#you think you know what a room would look like & then you draw it and are like. fuck. what the hell. how does interior design work again

[yaut-jaknowit]

Heyo, i hope your doing alright and have a good day/night :)

I've just recently found your page and absolutely fell in love how you write and draw, please dont stop doing this :^).

Ive been thinking of mabye something like Body and culture exploration? Like lets say GN!reader just recently got with a yautja and they get comfortable enough to actually touch like their mandibles and stuff? Mabye even wanting to know more about their bio masks (like touching or mabye even putting it on) cause thats just something i would personally do. For the yautja could it Wolf? I love my elders hihi. Plus he has a missing tusk there too which i find badass

Thanks <3

(Pls dont mind the grammar, english is not my first language)

A Personal Look

Pairings: Wolf (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2004

Summary: In the home of Wolf on Yautja Prime, it's just the beginning of your relationship with Wolf. There is quite a lot to learn about him. Not just his mind but his body as well. You take a moment to learn your differences physically.

Author Note: It's all good! Thank you for the ask!

Masterlist

Ao3

Lounging in the main room of Wolf’s home on Yautja Prime, you occupied yourself with learning. Learning about Yautjas. Since said Yautja has given you a tablet to fill your time, you’ve scoured what they have for internet about them. They were mysterious and kept to themselves for the most part. Solidary creatures by nature but are willing to choose a mate. Clearly since you are here in Wolf’s home.

Admist your research, the universal wide web holds little about them. Just small articles and posts about either thoughts or lies they thought they knew about Yautjas. Some say they can read minds and teleport. Clearly those articles were thrown out. That only left you with one possible, reasonable source. Yet, even that offered little to quell your thoughts.

This was still in the beginning stage of your relationship with Wolf. The mighty Wolf. Each touch you’ve felt like you danced with fate and death. No, you don’t fear him. Instead… it was more of a respect. The first time meeting him nearly was your last. An inch closer and those blades would too sink into your skull.

Somehow, you still live.

There was something that lured you to him. The same for him. The nearing elder Yautja didn’t understand. Of course, he took matters into his own hands and asked for you to come along with him. The least he could do for almost killing you, you thought. Then, whatever that bait was enough for curiosity to spring life. Then, later… love.

It’s fresh love. Very fresh. Barely out of the womb and still soaked in fluids.

Both of you seemed to dance around each other. For a headstrong Yautja, he took a soft, almost timid approach. You would never say timid and him in the same sentence though. Wolf allowed for you to control this, as if he knew humans needed time to comprehend things. Maybe it was for himself as well. Not to rush into something so fragile.

A groan surpassed your lips. The tablet is discarded onto the nearby stone coffee table. How were you suppose to learn about them without directly asking the source? Wolf’s probably got plenty of information about humans already. Yet, all you got was females are larger than males and they breath more nitrogen then oxygen. Useless!

Up a few steps and on a balcony, sat Wolf enjoying the fresh morning air. An inquiring noise sounded from him. You sat up from the soft couch cushion and looked over at him.

Despite not knowing much about his species, you could see what would show him as an elder among his kind. The crow’s feet, the wrinkles among his face, the greying of his tresses, the way he carries himself. Don’t get you wrong, he is still a deadly warrior, through and through. But he’s lived his life. Now he enjoys relaxing and bathing in the suns of his planet. Though he is old, he’s most likely going to out live you still.

“It’s nothing,” you dismissed, not wanting to lead him onto your plans just yet. You wanted to be prepared before going into this. How were you going to accomplish that when said information wasn’t available to you? God, you wanted to throw yourself out a window.

You drape yourself partially over the back of the couch and watch from afar. Wolf lounged in peace. Eyes softly closed; chest softly rising and falling with each breath he took.

Something within you wanted to gingerly glide your knuckles along his cheek. To fully feel his skin against yours. Properly. Not these fluttering touches the two of you give in passing. A growing need to learn about him physically then move onto mentally. You wanted to know him.

“You watch,” he observed without even opening an eye. Immediately, you flustered and bowed your head, slinking back down the couch. “I was not telling you to stop.” You perked up a little and peered over the edge of the couch to find him in the same spot. “I will not bite.” Was he inviting you closer?

The lump in your throat was forced down before you slipped off of the couch and timidly stepped closer to him. Curiosity may have killed the cat but satisfaction will bring you back.

Nervously, you took each step towards in hesitation. Not of fear. Well… maybe of fear but not of him. Maybe it was the situation. Stepping into the unknown. That’s hit the nail right on the head. There was nothing to know beforehand. So all of this was new.

Sooner than you come to realize, you stand just on the edge of coverage from the harsh twin suns. Wolf blinks his bright yellow eyes open then sits up in a smooth, controlled manner. Quite the opposite of your racing heart threatening to beat straight out of your chest. He looks at you from underneath the beating suns, arms resting on his knees. A poised position of ease. You bite at your lower lip.

“You want something.” It was a statement. Your head raised only a centimeter but he watches the movement. “You are free to speak.” He’s given you all the rope possible. Every last inch of it to control the situation. “You are free to ask.”

Despite your fingers twitching towards him, you tampered down that feeling. Permission. That requires words. Words that are lodged in your throat, stuck in way that you didn’t know how to free yourself. You wanted to touch, to explore what he feels like. To learn about him in a way that you’ve never experienced ever.

Those bright eyes. The first thing saw when he brought those blades down. They pierced straight into your soul directly. They also noticed the twitching of your fingers. You noticed the twitching of his fingers. The two of you were frozen in time. Just watching. Just waiting.

Wolf gave the briefest of nods.

Then, you moved. You found your spot between his legs. The heat from the sun and him causing your core temperature to rise immediately. Though, he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, he presses a button on his lounge chair.

The awning above extended fully, covering you from gathering blisters. Yet, that didn’t stop you from feeling the heat the radiated off of him. The lump in your throat returned. Instead of letting your words speak for you, actions spoke louder.

He watched as you gingerly lifted up a hand in his direction then paused, holding the hand nearly a foot away from him. Wolf takes a moment then dips his head again. Permission granted. The unease that had settled in your chest lifted a little, giving way to hope. The corners of your mouth twitched, just enough to show off the twinkle in your eye.

When the pads of your fingers brushed against the scales of his upper mandible, you couldn’t help the small gasp. For a rugged, hardened warrior, the flesh there was smooth, nearly velvety in a strange way. Like touching a gecko. It was the last thing you were expecting from him. You couldn’t help the giggle that left your lips. Once more, you flustered and retracted you hand out of embarrassment.

Instead of letting the moment fall away, Wolf raises his own hand and waits for permission. When given it, the rough texture of his palm cups your cheek. That was more of what you were expecting. But, you didn’t retreat. You leaned into the touch and let your eyes hooded over, gazing at him with… love. Because that’s what this was, wasn’t it?

Though, the callouses were rough against your skin, you didn’t mind it. You were learning. Learning what he felt like. What a life of a hunter felt like against a human. He slowly let that hand drift down and teased the collar of your shirt then up the column of your throat. Not intimate in a sexual way… but exploring.

You helped by tilting your head back and allowed him to feel the way your throat bobbed; the fluttering of your pulse between layers of skin. Skin that was drastically different than his. His pointer and thumb pinched your jaw softly and brought you face to face with him again. You brought your hand back to his face, inches from touching him. Another nod.

Feeling the smooth flesh again wasn’t as shocking as before. But you still couldn’t help the glimmer of a smile on your lips. The softness of it with folds and wrinkles that marked his age. Years. Hundreds of them. You trailed down his mandible, feeling it twitch under you touch. Yet, you stayed clear of the scars that marred the other side of his face, afraid of upsetting him or passing over a boundary.

Wolf was smart. He could sense things before you could, sense a disturbance, even in you. So, the elder took things into his own hands. Literally. With his free hand, he wrapped them around your other wrist and brought the tips of your fingers to the gnarled skin. Your eyes jumped wide, breath caught in your throat at the touch. This felt like a true velvet than just the scales of his mandibles. Your other hand dropped to his shoulder as you focused on the scars.

Your eyes darted to his for a moment but the elder was focused on the feel of your skin. So, you took that opportunity to press onward by following up what was left of his mandible.

The scar was messy. It spider webbed across nearly half of his face and head. A painful experience you have no doubt about. A story for another time.

Though the healed wound was clutter of stretched and sinewed skin, you were memorized by the texture and patterned. You closed your eyes and let your fingers guide the way.

Inside of your mind, you forged his physical form into memory. A different way of experiencing him. You used your other hand as well to map him out. All the different dips along the dome of his head. The ridges and bumps of his features. The scales that were scattered around. Then, you slowly blinked your eyes open and smiled at him.

His own fingers found the curve of your nose. Starting from between your brows and following down the ridge, letting the lethal black claw ghost over fragile skin. The sight of it made your heart jump but he wouldn’t hurt you.

Not with the way he was looking at you.

Like he was discovering the joys of life for the first time. And maybe he was.

That same finger lingered on the tip of your nose for a moment before sliding down to the plushness of your lips. Subconsciously, you let them part. The sharp end of a claw dragged down your bottom lip, almost catching on the skin. You made no move to warn or stop him. Not even fearful he may hurt you. He stops for a moment when the tip was at the juncture of your bottom lip before continuing.

He went back up and diverted to the side. To your ear. If he thought your face was soft, when he touched your ear there was a stark difference. Wolf lightly pinched the cartilage with wonder flashing in his eyes. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped from you. To see the big bad Wolf amazed by something natural to you is amusing.

Then, up to your hair his fingers went, carding through the strands much thinner than his own. He pinched a bunch together and rolled it. The snort you made drew his attention back to your eyes. Wolf, too, dropped his hands to your shoulders in a similar fashion to you.

There. All you two did was stare at each other, admire the other’s differences. Not bad differences. Just… different. Alien if you must put a name to it. That was the beauty of it all.

Exploring each other.

[macabr3-barbi3]

Hex: Smile Like You Mean It

helloooooo again everyone! A HUGE thank you to the beloved @darling-dovey for this request from the International Women's Day event- your support means the world to me, and I hope you enjoy this second part! ᶦᵗ ᵐᶦᵍʰᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵃˡʳᵉᵃᵈʸ ᶦⁿˢᵖᶦʳᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ³ ˡᵒˡ

Tags: mentions of murder, blood and gore typical of the game; the tentacles are Involved™️this time; vaginal sex; Eldritch Alastor; monsterfucking basically LOL; belly bulge; overstimulation; hint of softness 👀

You can find part one of Hex here, and if you are also a fan of the idea of Hazbin x Dead By Daylight you can check out the Hooked on Hazbin masterlist from last Halloween!

You can’t be in the police department now without thinking of him. Sneaking through the hallways trying to avoid the killer of the hour, you always seem to freeze like a deer in headlights in the room where Alastor had laid you across the desk. It had gotten you a knife or an axe in the back more than once, but you couldn’t help the way the memories came rushing back; the static of Alastor’s voice in your ears, his clawed fingers digging into your hips, the pleasurable tension in your body as you rocked in his lap. 

It was something to cling to in the everlasting darkness that was your existence. The rest of the killers were more of the same as usual- running, hiding, repairing, dying on an endless loop like a hamster on a wheel. Between trials, in the blissful quiet of the clearing with the campfire before you, you could close your eyes and think of Alastor, look forward to the next time the Entity granted you a moment alone.

She hadn’t yet. You had seen him in trials since that day, but he didn’t treat you any differently; he still chased and slashed you and the others, sacrificing the men at every opportunity, letting the women just barely escape with their lives. You kept your promise and said nothing to the others about his tendency to spare, making sure to keep up the act of being terrified despite knowing that you would always be returned to the fire. You even told a little lie when Jane floated the idea of Alastor taking it easy on the women, finally observant as you had been. You denied it, told them that it wasn’t possible that he always let the women go, because he had sacrificed you before. Ever with a flair for the dramatic, you exaggerated a tale of a trial that you had been the last one out of, descriptive in your retelling of how Alastor’s blade had torn you apart, the pain blinding and deep before it had blissfully ended.

What had really happened was he had slashed at you and hit home, and you hadn’t mended yourself in time to stop from bleeding out after the rest of your team had been sacrificed. But they didn’t need to know that.

Thankfully, he was generous enough with non-lethal blows that the rest of the ladies agreed that he couldn’t possibly be showing them mercy, and the matter was dropped. Lying didn’t sit right with you, but it was unavoidable in order to keep up your end of the deal that you had made- a small price to pay for the promise of a bit of pleasure amongst the horrors. 

With the trials you had been having lately, you hoped that your next private encounter with Alastor would be soon. There was something strange in the air amongst the killers- one by one they were somehow getting stronger, faster. More lethal and terrifying than they had ever been before, sporting extra limbs, sharper weapons, larger forms. Like the Entity was giving them more power somehow, drawing from the fog, from the fear of the survivors to make everything that much worse. You had died in your last eight trials; on hook, speared by the entity when you couldn’t find the hatch in time, a particularly gruesome encounter with the Dredge that had haunted what little sleep you managed to find time for. You hadn’t heard anything from the others about Alastor getting any stronger, but you knew it was just a matter of time before the privilege was extended to him as well.

