#【 likeness. 】 ¦ my heart’s aflame; my body’s strained ― but god; I like it.

[alyxwithoutthe-e]

Wolf Like Me one of the best songs ever- werewolf allegory of homosexuality, transsexualism, chronic illness, neurodivergence, spirituality, environmental activism, returning to nature- screams I love it so much

#SAY SAY MY PLAYMATE #MY HEARTS AFLAME MY BODYS STRAINED BUT GOD I LIKE IT #my favorite version is the TV On The Radio One but I love any iteration #werewolf #werewolves #wolves #Wolf Like Me #music #love them all but the original hits hardest #love the lera lynn and shovels and rope one too

[orboborbus]

Gotta curse that I cannot lift

#my mind is changed #my body’s strained #but God I like it #my heart’s aflame my #body’s strained but #God I like it #tv on the radio #wolf #werewolf #art #my art #I was #feeling feels #Lemongrab noises #we’re howling forever

[wolfofwinchester]

I know canonically it isn't so, but wouldn't it be cool if any time you tried to take a picture of any member of the Phantomhives, there's always something a little odd with it? A blur in the facial region, an odd dark spot in the corner, a strange double effect. Paintings are one thing done by the human hand unless possessed, new age photography is technological invention.

#(( I have had this thought More Than Once. )) #(( eventually some of them might refuse having their picture taken - saying they never look good in it. others think it a little obnoxious #but don't see it as a deterrent. the whole thing is still new and isn't expected to work *perfectly* after all. )) #【 musings. 】 ¦ my heart’s aflame; my body’s strained ― but god; i like it. #【 ooc. 】 ¦ out of sight; out of mind; out of time. #(( Sebastian likely manipulates the camera so the picture *does* come out clearly when it involves Ciel.. /most/ of the time. )) #(( other times it's simply like something else is buffering against it. )) #(( pesky. but what can you do? it's not *trying* to get Ciel so. 🤷‍♀️ ))

[becamesun]

tonight no moon / to break myself against. gifs not mine.

#my heart's aflame my body's strained but god i like it

[we-may-still-have-time]

#the first chorus of this song changed me #'my mind has changed / my body's frame / but god i like it' #i am allowed to choose to view my body differently #i am allowed to not only let go of but even actively ignore how other people perceive my body and focus entirely on how i view it #yes i can still be a chameleon when i need to keep myself safe #but i can choose to view myself and define myself however i want #now that i write all this down it seems so obvious it is so obvious #but it's one of those things i knew intellectually but never really felt before #i feel it now deeply #'my heart's aflame / my body's strained / but god i like it' #(did i just have some surprisingly gender-affirming surgery? why yes i did. i didn't expect to feel this. it feels so big and so good.) #(i'm a little sad it took me this long to get here but i'm glad i'm here now.) #infinite thank yous to the 'wave hello to the void' playlist

[willowser]

my heart's aflame, my body's strained (but, god, i like it)—

werewolf!bakugou x f!reader

ao3 | playlist

tags: nsfw, smut (18+), modern au (no quirks), continuous talk of death and grief and loss, talk of dead body/corpse, possessive behavior, some violence, *rough sex, **attempted sexual assault, *bakugou is actually so animalistic in this one please understand, heavy angst, ungodly amounts of mutual pining, time-skip, i leaned a bit into the southern gothic theme. (tags subject to change)

...coming soon !

*bakugou is — quite literally — a bit feral in this. i've decided to forgo a dubcon tag, but i want to warn that at one point reader is a bit resistant to him and he does not listen. it's a very much consensual situation and is meant to be taken as the reader being a bit nervous or surprised maybe, but not unwilling or uncomfortable.

**there is, however, a very specific scene in which the reader is forced into an interaction beyond their control and is touched and handled in a way that's without their consent, and not wanted or welcomed at all. it doesn't come from bakugou, it's not very long or graphic, and there's no penetration, but just be advised.

