#woof this is a lot!!!!

[squidpus]

Some notes about my "Gramps Madara" au if y'all were curious.

Okay maybe this turned more into a whole collection of headcanons... :⁠^⁠)

So this started as just a silly little au where Madara Uchiha is just a skrunkly old OLD man.

He's just living his ultimate retirement and...healing?? I guess is a way to put it. But also being a pain for poor Obito.

Also the Uchiha clan is definitely not murdered.

Things of note:

Izuna still dies, I feel it's an important cornerstone of Madara's character development.

He was infatuated (maybe a little obsessed) with Hashirama ever since they first met but he never acts upon it, feeling that Hashirama has higher priorities than him. Haha RIP king u deserved better.

Madara is still "killed" by Hashirama and remains in hiding after resurrecting. Zetsu is there too! I consider him like to be a really chill houseplant.

While Hashirama and Tobirama are still alive, he stays in his hideout for years. Still researching and developing jutsus with Hashirama's DNA that he stole.

He refuses to join the Uchiha elders, thinking himself much more important than them but also not wanting to waste time in "pointless meetings".

He returns to the village when the Third Hokage begins his term. The Uchiha clan welcome him back, the rest of the village is still uneasy about him but he is allowed to live within the Uchiha compound.

He takes in Obito after the death of Obito's parents. In this case, Obito is just a baby.

Madara later takes in Mikoto who, in this au, also loses her parents when she's around 10 years old.

Oh God I've domesticated him....but I think he feels pity for them. He's lost family and seeing these orphaned kids sparks something in him. It's impulsive but now he finds himself with two kids wow!

For the first time in a long time, he looks forward to what life has to bring. Mikoto is wildly intelligent and takes her training very seriously. Obito is a strange child (in Madara's opinion) but he finds him amusing. They are a ragtag little family but Madara is proud of it.

Obito is still nearly killed during his mission at Kannabi Bridge. Madara rescues him and rehabilitates him still making use of Zetsu and Hashirama's DNA.

Mikoto eventually marries Fugaku (Madara doesn't approve of that but he won't argue with Mikoto) and moves out of the household.

As Madara gets older, Obito is responsible for him which basically means keeping him out of trouble.

When Mikoto has Itachi and Sasuke, he is very happy! Sasuke is his favorite because he reminds him of a young Izuna.

Madara has various hobbies, he's tired of war. He still likes fighting but like... sparring (still trying to find that high from when he used to fight with Hashirama).

He takes up art, falconry, *cough* collecting eyes *cough* it's for research and preventing the sharingan from falling into the wrong hands.

But yeah I think that covers the basics!

[angelicgarnet]

the way people online talk about autism is getting really weird, like do they know that neurotypicals still have interests? that someone being passionate about a hobby doesn't mean they're autistic? you guys know that right

[starshapedspider]

surprise guest

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Ghouls night out

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[linusbenjamin]

If evil, why hot?

[darudedogestorm]

[roaminginmyownbirthcanal]

THATS BIG MAMA ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[woozification]

SVT x Mogu Mogu

[autisticaradiamegido]

day 231

doomed timeline

u ever think about how literally every single one of the thousands of aradias that traveled back to fight in the trolls' boss battle was from a doomed timeline where she had to a) watch all her friends die b) process that she was also doomed and c) then power through all that to do a bunch of time travel detective work so that she could advise the alpha iterations of her friends on how to avoid splitting into that doomed timeline in the first place? before traveling to a battle she knew she wouldn't make it out of?

yeah man

[thefloatingwriter]

the victors as complex characters will always be more interesting than making them amazing people.

like these are people who did absolutely everything in their power to survive something as traumatic as the games. most of them probably sleep with weapons in their hands. the thought on the forefront of most of their minds is survival. everything else—anyone else—can wait.

they sacrificed everything to crawl out of a killing game. their mental stability. their innocence. their childhood.

and after all of that, they realized that the games never really end. that they would sacrifice ever having a good night sleep without being plagued by nightmares. they would sacrifice their brains to help the capitol. they would sacrifice their bodies, something that should have always been their own, now snatched away from them. all for surviving a killing match that twenty-three children didn’t.

