#tag i never thought i would use

[arabellasleopardcoat]

The dragon has three heads (Viserys x Reader x Daemon)

Summary: It's Viserys first day as King. You and your twin see him off.

A/N: We interrupt my scheduled hate of Viserys to bring you this. I thought it out when writing another request.

Warnings: Daemon x sister!Reader x Viserys to fulfill double penetration. So oral sex and vaginal sex plus Targcest.

Your limbs felt heavy. Your mind was sluggish and soft, still submerged in the waters of sleep. In and out you drifted, cradled gently in someone's arms. There was noise around you, movement. But your eyes remained closed because you knew you were safe.

A ticklish sensation on the sole of your feet made you pull it up, kneeing your pillow. The pillow made a hurt noise, and you scrunched up your face. You were not ready to wake up yet.

Your pillow shook. You looked up, blinking wearily. Daemon's eyes stared down at you. He was fighting laughter. The light inside your shared chambers was hitting him from behind, making his silver hair shine like a halo.

There was another tickle to your soles. You squirmed, and tried to hide under the sheets. You did not want to get up just yet.

“Come on. Up, sleepyheads.” Your brother's hand curled around your ankle, tugging. You whined more, clinging to your twin. “Won't the two of you see me off today?”

Daemon groaned. Now that Viserys was including him in his plans, he did not seem as amused by your plight. You echoed his noise. Viserys remained as cheerful as ever.

“Is that the way to address your King?” He teased, tickling the arch of your foot. You yipped and kicked the sheets away, letting you as naked as the day you were born.

“Thank the Gods that you are cute.” Viserys said, unbearably fond. Daemon stretched as well, fishing for his own compliments. He, too, was naked. “Both of you.”

You finally turned to face Viserys, finding him already dressed for the day. He even had his crown on. The reminder of your triumph made you smile. Though cousin Rhaenys had a stronger claim to the throne, Viserys was a man. A King always trumped a Queen. And you were the lucky woman who was married to him.

“Morning, brother.” You beamed at Viserys. He beamed right back.

Daemon pulled you closer, pressing his erection to your back.

“And what of your twin? Or are measly Princes no longer enough for you?” He asked, kissing your shoulder. Despite his playful words, you could feel Daemon's hesitation. It was Viserys first day as a King, and your first as his Queen. He probably wondered where he fitted in all of that.

During your whole childhood, the three of you had been together. Where Viserys went, Daemon and you followed. He had been the best older brother that anyone could ask for, always looking out for you.

It had been Viserys who had discovered Daemon and you, all those years ago. When the two of you were nothing more than a young girl and boy, fascinated by the differences in your bodies. Viserys had been the one to teach both of you the pleasures you could pull from it.

The three of you had married under the traditions of your house as soon as Daemon and you reached the majority. Three heads for the dragon, just as your banner, and just as Aegon and his two sisters wives.

It was not unheard of, for Targaryens to wed sister and brother. But what was unheard of was for a woman to marry two men. And so, Viserys and you had married under the Faith of the Seven to prevent a scandal. In the eyes of the realm, you were his, and it was only more cemented by your position as his queen.

It must have upset Daemon, but you knew it was the best course of action as to not attract unwanted attention. It had also been your grandfather's condition. The wounds from Maegor's reign were still too fresh in his memory.

To you, of course, it meant nothing. The bond you had with Daemon was even stronger. You were twins. Two halves of the same soul, separated into two bodies. You were never apart, not even when physically separated, for you were the same being.

Viserys gave you a look. You nodded, and turned to kiss Daemon. If he was in need of reassurances, you were going to give them to him.

You gave Daemon a slow, passionate kiss. You made sure to leave no corner of his mouth unexplored, no inch unkissed. Viserys quietly seated himself on the bed next to your twin, back propped against a pillow, legs stretched. When his hands reached for your back, you finally stopped making out with your twin and laid down, head between his thighs.