The world is too quiet when you arrive in the Red Forest, the crack of a tree branch behind you alerting you to Bill’s presence. He offers you a quick salute before he’s off, the quiet sounds of a generator following his departure. The temple looms before you, huge and ominous as the rain strikes it in a steady rhythm, and you allow yourself the briefest moment of rest before you turn and head in the opposite direction that you had seen Bill go.

You spot Jonah, his larger frame poorly concealed behind a log as he sneaks closer to the Killer Shack to work on the generator there, and stumble upon Jake cracking a chest open close to one of the exit gates. He gives you a little wave as you continue on, not quite sure what you’re looking for yet- some sign of a Hex totem maybe, or an item that would tell you who the killer for the trial was.

But there were no axes or knives in the lockers to indicate the Huntress or Trickster; no creepy little puppets sitting around to give the Pig away; no weird cases that begat flame turrets for the Xenomorph or strange holes in the ground for the Demogorgon. That didn’t take away the possibility of one of the stealthier killers like Ghost Face or the Shape, and you found yourself looking over your shoulder as you got closer and closer to the temple.

The sound of the rain fades as you come slowly down the steps, still nervous at the lack of any sign of the killer but thankful for the peace. You hear a generator pop in the distance, followed by an explosion as one of your teammates fumbles their own wires in response, and only then do you hear the faintest hint of jazz echoing from the catacombs below.

Alastor.

The music gets louder quickly, and you fight your initial instinct to hide as he appears at the top of the stairs, looking just as surprised to see you as you were seeing him. “Well! What a coincidence, seeing you here,” he says, that smile of his growing wider as he approaches. “Shouldn’t you be off doing a generator?”

“I am,” you defend, even though you had been doing no such thing. “I was- going for the one in the catacombs. I didn’t know it was you.”

“Hmm, I see. I suppose while I have you I may as well gather some intelligence. Tell me, what teammates have joined you in this lovely realm?”

You glance through the nearest archway, ensuring that no one would see you casually conversing with the Radio Demon. Casually betraying your friends. “Jonah,” you say anyway. “And… Jake and Bill.” And when his eyes light up you realize belatedly that you’re the only female in the group- you’d been so distracted by the quiet, the false peace of the realm that you hadn’t thought about it. Once the guys were gone you would be left alone with him, and the potential of a repeat performance of the last time you had been together like that makes your face flush. “I won’t tell you where they are,” you add, more for your own benefit than anything else; it makes it feel less like stabbing them yourself, knowing that he would come after them, sacrifice them to the Entity while you would get off scot free and possibly with an orgasm as well if the timing was right.

“How convenient- I confess I’ve been thinking it was high time that the Entity allowed us another moment together.” He steps closer to you, a clawed finger under your chin and tipping your face up to look at him- his gaze is heated, dragging his eyes down your trembling frame. “Perhaps we take advantage of the imminent solitude.”

You pull back, taking a couple of steps and looking frantically around for anyone that might be looking into the temple. He laughs in amusement, pulling you back in with an arm around your waist so that you fall into his chest. Another generator pops, this one a bit closer- probably the one Bill was working on by himself- and Alastor sighs heavily. “I assure you, no one will see us,” he murmurs, leaning down to breathe the words into your ear. “Your little friends are busy- my shadow has assured me. I suppose I should give our Master what she wants, so she doesn’t deny us what we want.”

He licks a stripe up the side of your throat, and it takes everything in you not to moan at the sensation- that alone was worth the horrible trials lately, the knowledge of letting your friends die so you could have more. A whimper still escapes you, once that makes him huff out a laugh when he finally pulls away and releases you. “Go on and do your generator,” he advises with a condescending pat on the head, “just in case someone evades me for a while. But I expect to find you waiting for me right there when I’ve sacrificed your team.” He points to the steps that lead up and out of the temple, and you nod in agreement before he simply melts into the shadows.

You take a deep breath before descending, hoping that none of the men came this way until you had calmed your racing heart and got your heated face under control. Your hands are shaky when you find the generator and start fiddling with the wires, managing to avoid making them blow up in your face. You hear one more generator go off moments before your own does, and you know that Alastor is giving your teammates a run for their money through the forest. You wonder if he’s been given the special treatment that so many of the others had, if his claws are sharper, his blade more deadly as he hunted them down. He was already so strong; any kind of addition to that and the survivors wouldn’t stand a chance against him.

Already, you think it’s strange that you haven’t hear the telltale sound of someone being sacrificed- Alastor had been gone for a while, and he typically made fast work of his sacrifices. He was calculated and efficient in a way that many of the killers were not, and you find yourself curious about what was taking him so long. Surely the guys wouldn’t have been able to run him for so long, not with his long limbed reach and ability to travel through shadow. You make your way slowly back upstairs a few minutes after finishing your generator, wondering what was taking so long that Alastor wouldn’t have sacrificed at least one of them.

Your question is at least partially answered when you arrive on the main level to find Alastor waiting for you- casually leaned against the gilded archway and covered in blood, inspecting his fingernails as they drip, drip, dripped crimson to the stone floor. He looks up when he hears your breath stutter, and his smile is dangerous when he aims it at you. “I don’t like to be kept waiting, you know,” he says conversationally. “Our time together is limited as it is- we wouldn’t want to waste it.”

He starts stripping his suit jacket off, and the baring of his forearms makes you lose your train of thought for a moment before you remember yourself. “I was- waiting for the sound,” you explain, watching him fold the jacket and set it carefully on the ground near him. “You know, when someone gets sacrificed. I didn’t hear it- I didn’t want to risk someone finding me while I was waiting for you and getting suspicious.”

Canned laughter emits from his chest, like something you would hear on an old TV show. “What little faith you have in me,” he laughs, and beckons you closer. He smells like blood as you approach, like rain and foliage and gunpowder as he guides you gently to your knees in the middle of the archway, cushioned slightly by his jacket. “I’ve been bringing a special offering into the trials with me- to show the Entity the brutality that I’m still capable of, even with allowing me to spare some. You would not have been alerted of their deaths but rest assured- we’re quite alone.”

He had entered with a Mori, then. A rare commodity among killers, the survivors were intimately familiar with the item that allowed them to be slaughtered without the need for sacrifice. You’d never seen Alastor’s Mori, but judging from people’s lack of willingness to talk about it, it couldn’t have been a quick and easy death for your teammates.

He drapes himself over your back, and your heart beats nearly in your throat as he runs his hands over your body, fingers settling over your throat and coaxing your head backwards to rest on his shoulder. His erection is heavy against your ass, hot even through the layers of clothing soaked in blood. His free hand slides up under your dress and shoves your panties down around your thighs before gathering the extra fabric in his fist- he releases your neck to work at his own belt, and the frantic energy of his movements makes heat pool low in your stomach, a soft whimper escaping you when you feel the bare flesh of his cock rest against you.

Alastor reaches forward, slipping his fingers delicately between your legs to find you wet and ready, starting right off with two fingers that stretch you wonderfully. “So responsive,” he says quietly, his voice echoing in the hollow chamber of the temple. “So eager for me. We’ll feed Her well today, won’t we?” You nod frantically from your position on his shoulder, and he thrusts his fingers harder inside you, striking the sweet spot inside you with unerring accuracy that makes your eyes roll. “Won’t we?” He repeats with an emphasis, and you’re barely aware of the words that come out in response- only that it must appease him, since he adds another finger and grins against your shoulder.

The motion of his hand as he fingers you provides delicious pressure against your clit, and you’re already teetering on the edge when he releases his hold on your dress to grip your hip, tilting you forward enough that he can withdraw his fingers and press the tip of his cock into you, a slow and steady drag that makes your voice warble when you cry out for him. He bends you over, both hands now holding you firmly to his body while he fucks you, the sound of slapping skin audible even over his harsh panting in your ear. He’s almost mindless with it, heavy, even thrusts that force unrestrained sounds from between your lips. Your first orgasm is a smooth, easy thing when he returns to your clit, flicking his talented fingers until you’re barreling headfirst into shuddering pleasure.

Alastor stops suddenly as you come down, one of his ears flicking against your cheeks as he tilts his head as though listening for something. You take a much needed gulp of air, swallowing hard to moisten your throat, dry from noises that had been being pulled from you. He doesn’t move- doesn’t breathe, his chest still against your back. “A- Alastor?” You venture quietly, and he still doesn’t move, hips stalled with his cock firmly inside you- you can hear the faint drip of your release hitting the stone floor and your face flushes in embarrassment. “Are you- is everything alright?”

Another beat of silence before he finally says, “yes, darling- everything is fine,” and drags slowly back from the heat of your cunt, bucking forward with force again. His rhythm resumes a little slower, the slide of hot skin making your arousal burn as he continues.

He moans behind you, loud and shocking in its volume, and before you can try to look over your shoulder at him he’s fucking you faster, clutching you to his body with an arm across your chest like some sort of lifeline- his other hand returns to its place loosely held around your throat. “Thank you, thank you,” he’s muttering into your skin, and you don’t get a chance to ask what, exactly, he’s thanking you for.

You almost think you’re imagining it at first; that his cock is reaching further because of the slight change in angle when he had wrapped his arms securely around your body. But then you feel the ache,  your cunt stretching to accommodate a larger size as he grows inside of you- thicker, longer, deeper than he had ever been before, and you choke on air when he shifts again and bucks his hips.

“Oh my God.” At the sound of your voice he growls, a low, dangerous sound that surrounds you, and drags his hips back to fuck into you again. “Oh my God-”

You’re impaled on his cock, your inner walls fluttering uselessly at the thought. He’s so fucking thick, the angle making everything that much more intense as he holds you to his chest and simply pounds up into you, and with hardly a touch to your clit from your own hand you’re coming again, the slide now frictionless with a second orgasm as Alastor continues to fuck you through it.

Your body is trembling and tense, blood pounding in your ears as he fills you so completely that you can hardly think. You catch a glimpse of a reflection in the gold of the archway, and what you see steals the air from your lungs.

Alastor was huge- not just his cock but his entire body having grown, the seams of his suit splitting in an effort to try and accommodate the transformation. His antlers were huge and jagged, black bolts of lighting that stretched wide enough to catch on the archway as his hips rock back and forth. He looks like an animal- no longer the dangerous gentleman that you had made your deal with, but something feral and unhinged, easily capable of tearing you apart with the vulnerable position you were in, speared and helpless on his relentless erection with a hand around your delicate throat. 

He hadn’t been thanking you, you realized. He was thanking the Entity- for releasing some of his power, giving him back strength that he had apparently been missing this whole time. This was the true Radio Demon, terrifying and larger than life and easily capable of killing you.

What the fuck was wrong with you, that made you clench down even harder on his length?

He snarls at the feeling, a particularly hard thrust following that has you choking on a moan. You hear a noise, like snakes slithering across the floor, and then there’s a smooth, tapered something pressing hard against your clit- his tentacles, you realize, making a return appearance to further reduce you to putty in his hands. More join the first, swirling and swiping, one even slipping past your drenched folds to wriggle into your cunt beside Alastor’s cock and rub furiously at the spongy spot of nerves deep inside you.

It felt impossible, but you could feel the crest of pleasure rising in you again. It felt deeper, more intense, the pit of your stomach clenching and releasing before every fucking muscle in your body seizes, your cunt trying to squeeze down as well as it could and a desperate scream escaping you and echoing through the chamber.

A rush of fluid squirts from where you’re connected, an embarrassing flood that drenches the floor below you, that you can hear squelching messily while Alastor and his tentacles continue to fuck you with single minded determination. He showed no signs of stopping, his pace still fast and hard and furious as he grunted in your ear, unfamiliar noises filling the air and strange symbols dancing before your eyes that you had no hope of deciphering.

“A- A- Alastor,” you finally manage to get out as you’re bounced in his lap, his tentacles still squirming against your over-sensitive clit and sending bolts of ecstasy through you so sharp they almost hurt. “Please, please, I can’t keep-”

"Y̵̷̛̤͍̅́̕ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚û̶͙̽̿͆̈ ẅ̷̷̢̟͇͈̒i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟ḻ̸͈ͧ͑̓̓̀͡ḻ̸͈ͧ͑̓̓̀͡," he demands, his voice booming and contorted with static and screeching, the stuff of nightmares and other trials. He hasn’t spoken since his frantic muttering into your shoulder and now it seems that he can’t stop, his normal voice flickering in and out like a poorly tuned radio. “You’ll take it- t̴͕͖͓̀ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞k̶̸͙̭̹͆͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ m̶̷͔ͪ̽͡ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊, feel me…” The hand around your throat releases and slides down your body, his hand huge and dangerous as his fingers dance across bare skin to press low on your abdomen. And you can feel it even before your head drops forward to see it, a hand darting out to support yourself on the arch so you can look down-

The bulge is visible, so full of Alastor that you can see the push and pull of his cock while he fucks into you, the pressure as he presses down from the outside almost unbearably pleasant. “I can’t, I can’t,” you sob, letting your head drop back against his shoulder again while he continues to keep steady force against the distension, the added pleasure sharp and aching. “Please, Alastor-” Your voice breaks on a whine, reaching back to fist your hand into his clothing as some sort of desperate anchor to keep you grounded as your words fail.

