway in. And fuck, he needed to take another deep breath. The tight heat of your pussy gripping him was almost too much. Combined with the dull pain of your nails piercing his back, he had to be careful. Still, he continued.

“Not worried someone’ll see you like this? Getting fucked in a hot tub? Pretty tits out for anyone to see?” He gave your breast an emphatic squeeze, never tiring of the way the soft skin felt spilling between his fingers. Drawing another whine from your lips, face still buried into his skin. “Nah-ah, sweetheart, no need to be shy,” he gripped your jaw, gentle pressure but still enough to control your movements. 

Your eyes were glazed over, a trail of drool spilling from your mouth. Looking perfectly fucked-out for him, and he hadn’t even started. “There we go, baby, make sure they can see that pretty face too, see how much you’re enjoying this.” You moaned something that vaguely resembled his name, but he couldn’t be sure. 

“Let them, you know why?” He didn’t give you time to answer before thrusting the rest of his length into your cunt, feeling you grip him as the air fled from your lungs. Brows drawn tight as you accommodated to the stretch. “Because this pussy is just for me. Taking me so well, aren’t you?” You nodded, hips slowly shifting above him as you adjusted to the intrusion. Frankie was well aware of his size, and knew that it often took people a moment or two to get used to him.

“Yeah, there you go, knew you could do it,” he praised, placing a kiss to the soft spot of your neck, feeling your body loosen into him, your walls relaxing around him, giving him room to test out a slow thrust. “So good for me, baby.” 

Beginning with a slow pace, Frankie dragged his cock back, feeling your cunt grip him, like you were trying to keep him inside. Grip on your ass tightening, he leaned back in, slowly pushing his length back inside of you, the wet drag heavenly against his cock. Your hips tilted against his as you began meeting his thrusts. Riding him in rhythm as he fucked up into you.

The hot pull of your pussy combined with the pressure of the jets against his lower back was heavenly. Pressing at his muscles while you drained the pleasure from him, milking it from his body, which happily gave you his all. Loving the way your cunt fluttered around him, alternating between deep, stroking clenches and quick little pulses. So fucking responsive.

His eyes transfixed on the bounce of your tits, wanting to suck them back into his mouth, roll your nipples with his tongue more. Taste your skin in his mouth, the sweet combination of winter air and chlorine and the faint trace of your body’s natural musk. Sweeter than anything he’d tasted before. Mind wandering to how your pussy would taste, how you’d leak for him. Let him lap up your juices, fuck them back into you with his tongue until you were nothing but a writhing mess for him to savor.

“Shit,” Frankie felt his pace faltering, clearly spurred on by the thought of getting his mouth between your legs. Maybe later… “I’m sorry sweetheart, fuck- I’m close.” He tried to focus on something else, tried to slow down, anything to slow his quickly impending orgasm. But his body seemed to move on its own, hips hammering into your heat, your tight cunt sucking him in, wet and tight and perfect and fuck- it was too much.

“Want you inside- cum inside me, please, Frankie-” your voice broke off, and he’d been so busy trying to slow himself down he hadn’t even noticed the tears that had formed at the corners of your eyes. The way your breathing had picked up and head had thrown itself back, lips chapped from where you’d been digging your teeth into the plump flesh. Looking just as fucked as he felt.

And whether it was seeing you or hearing your words or the idea of tasting you ingrained into his mind or some combination of the three, Frankie felt that rope inside of him snap. Head falling forward as his hips jerked once, twice, and fuck, he was cumming. Heat flooding his stomach and shooting through his throbbing cock, feeling the warm spurts shudder through him as he poured himself into your soaked cunt.

Panting heavily into your sweat-slicked shoulder, Frankie planted a kiss against your wet skin, feeling your body stir against his. Just breathing you in, listening to the soft bubble of the jets, feeling your pulse flutter against him. 

Pulling out, he felt the rush of water around his spent cock. Reaching a hand between your thighs to find himself spilling out of you, cum already being washed away by the rushing water. 

He leaned back to find a lazy smile spread across your face, hair plastered to your forehead. Brushing it out of the way, he pressed a matching kiss just above your brow before pulling you into his chest. Loving the way you let it happen, your body melting into his. He let his cheek rest on the top of your head, your hair tickling his flushed skin.

And as he held you, he realized that the music from inside had finally died down. Leaving him alone with the rhythm of your breaths and the melody of the wind.

[brownblob]

Maybe

Rook Hunt x Fem! Reader

TW: Implied sexual themes, implied gore, blood, injuries, stalker-ish behavior from Rook Hunt, obsessive themes, worshipping of reader. Reader is implied to be gender neutral but some parts refer to them in a more "feminine" manner.

Synopsis: Rook was not a sadist, but his actions said otherwise. Was he really to blame when your fear-stricken face was just so endearing? No, Rook was not- he could not be a sadist. At least that's what he told himself. But, was he really so horrible or was there something more to it?

Note: Read at your own risk

Rook was a lot of things but he was not a sadist, he never found pleasure in another's pain- he was not so cruel. Bullshit. Because when it came to you, even the most ghastly wound became a fine piece of art. When you came into the question, Rook took being a hunter quite seriously. After all, would he really be one, if he didn't somewhat enjoy how you writhed in pain?

It was wrong. Rook knew it was wrong yet the pleasure he felt seeing your poor, frail form, all dependent on him- it was enough for him to forget all his morals.

Maybe it was that look of despair in your eyes, or it might have been how you desperately clutched onto his shirt. The way your eyes were wet with tears, heavy breaths leaving your lips as you felt the rip in your flesh.

How could he deny helping this broken beauty? After all, Rook Hunt would never deny a damsel in distress of her knight in shining armor.