#no fic yet !! #more on the tags under the cut #๑ but god i like it: bakugou ๑ #i have had it up to here with this header i've looked at it too long and HATE IT AKFJSIAKA #but this has been in my drafts for ages so. #✿ wips

[magnolia-sunrise]

ok greedily asking a second one bc why not

'song that fits so well its scary' and 'has one or two lines that fit them' for wolf

pffff i feel like you know all of these well by now but i will of course indulge!

from the "has one or two lines that fit them" variety, there is Anna Calvi cover of Wolf Like Me and specifically the way she sings the chorus "My mind has changed my body's frame, but, God, I like it/ My heart's aflame, my body's strained, but, God, I like it" is so transgender to me

'song that fits them so well its scary' is hard pick once again bc their playlist is full of songs that vibe really well but i will offer you this SuperKnova gender feel bop:

#answered

[thedragonagelesbian]

20, 21 and 22 for dark urge asks!! Sorry I couldn't pick just one 😅

oh no need to apologize i am HAPPY to keep yelling about him <333 (durge asks here)

20. Is your Dark Urge open about their Urge or do they try to hide it? Why?

His initial instinct was to hide it. He tried to keep his distance from the other party members for fear that he might do something, but not fully understanding his bloodlust and not wanting to worry anyone unnecessarily, he kept it to himself. The first exception was Astarion, who quickly picked up on Cyrus' walking disaster vibes (/insert complaint about how much extra durge content astarion has here/). The second was Wyll, perfect monster hunter extraordinaire who Cyrus felt could stop him if he lost himself.

And then. Well. Alfira happened. Cyrus didn't try to hide the body and claimed full responsibility for it in the morning-- whether he meant to kill her, whether it was "really" him or his Urge, is immaterial to him. Her blood is on his hands, that's all that matters.

He's more open with the rest of the party from that moment onward (and tells Halsin about it as soon as he joins the camp-- that dialogue btw??? i could cry). He'll bring it up to people outside of the party if he thinks they might be able to help with it (like Abdirak) but otherwise keeps quiet unless he thinks he's a risk to someone's safety.

21. What are 2-3 songs that your Dark Urge would relate to?

I am slowly adding Durge songs to my 3 & a half hour Cyrus playlist.

penance ~ serpentwithfeet

I adore this song for a resist!Durge, and for Cyrus' additional aasimar associations with divine sacrifice & atonement. The notion of mercy being in retrograde, of waiting in shame for a judgement that has not yet come, of receiving a love you feel unworthy of... augh it's /chef's kiss/

wolf like me ~ lera lynn, shovels & rope

Gotta have at least one werewolf song for Durge aoipfdjasdf. I love the sense of physicality & transformation in this song (my mind has changed my body's frame / but god i like it / my heart's aflame, my body's strained / but god i like it). The dual sense of monstrosity between the singer & the person she's singing to (& trying to convince to share in her curse) also gives it a cyrusXastarion vibe:

Dream me, oh, dreamer, down to the floor

Open my hands and let them weave onto yours

Fill me, completer, down to my core

Open my heart and let it bleed onto yours

Feeding on fever, down on all fours

Show you what all that howling's for

23. What first impression does your Dark Urge give off to strangers?

Cyrus is striking, being obviously an aasimar. Strangers are often fascinated by him for that alone, drawn by the allure of the divine.

That said. He is often DRENCHED in blood. Which directly counters his strenuous efforts to come off as pleasant and friendly and helpful (hello 10 CHAR...).

#durge!cyrus #thank you <333333333333333

[informalcrybaby]

Clever Girl (Harwin Strong x OC) (Part 3)

Summary: Lyra and Harwin meet again at the tourney.

A/N: Hey everyone! Here is the next part in the “Clever Girl” series, I hope you like it! As someone with three brothers of my very own, I think this reflects how they always seem to contribute to things not going to plan. Thanks a ton for the likes and messages!

 Lyra’s father often commented that her curiosity would most likely be the cause of her demise and even in death, she would find herself lurking around corners in the afterlife to spy on the Gods. So, it came as no surprise that after their tent and possessions were situated, Lyra stole away into the bustling crowds to explore her lively new surroundings.

           She was dressed simply in the colors of her house, a gown of emerald, green held together with deep copper stitching. Her fiery red hair hung how she preferred it, loosely and unconfined. As she weaved through the throng of chattering people, her eyes scanned each of their faces, searching for the pair of blue eyes that made her heart float. Fifteen minutes passed and she praised her sense of direction, for at the edge of the encampment, stood the Strong tent.