no victor is immune to this either. do you think cashmere doesn’t regret being so excited to go into the games after her brother after staying the night in a strange man’s bed that she doesn’t know? do you think gloss doesn’t regret not warning his sister about the horrors that await her after she wins? do you think brutus doesn’t sometimes wake up in a cold sweat after having yet another nightmare about being on the receiving end of his weapon, just as all of his victims were before everything faded to black? do you think enobaria doesn’t run her tongue over her sharpened teeth and wonder if it was worth it?

do you think beetee doesn’t flinch every time he sees lightning? do you think wiress doesn’t think of how if she hadn’t learned acrobatics that the 48th hunger games would have gone very differently? do you think finnick doesn’t see nets in the same way ever again, after he saw the girl from nine begging for her life tangled in a net he set up before he stabbed her with a trident? do you think annie doesn’t think about if she hadn’t spent all of that time on the beach growing up, playing in the water, that she wouldn’t have survived the dam breaking in her arena? do you think mags doesn’t think about how she left her district partner to die in the first ever traditional career pack? how if maybe, if she had been there to take the blow for him, there would be a different victor of the 11th hunger games?

do you think that blight doesn’t wonder what would have happened if the boy from two had looked up a little bit sooner, looked a little bit closer at the treetops above him, before the knife previously in blight’s hand found it’s way to the boy’s back? do you think that every time johanna picks up an axe, she doesn’t think about what if felt like to stab someone with it, what blood felt like when it splattered you? do you think she doesn’t wake up in a sweat, thinking the moisture on her skin is blood, that she’s back in the third quarter quell? do you think she doesn’t ever walk into her house in the victor’s village and think she sees a glimpse, a shadow, of her lost loved ones?

do you think that woof doesn’t use real knives anymore because every time he sees one, he remembers how it felt to stab blindly at the boy from seven? that even when he was seventy-five and the male tribute from eight for the third quarter quell, he couldn’t even look at the utensil and had to get cecelia to take it away from him? do you think cecelia can’t look at seashells anymore, that she could barely stand district four on her victory tour, because the girl from four was her last kill? that her necklace, a pretty one her sister made for her with a seashell strung through the string, was what cecelia used to choke the life out of her?

do you think that chaff doesn’t ever feel the phantom feeling of his hand? doesn’t ever touch the stump where it used to be and feel the phantom pain of it being sawed off like it was yesterday, even thirty years later? do you think that seeder doesn’t ever feel the hot sun of her arena on her body, doesn’t ever think she’s back, waiting for her death to come?

do you think that haymitch doesn’t start shaking every time a blowgun is provided at the cornucopia? do you think that he didn’t see the gold pin on katniss’ arena wear and have to sit down, remembering a very different girl with blonde hair and a quick witted humor with the same pin? do you think that peeta doesn’t hear foxface’s voice during her interview, over and over and over, until it’s so distorted he can’t even remember what she had actually said? that he doesn’t ever think of the girl from eight, a girl he might not have even known the name of?

do you think that, years down the line, katniss doesn’t realize the fate that waited for glimmer if she had won? do you think that she doesn’t wonder what would have happened if cato was a little quicker to get to the cornucopia to save clove? do you think she doesn’t wonder what the girl from four was like, what her name was, what her parents were like, what she was like? do you think that she doesn’t think about what would have happened if marvel was just a little bit quicker with his spear than her with her arrows, what would have happened if she was just a little bit slower to get to rue?

the what-ifs plague them. their games will never leave them. they will never escape their experiences. their lives will never be their own, if they ever were, ever again.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Does

Does Barnaby

Does Barnaby tell the others to get off his lawn when he's angry

psh, who do you think he is, an old man? he'd Bark, like any lively young dog

[sunnydayaoe]

art of an RP w/ @marinovels :]

[Please don't tag as ship X) ID in ALT]

[revasserium]

bodies between us

marius; 1,614 words; nsfw!!!, fem!reader, straight smut, mating press, cumming inside, "jiejie"

summary: marius... fucks.

he has never thought of bodies as expendable things — not in the least because it’s not how he was raised. but mostly because he knows that, for the most part, it’s how people expect him to think, and he’s always taken a vindictive pleasure in being contrary.

but here, like this, with you tucked beneath him, breathless and shaking, your fingers digging crescents into the muscle of his arms, your voice pitched and breaking as he slowly fucks into you — he thinks he can start to understand why people might ruin themselves to chase a high like this.