The way protests left your mind, how your arms clutched around his neck as he picked you up. He saw it all.

It was beautiful- the lack of defiance, the docility, the obedience. The usual you would make a snarky comment, tell him to "fuck off", and of course he loved that version of you too. Yet, this frail, broken you was so deliciously compliant that he couldn't help but relish in it.

Don't get it wrong, it wasn't exactly your pain that he loved- but your dependence on him. The way you had no choice but to give up and let him take care of you. Wasn't it perfect? He got to care for you and you didn't even have to worry your pretty little head. You could be at peace while he guarded your precious body, so reminiscent of a temple.

It was his dream to serve you, to take care of you, to be in your presence without the mask you put up for others. It was his dream to see the real you, and right now, he got the chance to see a glimpse of it. He had the opportunity to see how you handled pain. Upon witnessing it, he couldn't deny that he wanted to see more.

He was sickening.

The way he had access to your room, the way you trusted him in this moment- it sent the blood rushing to his face.

It felt so right to carry you, to hold you, to embrace you- so endearing you were as you wet his shirt with your warm tears.

You said nothing, only weeped. You were scared, so frightened of the monster in front of you. Yet, you had no choice but to let him in, after all, your injuries were severe and he said he knew how to treat them. And he did treat them, letting his hands wander alongside.

His eyes were locked with the purple of your bruises, so reminiscent of fresh violets. How your crimson blood stained his clothes, the scent of iron engulfing him in a frenzy.

He loved it.

It wasn't as though he was only enjoying the view, no, he would never be so cruel. Still, he relished in the sight for as long as he could before wrapping your wounds in bandages. The feeling of being able to patch you up, bring you back to shape- as one would to a marionette- made him feel as though he was your god. It was this exact devotion he craved, though it may have been a trick his mind played on him for the looks you sent him were everything but welcoming.

He observed you, how you reacted to the burn of medicine seeping into your skin, the way you winced as he caressed your bruises. It brought such a perverse smile on his flushed face.

He was addicted to it.

No, Rook wasn't a sadist but at times the hunter within him just couldn't help but relish in the sickening sight of his beloved fawn. You were beautiful in all forms, yet one of his favorites was when you left yourself in his care, so dependent on him.

He loved you no matter how broken you could be.

He knew he was disgusting, revolting even but the way you called out his name, gruelling in pain was enough to feed his delusions that you didn't mind. How he wished he had snapped a couple photos of you, or maybe even drawn portrait as you lay in bed, so meekly.

He was twisted.

No, Rook was not a sadist, he did not enjoy another's pain but if that pain belonged to you, then even even something so vile could be beautiful. That pain, suffering- it belonged to you so of course he loved it so. It might have been perverse of him, vile, or even cruel but no matter what it was, once it belonged to you it would be the most beautiful of all.

How could he not find it beautiful?

Your body was coiled up, whimpering in such a delightful manner. Your eyes were half-lidded as you wept and your crimson blood seeped through the pristine bandages he'd covered you in. No matter how he perceived you, in that moment, your pain was the most heavenly vision of all.

Nevertheless, it did torment him to see you all bruised and broken- that was why he whispered sweet nothings in your ears, words that were incoherent in the moment. That was why he cradled you in his arms as you struggled to leave- he chose to ignore that. That was why he treated you as one would a lover, his hands crossing boundaries as you fainted.

How sinful you must have felt.

No, Rook was not a sadist- but upon witnessing your agony, he felt nothing but pure bliss. No, Rook did not love this version you because of the pain you felt- he loved it because of how dependent you were on him. No, Rook wasn't cruel, he wasn't twisted either- you were just too heavenly.

Maybe Rook was a sadist.

Note: If you enjoyed this, please interact with this post and reblog! Thank you! Any kind gestures are greatly appreciated!

Note 2: I love how Rook's character is a great source for dark material yet he can also be written in a more sweet manner. (I love this man with all my heart)

Note 3: Any unhealthy behavior depicted in this fic is not condoned nor encouraged by me. If you are facing any mental/physical abuse, please seek help immediately!

[icylancet]

If you want to get into Enstars lore...

With the upcoming prsk collab, I'm sure it's attracting people genuinely interested in learning Enstars lore. (Or if you're someone who's been playing Enstars but hasn't been engaging in the lore) In that case, do NOT start with the Reminiscence series, but instead, I highly recommend to read the Main Story first before anything else. You can read it through the English server, BUT if you want to know the very start of Enstars lore, read Basic/! era Main Story. (However, the unfortunate side is that Enstars doesn't really allow fan translations...)

You'd see people recommending stories from the Reminiscence series (Checkmate, Crossroad, Element, Marionette, Meteor Impact, Obligatto, etc.), but I highly advise to NOT read them if it's your first time learning Enstars lore — this was my mistake when I was a new fan lol. But if you do already know tidbits about Trickstar and Jin & Akiomi, then I do recommend reading their Reminiscence stories, which are Rocket Start and Guilty of Perjury respectively since it mainly tells their formation and initial dynamic with each other. The other Reminiscence stories I mentioned deal with heavy topics and require knowledge from ! era Main Story, so I really advise reading those first. It would give you a wrong impression of the characters (which is why I didn't like Shu and Eichi when I was new because my introduction to them was through Marionette💔 I'm a big ValkyrieP now though and i also love fine!)

If you want story recommendations for specific units (particularly Valkyrie, Knights, Switch, Akatsuki, 2wink, Trickstar), just send me a DM! I'm super willing to help anyone who wants to learn more about these lovely units

[tadc-harlequin-au]

God I'm way too invested in this au. Anyway I wanna hear more of the biology of the puppets and marionettes (might make fanart maybe)

I don't think I'm fully ready to delve into the topic of a Marionette because it reveals major story spoilers, for now just know that they are completely and utterly devoid of life, forever following an endless directive.