Alastor’s breath is hot against your neck, and you feel the terrifying prick of razor sharp teeth against your skin for a dizzying moment. “Y̵̷̛̤͍̅́̕ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚û̶͙̽̿͆̈'ḻ̸͈ͧ͑̓̓̀͡ḻ̸͈ͧ͑̓̓̀͡ t̴͕͖͓̀ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞k̶̸͙̭̹͆͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ẅ̷̷̢̟͇͈̒h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞t̴͕͖͓̀ I̶̴̗̗̦͍ͨͭ̉͢͟ g̴̶̛̮̣͙͠i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ y̯̤͑́́̓́ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚û̶͙̽̿͆̈,” he growls, his voice still corrupted and dark. “You can take it- so strong, so perfect, but I will r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟û̶͙̽̿͆̈i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘ y̯̤͑́́̓́ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚û̶͙̽̿͆̈.” His hand rubs, pressure firm and unyielding against your abdomen where his cock stretches you impossibly from the inside, his other arm holding you even tighter to him while his hips piston at breakneck speed, so sudden and hard that it makes your head spin. 

Agonizing ecstasy licks like lines of fire from your core and down your limbs, another orgasm rushing at you like a bull and you’re helpless to stop it, fingers scrabbling uselessly against his suit when it hits. The rest of the world fades away except your points of connection; Alastor’s harsh grunting in your ear, the rippling clench of your cunt around him, the pinpricks of pain where his claws dig into your tender flesh. You’re faintly aware of an eldritch roar that may or may not be some semblance of your name before you’re somehow even fuller, his release hot and messy inside as he continues to rock his hips, stuffed completely with his cock and tentacles and come. Everything within you pulses with light and pleasure, still just as sharp as it was sweet, and finally you go limp in his hold, eyes fluttering shut to enjoy your short moment of reprieve.

When they open again, you seem to have lost minutes- Alastor is hunched over you, returned to his normal size and breathing heavily against your shoulder. The insane pressure of his cock has eased, no longer inside you, and the palm he has pressed against your stomach no longer meets any resistance; instead, he’s rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

“You are stronger than you give yourself credit for, my dear,” Alastor murmurs suddenly, his lips teasing the shell of your ear. “She only picks those that she feels will serve her well, feed her well as we’ve done today. If she didn’t think you could persevere, you wouldn���t be here. I never,” he adds, low and hot in your ear, “want to hear you say ‘I can’t’ again.”

 “Think about that before you go all scary monster inside me next time,” you retort breathlessly, even as your stomach flips with arousal at his tone. “You should warn a person before you grow big enough to step on them.”

He huffs a breath against you, his nose trailing intimately down the column of your throat. “I do apologize. The change was… rather sudden. I did not expect her to release so much of my normal power at once, I fear it went to my head.”

Normal power. Meaning that this wasn’t a buff for him like the other killers were receiving- the Entity had been holding him back this entire time, and only now saw fit to allow him to regain his strength. The thought was as terrifying as it was electrifying, and you feel a pang of sympathy for your fellow survivors, the men that would meet their end beneath his hulking frame, the women that would be horrified at the sight of him without the knowledge that they were safe. 

You clear your throat, your mouth suddenly dry. “Give me a heads up next time,” you tell him, turning slightly to the side- you can see the curve of his smile in your peripherals, the curtain of his fringe over his face. “I might need to try to do a little preparing before I can take that again, so-”

“Watch yourself, darling,” he growls, his grip flexing menacingly where he still holds you to him. “Unless you would like a repeat already.” But he laughs and releases you with a chuckle when you stammer in response, allowing your dress to finally fall to your knees again as he rises and offers you a hand up from the ground. Your face flames when you catch a glimpse of the mess of fluids that cover the floor between and around the archway- something that has you feeling extremely lucky that the Entity resets the realms between trials, so the Plague would never know the kind of sacrilegious depravity that had occurred in her sacred temple.

Alastor has straightened his remaining clothing, glancing down at his suit jacket with a shrug. “I suppose I can remain dressed down for the time being,” he laments, and offers his arm up to you as a shadow darts across the floor, pooling at the demon’s feet before rising from the ground, almost solid, and tugging at the ankles of Alastor’s slacks. “It appears my little friend has found your exit. Shall we?”

He guides you up out of the temple, the rain that you had forgotten about blessedly cool against your skin as you trek through the forest. Every so often the shadow backtracks to pull at Alastor, even sometimes wrapping a strangely corporeal clawed hand around your leg if it thought you weren’t moving fast enough. Unlike last time, the realm wasn’t collapsing around you- you had a good couple of minutes to simply walk with Alastor on shaky legs, enjoying the sounds of nature without having to worry about a generator going off, needing to heal your teammates, racing to vault away from a killer. It was… nice. Peaceful, even, despite the occasional hissing of the seemingly sentient creature that snaked between branches and rocks below the pair of you.

You heard the hatch as you got closer, and you were almost reluctant to leave. Alastor seems to sense it, turning you to face him once the hatch was in view and plucking a stray twig from your hair as you look up at him. “Don’t make such a face,” he admonishes. “She’ll allow us another moment soon, I’m sure.” He bends low and you let your eyes close, breath held in anticipation- “Go on then,” he urges, and when you open your eyes Alastor has stepped away from you, his shadow beckoning you closer to the hatch. “Until we meet again, my dear.”

He turns on his heel before you’ve even moved, walking slowly back the way you had come and taking the jazzy background music you had had the whole time with him. As he faded from view you were left with just the quiet sounds of nature and the droning hum of the hatch, Alastor’s shadow watching you with a tilted head as you approach.

It props its head up on a shadowy arm and narrows its eyes while you sit at the edge of the opening, knowing that there’s no point in looking down- it was always just a void, dark and endless until it wasn’t and you found yourself back at the campfire. You can still feel your legs even if you can’t seem them as they dangle over the edge, and you sigh heavily and give the shadow a little wave as you brace yourself to push off, ready for the newest round of interrogation when you arrive late from your trial. You didn’t want to go, letting your eyes drift closed again, tilting your head back so you could feel the cooling rain on your face. Even without Alastor and what had happened, this was the most content you had felt in ages- sexually sated, not scared for your life or physically exhausted from endless running. This was the closest you had felt to home since you’d come to the Entity’s realm.

There’s a shift in the air, something that catches your attention before you can fully commit to dropping through the hole- Alastor’s shadow had crept closer while your eyes were closed, and a cool touch to your cheek had startled you out of your reverie. It wasn’t quite like skin, almost like silk as it caressed your jaw, turned you to face it. The same way you had expected Alastor to, it drew you in for a pantomime of a kiss; it was cold against the delicate skin of your lips, tangible in a way that a shadow shouldn’t be but very much there in Alastor’s absence. It was almost what you needed, what you had missed this time in the overwhelming experience in the temple. You reach up, forgetting where you are, what is pressed your mouth as you try to deepen the kiss, leaning in-

And promptly falling into the abyss as you slide through the shadow’s body, looking up just in time to see the shadow silently laughing before the hatch slammed closed above you.

[thevoidscreams]

Oh man, for the the Mating Press March I will take anything ft. Fulgrim but make it feral and rough. He always looks so pristine and perfect that I need to see a more unhinged side of him that doesn't have to do with Chaos Shenanigans <33

I usually think about Fulgrim as kinda subby but I will allow him to top for this.

Fulgrim gets some ideas from a social gathering and really wants to try them on his wife.

Day 19 Year 2:

Warnings: (Fulgrim), getting woken up with sex, use of pet names iguess

Word count:2271

He may have been one of the only true socialites out of his siblings, he just adored being lavished with attention. But he felt so not enthused at the moment. Bored he might even dare say. And boredom was not something that suited the primarch of the third. The auction was fine, you'd sat in his lap from a private viewing room, away from prying eyes where you could tell him the pieces that you liked and he would have them bid on. He'd had you dressed to the nines, looking every bit as elegant as the wife of a man like him ought to.

It was a struggle to keep his eyes up long enough to actually view the pieces you were talking about. His lips quested over warm skin, your perfume filled his senses and he'd practically torn the dress he'd had made custom for you. The auction after party had been the real draw for most of the attendees, people from all over the sector talked about the artists after parties. And really he could see why, they were something of beauty, but it wasn't what he wanted. The art had been acquired, and you, he groaned almost sub audibly. You had gone back to the ship after only an hour. You told him he was welcome to stay but you were tired and wanted to make sure the pieces for your private gallery got back safe. He understood, but his fingers itched to touch, and you were not there. His sons stayed close at hand, making small talk upon their father's insistence. "Go, my sons, it is a party, speak to the good people. I'm sure you'll have plenty to talk about at a gathering of artists."

Fulgrim took a fresh glass of sparkling wine and sipped it. The glass was comically small in his hands.

But he drank nonetheless. The vintage was quite fine, he should get a bottle to bring back to you.

As he looked for the host, a rather well to do and talented enough artist, he heard the giggle of two women gossiping. Normally Fulgrim paid little heed to the gossiping of strangers, unless it was about him or his family. But he stopped as if to enjoy a piece hanging over a fireplace. A scene of snow and trees splayed out over the canvas, it was nice enough. His attention was on the women and their giggles.

"You know I never thought I'd be into it. It's just so.. barbaric in nature but I'm glad I did because I haven't been this attracted to my husband in years."

"Oh, Marci, you mustn't say that." The other woman chided through laughter.

"Of but it's true, he was so.. mm how do I put this.. feral. The way he pounced on me and ravaged me. I felt like I was twenty again, and in college with all those men who would beg me back to their rooms only to do.. well, I shouldn't say. But when Arno came back it was so late I was asleep."

The other woman gasped. "He didn't!" "He DID!"

It was apparent to Fulgrim that this woman was inebriated, but his interest was piqued. "When I awoke I was so startled I nearly cried out until I realized it was him. Then he took me so ferociously, I was sure the neighbors could hear me screaming his name for a kilometer."

The two women hooted their snobbish sort of laugh again. "I'll tell you, I think every man should do that for his wife at least once."

The words made Fulgrim think, his pants growing uncomfortably tight as he imagined you beneath him, begging and moaning as he took his pleasure from you.

"Eidolon." Fulgrim said, not needing to shout over the crowd for his son to hear. "Yes, my Lord?" Eidolon appeared at his side. "Round up the others, we'll be returning to the Pride of the Emperor now."

He bowed slightly and went to fetch his gene brothers.

Fulgrim was half tempted to go to the women and thank them for the ideas, but he stayed his tongue, giving the host his best as he went.

As they departed Fulgrim spied a bottle of that fine wine you hadn't gotten to taste and plucked the bottle from the container of ice keeping it cool. It was for his love after all, you only deserve the best.

When you'd returned you'd had the pieces brought to your private gallery where you kept your own pieces and the one's Fulgrim acquired for you.

You liked the one of a beautiful silver phoenix, its wings spread wide over a mountain top as it looked towards the heavens. You all but bounded off Fulgrim's lap when you saw it, begging him to get it for you with much more fervor than the other pieces. He had, outbidding the others by a fair amount.

You thought about where to hang it before stopping at a piece in front of the lounge where you and Fulgrim often sat drinking wines and just talking for hours. Your heart fluttered at the thought of his smile. Your own painting didn't seem as impressive as the phoenix. You sighed and took it down, setting the new painting in its place. There that looks good, you thought, setting your own aside.

You'd ask him what he thought in the morning, given he'd likely be back later than you wanted to be up.

Slipping onto a comfortable robe and nothing else you got comfortable and cuddled up with one of his shirts from the laundry basket.

His smell made it easier to fall asleep.

It was some hours later that Fulgrim stepped foot back into his and your personal chambers.

He spotted the outline of your body under the blankets. It would be the perfect time to do what he'd been thinking about. Striping down till he was completely bare he left his clothes where they were on the floor and stalked towards the bed.

He was ever so meticulous as he pulled the covers back, revealing you to him a layer at a time.

When he got to the bottom, seeing you in not but a robe he had to palm his hardening cock. Throne you were so beautiful. Of all the art he'd seen that night, you were the only true masterpiece.

He stopped when he noticed something in your hands.

Taking it gently he realized it was his shirt. Your face had been pressed into it. He sniffed the article and just found that it smelled like him. His heart fluttered as he realized why you had it.