Daemon pouted.

“What are you doing?”

Viserys remained fully dressed, in what must have been a confusing sight to Daemon. Your twin and you enjoyed playing different games than this. When you were with Viserys, he liked to play husband and wife. Daemon and you had never fully evolved from the childhood games of slipping a finger in, taking something inside your mouth, raking nails across each other's ribs. While he had taken you as a man was meant to take his woman, it was a rare occasion.

You knew he had fucked other women, common whores and nobles alike. But he always came back to you, and never dared take you in such a way unless you begged for it. He didn't want to defile you, perhaps. Didn't want to lump you in with them. You were still his little sister, his hāedus. Precious, pure, Valyrian. Made by the gods to his image and likeness.

“Come on.” Viserys said, smoothing your hair back. “Doesn't she look good, brother?”

“She does. She always does.” Daemon spoke, as if caught in a trance.

“Will you get me ready for you?” You asked him, pouting. Daemon looked at Viserys. Whatever that he saw, it seemed to please him, for he leaned in over you. The wet, smacking sounds over you, told you that they had started to make out. You took your chance to run your hand over Daemon's stomach, gently scratching with your nails.

He shivered, just as you thought he would. With a gentle hand, you took his member and started to tease him. Daemon gasped.

Viserys’ hands started to pull at your nipples, making you arch from the bed. You felt yourself become slick with want already, arousal pooling in your belly and making you whine wantonly.

Your noises made your brothers pull apart. Viserys chuckled, his caresses turning more insistent now that Daemon wasn't distracting him with a kiss.

“Sweet little whore.” Daemon whispered, brushing your cheek with almost reverence. You pulled him on top of you, rubbing yourself against his thigh without an ounce of shame.

“I want you inside me, dārilaros.” You licked the shell of his ear, playfully. Daemon groaned.

“In your..?” He asked, softly. You never knew him to be so hesitant.

“My cunt, Daemon.” You rolled your eyes. You were his twin, after all.

“But Viserys…”

“I will have her mouth.” Viserys ordered, and finally took off his crown. He set it aside, and opened his breeches. You leaned your head on his thigh, watching him loom over you.

Viserys was the decision maker of the three of you. When faced with dilemmas, he took rash, decisive action. Daemon was mercurial, and prone to sudden mood swings, which often meant that he second guessed himself. You, like Viserys, were stubborn as they came.

A hand on your thigh startled you. It was Daemon, gently making room for himself. You let your thighs fall apart, showing him your slick cunt. He hummed appreciatively, and slowly started rutting against you, without entering. He dragged his tip against your entrance, teasing the both of you, before tapping it against your pearl and starting all over again.

You tried focusing on Viserys, taking him inside your mouth. He was as impatient as Daemon, though, so his hands found immediate purchase on your hair.

“Show me how good of a Queen you are, my love.” His thumb brushed over the slope of your nose, careful. You twisted yourself as good as you could, knowing that when Daemon entered, you would have a hard time doing more than using Viserys’ lap as a pillow.

His manhood was heavy on your tongue, the taste salty and musky. You looked up at him, mischievously. Viserys groaned, and urged you to take him deeper.

But you were a Targaryen and a Queen. You took orders from no one. Instead, you twirled your tongue around him, licking him sloppily. You knew there would be time for deep thrusts into your throat later on. Viserys’ thighs shook under you, throwing off your rhythm.

Daemon got down on his stomach, and sucked your pearl inside his mouth. There was no finesse to the way he was touching you, just pure desperation. It made you jolt and choke a moan around Viserys’ cock.

Daemon needed you wet and open, fast. His own desperation was showing in the way he gripped at you, almost cruel. He pressed a finger inside you and growled.

“You are soaked, little sister.”

You would have given him a snide reply, but you were too busy sucking Viserys' cock. Thank the gods the three of you had stayed up celebrating last night, or otherwise it would have been too much and too fast.

