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#but i'm enjoying writing
wardingshout · 3 months
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Zelda goes mushroom girl
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glo-shroom · 27 days
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yes & no by Natalie Wee | Trigun Ultimate Overhaul
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egophiliac · 7 months
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another one that I'm not super happy with, but continuing to mess with it isn't going to help! so here he is! 🦇 there was a lot I was trying to get across in this one, so uhhhhh hopefully it reads.
we're almost out of unique magics now...just Ace (and maybe Grim?) left!
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hajihiko · 4 days
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Nice night 🌘
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inky-duchess · 3 months
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Fantasy Guide to Interiors
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As a followup to the very popular post on architecture, I decided to add onto it by exploring the interior of each movement and the different design techniques and tastes of each era. This post at be helpful for historical fiction, fantasy or just a long read when you're bored.
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Interior Design Terms
Reeding and fluting: Fluting is a technique that consists a continuous pattern of concave grooves in a flat surface across a surface. Reeding is it's opposite.
Embossing: stamping, carving or moulding a symbol to make it stand out on a surface.
Paneling: Panels of carved wood or fabric a fixed to a wall in a continuous pattern.
Gilding: the use of gold to highlight features.
Glazed Tile: Ceramic or porcelain tiles coated with liquid coloured glass or enamel.
Column: A column is a pillar of stone or wood built to support a ceiling. We will see more of columns later on.
Bay Window: The Bay Window is a window projecting outward from a building.
Frescos: A design element of painting images upon wet plaster.
Mosaic: Mosaics are a design element that involves using pieces of coloured glass and fitted them together upon the floor or wall to form images.
Mouldings: ornate strips of carved wood along the top of a wall.
Wainscoting: paneling along the lower portion of a wall.
Chinoiserie: A European take on East Asian art. Usually seen in wallpaper.
Clerestory: A series of eye-level windows.
Sconces: A light fixture supported on a wall.
Niche: A sunken area within a wall.
Monochromatic: Focusing on a single colour within a scheme.
Ceiling rose: A moulding fashioned on the ceiling in the shape of a rose usually supporting a light fixture.
Baluster: the vertical bars of a railing.
Façade: front portion of a building
Lintel: Top of a door or window.
Portico: a covered structure over a door supported by columns
Eaves: the part of the roof overhanging from the building
Skirting: border around lower length of a wall
Ancient Greece
Houses were made of either sun-dried clay bricks or stone which were painted when they dried. Ground floors were decorated with coloured stones and tiles called Mosaics. Upper level floors were made from wood. Homes were furnished with tapestries and furniture, and in grand homes statues and grand altars would be found. Furniture was very skillfully crafted in Ancient Greece, much attention was paid to the carving and decoration of such things. Of course, Ancient Greece is ancient so I won't be going through all the movements but I will talk a little about columns.
Doric: Doric is the oldest of the orders and some argue it is the simplest. The columns of this style are set close together, without bases and carved with concave curves called flutes. The capitals (the top of the column) are plain often built with a curve at the base called an echinus and are topped by a square at the apex called an abacus. The entablature is marked by frieze of vertical channels/triglyphs. In between the channels would be detail of carved marble. The Parthenon in Athens is your best example of Doric architecture.
Ionic: The Ionic style was used for smaller buildings and the interiors. The columns had twin volutes, scroll-like designs on its capital. Between these scrolls, there was a carved curve known as an egg and in this style the entablature is much narrower and the frieze is thick with carvings. The example of Ionic Architecture is the Temple to Athena Nike at the Athens Acropolis.
Corinthian: The Corinthian style has some similarities with the Ionic order, the bases, entablature and columns almost the same but the capital is more ornate its base, column, and entablature, but its capital is far more ornate, commonly carved with depictions of acanthus leaves. The style was more slender than the others on this list, used less for bearing weight but more for decoration. Corinthian style can be found along the top levels of the Colosseum in Rome.
Tuscan: The Tuscan order shares much with the Doric order, but the columns are un-fluted and smooth. The entablature is far simpler, formed without triglyphs or guttae. The columns are capped with round capitals.
Composite: This style is mixed. It features the volutes of the Ionic order and the capitals of the Corinthian order. The volutes are larger in these columns and often more ornate. The column's capital is rather plain. for the capital, with no consistent differences to that above or below the capital.