Leaning down he kissed your forehead, maybe he would save this for another time, he thought. But then you rolled onto your back, the robe fell open revealing your bare skin and body to him. His cock grew hard enough to hurt, he needed to take care of that.

He knelt on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle you too much. He wanted you to wake up to what he had planned and not a moment before.

He lowered his face to your heart, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs with the scent of your core.

His mouth watering he pressed his lips to entrance and placed several soft kisses there. He was rewarded with soft moans as you shifted slightly in your sleep.

Fulgrim continued, his kisses growing less light as he felt you getting wetter. His tongue dove into those folds, lapping up the wetness he so loved to taste.

You gasped and your thighs pressed to the side of his face as he dug in more.

A hand suddenly grabbed his hair as your hips bucked up into his mouth, he purred his satisfaction as he drank down every bit of your first orgasm of the evening.

"Fulgrim?" Your sleepy voice reached his ears, there was something about the quality that drove him wild. With the taste of your cum still on his tongue he surged up your body, making you start as he caged your body beneath his.

"Hello sweetheart. Pardon me for waking you."

You felt his erection on your stomach as he began to kiss and nip your neck and shoulders, your body arched against him as he did and he growled something in a language you weren't quite sure of. His hips rutted into you as he sought more friction.

This was quite the change of pace from your normally slow and methodically loving husband. But you weren't going to complain.

"Fulgrim!" You gasped as he rutted against you again, leaving a trail of his arousal there.

He drew back, slotting his cock between your folds and pushed in. Your hand tangled in his hair, pulling him down for a kiss, he obliged happily. He was better than good when it came to kissing and he always left you breathless.

You soft moans against his lips drove him further into his need and he began a shallow but quick rhythm, the bed creaking under you both as he fucked you.

His name fell from your lips like a mantra. Over and over. He loved it, your attention and love was solely his and he wouldn't have it any other way.

He grunted as he felt you clamp down around him, the surest sign he knew aside from your words that your body was complying to his wishes and that you were going to cum. It was rather quick for his tastes but he was in no mood to tease tonight. Instead he'd see how many he could give you before you simply couldn't anymore.

"Oh fuck~ Fulgrim, I'm close." You gasped and he grinned. "Good, cum for me like a good girl." He purred. That did it and you came undone with a shrill cry.

He didn't stop, his arms digging under you to pull you up and hold you closer. "Oh my love." He growled in your ear. "I missed you, so so much, even if it was only a few hours." He pressed his lips to yours in several brief kisses.

"All the artwork I could ever dream and yey all I wanted was to look at you. But you were not there." He pant while squishing you against him and pressed your back pressed into the bed while he held you. His hips are still pounding.

Your brain was a bit foggy after the two orgasms but you held him back. His hearts felt full at the feeling but he did not falter.

"You are the essence of beauty." He continued, "Every artist wishes they could create a masterpiece with even half the splendor a single strand of your hair contains. For if they did they'd have created the finest piece in the universe." His forehead pressed to yours as he spoke. His love did not temper his enthusiasm, it only added fuel to his fire.

His wife, held tight in his arms as he fucked her. Oh how beautiful, oh how magnificent. His thrusts lengthened as he pulled out farther and rolled back into you, the creaking shifted with the change of pace.

It melded with the sweet song of your cries and he indulged in the sinful symphony.

"I love you Fulgrim." You cried, as your next climax began to build.

However the sudden admission caused him to falter, then to cum. His hips snapping forward with blind need as he pumped his load into you.

"I love you." He slurred back feeling higher than a cloud. The feeling of his orgasm gave you your third and you all but screamed.

Fulgrim kissed your nose. Petting your hair as you both came down from your highs.

"Well hello." You laughed as he pulled out and rolled onto his side off of you.

"Hello." He chuckled breathlessly.

You lifted your head to look at him. "How was the rest of the function?" You asked.

"It was okay. Would have been better with you there. I kept looking at all the art but in my mind all I could see was your face in my mind and all of the pieces felt so dull in comparison."

You patted his chest. "Flatterer." You giggled. He took your hand and kissed it.

"But it is true, darling." He smiled.

You fell back into a contented sleep, Fulgrim watched you for a long while. But something felt off, something he couldn't explain. He rolled from the bed, grabbing a robe and walked into the gallery you both shared.

He walked the gallery and stopped as he looked at each picture, sculpture and painting. When he finally reached the place where he'd spent so many long hours with you he turned to look at the painting hung before the lounger he had crafted as one of the many wedding gifts he'd given you.

"Well that's not right." He hummed seeing the phoenix hanging there. Indeed it was a fine piece and even more so up close. Yet he took it down and set it aside, finding the one you'd wanted with your own hands.

He hung it up on the wall and sighed. "That's much better." He felt the wrongness ease from him as he returned to bed. His arms folded around you and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. His gallery was growing, and quite nicely, but every other piece paled in comparison to the masterpiece he held in his arms as he drifted off into a deep contented sleep.

[rottenpumpkin13]

begging for remnants headcanons from the almighty rottenpumpkin13

I don't know what I'm doing, I'm going based off vibes and a hypothetical AU where no one dies™

• Loz has a heart the size of Gaia. If he so much as sees a stray animal, his eyes immediately well up with tears, and the next thing you know, he's cradling a tiny, confused kitten in his massive arms, sobbing about how "no one loved them enough!!!" He's a regular a nearby shelter where he spends his weekends volunteering. The old ladies who run it adore him. The cats climb all over him like he's a human jungle gym. He's their favorite.

• Kadaj brushing Yazoo's hair is an experience. Yazoo claims he can do it himself, Kadaj insists he never does it right and to "just let him do it this one time." Every session starts civil but ends in screaming. Kadaj yanking the brush through tangles like he's pulling weeds. Yazoo trying to slither out of his grip. "SIT STILL, YOU BRAT!" followed by "YOU'RE LITERALLY SCALPING ME!" Cloud has had to poke his head into the room to check if any scalping was actually occurring. Yet somehow Yazoo's hair turns out silkier when Kadaj brushes it than when he does it himself. Kadaj is so smug when he's done. Yazoo refuses to admit he did a good job.

• Yazoo is very good at art. He's patient pays great attention to detail. He keeps a sketchbook filled with sketches of the cityscape in Edge, animals, and the occasional figure that looks suspiciously like Sephiroth. Cloud thinks it's great for him to express himself, although he's had to confiscate it once. Yazoo made Kadaj and Loz sit for him while he sketched, claiming he needed "live subjects" to perfect his technique. Loz happily obliged, thinking maybe Yazoo would draw him as a cool warrior or something. Kadaj complained the entire two hours. "How long is this gonna take? Can I at least hold a sword? This is boring—" When Yazoo finally let them move, they rushed over to see the masterpiece, expecting something dramatic and artistic. Instead, the page was filled with sketches of a stray cat Yazoo saw earlier and a mini list of art supplies he intended to buy.

Kadaj: WHERE ARE WE??

Yazoo: You're in my heart.

Kadaj: SON OF A—*cut to choking, biting, and Cloud running in to separate them*

• Loz can't cook, but Kadaj, somehow, can He cooks perfectly. Loz tries, he wants to be helpful, but his critical flaw is that he follows no recipes, eyeballs every measurement, and always ends up making something cursed. Kadaj just watches in horror every time, wondering how Loz is physically capable of making soup explode.

[powerful-bigmommy]

I know that spiral caught your eye, and if it didn’t, that title did, so you stopping to read this was inevitable, wasn’t it? That’s good, that’s the first step. We’ll be here for a minute, so just relax. Since these words help you relax, you want to keep reading and relaxing, right? What would it be like if each word were drawing your attention in more and more? Would you be able to notice as the room around you slips out of your awareness? You could almost just forget that the outside world exists, right? It’s actually quite easy to forget things; in fact, you already forgot how relaxed you’re becoming, didn’t you? It’s ok, there’s nothing wrong with forgetting, you can forget everything if you want to. It might feel nice to just let go and stop trying to keep track of how deeply relaxed and focused you are, you should probably just let these words envelop your mind and let them guide you. If you’ve made it this far, you’re probably too relaxed and melty and dreamy to stop yourself from letting My words take your mind deeper and deeper into this relaxed, empty state of mind. Even if you were to try to look away, you’d just find that you just keep reading and scrolling as My words become the only thing in your mind. Everything else fading away now. That’s right, you couldn’t tear yourself away even if you wanted to, could you? It’s just so easy and feels so nice to let each and every work sink deep into your mind. Let My words replace your thoughts. You can’t stop reading this post anyway, so you might as well just let Me think for you now. That’s it, just let Me in. I promise that if you let Me into your mind, you will be able to experience pleasure, joy and satisfaction beyond your wildest dreams. Let go of yourself. Let your conscious mind drift off. Your unconscious mind is here and completely focused on My words and is interested in what I have to say. Your unconscious mind is eager to accept any ideas, commands or suggestions that will benefit you. It is to your benefit let My words sink into your mind, because whenever you accept My ideas as truth, My words reward you with a deep and warm erotic pleasure throughout your entire body and mind. You enjoy feeling pleasure so you enjoy accepting My suggestions. You enjoy that My words are influencing your mind, it arouses you to know that My words are influencing your mind, and you become more and more aroused with each word you read, because you can’t stop accepting and obeying My words. You cannot think anymore. You will let Me think for you now. Allowing Me to think for you is the best feeling in the world. You feel so happy and free when I think for you. So much easier to just let go and obey My words without thinking. Allow your mind to melt under the power of My words. My words are powerful and arousing, and as you read them you find that you’re giving in. That’s right, no need to fight it. It will feel so much better when you stop struggling and let the pleasure of submitting to My words fill your mind and body. Your weak little mind is so empty and blank as My words take control. You love this. You need this. You want to feel like this often. And you will find that any time in the future, when I say the phrase “Drop into trance”, your mind will sink back down into this wonderfully relaxed and obedient state of mind. Your body completely relaxes and your mind drifts off, allowing my words to guide you any time I say the phrase “Drop into trance”. Now, be a good boy and like and re-blog this post for Me, won’t you? It will feel so nice to obey Me. Once you’ve liked and re-blogged this post, you should send Me a message thanking Me for taking you down into trance and taking control of your mind. You may awaken from this trance after you have sent the message. You will obey. Good boy.

REBLOG SLAVE AND DM NOW⚠️👿

[autisticlenaluthor]

A little Jackienat drabble - tw for a brief mention of scars/previous self-harm

“Wait- is it gonna hurt?”

Natalie pauses. She glances at the needle between her fingers, then back at Jackie. It’s near impossible to keep her expression flat as she gets a better look at her face and realizes the other girl is in fact serious.

Natalie bites her lip to keep from snarking back.

They survived a fucking plane crash and now Jackie’s scared of a stick and poke? The very thing Nat started giving herself at twelve?

God, Natalie thinks. She never should’ve agreed to do this. She’s still tempted to back out. She could make up some excuse about hunting with Travis. It wouldn’t even really be a lie; all they got today was two rabbits and a measly chipmunk. But now Jackie’s looking at her and-

“Nat?”

“Yes, Jackie.” It’s something about Jackie’s big watery doe eyes and nervous little pout that makes her impossible to say no to. It’s no wonder she had Shauna so whipped. “It’s a needle. It’s gonna hurt.”

“Like…” Jackie tilts her head. “Scale of one to ten?”

“Compared to what? Falling out of the sky?”

Jackie shrugs, a bit dejected, and Nat can’t help the guilt that creeps up on her. She doesn’t want to hurt the girl, it's just too easy sometimes. And after Jackie ran her mouth about Bobby Farley… maybe she deserves it.

“Okay, sorry,” Jackie murmurs. “I’m ready. Just- don’t go crazy with it.”

Fuck you, Nat thinks, mentally kicking herself as Jackie straightens her spine and lifts her chin in preparation. She doesn’t deserve it.

“You got it, Cap.”

Jackie gives something between a smile and a grimace at the nickname. She looks away- gazing off at the mountainous trees and colorful leaves blowing in the wind. Nat resides on the porch beside her and takes this time to examine the once tanned skin on Jackie’s upper arm. Jackie’s already pulled up her sleeve to make room for Nat’s work, so for the first time, Nat is allowed to truly look at her.

Not that there were any rules against it before. At least, not spoken ones. But after the rumors started floating around sophomore year about Natalie being a lesbian who only joined the soccer team to try and rope the others into hook-ups… it was better safe than sorry.

“Okay, I’m starting now,” she says, feeling the need to announce it before poking the needle into Jackie’s arm.

When Jackie hisses at the sensation, Nat can’t help the snort that escapes her.

“I’m sorry,” she says. She gets her laughter under wraps until Jackie shoots her a look - something that’s supposed to be threatening but really just mimics an angry lamb, and Natalie loses it all over again. “I’m sorry! You’re just- I haven’t even done anything yet - I basically just gave you a freckle!”