You thanked the gods that the three of you had stayed up last night celebrating, and not gone straight to bed. Otherwise, your body could not take it.

Noticing your distress, Viserys starts rubbing your breasts, softly kneading.

“You are doing so good, my Queen.”

“Our Queen.” Daemon pulls away from your cunt, annoyed.

“Treat her like it, then.”

Daemon grumbles a little, but complies. The desperate fingering of your poor hole slows down to a more manageable pace. Your moans around Viserys lost their pained edge, and you were able to go back to focusing on pleasing him.

Your twin gets more dedicated with his kisses. He slows down, licking your sex from top to bottom until you are squirming and unable to focus on anything else but the way he is kissing you.

You let go of Viserys cock, resting your head on his thigh. Your face scrunches up, jaw already a little sore. You moan, loud and high.

Your older brother gives you a kind look and pets your hair, pushing it back from your face. He seems as mesmerized by the sight of your twin lapping up the nectar between your thighs as you are.

“Be quiet.” He chides. “Or I will take your mouth until you are too sore to cry out.”

The thought, coupled with the way Daemon is starting to push his tongue inside you, makes you kneen. One of your hands timidly goes to his silver hair, encouraging him to go deeper. Your other hand reaches for Viserys, who gives you his outstretched hand to hold.

“Quiet, hāedus.” Viserys squeezes your hand.

Daemon stops his ministrations. He looks up at you, face wet with your slick, and chuckles.

“Give her your cock back, Viserys, if you are that bothered by the noise.”

“I am waiting for the two of you.”

“Afraid I will bite your cock once Daemon presses…” You tease, but before you can finish your sentence, Daemon gives your ankles a mighty tug and buries himself to the hilt inside you. “Ah. Brother…” And you are not even sure which one of them you are pleading to anymore. You have forgotten whatever smug comment you were going to say to Viserys, mouth falling open with surprise and pleasure.

Daemon feels right inside you. Warm, thick and reaching just the place where you need him to. Just the place that makes your smug comments and piling on Viserys fall away, mind gone blank with nothing but the need to give the two of them perfect Valyrian babes. Twins, like you and Daemon, or at least, a litter of siblings that can marry each other and keep your bloodline pure.

“Brat.” Daemon says, fondly. “Stop being mean to Viserys. You need to apologize. Relax your jaw for him.”

So you do. You open your mouth, letting it hang open, and give Viserys your best puppy eyed look. He snorts, very undignified for a King, and places the tip of his cock against your mouth. You whine.

“Spoiled little thing, isn't she?” Viserys pulls his hips away, and you do your best to give chase, whining more. Daemon tuts, and grips you firmly by the waist. Viserys look at him, and they exchange a glance, communicating without a word needing to be said. “Did that look like an apology to you, Daemon?”

“Not at all, brother.” He pulls out of you as well, making you whine more.

“That is so unfair!” You complain. “The two of you are teaming up against me.”

“Like you were trying to do before with me, huh?” Daemon asks, meanly pinching your thigh. You shriek and kick at him a little. “You were being mean to Viserys.”

“Oh, like you aren't!” You squirm away from him, turning on to your belly so he can’t pinch at you. You crawl towards Viserys, hoping he will protect you. Instead, he only tugs at your wrists, keeping them pinned down so you can't move.

You are trying so hard to get free of Viserys’ grip that you make a fatal mistake. You don't notice Daemon at your back, getting ready to strike. And strike he does. He smacks your arse, making you wince and fall forward into Viserys. Daemon smacks your arse again. And again. It's edging into picking of you, rather than just teasing. It's making you unbelievably wet.

“Viserys!” You scream. “Do something!”

“You are a little brat. But so is he. Enough.” Your older brother orders, letting go of your wrists. He gives Daemon a warning look. “Both of you.”

You give Daemon a superior sneer over your shoulder. You stick your tongue out. He snarls, and tugs at your hair.