Ancient Rome
Rome is well known for its outward architectural styles. However the Romans did know how to add that rizz to the interior. Ceilings were either vaulted or made from exploded beams that could be painted. The Romans were big into design. Moasics were a common interior sight, the use of little pieces of coloured glass or stone to create a larger image. Frescoes were used to add colour to the home, depicting mythical figures and beasts and also different textures such as stonework or brick. The Romans loved their furniture. Dining tables were low and the Romans ate on couches. Weaving was a popular pastime so there would be tapestries and wall hangings in the house. Rich households could even afford to import fine rugs from across the Empire. Glass was also a feature in Roman interior but windows were usually not paned as large panes were hard to make. Doors were usually treated with panels that were carved or in lain with bronze.
Ancient Egypt
Egypt was one of the first great civilisations, known for its immense and grand structures. Wealthy Egyptians had grand homes. The walls were painted or plastered usually with bright colours and hues. The Egyptians are cool because they mapped out their buildings in such a way to adhere to astrological movements meaning on special days if the calendar the temple or monuments were in the right place always. The columns of Egyptian where thicker, more bulbous and often had capitals shaped like bundles of papyrus reeds. Woven mats and tapestries were popular decor. Motifs from the river such as palms, papyrus and reeds were popular symbols used.
Ancient Africa
African Architecture is a very mixed bag and more structurally different and impressive than Hollywood would have you believe. Far beyond the common depictions of primitive buildings, the African nations were among the giants of their time in architecture, no style quite the same as the last but just as breathtaking.
Rwandan Architecture: The Rwandans commonly built of hardened clay with thatched roofs of dried grass or reeds. Mats of woven reeds carpeted the floors of royal abodes. These residences folded about a large public area known as a karubanda and were often so large that they became almost like a maze, connecting different chambers/huts of all kinds of uses be they residential or for other purposes.
Ashanti Architecture: The Ashanti style can be found in present day Ghana. The style incorporates walls of plaster formed of mud and designed with bright paint and buildings with a courtyard at the heart, not unlike another examples on this post. The Ashanti also formed their buildings of the favourite method of wattle and daub.
Nubian Architecture: Nubia, in modern day Ethiopia, was home to the Nubians who were one of the world's most impressive architects at the beginning of the architecture world and probably would be more talked about if it weren't for the Egyptians building monuments only up the road. The Nubians were famous for building the speos, tall tower-like spires carved of stone. The Nubians used a variety of materials and skills to build, for example wattle and daub and mudbrick. The Kingdom of Kush, the people who took over the Nubian Empire was a fan of Egyptian works even if they didn't like them very much. The Kushites began building pyramid-like structures such at the sight of Gebel Barkal
Japanese Interiors
Japenese interior design rests upon 7 principles. Kanso (簡素)- Simplicity, Fukinsei (不均整)- Asymmetry, Shizen (自然)- Natural, Shibumi (渋味) – Simple beauty, Yugen (幽玄)- subtle grace, Datsuzoku (脱俗) – freedom from habitual behaviour, Seijaku (静寂)- tranquillity.
Common features of Japanese Interior Design:
Shoji walls: these are the screens you think of when you think of the traditional Japanese homes. They are made of wooden frames, rice paper and used to partition
Tatami: Tatami mats are used within Japanese households to blanket the floors. They were made of rice straw and rush straw, laid down to cushion the floor.
Genkan: The Genkan was a sunken space between the front door and the rest of the house. This area is meant to separate the home from the outside and is where shoes are discarded before entering.
Japanese furniture: often lowest, close to the ground. These include tables and chairs but often tanked are replaced by zabuton, large cushions. Furniture is usually carved of wood in a minimalist design.
Nature: As both the Shinto and Buddhist beliefs are great influences upon architecture, there is a strong presence of nature with the architecture. Wood is used for this reason and natural light is prevalent with in the home. The orientation is meant to reflect the best view of the world.