“f-fuck, jiejie… you’re s-so tight…”

you peer up at him through tear-soaked lashes, your bottom lip caught in your teeth as you whine to the rhythm of his hips, rocking into yours, the slick slap of skin on skin toe-curling in it’s indecency. marius groans, letting himself fall forward onto an elbow, leaning down to mouth at the smooth expanse of your neck, bared before him like an empty canvas. how he longs to paint your skin in bright blooming patches of blue and green and purple, rings like daisy-chains in the shape of his teeth.

“m-marius… please…”

he hisses out a breath at the plea in your voice, feels the coil in his stomach tighten as your cunt flutters around him, your walls clenching down, making his spine curve, his pace stutter. he gasps for a breath that he has long since poured into the warmth of your mouth, his lips searching for yours even as your head tips back in pleasure.

“so — so desperate, hm?” he says, teasing his tongue along the line of your collarbone, trailing down till he can mouth at your hardened nipples, relishing in the way you hiccup when he laves his tongue across one peak, his free hand coming up to tweak at the other, “so… sensitive…”

you grapple weakly at him, hiccupping as you feel him dragging along your walls, grazing the soft spot at the base of your belly, whimpering as he angles himself towards his, rolling his hips into yours to brush up against it again and again and again.

“marius — ah — hah… n-no f-fair —!”

he lets out a soft chuckle at your words, groaning unrestrained as he hoists you up higher over his hips, fucking into you even as you try to squirm away from him, the spit-fire tingles wreaking havoc on your body as his cock rams against your cervix making your vision go fuzzy round the edges. your hair is a haloed mess on his silken pillows and the way you pulse around him makes him want to scream.

“who said — anything — about — fair, hm?”

his teeth sink into the soft of your tits, your skin muffling his loud moan as he swirls the sensitive nipple in his mouth, teasing it till you’re tugging at his hair with desperate fingers, your body overwrought with pleasures and sensations. vaguely, you feel his fingers close around your throat and you’re happy to let your eyes flutter shut.

he thinks he’d never get tired of this, of seeing you splayed out beneath him, the perfect image of wreck and ruin, the remnants of his lust, his love, scattered along your body like sand dollars on an expanse of eggshell beach. he wonders if you’d ever use them as currency — if you’d let him spend it like bus-fare, to map out every single dot of your pleasure, connect them into constellations.

he wants to know the stories you could tell with the pictures he paints across your skin.

“n-ngh! yes!”

your voice strikes through him like lightning, twisting tight the coils of pleasure threatening to burst in his belly as he jerks against you, pulling him out of his thoughts as he reaches out to bend you clear in half, pressing your knees almost to your shoulders as he fucks down into you.

“t-tell me… am i… doing g-good?” he’s breathless with it, panting, no longer trying to hide the whine in his voice as he chases after your high and his.

he wants to hear you say it, knows that it’ll only take so much to push him over the edge.

“mm — fuck — marius — s-so, so good — !” you’re writhing beneath him, “ah — ah… i’m — ‘m gonna cum!”

“f-fuck baby — cum — c-cum on my cock — lemme feel you — f-feel you cum all over me — make me a m-mess jiejie please —”

marius lets himself go, doesn’t try to stop the filth that runs past his lips, gasps as he feels you clench down around him, your cunt milking him till he’s tipping over the edge as well, the both of you moaning as he presses a sloppy kiss to your lips, moaning thick and deep as you kiss him back just as hard, sucking his tongue into your mouth.

he licks heat into the space behind your teeth as you both shudder against each other.

you whine as you feel the heat of his cum spill into you, making you hiss as he twitches inside you.

grinning, he reaches down to run a lazy thumb along your swollen clit if only to feel you jerk and try to squirm away. he smirks, holding you still even as you struggle half-heartedly against his movements.