“You are the Queen and Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. Behave as it befits your station.” Viserys says. “Daemon, inside. You, open your mouth.”

Daemon laughs. You do so as well. Viserys pouts.

“It's an order from your King.” He repeats, pompously.

“Alright, alright. If the King orders it.” You say, and open up your mouth. You make your best effort to let your jaw go loose, and welcome him inside. He is considerate enough to not start thrusting right away, but you know soon that patience will be tested. Viserys is as much of a dragon as Daemon and you are, and he is not one to deny himself of his pleasure. He can take you over and over on his good days, fuck you until you cry, and remain unbothered by your tears. In a sense, Daemon and him are the same.

You feel Daemon's hands on your back, warning you that he is soon to move. You widen your stance, knees falling even more apart. He slides inside carefully enough, but the stretch still hurts. You wince, and Viserys is quick to smooth down your frown with a thumb, very gentle.

Both of your brothers are very tuned in to your reactions. Consequence of being a twin, for Daemon. Consequence of being the eldest, for Viserys. They are cautious about your discomfort. You wonder what would they be like if you were not a Targaryen.

You have heard Daemon could be quite cruel with whores. He had a taste for Valyrian girls, of pouty mouths and tight little bodies, barely out of childhood. Viserys had wandering eyes, and mistook every kindness for flirting. He only read you right because he had known you all your life. They respected your strength and power too much to do anything else.

Daemon hands goes to your pearl, rubbing quick little circles in the hope of making you relax. You force your body to accept his intrusion, and go lax in between them, trusting them to not let you fall.

Viserys starts thrusting into your mouth, shallowly at first. He works on opening up your throat for him, and you try to focus on breathing to your nose. Gagging happens regardless. Daemon jolts you too much once he starts moving not to.

“Seven Hells. Do that again.” He mutters to Viserys, after a particularly vicious thrust on your throat. “She flutters delightfully when she chokes.”

You garble out an indignant reply at their lack of consideration, but you are quickly soothed by Daemon's fingers rubbing your pearl. He keeps his strokes long, making sure to drag against your walls in the most pleasurable way.

Viserys soon starts to praise you under his breath. He is the one who has been teased longer, so it makes sense that he would be the first of the three of you to let go.

“You are so good. Your mouth, sister…”

You grin around his member. You double your efforts, sucking at him and bobbing your head with enthusiasm. Your focus is so much on him that your peak takes you by surprise, and with one last thrust of Daemon's hips, you are screaming around Viserys. The vibrations against him prove to be too much, and he too goes over the edge with a muffled curse. He barely manages to pull out of you, painting your chest white.

Daemon is spurred on by the sounds and sights around him, and he snaps his hips once, twice, thrice, before he is screaming his release. You feel it coat your thighs, and it's only then that you allow yourself to collapse into Viserys.

“I was already dressed for the day.” He complains. “Can't walk into the council covered in my own seed.”

“Change later.” Daemon says, plopping on top of you and by extension, Viserys. Your older brother groans. “You are not going yet.”

“They will come looking for me.” Viserys tries to wiggle out of the cuddle pile, but the weight of your twin, and you combined is too much to do anything.

“Let them come.”

[kokodrawings]

It's ok, Minato asked for permission first

[brandirecognition]

comic about a dream I had

[strangersatellites]

posting this feels like I'm crawling out of my grave and gasping for air

anyway- inspired by this post by @inthedarknessofnight

here's 1.3k of concert photographer!Steve and rockstar!Eddie because I couldn't get this out of my head

gimme, gimme more

1.3k words | this is the most g-rated thing I've ever written, it won't happen again

Steve’s feet hurt.

They always do after a show, but this one was particularly hard on him.

He’s been at this venue for two years now and shot countless shows in that time. But never in his career has he been challenged so– athletically. 

The photo pit at this place is light years better than his last venue. There’s more than enough room for all of the photographers and their gear without stepping on each other. Usually Steve is grateful for this because surely there is only so many more beatings his 35mm can take before it kicks the bucket. Today though, he’s grateful for the space because of the full-tilt sprint this band had him in. 