For the Puppets, I guess I can give a little bit more information about them, as long as I'm not crossing a personal story boundary I've set for myself lol

Once a Puppet reaches the first enlightenment stage, black tendrils begin to appear on their innermost structures slowly but steadily, as I've explained with Caine.

These things, these transformations... they can be jarring for the Puppet experiencing them for the first time especially when the Puppet starts to feel full sensations such as an electrifying jolt, a pain, or a touch, but make no mistake; aside from their weird alien appearance they mean no danger, and they can even come in pretty handy.

About half-way through the story, Pomni actually gains new abilities everytime she reaches a stage of enlightenment, and there are six steps to achieving the full process, and it may vary on how fast or slow these Puppets can achieve them.

Yeah, can you tell this is like, the leveling up system? lol

Firstly, let's start with Awareness.

Awareness is when a Puppet grows to think beyond their directive; their thoughts becomes separated from the imprinted norm that they used to know their whole existence.

Although, it's still the first stage, which means that even if a Puppet begins to think original thoughts for themselves, they'll still have a tendency to follow the original commands.

They'll just start thinking "hey, maybe I should stop and think about what exactly I'm doing for a second. Just for a second. Then I promise I'll go back to my routine."

At this rate, there's not much changes happening on the physical, except letting a Puppet feel physical touch, despite their mechanical body.

Secondly; Sentience

Sentience is when a Puppet grows... well, a genuine sentience, one that wasn't pseudo and pre-programmed into their very being.

They'll start exploring aspects that they haven't thought of exploring, and this is where creativity and imagination gets to shine a little more if the Puppet is on the creative side of things.

a Puppet may undergo a change of personality (not always guaranteed), so don't be surprised when the once-happy-go-lucky puppet starts crying out of nowhere.

black tendrils may seep out of an exposed joint or a cracked part, but they're only tiny little veins.

Thirdly; Conscience

Conscience is when a Puppet starts to feel emotions based on an inner moral system, that wasn't, again; pre-programmed into them.

they'll start to THINK what's right or wrong based on personal experiences, or maybe even remember their OWN former moral system from their past life, and even a combination of the two.

This is usually the part where they'll start to judge the directive imprinted into them, maybe bouts of unknown regrets will come too.

the veins become more noticeable at this stage, and can now be used for physical attributes/advantages.

Fourth; Reminiscence

This one is usually in tandem with the third, but not everyone can have the same case, since it always varies between all of them.

Reminiscence is when a Puppet remembers their past life prior to becoming what they are now; no strings holding them back from recalling anymore.

These come in the form of seeing major life events unfold right between your eyes; whereas before, there'll only be hazy glimpses.

Fifth; Persipience

Persipience is when a Puppet becomes wiser, and can now overcome the directive they were tasked with if they wished to.

This process can be agonizing for some because it is similar to the symptom of a withdrawal from an addiction.

Fortunately, once they've gotten over past that obstacle, they'll gain full automation over their bodies, the "itch" no longer as present as it used to be.

Sixth; Enlightenment

The final step.

A Puppet needs to come to terms with their new discovery.

They need to be at peace with the process of what had happened to them, accepting the progression from "Human" to "Puppet" as a part of their existence.

Final evolution takes place, and the Puppet can now fully utilize their soul magic to it's fullest extent.

Just like wisdom, not many are willing to go through this process/or can achieve this, since accepting the idea of "becoming a Puppet" like it's similar to the concept of growing up from adolescence to adulthood can be hard for some to fully stomach.

Although, it is considered as the "fully matured" process of the six stages.

Now, Madness takes just as much of steps as Enlightenment does. Only this time, you're on the wrong end of the stick.

Firstly; there's Isolation.

As the name itself applies, isolation is when a Puppet denies/is denied social interaction that their soul wants, prioritizing objectives over anything.

Subtle twitchiness may occur.

Secondly; Revelation

A revelation settles deep within a soul fragment laying inside a puppet's heart; they're trapped, and there's no escape.

Can also be called "entrapment", but revelation is cooler and sounds more fancy

Thirdly; Rebellion

Rebellion is when an attempt to rebel against the internal system of a Puppet takes place, but is not achieved due to the lack of free will and sentience on the physical and mental body.

The body becomes more uncontrollable, dangerously swinging and twisting.

the literal metaphor of an internal battle happening within oneself.

Fourth; Corruption

Another attempt is made by the soul energy, only this time, it's harnessing the worse aspects of a Puppet to propel itself and grow physically stronger, a desperate option.

large, black tendrils may burst through weaker parts and/or limbs; namely joints.

Repairs? What's that? Who even needs 'em lmaoooo

Fifth; Obsession

A Puppet begins to obsess over directives; a byproduct of the soul energy harnessing the negative traits that it's host was ingrained with.

The physical appearance of a Puppet becomes more grim, overexaggerated features that you'd only see in horror movies start to become more prominent.

Work is non-stop, no breaks. Liberation is irrelevant. The concept of humanity is irrelevant. They only exist to follow their directives now. If some shithead wants to tell you otherwise, they will fucking DIE.

Sixth; Madness

You've grown physically stronger. But at what cost?

ANYWAYS that was a massive infodump, what were talking about again?

Oh right. Puppet biology.

Uh, They're hella weird.

[n3komika]

ENSTARS TRANSLATIONS SHORTCUT ★

★ personal enstars TLs link shortcuts ! ‧₊˚

. . .