           Nobody milled about outside or sat on the lonely pine benches in front of a freshly laid firepit. From her vantage point behind the nearest tree, she strained her eyes, trying desperately to see even the slightest of movements through the gap the tents flap provided. After several breathes, a sudden realization struck her. Was she no better than a common lurker? What would Ser Harwin, or worse his father, think if they were to catch her peering into their temporary quarters? Mortified at the idea of being discovered, Lyra slowly stepped back from the tree to begin her escape. Her boots crunched out three steps before hitting something…or someone solid.

           Warm breath crested the top of her head as her hand instinctively went to hover over the dagger concealed in the simple belt encircling her waist. A large, tanned hand laid itself on hers before the dagger could be freed.

“We meet again Lady Cutthroat,” The most delightful baritone uttered from behind her, the owner of who’s hand still laid on her own, “But I do believe I am in possession of the upper hand this time.”

           Harwin’s words stole all breathe from her lungs and lit her body aflame with a heat that both terrified and delighted her. At every point where their bodies touched, the flames burned harder and as if she were a Targaryen, she felt herself sinking deeper into the fire. Harwin made a noise deep in his throat and spun her to face him.

“It seems that I have been bested.” She whispered breathlessly, taking in the features she had only dreamed of for months. Gods, he was the most magnificent things she had ever witnessed.

“Our score is even then.”

“So, it seems.” Lyra’s eyes bore into his, the world around then blurring.

“May I ask what you’re doing lurking outside my tent, Lyra?” He asked, a mischievous smile curled his luxurious lips, her name dripping from them like honey. When he spoke her name, like a delicacy, she ignited with the need to know what it tasted like.

“I came bearing orders to assassinate you.”

“Who wishes me dead?” He challenged playfully.

“A good assassin kills themselves when facing interrogation.” Lyra smirked as Harwin’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and then melted as he laughed heartily.

“Clever girl, I would rather perish than watch you fall on your own sword.”

           No words passed between them when Lyra realized that he still held her hand in his own. She tensed, unused to the feeling of a man that wasn’t family’s hands on her. Feeling her sudden shift, Harwin gently stroked his thumb over the tops of her fingers. What would it feel like to have those hands elsewhere? She wondered and from the look on his face, she felt he was thinking the same thing.

“Lyra!” Bastion’s cry broke her from her lust filled trance. Dropping her hand from Harwin’s grasp, she spun, eyes zeroing in on her brother.

           Two tents over, Bash hung in the air, suspended by the hand of a very angry man, fist buried in the back of the young boy’s tunic. His nose dripping with fresh blood. The world became a canvas, and its artist chose to paint all in crimson. Gathering her skirts in her shaking hand, Lyra stormed across the earth, dodging all that stood in her way until she was within a foot of the man who thought he had the right to lay even a finger on her kin.

“Release him now or I will not hesitate to bury my knife in your thick skull!” She seethed, baring her teeth, and not hesitating to drop her hand to her belt, unsheathing a sliver of her dagger to show the man she wasn’t one to utter false threats.

“Silence girl,” He growled, shaking a terrified Bash, “The boy tried to steal from me, and I will take what is owed for thievery.”

“I just wanted to see his sword Lyra,” Bash squeaked, his face taking on a slight blue hue from his restricted flow of air, “Please believe me!”

           Fresh tears fell from his eyes, falling to mix with the blood gushing from his nose. Even if he had attempted to steal, Lyra would not allow physical harm to go unanswered. With a steady breathe, acknowledging what she was about to do, she readied herself for her attack but just as she started forward, a hand reached out from behind her and before she could protest, she was staring at Harwin’s back.

“Release the boy Edmund,” Harwin ordered lowly and when he didn’t immediately comply, he growled out, “NOW!”

           Edmund released Bash, who fell to the ground with a thump and gasped for the breathes he had been robbed of. Rounding Harwin, she fell to the ground by her brother, taking his face in her hands.

“The boy tried to steal from me!” Edmund accused; finger crooked accusingly to the crumpled boy.

“Hold your tongue!” Harwin shouted back, stepping forward until the two men were nose to nose.

“You don’t under--“Edmund was cut off by Harwin’s next statement.  

“That boy is of noble blood and will not be treated as a common thief, no matter the trespass you believe he committed.”

“But the little rat tr—” Edmund tired again but was denied for a second time.

“Silence!” Harwin roared, causing Lyra to shutter, “I will hear no more from you about a boy who hardly reaches your hip.”