Islamic World Interior
The Islamic world has one of the most beautiful and impressive interior design styles across the world. Colour and detail are absolute staples in the movement. Windows are usually not paned with glass but covered in ornate lattices known as jali. The jali give ventilation, light and privacy to the home. Islamic Interiors are ornate and colourful, using coloured ceramic tiles. The upper parts of walls and ceilings are usually flat decorated with arabesques (foliate ornamentation), while the lower wall areas were usually tiled. Features such as honeycombed ceilings, horseshoe arches, stalactite-fringed arches and stalactite vaults (Muqarnas) are prevalent among many famous Islamic buildings such as the Alhambra and the Blue Mosque.
Byzantine (330/395–1453 A. D)
The Byzantine Empire or Eastern Roman Empire was where eat met west, leading to a melting pot of different interior designs based on early Christian styles and Persian influences. Mosaics are probably what you think of when you think of the Byzantine Empire. Ivory was also a popular feature in the Interiors, with carved ivory or the use of it in inlay. The use of gold as a decorative feature usually by way of repoussé (decorating metals by hammering in the design from the backside of the metal). Fabrics from Persia, heavily embroidered and intricately woven along with silks from afar a field as China, would also be used to upholster furniture or be used as wall hangings. The Byzantines favoured natural light, usually from the use of copolas.
Indian Interiors
India is of course, the font of all intricate designs. India's history is sectioned into many eras but we will focus on a few to give you an idea of prevalent techniques and tastes.
The Gupta Empire (320 – 650 CE): The Gupta era was a time of stone carving. As impressive as the outside of these buildings are, the Interiors are just as amazing. Gupta era buildings featured many details such as ogee (circular or horseshoe arch), gavaksha/chandrashala (the motif centred these arches), ashlar masonry (built of squared stone blocks) with ceilings of plain, flat slabs of stone.
Delhi Sultanate (1206–1526): Another period of beautifully carved stone. The Delhi sultanate had influence from the Islamic world, with heavy uses of mosaics, brackets, intricate mouldings, columns and and hypostyle halls.
Mughal Empire (1526–1857): Stonework was also important on the Mughal Empire. Intricately carved stonework was seen in the pillars, low relief panels depicting nature images and jalis (marble screens). Stonework was also decorated in a stye known as pietra dura/parchin kari with inscriptions and geometric designs using colored stones to create images. Tilework was also popular during this period. Moasic tiles were cut and fitted together to create larger patters while cuerda seca tiles were coloured tiles outlined with black.
Chinese Interiors
Common features of Chinese Interiors
Use of Colours: Colour in Chinese Interior is usually vibrant and bold. Red and Black are are traditional colours, meant to bring luck, happiness, power, knowledge and stability to the household.
Latticework: Lattices are a staple in Chinese interiors most often seen on shutters, screens, doors of cabinets snf even traditional beds.
Lacquer: Multiple coats of lacquer are applied to furniture or cabinets (now walls) and then carved. The skill is called Diaoqi (雕漆).
Decorative Screens: Screens are used to partition off part of a room. They are usually of carved wood, pained with very intricate murals.
Shrines: Spaces were reserved on the home to honour ancestors, usually consisting of an altar where offerings could be made.
Of course, Chinese Interiors are not all the same through the different eras. While some details and techniques were interchangeable through different dynasties, usually a dynasty had a notable style or deviation. These aren't all the dynasties of course but a few interesting examples.
Song Dynasty (960–1279): The Song Dynasty is known for its stonework. Sculpture was an important part of Song Dynasty interior. It was in this period than brick and stone work became the most used material. The Song Dynasty was also known for its very intricate attention to detail, paintings, and used tiles.
Ming Dynasty(1368–1644): Ceilings were adorned with cloisons usually featuring yellow reed work. The floors would be of flagstones usually of deep tones, mostly black. The Ming Dynasty favoured richly coloured silk hangings, tapestries and furnishings. Furniture was usually carved of darker woods, arrayed in a certain way to bring peace to the dwelling.
Han Dynasty (206 BC-220 AD): Interior walls were plastered and painted to show important figures and scenes. Lacquer, though it was discovered earlier, came into greater prominence with better skill in this era.
Tang Dynasty (618–907) : The colour palette is restrained, reserved. But the Tang dynasty is not without it's beauty. Earthenware reached it's peak in this era, many homes would display fine examples as well. The Tang dynasty is famous for its upturned eaves, the ceilings supported by timber columns mounted with metal or stone bases. Glazed tiles were popular in this era, either a fixed to the roof or decorating a screen wall.