Reminiscence ＊ Marionette (追憶*マリオネット)

"Nazuna starts thinking about the reason for Valkyrie's departure—and fine. The story of the Five Eccentrics' past begins..."

Obbligato (オブリガート)

"COS PRO creates Project COMP to draw more attention to its affiliated schools. Consequently Eden, Tatsumi and HiMERU are invited to join COMP LIVE. While reminiscing about their old days, Jun notices that the HiMERU before him is different from the one he remembers..."

Checkmate (チェックメイト)

"Leo meets Eichi and begins building a relationship as friends. On the other hand, Eichi has begun his plan for a revolution."

Meteor Impact (メテオインパクト)

"Two years ago. Chiaki comes to the pool to clean up the mess made by that era's Ryuseitai when he finds Kanata crouching down at the bottom. This is the story of a boy who longed to be a hero, and a boy who was a god. ★"

Crossroad (クロスロード)

"Keito makes an effort to reform the school... Starting with a live at an underground live house that he visited with Rei, Keito's surroundings start to change."

Element (エレメント)

"Spring. Some days after the DDD ends, Switch was trying to hold a DreamFes in the school. Eichi is made to recall last year's incident by the new unit. The second chapter of fine and the Five Eccentrics' story, continuing into today."

Beasts (ケダモノ)

"Arashi receives huge fanfare for her photo collection, which put her masculinity on the forefront. Tetora sees this and begs Arashi to teach him how to be manly, but... ★"

Performance! The Tragicomedy of Romeo and Juliet (公演！悲喜劇のロミオとジュリエット)

"A Romeo and Juliet in which Romeo is a girl, and Juliet comes at her with animosity. The drama club’s performance this time does not at all seem to be a normal one, and... ★"

Part 1 - 12

Part 13 - 25

Setsubun Festival (節分祭)

"In accordance with Rei's plan for the Setsubun Festival, the school will play tag in which they will throw beans at the 'ogres'. Will there be any 'ogres' who survive to become the winner!?"

Human Comedy (人間喜劇)

"The Repayment Festival is the 3rd years' last stage. With all kinds of thoughts, they move along in their preparations, but Kuro comes to Ra*bits looking for Mika, who has gone missing... ★"

Steampunk Museum (スウェットパンク博物館)

"Valkyrie and 2wink, who have received a request for a live from a museum, are to portray the world of steampunk under Shu's supervision! ★"

Raison d'être (レゾンデートル)

"Mika makes his way to Paris after Shu tells him he wants to talk about the future. Upon hearing Mika's intent following graduation, Shu grows enraged. That's when news comes that Shu's grandfather has passed away. The two return to Japan to confirm the truth, however…"

ABYSS (海の鼓動 – Look back –)

"A mysterious vase left behind in the Marine Biology Club brings back memories of the old days. What is the mystery of "ABYSS" that Kanata and the others experienced when they were young…?"

JANUS (いざよう月の歌 – Look back –)

"Through a single photograph comes the recollection of childhood memories. This is a story about the encounter between two brothers who appear to transcend humanity, and an ordinary boy like any other."

PORTRAIT – Look back –

"Time has passed, and the truth of a "certain incident" is revealed in an interview. This is the story of three child models and a gravure model."

Dramatica (ドラマティカ)

"The theater group Dramatica is organizing their very first show, and Wataru leaves the casting to Hokuto. Hokuto goes to Tomoya for advice, and decides to ask Shu to play Sanzang, but..."

Sweet Halloween (スイートハロウィン)

"Ryuseitai, Ra*bits, and MaM have all decided to work together and prepare for the Halloween Party. While they're busy at work decorating the place and practicing for the event, it seems that Hajime and Tomoya are awkward around each other, and Chiaki is terrified of something…*"

Matrix (マトリックス)

"ALKALOID and Crazy:B are to face off in Matrix, a major event held by ES. To garner attention to this sibling face-off, Hiiro and Rinne end up exchanging the units they each lead."

Romantic (?) Date (ロマンチック？デイト)

"The idols have been asked to star as characters in the dating sim video game Love★Star. The filming is to be done in pairs, but HiMERU and Tatsumi seem to be having trouble..."

✦•┈๑⋅⋯

For more TLs refer to Enstars TL masterlist (by mika_enstars):

Event/Scout

Idol/Feature

⋯⋅๑┈•✦

※ synopsis are taken from The English Ensemble Stars Wiki

※ for removal please kindly let me know through dms

[acanth3]

追憶＊マリオネットの糸の先 / Reminiscence＊End of the Marionette's Strings

EPISODE 1

Mika: Hmmm? Only 30 minutes till’ our live and Nazuna-nii isn’t here yet…

Shu: Kagehira. Quit shaking, it’s uncomfortable. To rephrase it, it’s vulgar.

Don’t get distracted just because nobody is watching us, Valkyrie must always remain graceful.

If you behave unsightly I won't allow you to go up on stage. Understand? 

Whether you are there or not, it won't matter. 

Mika: Nnnnh, I’m sorry Oshi-san Standin’ around in the same place gets annoyin’. Is it okay if I follow you for a bit? 

Shu: Don't move on your own, even if you walk just a little you’ll soon forget what you have to do. 

As far as I’m worried you’ll ruin your costume.

Mika: Nnnh? Osh-san is worried about me~? I’m so happy.

Shu: What I’m worried about is the costume, not you! Just how much effort do you think went into tailoring the costume?

Kagehira, just take responsibility. 

It’s not something easy where you can just wash it if it gets dirty.