“m-marius — i-i can’t —” there are tears welling up along your bottom lashes and marius tuts at the sight.

“c’mon… just one more — i know you can do it —” he gently rocks his hips into yours, his semi-hard cock still dragging along your fluttering walls as you squeeze your eyes, still raw from you recent orgasm, the heat still so close it’d be so easy to toss you over just one more time.

“n-no… i — ‘s too much…” you try to shake your head but marius hums as he expertly flicks at your clit with his thumb, making your entire body arch up into him.

“such a liar, jiejie… see? you’re almost there… lemme see…”

“h-hngh… marius — marius —”

you tug weakly at his arms even as you feel the rush of heat and wetness, your abused pussy clamping down weakly over his softening cock as you shake through another orgasm. marius groans, leaning back to watch the sticky white of his cum leak out of you around where he’s still plugged into your thoroughly abused hole.

“mm… so pretty…” he grins, bright-eyed and cocky as he slowly pulls himself out of you, biting back another satisfied groan as he watches the way your hole squeeze around nothing.

“that was — that was mean…” you say, wincing slightly as you twist over to one side and reach for the wet wipes on the beside table. marius laughs, grabbing them for you and tugging one out to wipe you down.

“but you liked it, right?”

you blush, shooting him a half-hearted glare, your cheeks red with post-coital heat.

he takes his time cleaning you up before wiping himself off and collapsing into bed beside you.

you snuggle in close, pressing your forehead against his chest as he runs an idle hand through your hair.

“don’t ever leave me, okay?” he whispers, pressing kisses into the line of your hair.

you nod, hooking your ankle over his as you inch in closer.

“i wasn’t planning on it.”

marius wraps his arms around you, humming contentedly as he takes a deep breath.

“good…” and then, after a moment, “cause i don’t think i can stand the thought of anyone else making you scream like that.”

you swat at his chest, “marius!”

he laughs, keeping you held tight to him, “what? it’s true! i — i think i’d go crazy if you ever left me… knowing that someone else was with you like that…” and you can hear the pout in his voice without having to look up to see.

“i — i don’t think i’d want anyone else like… like that…” your words trail off into silence as fire creeps into your cheeks. they’re honest words, you know, but still, saying them out loud like that —

“good!” marius sounds like a pleased schoolboy as he snuggles you in closer, nearly suffocating you against his chest before you forcibly push him away for some breathing space.

and neither of you say much else, but you can feel it like an exhaled breath. you feel it in the softening of limbs like the gentle rise and fall of the tides. marius shifts around you, your bodies slotting against each other like the sea returning to a stretch of long-forgotten shore. and marius thinks, in the seconds before he drifts off into dreams, that there isn’t enough money in the world to spend on a moment like this.

that if his body were indeed and expendable thing, if by some strange twist of fate it became a single-use thing, he’d still choose to use it with you. because he thinks he’d still fall in love with you, and he’d still give his whole life to find himself here, just here, lying beside you, even if it were the last thing he could ever do.

next to him, you twist, turning towards him, already asleep.

and he thanks the gods that his body isn’t an expendable thing, that for the rest of his finite life, he gets to spend each infinite moment with you.

tot requests are open!

[candyheartedchy]

Meeting the parents.

[littlebabywille]

to watch young royals and still want wille to be king is such an interesting study on the royalist propaganda and the cognitive dissonance it takes to believe that any person is entitled to hold significant power and influence in society simply because of their birth. and that’s not even touching the impact it has on the protagonist that you root for. you’re completely ignoring the psychological, emotional, physical and social effects it has on him. abdicating and removing himself from that system is not because of love— love was the catalyst. the freedom that love brings and the way simon opened his eyes to the reality of the monarchy. his love for simon helped him question these traditions, institutions and systems of oppression. the biggest triumph to ME is that he didn’t abdicate for simon, he did it for himself.

being with simon is a reward for choosing himself.

[terminallytoreasnore]

oH NO, }:(