He’s never seen anything like it.

Well, less so did the band have him in a sprint and more so the frontman but, semantics. 

The guy is everywhere. Steve could barely keep up with the way he ran around stage, jumping, climbing on equipment, leaning off-stage toward the barricade.

It was fun but Jesus, what is his deal?

Steve hadn’t even known who Corroded Coffin was 24 hours ago. Now he’s burned through two SD cards in an hour and a half. 

The guy’s hot and a good photo subject, sue him.

Well, he thinks he’s a good photo subject at least. He won’t know until he’s culled through every single shot. Steve’s a good photographer, took to it naturally the first time he picked up a camera. His downfall though, according to his college professors at least, was that he pays absolutely no attention to what he’s shooting while he’s shooting it. Hence the overshooting. 

On more than one occasion he’s gotten started on editing and someone is wearing an outfit he’s never seen before, someone’s got sunglasses on in every photo, a tag hanging off their jacket. All he’s concerned with is the framing, the lighting, and the focus. The content can be a problem for Future Steve. Everything can be fixed in post.

Almost.

Anyway, his feet hurt and he hates culling, so he pours himself a full glass of wine and plops down on the couch in front of an episode of trash tv with his laptop and props his feet up. Settles in for a long night.

2,461 images.

He throws his head back with a groan. Ugh. 

The first hundred or so are garbage.

They always are.

A few shots spent fucking with the exposure, a few the focus, some the flash.

He denotes the purple flag as his ‘good’ tag and orange as his ‘trash’ tag. The orange is stacking up fast. Around 163 he starts finding some good images. Ones that aren’t tainted by motion blur from his running around after this frontman. 

His photos of the drummer are pretty sick; he can't lie. The lights and the smoke and the near-manic smile on his face make for great photos. He’s not even this band’s personal photographer but he can imagine at least one of these will get posted to the band's socials. He’s good, what can he say?

He has a good bit of the bassist, his energy infectious enough you can almost feel it through the screen. Purple is making a comeback.

He finally gets through some crowd pics, some more drummer, some guitarist, some detail shots before he finally makes it to the frontman. 731 photos later. 

What did Wikipedia say his name was? Eddie, he thinks.

Weird, the very first shot Steve has of him he’s making fierce eye contact with the camera.

Ew.

No matter how long Steve does this, photos of people looking directly at the camera never get less jarring. 

Orange tag. Trash.

The next one is exactly the same.

Shit. 

He’s really bad to fall victim to the high speed shutter on this camera and often finds himself with a dozen copies of the same picture. Looks like he’s done it again.

Orange.

More piercing eye contact.

What? He squints and flips back and forth between the last two photos.

They’re not even remotely similar. As a matter of fact, Steve was in a completely different location in the pit for the second one. 

Green tag. Come back to this.

Taking a long swig from his glass he shifts so his laptop is closer to his face. Thinks that surely he’s not seeing this right. 

He takes to forgoing his tagging system and just flipping through every photo as fast as his fingers can press the arrow keys.

He’s clicked through about 200 when he starts getting worried, his heart rate speeding up. Surely he got something usable.

“What the fuck?”

He’s clicked through 50 or 60 more when he decides that, no he did not fall victim to the shutter speed at all. This guy is just making direct eye contact with his camera in every single photo.

Steve’s not mad, the opposite really. He didn’t spend much time looking at the guy during the show and now he gets to have an eyeful while he works. What’s there to be mad about? 

He is, however, mildly concerned that he won’t have a single decent photo to use for the venue socials when he posts about this show.

Whatever. Maybe fans of their music are also fans of uncomfortable eye contact. Who knows?

He finishes sifting through the rest of the photos, Eddie staring directly down the lens in every one, one’s where he’s not the subject included. Throws them all in an editing software and mass edits them all at once. He’ll detail edit later.