Mika: Nnnn~ I’m happy with our matchin' costumes. Oshi-san makes new costumes every live performance

So refreshin’ ♪

This is our general costume for Valkyrie right? Ha~ It’s cool, make us look like antique dolls ♪

Shu: It’s not supposed to create a nostalgic feeling, but the trend where it’s good if it’s new...I can’t stand it. 

I’m used to tailoring these kinds of costumes, I’m the only one who can prepare/tailor the costumes on my own. ♪

Mika: Nnnn, Mado-nee is also wearin' a matching costume! Cute~♪

Shu: That’s right, that’s right, praise more.

Rather than wearing it just because it looks cute on Mademoiselle, it’s only natural it looks good because I designed it. 

You too...Well it only looks good on you because you’re only good appearance-wise. 

Mika: Eh? Really? I’m happy~ Oshi-san has praised me~♪

Shu: Don't jump around! It would be a problem if you hooked your clothes somewhere, you careless person.

Nazuna: …..

Mika: Nnnhn!? I was surprised... Nazuna-nii how long have you been standin’ there? It’s quite late, I was worried! 

Nazuna: ….. 

Mika: Don’t act so intimidatin’! I’m older than you Nazuna-nii. I wont know what to do if you suddenly bowed yer head~...

Nazuna: …..?

Mika: Nnnn? Lookin’ at the costume? This is our basic Valkyrie costume, I get to match with you Nazuna-nii~♪

Nazuna: …..♪

Mika: Yeah! I think it looks great too! I’m sure it’ll look good on you too, Nazuna-nii.

Shu: Kagehira. Just shut up for a little bit. 

...It’s very late, Nito

Nazuna: …..

Shu: Well I’d say it’s okay, hurry get dressed. Your costume is over there. 

It’ll be difficult to wear it yourself, I’ll help you. 

Nazuna: ….. nods head 

Shu: Aaa, Nito, Nito, Nito…♪ My perfectly tuned, beautiful lovely marionette. Even today as well, you are perfect…☆

It’s a miracle of God given by heaven.

It’s such a shame to share this brilliant frame to average people in this world, I wish to keep it all to myself…♪

But unfortunately it cannot happen. 

Those insects are very disturbing these few days, so we have to defeat them. In order to do that we need you. 

Don’t worry, I’ll clean up this mess soon. 

Because it’s ‘fine’ we’re up against I thought what it would be like against Tenshouin, but after all, it’s child's play. 

They are not only the enemy of Valkyrie, of course there are others snobs within our eyes.

Let’s kick it all away, destroy it and pack it into a cheap stuffed toy♪

These days, including me, there’s a group called ‘ The 5 Eccentrics’ and so on.

At this point, everyone seems to be watching us silently. There is nothing in this world that tunes out our reign/superiority. 

Just a little more and this world will turn into a beautiful exhibition designed by me. 

It won't take long, just a little more patience. 

Nazuna: …..nods head

Shu: Nito, cute little rabbit…let's create a perfect world for you with no dust.

First of all, let’s begin to prepare for this showcase. 

Even if you spare the trouble of helping us, it’s still troublesome. 

Separated from the fools and the weak… let’s only bring the most beautiful and valuable into heaven.

Now, the beginning of a fun puppet show~ KaKaKaKa ♪

notes: i love shu sm im gonna die

[ensemblesongs]

『追憶＊マリオネットの糸の先』 (Reminiscence ＊ End of the Marionette's Strings) Event BGM

[eybefioro]

📚FIC MASTERLIST📚

I'm finally making one of these and trying to organise my blog lol

These are organised by word count, starting from the smaller ones. There's also a little guide (i guess):

🔥 - Spicy! 🧸 -Fluff/soft! 🎼- Songfic/song inspired! 🗡- Angst/feels! 🎉- humour/crack! 🤝 - Collabs! (art and/or writing) ⭐- favourites/rec!

Assorted ficlets: Nibbles and Munchies

⭐Give me the simple life 🎼🗡 Rated G, 813 words.

Aziraphale and Crowley have a quiet day in the bookshop, and a song carries Crowley away to think of a future. Unfortunately, this future filled with quiet days doesn't seem possible.

To love is to burn 🤝🧸🗡Rated T, ~1k words.

Even before the beginning, Lucifer wanted to give Crowley everything. Even through the War and the Fall, that's all he wanted; that and have Crowley by his side. (Technically a poem, but well... it fits in this list)

Thank God it's Christmas 🎼🧸 Rated G, ~1,1k words

Aziraphale and Crowley now live in their cottage, and the angel wants to re-enact their first kiss. (A continuation of sorts of All I want for Christmas is you)

⭐On display 🔥 🔥Rated E, ~2,3k words

In which Crowley is too tempting and Aziraphale rewards him.

Don't purr away from me 🧸Rated T, ~2,3k words.

In one of their nightcaps, Crowley doubts Aziraphale can shapeshift. The angel proves him wrong, but unfortunately for Crowley, he seems to really enjoy being a cat. (This fic is a fluffy one shot, of Aziraphale enjoying being a cat and Crowley being worried by it)

Tsunami 🧸🗡Rated G, ~2,4k words.

Heaven is non-place. Heaven is just nothingness. Aziraphale is deprived from feeling in his position as the Supreme Archangel. He reminisces about Crowley's love, until he's flooded again by it when Crowley takes the lift to heaven. (post S2 ficlet, just me being self-indulgent and describing their love, 'cause why not?)

Marionette 🗡🗡Rated M, ~2,8k words.

Crowley looses himself after everything, and Aziraphale couldn't stop the war.

All I want for Christmas is you 🎼🧸 Rated T, ~2,9k words

It's the last year before armaggedon, soon the antichrist would be 11 years old. The dread of the upcoming (possible) end of things creeps on Aziraphale, who decides to kiss the love of his life at least once before the end. To do so, he comes up with a very simple plan- he will only need a mistletoe. Or several.