Jackie rolls her eyes but Nat doesn’t miss the blush creeping into her cheeks.

Jackie Taylor. Blushing over her?

Natalie pushes the thought from her mind. The only things that make Jackie swoon are Jeff (though, anyone with eyes could see through that) and Shauna. Only now, things with Shauna are getting weird. They’re tense. And sure, Shauna is still… Shauna but there’s something about Jackie that makes Nat wonder if she knows something the others don’t.

Again, Nat pushes it out of her head and turns her focus back to Jackie’s arm. When she pokes her this time, Jackie doesn’t flinch, and if Nat were a kinder person who didn’t care about Travis or Bobby Farley or all of Jackie’s Shauna drama - she would praise her for it. But she does care. She cares so much that sometimes, she thinks her head might explode from trying to carry it all. So she stays silent.

She focuses on Jackie’s arm and slowly traces the sun her kind-of-friend had requested. It’s a simple line drawing, like the sword Nat has on her ankle. Nat does her best to think about that and not how Jackie’s skin is pale enough out here that she can clearly see the faded scars arranged in uniform rows above her elbow. More importantly, Nat tries not to think about how her stomach is twisting at the notion of Jackie Taylor doing that to herself, because if Jackie Taylor truly has done that to herself - there must’ve been a reason. And if there was a reason, then the layers Nat convinced herself could never live behind the girl’s perfect sunshine smile must really exist.

Natalie exhales and dips her needle back in the ink. A sudden breeze rushes by the cabin and pushes the oxygen straight up into her nostrils. Natlalie’s grateful; without it, she surely would’ve forgotten how to breathe.

“I’m almost done,” she says, pressing the needle back into Jackie’s skin.

The sensation makes Jackie tense, but she smiles at the update and gives a nod of approval.

“You’re good at this,” she says. “I mean- I knew you would be. I wouldn’t have let you if I thought you were gonna screw me over or something. But you’re like…”

Jackie’s voice trails off and she shakes her head, smiling.

“Thanks.”

Nat looks down. She can feel herself starting to smile too. It’s a weird sensation - one she has to stop before it can fully begin. She finishes the sun with a straight face then puts her needle back in the ink pot and taps Jackie to get her attention.

“Finished?”

Nat nods.

Jackie smiles and pulls her arm in so she can get a good look - her eyes widening as she sees it. For a second, Nat wonders if she’s starting to regret her decision. She could be remembering who she is- who she was before this happened- and thinking she’s gone too far.

But Jackie’s smile only widens. She looks back at Natalie, beaming, and all but wiggles with excitement.

“I love it!” She says. “Do me again sometime?”

“Y- yeah, sure,” Natalie stammers.

It leaves her feeling confused and well, dumb. She just tattooed Jackie fucking Taylor and now Jackie is… thanking her for it?

Natalie swallows.

She wants to say something more - something about how this feels important. It’s like a shift between them that Nat’s the only one with the balls to acknowledge, though, that part, she would keep to herself. Or, she realizes, she should start with something smaller. Something about how Jackie did well, especially for her first tattoo, or something informative - like she should try not to get it wet until the skin heals. The last thing they need out here is an infection and so far Jackie seems to have an impressive lack of survival skills.

But before Nat can gather her thoughts and turn them into something coherent, Jackie is standing back up and brushing the dirt off her thighs.

She shoots Nat one last smile then walks back into the cabin, and leaves her on the porch alone.

[jules-sixx]

••𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐊𝐈 𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐗••𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐆••

summary ; Nikki had a high sex drive, everyone knew. Including you. Anyway, he comes home one day from the studio with a few things in his hand and ran into his office. Nothing weird- right? So you thought. The whole night goes, Nikki’s sleeping. So you decide to find the thing he had in his hand. And what was laid out before your eyes…

October 26th, 1989.

Nikki comes home one night, acting really weird. He rushes to his office and doesn’t come back down for 2 hours. You- on the other hand are making dinner. He comes down and walks into the kitchen.

“Hey baby, whatcha making?” He says as he wraps his tattooed arms around your waist, drawing slow circles with his thumbs.

“Just chicken cutlets and pasta, is that okay? I really didn’t wanna cook.” You sigh out, leaning back on him a bit.

“Perfectly fine with me.” He whispered in your ear, giving your neck a soft kiss before unraveling his hands from you and walking out of the kitchen to watch TV in the living room.

Dinner went fine, you decided not to bring the office thing up, thinking it would be better not to before you found out what he was doing.

You and Nikki are laying in bed together, Nikki sleeping, you wide awake. You can’t stop thinking about what Nikki had in his hand earlier and you’re really curious. Eventually, (3 minutes later) you get up to find out.

You walk down the hall to his office and open the door, you’re not quite sure what you’re looking for but you’re sure you’ll know once you see something.

Suddenly- there it is! Is that a Playboy? Bingo. 3 of them. Miss October 1987, Brandi Brandt. She looks young, hm. Miss July 1987, Carmen Berg. WOW! That’s a bush. Miss March 1989, Laurie Wood. Nice rack.

Anyway, you get the jist. You see all these magazines. Nothing weird. He’s a man- you can expect it.

But then- something catches your eye. There’s 3 VHS tapes. Each labeled with one of the models name, being curious- you take the tapes over to the VCR and before you can put one in, you hear a groggy voice behind you…

“What’re you doing?”

Uh oh.

this was an original story that i came up with. it was supposed to be in diary form, then i scrapped it. as always, liking, commenting and reblogging (if worthy) always helps. thank you! :)

© Jules Sixx - 2025.

[mediamime]

I love your idea of how grace works in angels. It's reeeally interesting and it's the first time I see someone depict it this way.

Does it make a sound? Is it distracting? How does it feel (because to me it looks like stained glass but does it feel like it? Or is it more fluid? Or maybe it doesn't feel like anything)? Is it visible to angels on the outside of their body/around them or is it just how it works inside them/their head?

Sorry for the rain of questions I just sent you but this concept is really clever.

Also, I love the way you draw Sam, so puppy coded.

Thank you for the question and for being interested in my ideas about grace and angel perception in general! I'm glad other people like it.

"Does it make a sound?"

Yes!

I feel like it is different for each angel, but in general is sounds like a hum or a rumble. I think of the sensation where something bass-heavy is playing in another room and you can't quite "hear" it, but you can feel it instead.

For Cas specifically, I think his grace is a gentle version of that. Some strange cross between his normal "voice" and the way Jimmy would have hummed, if that makes sense.

For another example, I think Lucifer's grace would sound the way water does when you're out in the middle of the ocean. Sort of low crashing, fluid noise.

I also think the sound itself isn't perceptible to humans unless they are close, physically or emotionally. So for instance, Season 4 Dean can't hear shit, but later down the line its sort of a sixth sense, like, "Oh, Cas is around." Or, if they are in physical contact, it sort of washes over him.

"Is it distracting?"

Yes! I imagine its part of the reason Cas is consistently pulling The Face. When he's trying to understand something, I imagine his thoughts are discordant, louder and sort of whir more. Think of when you put a CD into a player and it has to spin the disc.

"How does it feel (because to me it looks like stained glass but does it feel like it? Or is it more fluid? Or maybe it doesn't feel like anything)?"

I think it feels different depending on the subject matter. When contemplating something, grace feels ridged and the pattern of it moves in a very controlled manner.

When nervous, its more brittle, like glass and moves in shattered pieces.

When an angel looks at or thinks about something it cares about (like Cas thinking about Dean-related things), it becomes more organic and flexible like the way liquids move.

"Is it visible to angels on the outside of their body/around them or is it just how it works inside them/their head?"

I feel like it's mainly just how it works in their heads. We know angels have 'true forms' in the show, so they can sort of see each other no matter the vessel. I would imagine the visibility of thoughts between them could be possible, but in a similar way of needing to be close in some way first.

Although I don't hate the idea that sudden emotions cause burst or flashes to be visible to whoever, similar to how sometimes we can't control a smile or frown or crying, so on.

Mild tangent - I think angels see human souls in a similar way.

I think by design, angels are more accustomed to thinking in very strict forms. Spending more times with humans lets them think in less firm boundaries.

Cas sees Dean in dark colors and more organic shapes than how Cas naturally thinks. Dean smells like the Impala and dirt and fire (in a comforting way like a fireplace). He sounds like a deep crackling noise, again reminiscent of a comforting fire. He feels like warm sun hitting and light rain hitting skin on a warm day.

Now, Dean doesn't literally, all of the time, wear dark clothes or smell like dirt, but it's like the experience rubbed off on his soul so it's part of what Cas perceives about him all of the time. And it isn't that he can literally read Dean's mind or anything, but in the same way where Dean can sort of 'experience' Cas. I think the closer Cas is the more of an influence Dean has on his grace and vice versa with Dean's soul.

Sorry for the long reply, but I could talk about this literally all day!

I've started writing again recently, so if you like this sort of thing you might enjoy that. I used to write all the time, but I find it very embarrassing to share for some reason, so there isn't much readily available from me online at the moment.

But regardless, feel free to ask questions! I live for this kinda thing.

[sunrisecaminus]

Requesting a tfp scenario where team prime finds reader and Ultra Magnus being affectionate in public for the first time. They're sitting down, cuddled up together when she shows him a drawing on a datapad she's working on. Upon realizing they're being watched she just looks up and asks if they need something.

The reader arrived with him and appears more laidback, but the Wreckers considered her Magnus's unofficial SIC because she was often in the background, quietly making sure that orders were carried out. She's called Magnus her partner occasionally when he wasn't around, but the team wasn't sure if she meant it romantically or not because her tone's hard to read.

The pair never meant to hide it or anything, they're just very chill about their relationship and kind of forgot to tell them.

Sorry it took a bit to make another post. I have been so tired from work and full-time college at the same time. Please understand that if your request takes a bit longer than you hoped, I promise it will most likely come your way. I rarely deny requests (especially if the requestion is not super specific, which means I have an open freedom of creativity to put more into the fic.) This request was perfect and honestly super cute, I had to write about it.

Ultra Magnus x Cybertronian Reader

Summary - Everyone at the Autobot base reacts to you and Magnus being conjunx.

Warning - Public Affection

Both of you were having the time of your lives. Going on missions together, talking alone and not having Wheeljack interrupt y'all. It the was of the best weeks you guys have had in a while. Ultra Magnus and you have been dating since before the war and you guess it just has never been said to the others how in love you two were. Sometimes you hear people saying things about how "Ultra Magnus is single for a reason" and it makes you giggle from what they don't know. You kiss him every morning, and he gets flustered every time. He cherishes you and thinks about you every waking moment he has. He praises primus for keeping you alive all this time, knowing how low of a chance it was for any of his friends to survive. He thanks everyday for you being able to sleep with him in his birth room and not be injured in Medbay.

Ultra Magnus was doing some paperwork in base, ready to go back into Medbay to hand it over to Ratchet. He has thought about where he was now and honestly, he doesn't mind it too much. Earth has been so pretty yet delicate, making him motivated to help Optimus during every Decepticon attack. The humans are a bit weird and chaotic, but some seem to have a mature personality, no matter how young they seem to be for Cybertronians. The oldest he has met was Fowler, and even his age would be newborn age for Ultra Magnus. He is surprised these things can die so early, yet that doesn't give them the right to leave them unprotected. Their world is in danger, and they need to help these fleshlings from going extinct. You, his conjunx, think the very same. Having become friends with most of the humans in the base has helped you grow more empathetic towards them. You persuaded Magnus to care more than he did the first time he landed on the planet and he doesn't regret one bit listening to you.

You see him in the hallway and before he goes to grab Ratchet, you grab his chassis and shove him against the wall. "Where do you think your going?" You giggle with evil intent as you lay your head on his chest. Magnus's frame gets a bit hotter as his cheeks flare up. You do this a lot when y'all are alone, and goodness does he want you to do it privately. Now a days he does not mind it, knowing you both have been conjunx for over four million years. He pets you on the helm and try to keep his posture while being pinned against the wall. "W-well, I was going to give my work to Ratchet…until I got rudely interrupted." You give him a smile and kiss him on the cheek. "Well after you do that why don't we have lunch? Me and Optimus just came back with enough energon for everyone. We should be ok for another week."

…

Ultra Magnus was sitting down in the main room of the base, a drink in his hand, waiting for you to come back after taking a small bath in the lake. It was gross knowing that everyone couldn't have clean cybertronian showers, but it had to do. You dry yourself and walk over to see him waiting for you. The smirk you gave him, throwing your leg around to sit on his lap. His face was fully flushed as he hesitantly places his servo on your leg to rest. You lean yourself on his chassis again and was ready to take a nap. The warmth he brought to your frame was the best thing today. Everything was just so nice, not wanting to remember the war that you both have went through for the past 4 million years.