           The two men remained in each other’s faces for a heartbeat longer, Harwin’s blazing eyes shooting daggers into Edmunds. Finally, Edmund turned and stalked through the opening in his tent. When Harwin calmed enough to address the siblings, a warmth spread through his chest at Lyra’s sisterly ministrations.

“There we go,” She whispered calmly, encouraging the boy the hold the piece of cloth she had ripped from her sleeve to his nose, “Hold tight and the bleeding will stop soon silly boy.”

“I’m ok Lyra,” He grumbled, attempting to preserve any remaining dignity, “Can we go back to our tent now?”

           The crowd that had gathered slowly began to taper off, but a few prying eyes still lingered. Bash didn’t seem to care about them though, for he was only focused on Harwin, who stood sentinel over the pair. Sensing her brother’s discomfort, she lifted herself from the ground and tried not to laugh as the boy ignored her helpful hand. He struggled for a moment, with only one hand to lift himself, but eventually was able to do the same. To the boy’s dismay, she still placed a comforting arm around his shoulders.

“Thank you, Ser Harwin but it would seem, with that show, our score is now uneven.” Lyra mused.

“The tourney has just begun, Lady Lyra, I’m sure you will find an advantage somewhere.” Harwin replied, tipping his head to the pair and cursing her horribly interruptive family internally.

“Count on it.” She smiled demurely before tightening her hold on her troublesome brother and turning to disappear into the crowd.

“Goodluck in the games Ser Harwin!” Bastion yelled over his shoulder, a feral smile accompanying his words.

           Harwin stood in place, watching them walk away until her fiery hair completely disappeared. He knew it was improper, savage even, but he knew he had to get her alone. He just had to figure out how.

#harwin x oc #harwin strong #slow burn #annoying brothers #house of the dragon #@evyiione #@ephemeralninon

[sharkbitesteve]

"My heart's aflame, my body's strained, but god I like it..."

Thought I'd do another werewolf piece for Halloween, inspired by one of my favourite songs, Wolf Like Me by TV On The Radio.

#werewolf #wolf like me #my art #steve white art #pen and ink #traditional art #original art #just for fun #halloween

[offantasiesandreams]

Your writing just makes my life much more brighter. I reread it almost everyday. May I ask a smut with Batter who tied up by puppeteer's strings. No pressure feel free to write it whenever you want or don't write it at all. Have a wonderful day!

Gosh, that's a really high compliment for a writer to receive! Thank you so much! Also, good idea, anon! Subby Batter is what the world needs more of, so I was more than happy to write this! I hope you'll have a wonderful day/night as well!

A Puppet on Strings

Notes: NSFW, bondage

Yes, he indeed was your puppet, obeying your every move. The threads of his destiny were woven, measured and cut by your hands only. Such was the power you held. Even so, he did not think of this as something beyond a metaphor, much less something literal. And yet, they took form, enthralling him as you spun them around so effortlessly. Slower than anticipated, they bound him so gently, taking away what others would consider freedom.

Taking his cap into your hands, you looked him in the eyes, a soft expression on your face. A puppet he was, but to you, Batter was so much more than that. A companion, a partner, a lover. You kept each other safe, physically, mentally and spiritually. “Are you sure you want this?” That particular question you had asked so many times before, each and every time its response was one of affirmation. There was little else you cherished as much as the trust between you and him.

Having set his headwear aside, you put his face in your hands, giving him a gentle kiss on his lips before the spectacle was about to start, reciprocation coming from his side.

But such innocent intimacies were not meant to last when the impure had protruded your minds. A longing for a deeper connection, satisfied only briefly when your tongues met, strings of saliva the only evidence of such occurrences.

You took the lead, you always did, for even when he wished to satisfy his own desire, it was only to please you. Taking his breath, stealing his mind, all that he had, he gave it up for you. There was no more rational thought, only your lips taking a chance at his exposed neck as he fought for air. A gentle bite of love left him hissing and clenching his fists.

When you pressed your body closer to his, Batter’s temporary loss of control and attempt at taking things further did not escape you. After having pulled his shirt over his head, your hands roamed over his bare torso. His cold skin was nothing new to you, if anything, it just reminded you he wasn’t a human being. And yet, the way he moved, he expressed himself, and the way he showed his affection, it was so very human.