I'll find you in every dream 🎼🗡 Rated G, ~3,3k words.

Crowley allows himself to wallow, and the Bentley helps him remember some precious memories through a song. Aziraphale misses Crowley and Earth terribly, and once more visits the Earth observatory, finding Crowley walking in St James Park. Or: The author daydreams scenarios as he listens to music, and now they're written in the hopes that they will stop haunting his head every time he listens to these songs.

guess 🎼🎉🔥Rated E, ~3,7k words.

Crowley gets impatient watching Aziraphale dine, and tempts her into finishing faster. Temptation very much not accomplished, but anyways the demon gets what he asked for.

Honk if you worship Satan! 🤝🤝🧸 Rated G, ~4k words.

Crowley had a plan. He had orchestrated everything, called in old favours, he even had outfits! All their friends were there, ready to help, and then the wonderful, beautiful bastard of an angel had to go and steal his thunder. (Exquisite corpse game!)

I understand you need a Nanny? 🔥 🔥Rated E, ~5k words

Crowley discovers Aziraphale's secret-not-so-secret attraction to Nanny Ashtoreth. They find a fun way to uncover all of Aziraphale's desires that he had to repress during the Dowling years.

⭐Elysium nostrum 🔥 🤝🧸Rated E, ~5,4k words

41 AD. An angel is tired of following Heaven, a demon needs some respite. A moment they shared; a moment they allowed themselves to be together, when actions spoke louder than their words.

The Great Bestiary Bonanza 🤝🤝🧸Rated M, ~5,7k words

Aziraphale is assisting with a restoration project of a bestiary — a medieval literary collection of animals and beasts, both real and fantasy. It contains art illustrations in a classical medieval-style with colorful descriptions. He and Crowley sit around one night, get high as kites, flirt with each other anxiously, and have a few laughs while looking at it. That's the plot.

It's raining Go-men! 🤝🤝🎉🧸 Rated G, ~5,7k words.

Crowley proposes to Aziraphale in an unusual way. He tries to make it right, but isn't exactly successful... Aziraphale tries to show how to do it properly, and they end up in a competition to see who can do it better. Who will say yes first? (Exquisite corpse game!) I can't remember if we're wed still, with all this said, let me ask again, and again, and again, even if just to gaze on your hidden smiles will we end up in the rain? who will succeed to lead the other down the aisles? after millennia of denial and pain finally let my joyous cries ring out, and echo, again Dear Angel, I love you, we shall no longer cower in lies

A box in the middle of nowhere 🤝🤝🎉🧸 Rated G, ~5,8k words.

Apocalypses done, apology dances performed, confessions of love declared, the pair has resigned to their South Downs Cottage. All is well until a date night game goes wrong, resulting in mystery hunt, a family reunion and more food than anyone knows what to do with. (Exquisite corpse game!)

A soft carpet to lie down 🔥Rated E, ~5,8k words

Furfur is very tired of his work. After Shax becomes Prince of Hell, he finds a way to scape taking trips to Earth, posing as a spy. He ends up finding comfort on the arms of a certain Shopkeeper of Wickber Street.

No way up 🤝🤝🗡🧸 Rated G, ~6,5k words.

The whole point of a magical elevator is supposed to be that it doesn't malfunction. So when the doors opened to the literal pits of hell, the newly appointed Archangel found himself in need of an escape plan, almost grateful that it was random demons he encountered first and not a certain Duke. (Exquisite corpse game!)

⭐Darling! 🤝🧸🧸 Rated G, ~7,3k words.

One day Darling, one of the town's stray cats, meets a weird couple that just moved in. It's strange that this white haired man keeps calling her name, but that's alright; his pets are the best. Or: The husbands meet a cute cat when they move in South Downs, and her name happens to be Crowley's preferred endearment. Crowley has to begrudgingly share Aziraphale's attention with Darling, and she's all too happy to get all attention just for her.

Sit at the kerb and stew! 🤝🤝🎉🎉🧸 Rated T, ~8,8k words.

'It was supposed to be a quiet afternoon, they were taking Aziraphale out for sushi. But unexpected car trouble has put a dent in Crowley's plans. Granting sentience to your Car is all fair when you don't want to worry about gas or the use of pedals in an emergency. But things become decidedly more complicated when the inanimate objects you're used to terrorising suddenly start to talk back.' (Exquisite corpse game!)

Asmi in Maggotland 🤝🎉🎉 Rated T, ~10,2k words.

Everything was normal, until Bee appeared with a giant clock, and Asmi, as the curious being that he is, had to follow them. Chaos ensues.

⭐Forgive me, Father 🗡🧸 Rated T, ~15,3k words.

Aziraphale lost almost everything in the bookshop fire. In the remains of his his life, he finds an old shoe box, and inside it the letters – and memories – he had buried for so long. While putting his life together again with the support of his friends, he relives his days as Father Fell and all the hurt and joy of having had Father Crowley by his side. A human AU, where Aziraphale and Crowley were priests in the same church.

Vavooming 🗡🔥 Rated E, ~17,1k words

Everything is back to normal after the two almostgeddon, but Aziraphale and Crowley are still rebuilding their relationship. Physical touch is still something they are figuring out, and Crowley is anxious about it. One evening he got overwhelmed by a touch on his knee and he had to flee home to… have some relief.

⭐Somewhere Between the Pages 🤝🧸 Rated T, ~26,8k words.