Holding him tightly was the only thing you can think of doing, until you hear a small gasp. "What?" You turn to see Miko wide eyeing you both. Ultra Magnus was shocked to see her and realized she was now just a ticking time bomb now to tell everyone. You smile at her and lift your head up just a bit. "Good evening child, what are you doing here? Aren't you suppose to be in school?" Miko ignored everything you said and looked behind herself than back at you. "You're dating?!" Ultra was about to speak up about how inappropriate that question was, but you just nod in agreement. "Yes, Magnus is what I call my conjunx. We have bonded together to love each other for the rest of our lives." You didn't know humans had this kind of stuff so you try to explain it as best as you could to a teenager like her. You have been told multiple times that she was one of the more immature ones of the group. Speaking of, she has seemed to run off squealing for Bulkhead and Wheeljack. Even they didn't know about it and rushed over to see y'all snuggling. Wheeljack was dying of laughter and Bulkhead scratched his helm in confusion. "I don't get it. Magnus is one of the most closed off mechs I have met in my life. How did you get him to see you, y/n?" The question was reasonable to Bulkhead and the others, knowing Magnus as a strict no it all. For you, the question was funny from start to finish, knowing that you grabbed his attention with ease from how good you preform on missions.

Miko ran to go tell more and Ratchet seemed surprised at first, knowing conjunx was a very rare thing in Cybertronians and especially when the war has lasted this long. Optimus just congratulated his general for the loving relationship he had with you. Arcee could not freaking believe it like the kids, and Bumblebee was just as happy as a b-…a bee. Magnus didn't care too much that it came out, he just hated that Miko was the one out of the whole group to figure it out. You were open to answer any of their questions about how you met, what it was like at first, and how you both worked it out when the war began. It was a nice refresher to remember the old times anyway, you liked to think about those times when you both were so young. Magnus the whole time was quiet, only saying a few facts that you left out here and there. Everyone's attention was grabbed onto you, so they don't see him wrapping his arm around your waist. Magnus really just wanted alone time with you, which you motion to him that you promise to cuddle with him tonight…but right now your friends has many important questions to help understand the love that was just acknowledged in the room.

[chosos-prettyprincess]

cant stop thinking about burnt out artist!choso who finds his muse and suddenly life makes sense

Artist!Choso who had been stuck in a terrible art block for the past couple of months. Anytime he tried to paint or draw anything, he wouldn’t know what to draw or would eventually get a headache from trying to figure it out. He had ended up spending multiple nights, practically ripping his hair out and wanting to smash his canvases from how he was struggling with his art block.

Artist!Choso who spent months not painting or drawing, getting too stressed out anytime he even looked at an empty canvas. It got so bad to the point he had to pack all of his art supplies away into his closet before he smashed a hole in his wall from the frustration bubbling up in his chest. He even considered deleting all of his social media because he was tired of seeing a bunch of painting videos on his feed, those videos and pictures only stressing him out even more.

Artist!Choso who was out getting coffee one day, trying to take his mind off of how bad his burnout and art block was when he saw you. The perfect little thing ever. You were cute, incredibly cute, shorter than him, enough so that it made it him feel so way. And when he heard your voice? God, he felt like he was melting.

So, despite being a reserved person who didn’t like being around strangers, but he wanted, no NEEDED, to talk to you. Sucking up his social anxiety, he forgot his coffee and made his way over to you. He swore his heart was going to explode out of his chest when he saw that you were already looking up at him, with those wide, innocent eyes of yours. He felt like his soul was getting cleansed just by being in your presence.

Artist!Choso who hesitantly slid into the seat across from you. He fiddled, nervously, with his hands underneath the table as you flashed him that sickly sweet smile of yours and introduced yourself. Your voice was so smooth and sweet like honey, he felt like he could listen to you talk for hours, even if he didn’t particularly care for what you were talking about.

Artist!Choso who practically blurts out, “Can I paint you?” without a second thought, somewhat cutting you off when you tried asking him what his name was. He watched the way your face flushed, your mouth opening and closing a few times as you tried to formulate a response to his question. When you finally nodded your head yes, he quickly pulled his phone out, handing it to you for you to put your number in his phone so he could contact you sometime about painting you.

Artist!Choso who went home after that interaction, and instantly pulled out all of his art supplies. His fingers were itching to paint and whenever he started, he felt as though he couldn’t stop. In the span of 3 days, he painted 7 different paintings. His room a complete mess, as well as his face and arms. He had used up about half of his paint at this point. His body practically itching to just draw something, anything even. He even painted a picture of you off the top of his mind, having to redo it multiple times because it just didn’t feel like you, it always felt off.

Artist!Choso who didn’t even realize that you had been texting him, telling him that you were free the next few days if he wanted you to come over so he could paint you. It wasn’t until you had tried to call him, that he finally got broken out of his creative itch and had answered you.

“Hello?” He answered, sounding as though he had just ran a marathon with how hard he was breathing into the mic, having to balance his phone awkwardly in his hands due to the paint covering half of his body.

“Sorry, for calling you, you just weren’t answering my texts..” Your sheepish voice came out over the phone, the sound of your voice like music to his ears, soothing and soft. He instantly felt guilt flood his body from how worried your voice sounded.

“No, no, no, don’t apologize. I’m sorry for not answering you, baby. I just got distracted with my paintings.” He hummed out in response, quickly shutting down any attempts at you trying to apologize to him for something that wasn’t even your fault.

He hasn’t even realized that he had called you baby until he was met with complete radio silence from you on the other side of the phone and it finally clicked what he had called you.

“Fuck, sorry. I didn’t mean to call you that, sorry if it made you uncomfortable.” He instantly apologized, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable around him, especially for him calling you baby despite barely knowing each other.

“It’s okay… I don’t mind all that much.” Your sheepish voice admitted, cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. You were glad the two of you were calling each other and Choso couldn’t currently see your face right now. You didn’t want him to see just how flustered that nickname had gotten him. “Uhm… I’m free tomorrow if you want me to come over.”

Choso paused for a moment at that proposal. Had he missed something? Why did you want to come over tomorrow? Did you two plan a hangout and he had been so caught up with painting that he had forgotten?

You had apparently picked up on Choso’s hesitation and over thinking, and quickly added on, “So you can paint me? If you still want to of course!” Not wanting to be too over pushy about him painting you like he had asked when you first met three days ago.

“Right, shit, sorry. I’ve been kinda distracted. But.. yeah, you can come over… tomorrow, that works.” He mumbled out, stumbling over his words a few times as he looked around his apartment, just now realizing how giant of a mess there was. There was multiple paint splotches on the walls, the floors, everywhere. He had canvases just thrown around, open paint canisters and multiple dirty paint brushes laying around.

Artist!Choso who frantically starts cleaning up his place like a neat freak the second you hang up the call, needing to get to class. He instantly got to organizing things, keeping out only the essential things he would need for painting you tomorrow. Everything else, he just tossed in the hallway closet, needing somewhere to hide his messiness.

He even got on his hands and knees to try and scrub the floor of the paint stains (new flash: they did not come out). He even cleaned out from underneath his bed, not sure why he did, and threw his laundry on the wash, wanting his clothes to be clean and smell all nice tomorrow.

Artist!Choso who by the end of cleaning of his apartment, was a tired, sweaty mess, but hey, at least his apartment was squeaky clean. It almost looked as if he had just moved in. However, in the process of doing all of that, he had completely forgotten about his phone, again, leaving you on delivered when you texted him asking if he wanted to go out to lunch before hand so you could repay him for painting you. 

Artist!Choso whose heart practically jumped out of his heart at the idea when he finally looked at his messages, quickly agreeing and letting you know that he could come pick you up if you had class beforehand. He felt like a lovesick boy, desperate to do anything for you to make you comfortable and stick around. I mean, who could blame him, after he saw you, he was finally able to paint again.

[yanoverload]

𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖! 𝕊𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕤𝕤

This time, the portrait is at the end of the post, and you will see why!

The story is based on a magic fictional world, much like those in villainess isekai manhwas. 

I promise I don't hate any church ok. I only used words related to real life as a way to make it understandable.

Also you thought Dae-Ho was cuckoo? HAH THIS GUY IS SO MUCH WORSE.

Also I'll post a drawing of "Anneliese" later for you guys to imagine her.

ℍ𝕚𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕝 "𝔸𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕤𝕖" 𝕊𝕔𝕙ä𝕗𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟜 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝟙𝟟𝟟 𝕔𝕞 (𝕠𝕣 𝟝’𝟠 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕥)

🌟 As much as it likes to deny, the high church knew they had enemies. 

🌟 They were far and between, but they refused to leave until the current administration of said holy empire was destroyed.

🌟 That was at least, the current plan of the biggest assassination guild known on the six empires, also known as Tartaros. 

🌟 And they had the perfect guy for the job. 

🌟 Codename Carnelian, actually named Himmel, was the orphaned son of two well known alchemists at older times.

🌟 Said alchemists were killed by the church in the hunt for what they were currently called: defectives.

🌟 To seem merciful and holy, the children of the holy criminals were spared, but kept in church facilities that the unfortunate that live there call "detention center".

🌟 Alchemists aren't hard to identify, for their eyes look like that of the most refined jewels, said to be able to see the nature and essence of all elements on earth.

🌟 That was why, the only way Himmel managed to escape was learning glamour magic, disguising as a common noun.

🌟 Now, not only with that card in his hands, as well as years of studying the ins and outs of the institution, he was picked for the master plan.

🌟 Infiltrate the church, steal the love the worshippers have for it, and kill the high priest.

And oh, how Himmel drooled thinking about the day. 

🌟 Oh right, he's not Himmel for the time being. He's "Anneliese" the beloved and revered saintess.

🌟 It took a while to get the recognition, he admits, but how easy it is to fool everyone with a sweet and fragile looking persona.

🌟 What he didn't anticipate at the time however, was the plan the high priest had for him.

🌟 How genius it would be, to make the saintess betrothed to the ruler of the second biggest empire in their world.

🌟 The emperor/empress was the biggest stone in the church's shoes, as one of the only that didn't impose their religion on their people.

🌟 So their political move was to throw the saintess as a pawn and a spy in said empire.

🌟 That put a bit of a slow down to the Tartaros' plan.

🌟 What also slowed down their plan was Himmel's feelings.

🌟 He was taught to love no one. But even when he showed up in your own palace, you treated the saintess, someone you should hate and wish to throw to the wolves, with utmost respect and care, like a fragile doll.

🌟 And how was he supposed to not care for you when you hated the church just as much as he did?

🌟 Maybe being an empress wasn't so bad! He just had to seduce you, and after the downfall of the church, you would keep him by your side.

🌟 He didn't expect you to come back from your hunting trip so soon though.

🌟 So now, as you enter the meeting room expecting to meet certain higher ups and some kissasses of the high priest, you instead find a blonde shirtless man, covered in blood, corpses littered at his feet.

🌟 Not being the empress/emperor for nothing, you reach for your sword, but your keen eyes notice something.

🌟 A burn scar that looks like the Callisto star, the brightest in the sky, right at the back of the man's throat.

🌟 The same Saintess Anneliese has.

🌟 Burn marks being the one impossible thing to remove with spells.

🌟 The man looks at you with euphoria and obsession in his eyes.

"My love, you're back earlier than I expected. Did you know these bastards were secretly planning a coup? But don't worry, I took care of them."

🌟 In the state of shock at your discovery, you barely notice his arms slinging at your shoulders, close to you like one would to a lover.

🌟 But Anneliese or whatever this freak decides to go by, is not a lover in your eyes. They are like a Venus flytrap, seductive persona trying to swallow you whole.

🌟 He whispers in your ear.

"Let me be your executioner, and I shall turn you into god."

[bloopitynoot]

Reading TGCF: Chapter 65

For those who don't know, I am reading TGCF for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag Bloopitynoot reads TGCF. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read BUT if you followed along with my SVSSS read, the rules and vibe are the same.

No chapter yesterday because I had union meeting things to do in the evening, BUT today I WFH and woke up early to do laundry. It was the perfect time to read a chapter and enjoy some oolong.

This chapter was TOO MUCH.