Although normally capable of holding himself back, it was a Sisyphean task when it came to you. Every passing second put a strain on his composure, crushing it under the pressure of pleasure. A trail of your affections was left from his chest, that heart that belonged to you, to his lower abdomen. The heat burned like hell’s inferno. And yet, his sins were not turned to ash, they were tainting his skin, a display for the saints and gods to see. A comedy to ridicule. But there was acceptance from the one saviour, the only deity that mattered.

As much as you wanted to indulge and send him into an upper state of bliss, you simply could not hide the sin of pride swelling up within you. Although your own throbbing arousal became harder and harder to set aside with every sharp breath on Batter’s behalf, you prioritised him above yourself. Fumbling with his belt, it was evident by then he was desperate for further action. All four of his eyes were open, a spectacle taking place once in a blue moon, silently pleading. Rubbing his crotch through his boxers, he shivered, biting back a moan. The fabric had already been stained by precum.

Every nerve of his had lit aflame, making him aware of what was happening, and more importantly, what he had been aching for. Your hand on his erection, the cloth separating his skin from meeting yours still, he couldn’t stand it, and thus, he bucked his hips forward. Nothing. Air couldn’t satisfy him like you could. “Hah… hah… My Player, please.” Not a single string of words in existence would accurately describe how much Batter wanted, needed, you.

Amidst all these impure plans you had, it was the streak of mercy that shone through, egging you on to, if nothing else, at least free his manhood. Even if you had expected it to appreciate its newfound liberty, it sprung forth with a vivacity unbeknownst to you. Achromatic like the rest of his body, the cool of his skin was usually remarkable, however, with all the blood coursing through it, the warmth was comparable to the evening sun of summer.

So tender were the kisses you placed atop its head. Light and graceful, it made his head spin in more ways than just one. Had it not been for the threads keeping him upright, his legs would have betrayed him already. “(Y/N), please!” Even a diamond breaks under enough pressure. The manual caresses never ceased, even as you rose from your position on the ground. Although a smile as gentle as mother Mary graced your lips, a holy spirit, mischievous in nature, danced behind your eyes. You pressed your lips against his, an act of reassurance for what was to come.

“My Batter, I’m certain you can endure this, yes?”

#off (game) #batter x player #batter x reader #not seeing fabulous writing #every time Batter gets to bottom five years get added to my lifespan #anyway sorry about length! #i tried to keep it short #though at this point this might as well be considered a shortfic #disguised as an imagine/a bunch of hcs #but i hope you enjoy! #minors dni

[gileam-v]

My mind has changed My body's frame But God I like it My heart's aflame My body's strained But God I like it ~~Wolf Like Me, Lera Lynn

#ffxiv #ffxiv gposers #jullus pyr norbanus #zero #i love these two #i ship that

[so1vitur-ambu1ando]

My heart's aflame

My body's strained

But god I like it

#wolf like me #tv on the radio #music #Spotify

[ejunkiwoof]

My mind has changed My body's frame, but, God, I like it My heart's aflame My body's strained, but, God, I like it

wolf like me ft. shovels & rope by lera lynn

#werewolf #werewolves #music #christening the werewoof blog with my favourite wereolf tunes #werewolf wednesday #....on a thursday

[thewilddoghaunts]

Say, say, my playmate

Won't you lay hands on me?

Mirror my malady?

Transfer my tragedy?

Got a curse I cannot lift

Shines when the sunset shifts

When the moon is round and full

Gotta bust that box, gotta gut that fish

My mind has changed

My body's frame, but, God, I like it

My heart's aflame

My body's strained, but, God, I like it!

#Cypher #me and sixer #when we're cyford #i should tag that #cyford #musik #wolf like me - tv on the radio #Spotify

[nkogneatho]

Pasi this song gives me such Satosugu and Satoru vibes it's insane

Transfer my tragedy? Got a curse I cannot lift Shines when the sunset shifts When the moon is round and full Gotta bust that box, gotta gut that fish (My mind's aflame)

My mind has changed my body's frame, but, God, I like it My heart's aflame, my body's strained, but, God, I like it My mind has changed my body's frame, but, God, I like it My heart's aflame, my body's strained, but, God, I like it

Open my hands and let them weave onto yours Feel me, completer, down to my core Open my heart and let it bleed onto yours

Got a curse we cannot lift Shines when the sunset shifts (We're howling forever, oh, oh) There's a curse comes with a kiss

#ESPECIALLY THIS LINE #I just listened to it and the lyrics is so relatable towards them #soulmoots.°•♡ #stari♡