While the eye contact was a little unsettling, he did get one photo he’s particularly happy with. One that makes it look like the staring was on purpose.

It’s during the second to last song, a ballad– or as close as you can get with a metal band. Eddie’s standing center-stage and Steve had snagged the spot directly in front of him. He’s looking straight down, backlit with red spotlights, surrounded by smoke pumping from side-stage, and just close enough that Steve can see the sweat dripping down his neck. He looks a little bit scary, but that’s how Steve likes ‘em. 

That’ll be the cover photo for sure.

He shoots an album link to his boss to review before he distributes them anywhere, then spends  the next twenty minutes laughing to himself while he collects the goofiest photos of Eddie staring straight at his lens.

He puts them in a new album and copies the link.

When he opens up Instagram and searches Corroded Coffin he lets out a low whistle at the six million followers. Maybe he really should know who these guys are. With that many followers he doubts they’ll even see a message from his personal account, but whatever. He clicks on the message button on their profile and hits paste.

@ steveharrington.jpeg Great show tonight! Somebody tell this guy that he is allowed to look away from the camera though…

He only waits a few minutes for the reply.

@ corrodedcoffin HOLY SHIT THAT WAS YOU

@ corrodedcoffin Wait hang on

His phone pings with a message from a new account.

@ whoiseddiemunson HOLY SHIT THAT WAS YOU

@ whoiseddiemunson Sweetheart I wasn’t looking at the camera

Steve furrows his brows, confused. Starts typing a response but gets interrupted by another message.

@ whoiseddiemunson I was looking at the smoking hot guy behind it. Kinda hard to get a good look when he’s hiding behind the camera though.

Steve feels his cheeks flush and huffs a laugh to himself.

@ steveharrington.jpeg Well the guy behind the camera did manage to get a few good ones even though he was under surveillance the whole show. Wanna see those?

@ whoiseddiemunson Hell yeah I do. I just scrolled through your profile, your work is amazing. Do you want to show me the rest? Maybe over coffee tomorrow?

Steve smiles. His earlier heart palpitations replaced with butterflies.

@ steveharrington.jpeg Is this a date?

@ whoiseddiemunson It better be

[sad-girl-hours23]

"I thought you left."

[valcaine]

I am a year older, now . 🎂

‼️‼️The Biggy Piggy ref upon ye‼️‼️

Some of my art will alternate on his design depending, but this is the basic one I will be using as of now !! gaze upon my works and despair

[neymiiie]

I just want to see him again.

[dunkinbublin]

very special guests this wednesday

[enthyrea]

your art is beautiful, would you be willing to draw steve and bucky? 🙏🙏

luckily for you i drew this for a friend a little while back! its a bit wonky but i hope this is to ur liking anon

[dreamsy990]

you know i used to think it was weird how sora and roxas have such different personalities for supposedly being 'the same person' but after playing a few games i sort of realized that they do have similar personalities, because roxas acts how sora does when he's under extreme stress.

compare roxas to sora in, say, kh1. that's where a lot of peoples idea of sora's personality comes from. sora is generally very upbeat and optimistic in that game. not very similar to roxas, right?

but let's switch the game and talk about a game where sora is ABSOLUTELY GOING THROUGH IT. chain of memories.

sora's resting state is melancholy in com. he only ever cheers up in short bursts, usually when he's joking around with friends. just like roxas.

he's quick to anger, and tends to lash out at the organization members. best example of this is when larxene makes him 'remember' namine, and he swings at her repeatedly, even after she's gone. he only stops when jiminy is able to snap him out of it.

you know what scene that resembles?

sora, while a bit more on the angry side and less sad, continues to act like this in kh2 when he's in stressful situations. (he also has a tendancy to insult people which, while it's not very related to the point, is very funny and sora saying 'gonna cry?' to xigbar is great.) i cant comment any further than that about kh2 off the top of my head.