Agnes Nutter, the famous (and mysterious) author of the book series Accurate Prophecies will do a signing for the first time in her career — and of course Crowley had to get her autograph. What he didn't expect was to find his childhood best friend in the convention, and for memories from the last meeting to resurface. OR Childhood friends (and maybe a little more than friends) meet again after years of separation in a convention. Will they find love again between all the fan-excitement?

⭐Undercover 🤝🔥 🔥 🗡🎉🧸 Rated E, ~28,6k words.

After Aziraphale becomes the Supreme Archangel, Crowley is appointed as Prince of Hell. Some may think they aren't talking, but that's only true when they're busy with more pressing activities. (A collection of sexy times between our favorite angel and demon, trapped in an office hell/heaven scape, where the second coming that matters is not the Jesus one)

⭐To be a Guardian 🗡🧸🧸 Rated T, ~29,1k words.

Crowley has been lonely ever since the beginning of time, but with every millennia it gets harder and harder to deal with it. Warlock Dowling can't remember a time when he didn't feel alone. Having lost his parents early, he didn't had the opportunity to feel otherwise. One day, they meet at the park.

Wibly's Dungeons 'n Dragons 🤝🔥🗡🎉🧸 Rated E, ~41,4k words.

This is a Choose Your Own Adventure DnD style birthday present for the wonderful Wibly!

⭐TSATO Volume 1 AND TSATO Volume 2 🤝🤝🤝🔥🗡 Rated E, ~48,2k / ~43,5k words.

EPIC collab. part of a series in 7 parts. I highly recommend that you start at Volume 0. And I promise: there is a happy ending!

~This story starts, as it will end, in the stars.~ Crawly is a singularity, born in the Empty and thriving in it, until the day Life settles into the universe. As that happens, she descends onto the planets in her vicinity. Several centuries, maybe even millennia, pass; Crawly got integrated enough in the society of a planet that she is the long-standing Queen and main deity of that planet. Aziraphale comes as a scientist from another planet that hers made an agreement with; thus begins their relationship. Crawly slowly comes to terms with her feelings with Aziraphale as their story evolves and their travels through the galaxy continue.

WIPS

Cheek to cheek 🤝🧸 Rated E, ~5,7k words.

Crowley has two left feet, and he has to learn how to dance to be a good man-of-honour for his best friend. Turns out his dance instructor is an old crush from university... How will our hero cope? OR Eve is the best friend Crowley could have, Crowley is a (flustered) flirt, and Aziraphale tries his best to be a professional.

TRADUÇÕES

Empoderado 🔥Rated E, ~6,2 words

Após ser desafiado por Shax, Furfur toma o controle, e Shax, normalmente quem dá as ordens, se submete à ele completamente. O que começa como uma troca de poder rapidamente se torna uma exploração da confiança, vulnerabilidade e desejo entre eles. Furfur aprecia cada segundo que ele tem tomando as rédeas, já que sabe que é algo que ele nunca vai ter como garantido de sua jóia preciosa. 🇧🇷 TRADUÇÃO PT-BR • Original é de isiaiowin

Como Um Jardim Sem Sol 🤝🗡Rated T, ~6,3 words

AU. Aziraphale devia saber que isso era uma má ideia. Desde o começo, ele devia saber que era uma má ideia. Mas ele continua cometendo os mesmos erros, e não é só ele quem tem que pagar por eles. Continuação de ‘Flores para Anthony’ e ‘Aquele Que Te Arrancou Do Talo’, multi-capítulo, ponto de vista do Aziraphale sobre o que andou acontecendo. 🇧🇷 TRADUÇÃO PT-BR • Original é de Atalan

[idl3dr3ams]

I can't draw it. I already know I'll lose motivation part way through after getting caught up on some little detail

But I have this vision in my head of The Watcher in the Wings

This god is humanoid, but distinctly avian in its form

It has many faces plastered around its head, the skin is stretched and contorted, each face depicts a different emotion. Joy, sadness, anger, fear, perhaps some we cannot name. Like the masks of old Greek plays. But exaggerated well beyond even the most extreme expressions possible for man.

And it has many MANY wings. Large, feathered, jet black wings. Like a crow, or a raven's. They double as arms, each wing bares a talon-like hand, and each hand holds a wooden cross brace, but there are no marionettes attached at the end. The strings seem to float rather than simply hanging, as if they're pulling at the fabric of reality itself rather than any puppet

It's angels form the audience

A murder of vicious crows

Beady-eyed and ready to swoop in should a saint, or their god itself, be threatened

They aren't REALLY crows of course, there's something.... off.... about them

Like the snare-dogs of Penda's Slake

[I haven't thought their design through thoroughly but I took the beating wings as clapping and ran with it. I'm thinking that instead of split faces like the snare dogs, the crow angels have 2 or 3 heads]

It's worshipers are given the honor of ascending to sainthood after their curtain-call

They come to bare the many faces of their god, and their body becomes more reminiscent of its angels. Wings of flesh and bone sprout from their backs. Their original face, twisted in beautiful agony, is reshaped to accomodate a beak. The skin of their legs grows rough and their feet grow into talons.

These saints cannot fly

They cannot sing

But it's no longer their turn to preform, so that's ok.

[I'm toying with the idea of intestines, or strips of muscle, becoming marionette strings that float above them, unattached to anything, but serving as a symbol of their connection with their god]

[lisxdumbr]

Fuck your zodiac sign

You cannot choose more than one. Just your favorite, that's the whole point.

[outoutdamnspark]

I’ve talked about Lickitung!Submas, but what about Haunter!Submas?

Ghostly, mischievous gremlin men that live in an old, abandoned section of the subway, reveling in the darkness and all the people they can spook when they feel like haunting busier parts of the train station. They sometimes ride the trains at night just to watch the world flying past outside the windows, or scare the shit out of anyone that looks like they’re up to no good, harassing passengers, picking pockets, and the like. They aren’t mean or malicious, but they’re Haunters, mischief runs in their metaphorical veins. 