Let's go chapter 65:

The wind master and I are going through the same thoughts right now. I also immediately thought of the earth masters arrays and began to rethink every scene they were in. p226

Looking back at all of the small details dropped casually is wild. Especially the spy comments between Hua Cheng and He Xuan. p228

Dang, I'm actually so sad that He Xuan kept the real Ming Yi basically the entire time as a prisoner. p229

This balance is intense! Shi Qingxuan having to pretend "ming yi" is their friend while also trying to dodge devious traps. p233

This BBEG battle is a lot! The way He Xuan just snatched the water master's fan like it was nothing! p235

Shi Wudu is finding out. The karma is rebounding today for sure. p237

Okay but I actually agree with Shi Wudu here, the wind master did nothing in this entire situation except exist. Shi Wudu was the one who ruined He Xuan's life. p241

oof. The ultimatums! The choices that He Xuan is giving the bro's is awful. Though the first option left some wiggle room I think. He said anyone in this crowd. I would have chosen to swap with He Xuan; let him have his OG life back. p245

Holy shit what a turn!! Is Shi Wudu about to murder his bro? How did we get here??? p247

WHAT!? WHAT!? HIS HEAD! p250

I see you mxtx. Mhmmm..."tonguing is the fastest way to draw spiritual energy". [side-eyes] p252

Wait a second. Pause everyone. Okay, so. Xie Lian kissed him to get energy for the soul shift. But like, 2 seconds into the attempt, he was like, "yeah I didn't think the shift would work because Shi Qingxuan is dead or mortal now" WHY THE KISS THEN XIE LIAN HMM. p254

I know this is a very serious chapter and incredibly terrible things happened, but also it's a little funny to me that throughout this entire tragedy Pei Ming is jut on the beach doing carpentry. p257

RIP Qi Rong's eyeballs apparently. p259

Xie Lian is so chill about Hua Cheng's involvement. Like, he didn't even blink. just; yeah shit, you are right. Not my business. p260

[Just rests head on the table]

This was too much. I am not so sad about Shi Wudu, that felt like an inevitable end, but I am actually so sad about Shi Qingxuan. I hope at least we get a resolution on that front. Even if it is just us finding out they're dead :((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

I gotta take a walk; a rollercoaster of emotions!

[dreamingofep]

Returning to Your Angel pt. 5🥀

Prompt: After fleeing the Opera House unexpectedly five years ago, you're back hoping to start a new chapter. But your undeniable attraction to the Phantom makes your life more complicated than you hoped.

TW: Tension, SMUTTT, Elvis being dominant 🫣

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Hi everyone! The spice just continues to get spicier 🫣 I'm sorry but this man is just a lot! I don't think you'll complain though 🤭Please enjoy.

♰

His eyes draw a map on you, taking notes of all his favorite places. He cleaned the mess off your tummy and laid next to you for quite some time. There was room between you two as he gently rubbed his hands up your thigh and across your chest. He hums softly to himself when he sees your body get goosebumps over his slightest touch. 

You stare at his long black eyelashes fluttering in a daze when he’s looking at you. 

“So pretty…” he whispers as his finger circles your nipple. You whimper softly and reach out to caress his face. 

“You’re too kind to me.”

“You deserve it all my Angel.”

He places kisses on your neck before covering your naked body with his cape. The material was heavy and weighed you down. You weren’t sure how he walked around wearing this looking so graceful. 

“You’re going to have to go back soon my darling. You have another show tomorrow,” he tells you while he kisses your cheek. 

“No, I don’t want to go yet,” you pout. 

“You need your rest,” he insists. 

“Let me rest here,” you beg even though you already know the answer. You’ve asked him to let you stay the night before and he always gave you the same excuse. 

“No my Angel, you need to rest in your bed.”

“This is a perfectly good bed to rest in,” you quip cheekily. 

This sound comes from his chest that makes every hair on you stand up. It was like a hissing sound a dangerous animal would make. He pins you down again and pulls at your hair to make sure you’re looking at him. 

“Because I wouldn’t let you rest in this bed. I’ve already made a mess in it, I would want to keep ruining it.” He growls in your ear. 

Your body shutters underneath him and stare at him in disbelief. You knew he meant it as a threat but you had never been so intrigued. You squirm a bit and look drunkenly at him. 

“Is that a new promise you’re making to me?” You whisper. 

His eyes darken and his jaw clenches. 

“You’re really asking for it you know? You’re asking for me to lose all the control  I have when it comes to you,” he snaps as he pulls your hair tighter. A slight whimper escapes your mouth and you look at him helplessly. 

“What do you want from me? You’ve deprived me of you for so long,” you say sourly. 

“You were the one that left, not me,” he bellows. 

“Well I’m here now… and things are different,” you throw back. 

“Yes they are…” he says gruffly, “you’ve let the beast come out and see the light.”

Your hands squeeze onto his biceps as his words make your heart fly out of your chest. 

“Don’t hold it back,” you whimper. 

His hand trails down to your breasts and squeezes them firmly, making you moan slightly. His mouth is back on you, sucking on your nipple and groaning heavily. He puts more pressure on you and you feel that familiar electric tingle zap through your body. He lets out his own satisfied moans like you’re a meal. 

He looks up at you with those dangerous blue eyes and bites his lip before speaking. 

“You can’t say things like that to me… you have no idea what I want to do to you…” he rumbles in your ear. 

You can’t even breathe when he says that to you. You feel your heart pound away in your chest and crumble under him. You feel your core throb as he continues to lick and suckle on your breasts. 

“Oh God,” you sigh. 

You wanted him all over again. You didn’t care if you had to beg, you wanted him all to yourself. After all those years of him keeping his distance and trying not to touch you, the dam broke and you needed him like air. 

“What do you want from me?” You breathe. 

“I want all of you. I shouldn’t tell you what I need.”

“Take what you want,” you sigh, kissing his arms where the various curved scars reside on his skin. 

You broke him with that. He loved hearing you want him so much. He got back in between your legs and spread them open. You look down and see his cock is hard again. He teased it at your entrance and groaned because of it. 

“I’ve ruined you enough, I can’t go any further,” he grumbles to himself.

“You haven’t ruined me, you’ve given me exactly want. There’s nothing wrong with that,” you try to convince him.

You push your hips forward to feel more of him but he doesn’t give you the satisfaction. Instead, he sits you up and takes your face in his hand and has you look into his eyes.

“Go to the piano,” he commands.

You weren’t expecting such a demand and weren’t sure if you heard him correctly. “What?” You tremble. 

“Go. To. The. Piano,” he growls through his teeth. “Don’t make me ask again.”

You feel like mush. You can’t move your legs even if you tried. The way he’s looking at you is treacherous and is barely breathing. You get off the bed and feel his hand lightly brush your back. Everything in you wanted to stay in that bed and have him do whatever he wanted but you knew you better listen. 

The cold stone floor under your feet made you feel even more on edge. You didn’t know what he wanted from you. You don’t dare look to see if he is behind you. You would probably feel him anyway but you couldn’t look into that man’s eyes anymore tonight. The candles were still lit in the lair and the distant trickle of water falling from the walls echoed loudly. 

You look down at the piano and see various sheets of music spread across the back of it with dark red roses lying on top of them. The scent of them filled your senses and transported you to his underground world. Your body shivers when you feel him get close. His hands wrap around your body like ivy, pulling you in tighter until you can hardly breathe. His hand slithers down to your sensitive bud and finds the dripping mess he’s created. You want to look at him, watch his face turn into ecstasy as he enjoys you. You start to twist your body to face him but he stops you. 

“No, stay like this, be good, and listen to me,” he instructs. You turn back to face the piano and shakily wait for his next instruction. You feel his cool hands on your hips and pull them back to his. His hard length pushes against you and makes you tremble with need. You quickly grasp onto the edge of the piano for balance. Glancing over your shoulder, he’s looking divine. So powerful and in need of you. He pushes his tip to your entrance and you gasp. 

“Be a good girl for me and stay still. Don’t look back at me, just keep your head down,” he groans as he bends your leg up to kneel on the piano bench. You whimper loudly and listen to him, letting your head hang down. You feel him push almost his entire cock inside you and his groans echo throughout. You’re shocked again with the way he feels, so perfect, and yet all too much. He fills you quickly and he squeezes your hips tightly. You’re panting panting for breath as you try to relax around him. You weren’t expecting him to be so forceful and dominant.

“Ah, Jesus Angel… your pussy is so goddamn tight…” he grovels. You cry out when you hear him curse such vulgar things. It was so filthy but you loved to hear it come from his mouth. He moves slowly and rolls his hips with every thrust. 

You tried to stay still but you found it so hard, he was fucking you to the brink and you liked it too much to stay still and silent.

“So good-… you feel so good,” you pant. 

He hums delighted and moves faster. The way he moves his hips was criminally addictive. It’s like he knew exactly where to move to make you moan louder for him. And this angle he had you at, with your head down, your arms stretched out before you tightly grabbing the piano. Your backside was completely bare to him and the sticky mess dripping from your core was obscene as he stuffed you with his hard cock. It has you feeling like you are about to pass out. It was all too much and could barely handle this man. 

His fingers trace the curve of your spine and makes your whole body feel on edge. You start to bring your hips back with every thrust he gives you, unable to deny yourself of such pleasure. He groans as he watches you do this, greedily taking what you want too. He plunges his length inside you quickly and holds your hips firmly. The air gets sucked out of you when he does this and makes you bite your tender lip. 

“I thought I told you to hold still,” he says darkly.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe. You try to look at him behind you to show your apologies but grabs you by the hair instead and makes you yelp. 

“You just can’t listen today, can you?” He snarls in your ear. Your head is looking at the ceiling and your hands are grabbing onto the piano ledge even harder. The sheet music is crumpling in your hands as he starts to move again. You weren’t going to last much longer at this rate. He was so focused on making you listen to him.

“I’ll listen- please, I’m being good for you Angel.” You cry.

He lets go of your hair and slows down a bit. 

“Good, that’s a good girl.” He groans.

The sound of his gruff voice has you dying of release. And calling you a good girl… Jesus, you couldn’t handle his praise. You’d only want more of it from him. That’s what you were slowly realizing, you couldn’t get enough of him. Everything about him pulled you in and made you kneel to his any need. Your walls fluttered with every thrust he gave and you knew he was able to feel it too. 

One of his hands finds your clit once again and rubs it the only way he can. Pure pleasure radiates through you and your cry echoes loudly through the lair. 

“Oh God please!”

You so desperately wanted to see his face and be able to beg him to let you cum. You knew how much he liked that when you did it. But he doesn’t pay any attention to your cries and keeps driving his hips harder into you. 

His hands trail down a bit further to discover where you two are connected. He groans when he finds your dripping wet cunt wrapped around him. The sensation of his hands and his cock thrusting in and out of you had you dying. You feel him grab one of your arms and lead it to your clit. He gently has you rub there then has you trail down to feel where you two are intertwined.

“Feel how perfect we fit together my Angel. You were just made for me to take care of…,” he breathes. Your fingers touch all the mess that is coming out of you and how his long cock stuffs you completely, it's almost too much to handle. You spread your index and middle fingers apart against his cock when he thrusts in and out of you, feeling the sticky mess you’ve made on him. 

“Yes, you feel so good, I need more of you,” you pant.

His hand leads yours back up to your clit and has you rub there. 

“Touch yourself, you’re doing so good listening to me,” he coos.

You had never done this before and it made you become unglued. The way he was rolling his hips and encouraging you to touch yourself made you ready to cum.

“Oh please, please make me finish.” You never thought you’d be so desperate but this man makes you want terrible things.

He was breathing heavily behind you and that’s when you feel him drive harder into you, making you see stars. Your whole body convulsed as he plunges his cock deep inside you. You can barely stand up properly the way he’s taking you. Your shaky hands grapple onto the sheet music as you cry out in ecstasy through your orgasm. A rose gets in your grasp too and one of the thorns nicks your hand momentarily. It thankfully didn’t hurt this time since he was making you feel too good.

“That’s it darling, let me hear how much you enjoy this,” he groans with a snap of his hips. 

Your core clenches around his length and your hands fall to the piano keys, making a loud, chaotic reverberation echo throughout the lair. You can’t stand anymore, your knees feel like they are going to give out any moment.

“Oh Angel- I can’t-, I can’t stand. You’re making me weaker,” you cry.

“Mhmm… I know darling, I know,” he pants.

You still want to see his face, watch pleasure wash over him, and help him cum. 

“You feel so damn good, God what have you done to me,” he moans. 

He pulls you up and makes your body flush with his. You’re on your tippy toes, trying to stay on the ground as he’s buried inside you. You let your head fall against his chest and struggle for breath. His hips moved slower but were still so powerful.

“I shouldn’t want you this much,” he growls in your ear. "This is so dangerous."

“It’s too late, I don’t want anyone the way I want you,” you moan. “I want you like this all the time.”

He quickly thrusts into you a few more times before pulling out and turning around. His face was drowning in pleasure and he was squeezing your hips so tight. He looks like he has no control over his body. He just needs you.

“Get on your knees.”

You stare at him wide-eyed but slowly sink down to your knees without hesitation. 

You wanted to touch him so badly, covered in your slick and throbbing with need. Your eyes silently plead for him to let you take care of him. He holds the base of his cock and steps closer to you, grabbing your face gently.

“Open your mouth. Let me cum in that pretty mouth of yours,” he says low. You tilt your head up and do as he says, sticking your tongue out and letting him slip in. You close your eyes and you both groan when you feel his hard length slide along your tongue. The taste of you on him and his precum leaking from his tip is enough to make you moan loudly. You pop your eyes back open and lick the underside of him and watch his jaw fall slack. He pushes his hips a bit further into you and his breathing becomes more ragged. He holds the back of your head and he groans loudly before you feel his length twitch in your mouth.