so, roxas acts like sora does when he's stressed, right? but why is roxas always acting like that? to which i say, he isnt!

he only ever acts like that when he's also in fucked up and stressful situations, which happens to be a CONSTANT in his life. but when he's hanging out with axel and xion, a decidedly NOT stressful situation, he's a lot more like sora. he's teasing his friends and insulting his coworkers and joking around and acting like a normal kid. not really important, but unless i misremembered some sora lines which is VERY possible, both roxas and sora respond to friendly insults with "oh thanks!" a lot. just a funny little detail that felt relevant.

the biggest differences between roxas and sora boil down to environment and... i dont know how to put it besides volume? roxas is very quiet and tends to keep most of his thoughts to himself, while sora is very loud and expressive in comparison.

there is one other huge difference i noticed, which is less character based and more story. sora wanted to get off destiny islands and explore with his friends, but roxas just wanted routine. sora wants adventure, and roxas wants things to stay the same, for days where he gets off work and eats ice cream with his friends to last forever, to keep having conversations about nothing and watching the sunset. roxas wants normalcy, sora wants excitement. it's just interesting seeing their contrast.

not sure if this is very well said or anything i just wanted to talk about my boys

[ulteri0rm0tives]

Now.. I'm not doubting Johnny somewhat (?) loved Alt in his own convoluted and severely misguided ways but uh.. to call them soulmates? Did we uh.. did we not play the same game? Watch the same scenes? Because it's crazy y'all r saying that when we literally play as his actual soulmate

[poofmalyakaet]

THANKYOU FATHER FIGURE 2

[mugmegan]

still drawing genderbent tokyo ghoul. I just got... distracted.

[deikshen]

svsss x spn au (hEAR ME OUT)

I didn't expect to start my day with these plot worms but, Binggeyuan who have temporarily moved to America after Bingge got into a fight with homophobes in public - eventually they get a nice house somewhere not too crowded near woods where Bingge can blow off steam like an overexcited puppy, and with enough proximity to civilisation that Shen Yuan is supplied with internet, food delivery and fandom nonsense.

And they meet the Winchesters.

YEA LOOK, MY SISTER WAS WATCHING SPN AGAIN, SO CAN WE UNDERSTAND HOW BIZARRE THAT WOULD BE?

I mean, put it into context - who knows, a freaky monster-demon around (probably attracted to Bingge's vibes?) which would make Bingge go out and investigate, normal cultivator job but now with military boots. And Shen Yuan, armed with a lantern, courage, and a nerdy desire to see monsters that exist in his own world, ends up investigating and running into the Winchesters. All I think about is that chaos. All I DIE for is that chaos.

- I mean, I could really elaborate on all of this, isn't it fun? God knows what season it happens in. Ironically. I think it would be before the S11 when everything was calm and less chaotic for the Winchester bros, but eh, I guess ??? I don't know where it would fit in, but I really think Sam and Dean would look Bingge up and down and say: "Fuck no, there's no way he is human."

Shen Yuan is just a neutral translator trying to figure out what the hell is going on around. YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD BE MORE BIZARRE? Shen Yuan having read the SPN novels Chuck wrote at some point in his life before going on his xianxia reading binge. Shen Yuan has some experience now with characters coming out of books, so he wouldn't see it as THAT ABNORMAL, but anyway, his levels of normality have been completely ruined by Bingge.

Could I elaborate on this? Yes. Give me a few hours.

[bunny-bun-draws]

so... anyone else watched the end of Kyo's Hetaoni gameplay?

all that info changed my view on this game. solved questions that little bunny inside me had for years. gave me an ending and plot that i could've only ever dream of.

hetaoni is one of the reasons i am in this fandom. i hold it so dear to me, and i am so shocked but happy at the same time for this information. i am so very thankful

and, now, i just hope you enjoy a guy lost in the void.

you were never meant to go home...

[basket-of-radiants]