Imagine them looking far less human than what’s considered socially acceptable, with spiky spectral bits and large eyes, teeth too sharp and claws to long; maybe their hands aren’t even attached and it’s just a faint trail of glowy who-knows-what that “connects” their clawed hands and jagged forearms to the rest of their bodies, like sentient marionettes. Their legs, too, maybe, there's just part of their thighs visible before the turn transparent just above the knees, ending in feet that don’t look like they belong to a body, appearing seemingly out of nowhere at the end of invisible legs and never touching the ground.

Their heads could be disconnected, too, for maximum monster effect. There’s a smokey purple-grey mist that drifts from their necks, reminiscent of their time as Ghastlies, but there’s no visible neck - maybe no neck at all, and they can carry their heads in their hands just for funsies if they get bored of keeping their heads where they normally belong. Like the Lickitung boys, their tongues are long and thick and prehensile, good for pulling faces and poisoning anything that annoys them. 

Give me ethereal, partially incorporeal, gradiently transparent ghoulie train men to quench my Halloween thirst~

Imagine sneaking into their part of the subway on a dare, or maybe you get lost, or you follow the sounds of groaning and ghostly shrieking because you’re looking for cheap thrills, only to be surprised by a pair of handsy, curious, trickster ghost-type hybrids who both know hypnosis and have been absolutely yearning for a new plaything…

[slutshakespeare]

highlights from physical therapy today:

• “how are you up and walking with bilateral partial hip dislocations”

“like a drunk penguin”

“sounds about right”

• touches my hips “ew tabby what the fuck”

• “have you been using your wheelchair?”

“no it’s really annoying”

“ok well next time be annoyed”

• “your neck is just not doing it for me right now”

• “the muscles around your spine are reminiscent of a marionette after my toddler gets ahold of it”

• “wow your butt has never been this angry before”

and my personal favourite:

• “i’m very proud of you for wearing your neck brace after you fell. i know you love suffering”

[bdoublebits]

KANADE YOISAKI NPTS'S !!!

Names; Kana , Kanadette , Aurelia , Fleur , Composette , K , Comsulette , Carnation , Carnasulette , Carnosette , Farida , Faridulette , Farette , Slumbette , Slumbulette , Robin , Amelia , Amity , Beau , Lolette , Decorette , Deculette , Carrosel , Carousulette , Masquette , Marionette , Melody , Melodulette , Melodette , Echolette , Dawn , Dawnulette , Amulet , Fang , Fangsulette , Shadow

Prns; Hy/Hymn , Com/Compose , Myu / Music , Tal / Talent , Grae/Grace , Rem / Reminisce , De / Decora , Nya / Nyas , Cat / Cats , Mew / Meow , id / identity , night / nightcord , noi / noir , Twi / Twilight , Ye / Yearn , Shi / Shiny , Loli / Lolita , Lo / Lolita , Xy / Xylocopa , Doll / Dolls , Mem / Memory , Mem / Memoir , Mel / Melody , War / Warmth , Save / Saviour , Ni / Night , Star / Stars , El / Elpis , So / Song , Pro / Produce , Idol / Idols , One / Ones , Mid / Midnight , Bug / Buggu , Choco / Choco , En / Envy , Fyu / Future , Vi / Villain , Ki / Kitty, Sam / Samsa , Dis / Discord , Cyut / Cutlery , Cyu / Cyute , Tri / Tricologe , Rain / Rains , Lag / Lags , Train / Trains , Jack / Jackpot , Re / Reborn , Ve / Venom , ob / obscure , ay / aym , ae / aer , me / mim , ne / nym , az / azure , myu / muse , nyo / nyote , tre / treble , la / las , ta / tas , trum / trumpet , kyu / kyus , kya / kyas , hy / hide , pyu / pyure , pray / prayers

Titles; *she Who is Blessed By Music , The Hanged *girl , The Decora dressed cat *girl , *she who lies in flowers , The Composer , The *girl loved by music , *she who wakes up late , *she who isn’t used to waking early , +she who turns feelings into melodies , *she who lies in a flowerbed of memories , *she who squints at sunlight , *her burning determination , *she who gives warmth , *she with memories of a gentle tone , *she who pours tea , the *girl with a saviour complex , *her unseen sound , *her pure spirit , *she with unspoken feelings , *she who’s prone to self-isolation , the *girl in the decora/lolita/gothic gown , *she with self-inflicted colorlessness , *she who lowers *her eyes, *she who wishes she were dead , *she who is close to gray , *she who lives the cellphone love story , *she who is hated by life , *she who thoughtlessly says she wants to die , *she who hates the cards *she’d been dealt , *she who treads between reality and dreams , the tired composer , the composer who operates at 25:00 / 1am , the ever sleepy composer , the blessed composer , the cold one’s saviour , *she who places a hand on others’ back , *she who composes the future , the self-isolating composer , *she in the mirror who is unknown , *she who runs the obscure parade , *her lifelike parade

* = can be changed for another term !!

Sys Names; Composer's syndicate , A saviours accord , The muses convent , A muses accord , A suicidal girls/boys/kids accord , The webscreen stage , A composers accord , the composers stage , the composers pact , The nightstruck coalition , The comforters pact , a bed of flowers , the composers archive , the saviours patrons , late wakers/risers collection , a self-isolating accord/collection/coalition , the musically blessed collection , those who were hung , a lifelike accord , the composers specialty shop , the specialty shop , unfamiliar reflections , an obscure parade , hearts in water , a marionettes stage