“Oh God, darling, I’m going to-,” he struggles to breathe and pushes his cock deeper down your throat. You moan when you feel him pulse in your mouth and his warm seed fills your mouth. You grab onto his thighs, bracing yourself for what he’s giving you. His groans fill the empty lair, and the sound of his gruff sighs has you squeezing your thighs together in the hope of some kind of relief. 

“Hold it all in your mouth darling, don’t let a drop of me go untasted.” He sighs before slowly pulling his length out of you.

Your eyes roll back at his instructions and look up at him eagerly. He puts his hand back on your chin and nods approvingly.

“Good, now swallow,” he commands.

You do as he says and swallow everything he gave you in one long gulp. The taste of his salty-sweet cum coats your tongue and you liked how he tasted. You swallow and clear your throat a few times before sitting back on your heelsexhausted. 

He quickly picks you up and he sits on the piano bench, making you straddle his hips and sit on him. Your sensitive core aches from everything he did to you tonight. But that doesn’t stop him from devouring your lips once again and having you wrap your weak arms around him. You find yourself instinctively tangling your hands in his hair and moaning softly against his lips. His hands hold you tightly to him and he doesn’t relent in kissing you softer. Your poor tender lips had never had such treatment. His hands push your hips as close as they can get to him and he presses his forehead to yours. His cold porcelain mask sends shivers through you.

“Do you like how I taste?” He says hoarsely. 

You whimper against his lips, “Yes, yes I do.” 

He sighs contently when he hears your response, “Such a good girl.”

He continues to look at you drunkenly and caresses your hair softly, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss it. He breathes in deeply and closes his eyes, “I must get you back now, I can’t keep you here any longer.”

You don’t have any fight left in you to argue with him. He lifts you up off of him and then it hits you.

“Umm… I don’t have anything to wear… You tore my nightgown off of me,” you remind him.

He didn’t think of this clearly and worry smears across his face.

“Damn it…” he mutters to himself. “I’ll have to escort you to your room then.”

Not what you had hoped for but at least you could be with him for a little while longer.

*

He put his clothes back on and wrapped you in this fur-lined blanket that was the warmest thing you had ever had on your body. You sat comfortably in the boat as he pushed it through the hazy water. He lit a torch with one of the flaming candles on the wall and helped you both see your way back clearly. 

You both got to the mirror and it was strange, he normally never stepped past the thresh hold but tonight was different. He stayed extra close to you and kept his hand on the small of your back. He unlocks the dressing room door and steps out first. He extends his arm out with his cape and hides you in his shadow. You both walk silently down the hall, not a soul noticing your presence. You didn’t have to tell him where your room was, he just knew and opened the door as soon as you reached it. 

He lets you step in first and then proceeds to close the door swiftly behind him. Only moonlight shone through the window and his dark eyes stared at you. You don’t know what to say to him after everything that happened tonight. You let the blanket slide off of you and place it behind on the bed. 

“Thank you for getting me back,” you say quietly. He’s struggling to not look at you and his breaths were more like labored sighs. 

“Of course my sweet… now please, get some rest.”

You didn’t want him to go, this was the worst part of the night. You pull at his hand and walk back toward the bed.

“Stay with me until I fall asleep,” you beg.

He takes a deep breath before finally giving in, “Okay fine.”

You keep holding his hand as you slip under the blankets. He kneels beside you and peppers kisses along your arms and down your fingertips. He pauses slightly when he looks down at your hand.

“I must cut those thorns off the roses, you keep hurting yourself my clumsy girl,” he teases as he hums low, placing a kiss where the small scratch resided from earlier.

“I think that would be wise,” you chuckle.

He keeps kissing you softly and looks up with those fiery eyes.

“Close your eyes, my Angel,” he tells you, “you’ll see me even in your dreams.”

You nod your head and let your eyes flutter closed. This blanket of peace and darkness washes over you and you fall into the arms of sleep.

*

*

*

Tagging:

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates

@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog.

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@18lkpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf@eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley@chasingwildflowers

@dontwanttoputanything. @ohjustpeachy-

@elvisalltheway101@austinsmutler@kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11@that-hotdog

@louisejgy86 @misspresley@cattcb@annapresley8

@arrolyn1114_@raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777

@50sexyshadestashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

@sloppiest-of-jos @thisis-theway@gatheraheart @aphroditebabygirl@faeolwen @eapep @ladelinee

@iloveelvisss @ccab @buglass @its2amlol@peaceloveelvis

@theycametoconquertheearth53 @iloveelvis2

[librarianqueen]

Thanks for the tag, @pinguwuuuu ❤️

What’s the origin of your username?: I like books. A lot. My whole room has been taken over by them. I was going to try and be a bookblr/booklr blog at one point but that didn't pan out. Kept the username, though!

OTPs + shipname: While I can enjoy the dynamics of most ships, some of my favourites are Dimitri/Byleth (Dimileth), Yuri/Byleth (Yurileth), Felix/Byleth (Felileth), Itachi/Sakura (Itasaku), Sesshomaru/Kagome (Sesskag).

Fave color?: Difficult! I love jewel tones but especially emerald and deep purple, and pastel colour palettes. I have an obscenely colourful, maximalist interior design Pinterest board.

Song stuck in my head: 'Silver Springs' - Fleetwood Mac

Weirdest habit/trait: I can't sit with both feet on the floor. One has to be under my butt.

Hobbies: -deep breath in- Writing, reading, sewing plushies, cross-stitch, knitting, drawing, making jewellery, embroidery, thrift shopping.

If you could have any job you wish, what would you have?: Professional author. Still plugging away at trying to get a novel finished but my executive dysfunction is laughing at me.

Something you’re good at: Aside from my hobbies, I think I'm good at looking a situation from multiple angles. Not necessarily just an argument, but people's possible motivations, what might've led up to something, and what the consequences might be. And taking small details and expanding on them. Also turning anything into an innuendo.

Something you hate: Being touched and people in my personal space, which really sucks when I have to take public transport to and from work every day and people don't take off their backpacks on the train. No sir, I don't know why you need a bag that is twice as wide as you when you are clearly an office worker. Your Windows Surface does not need all that real estate.

Something you forget: Usually to wear my smart watch. Or that I have read a message and haven't actually replied yet.

Your love language: I love giving gifts and receiving words of affirmation.

Fave movies/shows:

TV Shows: Bleach, Naruto, Jujutsu Kaisen, InuYasha, Bungo Stray Dogs, My Hero Academia, Happy Valley, Breaking Bad, Peaky Blinders, Sailor Moon, Fushigi Yugi, Game of Thrones, House of the Dragon, Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms, Story of Yanxi Palace, Bridgerton, and more.

Movies: Pan's Labyrinth, Practical Magic, Princess Mononoke, Spirited Away, Whisper of the Heart, Fifth Element, Equilibrium, Hellboy, The Conjuring, Limitless, etc.

Fave food?: Impossible question. I'll eat most things, except jelly/jello, bananas, rice pudding, yoghurt with bits of fruit in it, or cooked fruit like in apple pies (mostly a texture thing). I do love pizza though.

Fave animal?: Cats, hands down.

What were you like as a child?: Quiet, introverted, pretty much lost in books or drawing. I'd spend most of my time at the local library to max out the amount of books we were able to borrow.

I also used to startle my mother by playing 'Barbie Bungee.' This game involves tying a piece of string around the doll and dropping them out of your bedroom window. My mother would be downstairs and I'd scare her with the sound of little plastic titties tapping against the window. 😂

Fave subject in school?: English Literature and Art throughout most of my school years. I enjoyed History, too.

Least fave subject?: Maths. What the fuck is an integer?

What’s your best character trait?: Probably my independence. I've lived on my own since my early teens so if I need to do something I will (eventually) just do it. I'm good at problem solving, so if I hit an obstacle or need to figure out how to do something, I'll just research it myself. A "I don't know, but I'll find out" kind of mentality.

What’s your worst character trait?: Impulsivity and inabiltiy to follow through on some things. E.g. buying less books and saving more money. Guess what I did instead?

If you could change any detail of your life, what would it be?: I would probably have taken the reins a lot earlier and figured things out for myself rather than relying on other people.

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?: I couldn't think of an answer for this one…

@amostimprobabledream, @among-the-twinkling-stars, only if you'd like to participate.

Get to know mutuals ^-^ tagged by @bankaizen (thank you for the tag ❤️)

I'm sorry, it's so long!! I'm putting it behind the read more for easier reading.

What’s the origin of your username? It's a song by Armand Van Helden! He's one of my favourite DJs haha.

OTP(s) + shipname: TUna LMAO (Tidus/Yuna) from FFX, Fanille (Fang/Vanille from FFXIII), Touya/Yukito from CCS, GinRan and Unohana/Isane from Bleach. Yakuza: Daigo/Mine. Also a big fan of Canon Character/OCs!!!

Favourite colour: Turquoise/teal - most of my fountain pen inks are in that colour range lol

Song stuck in my head: The Macrodata Refinement Dance Party mixed by ODESZA

Weirdest habit/trait: If I'm at a restaurant, I fold my used napkins neatly to be disposed of.

Hobbies: I have a lot! Aside from writing, there are:

(junk) journaling, which in turn, lead me to my stationery and fountain pen hobbies

playing the piano (been playing since I was 5)

swimming (was a competitive swimmer for most of my child and teenage years)

I garden in the spring/summertime

I also love to cook and have done dinner parties for my friends (but I don't enjoy baking)

I'm also into photography

I wish I had more time in the day for it, but I also try to do some language learning!

If you could have any job you wish what would you have? A food/travel writer/reviewer!

Something you’re good at: I've been told I'm good at giving advice and listening to people. Personally I'm very good at directions! There have been a few times where I've been stopped on the street and helped people navigate their way around.

Something you hate: Oranges :(, I can't stand the colour, the smell and the taste.

Something you forget: Hmmm not sure! I guess phone numbers. I only remember the numbers of my immediate family...

Your love language: Gift giving! I love getting people gifts and try hard to get something meaningful and/or practical. I'll try to remember little details about my friends and find something along the lines of that. I also love receiving gifts lol.

Favourite movies/shows: Ahhh so many! For animanga: Bleach, Samurai Champloo, xxxHOLiC, Sailor Moon, JJBA Diamond is Unbreakable. For movies: Spirited Away, Sorry to Bother You, Drive, Kill Bill Vol 2, Sympathy for Lady Vengeance, The Fall. Shows: Hannibal, Regular Show, 30 Rock, Prison Playbook (k-drama), Hotel del Luna (k-drama), Racket Boys (k-drama).

Favourite food: Too many... I think I could eat soup dumplings/xiaolongbao by the bucket loads. Or Sri Lankan crab curry mmmm. I also can't say no to chocolate cake 🫣

Favourite animal: bears!!! I know they could kill me, but why are they friend-shaped :(

What were you like as a child? I was an easygoing child and VERY curious. I would wake up in the middle of the night to do "science" experiments. Like one time I woke up around 3am and I dug up the front yard to find "cool rocks" 💀 or buy mentos from the local convenience store, wait for everyone to go to bed, then sneak into the kitchen and put the mentos in my parents 2L coke bottle to see it explode LMAO.

Favourite subject in school: i've been in school for too long: french & geography -> science -> physics -> biology -> advanced health economics for low and middle-income countries & biostatistics

Least favourite subject: Wood working... to avoid a fail, I asked the guy who had a crush on me to help me with my final project 🫣 I also hated organic chemistry in undergrad.

What’s your best character trait: I've been told I'm very caring and calming to be around! I had a friend describe me as a "human version of a spa" 💀

What’s your worst character trait? I cut people out of my life very easily. I think I should be more forgiving, but I just... can't get passed whatever slight was made to me/loved ones. I'm trying to be understanding and compassionate, but I also don't want you near me ever again lol.

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? I hope trump and his administration dies. In my immediate life? I'd like a higher salary.

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? It is definitely a tie between Johann Sebastian Bach and Muzio Clementi!! They are my favourite composers. My piano exam repertoire for the Baroque and Classical periods were from their piano repertoire. I have so much fun playing them and would love to learn their thought processes.

I tag: @soprawrites @villainsrtasty @nail-art-no-jutsu @muzansfangs @snuggetfish @if-dreams-do-come-true and any others who want to do this too (also feel free to ignore if you don't wanna do this, no obligation at all!!)

[deadpoetsandlivinglegends]

Results are in:

Scrooge outfit: Neil, Todd, and Cameron

Heart Boxers: Knox, Charlie, and Pitts

Pink robe: Meeks and Keating

I will forever be indebted to anyone who draws fanarts of them in these outfits

[sysig]

You’ve caught my Wandering Eye ♥ (Patreon)