Romanesque (6th -11th century/12th)
Romanesque Architecture is a span between the end of Roman Empire to the Gothic style. Taking inspiration from the Roman and Byzantine Empires, the Romanesque period incorporates many of the styles. The most common details are carved floral and foliage symbols with the stonework of the Romanesque buildings. Cable mouldings or twisted rope-like carvings would have framed doorways. As per the name, Romansque Interiors relied heavily on its love and admiration for Rome. The Romanesque style uses geometric shapes as statements using curves, circles snf arches. The colours would be clean and warm, focusing on minimal ornamentation.
Gothic Architecture (12th Century - 16th Century)
The Gothic style is what you think of when you think of old European cathedrals and probably one of the beautiful of the styles on this list and one of most recognisable. The Gothic style is a dramatic, opposing sight and one of the easiest to describe. Decoration in this era became more ornate, stonework began to sport carving and modelling in a way it did not before. The ceilings moved away from barreled vaults to quadripartite and sexpartite vaulting. Columns slimmed as other supportive structures were invented. Intricate stained glass windows began their popularity here. In Gothic structures, everything is very symmetrical and even.
Mediaeval (500 AD to 1500)
Interiors of mediaeval homes are not quite as drab as Hollywood likes to make out. Building materials may be hidden by plaster in rich homes, sometimes even painted. Floors were either dirt strewn with rushes or flagstones in larger homes. Stonework was popular, especially around fireplaces. Grand homes would be decorated with intricate woodwork, carved heraldic beasts and wall hangings of fine fabrics.
Renaissance (late 1300s-1600s)
The Renaissance was a period of great artistry and splendor. The revival of old styles injected symmetry and colour into the homes. Frescoes were back. Painted mouldings adorned the ceilings and walls. Furniture became more ornate, fixed with luxurious upholstery and fine carvings. Caryatids (pillars in the shape of women), grotesques, Roman and Greek images were used to spruce up the place. Floors began to become more intricate, with coloured stone and marble. Modelled stucco, sgraffiti arabesques (made by cutting lines through a layer of plaster or stucco to reveal an underlayer), and fine wall painting were used in brilliant combinations in the early part of the 16th century.
Tudor Interior (1485-1603)
The Tudor period is a starkly unique style within England and very recognisable. Windows were fixed with lattice work, usually casement. Stained glass was also in in this period, usually depicting figures and heraldic beasts. Rooms would be panelled with wood or plastered. Walls would be adorned with tapestries or embroidered hangings. Windows and furniture would be furnished with fine fabrics such as brocade. Floors would typically be of wood, sometimes strewn with rush matting mixed with fresh herbs and flowers to freshen the room.
Baroque (1600 to 1750)
The Baroque period was a time for splendor and for splashing the cash. The interior of a baroque room was usually intricate, usually of a light palette, featuring a very high ceiling heavy with detail. Furniture would choke the room, ornately carved and stitched with very high quality fabrics. The rooms would be full of art not limited to just paintings but also sculptures of marble or bronze, large intricate mirrors, moldings along the walls which may be heavily gilded, chandeliers and detailed paneling.
Victorian (1837-1901)
We think of the interiors of Victorian homes as dowdy and dark but that isn't true. The Victorians favoured tapestries, intricate rugs, decorated wallpaper, exquisitely furniture, and surprisingly, bright colour. Dyes were more widely available to people of all stations and the Victorians did not want for colour. Patterns and details were usually nature inspired, usually floral or vines. Walls could also be painted to mimic a building material such as wood or marble and most likely painted in rich tones. The Victorians were suckers for furniture, preferring them grandly carved with fine fabric usually embroidered or buttoned. And they did not believe in minimalism. If you could fit another piece of furniture in a room, it was going in there. Floors were almost eclusively wood laid with the previously mentioned rugs. But the Victorians did enjoy tiled floors but restricted them to entrances. The Victorians were quite in touch with their green thumbs so expect a lot of flowers and greenery inside. with various elaborately decorated patterned rugs. And remember, the Victorians loved to display as much wealth as they could. Every shelf, cabinet, case and ledge would be chocked full of ornaments and antiques.
Edwardian/The Gilded Age/Belle Epoque (1880s-1914)
This period (I've lumped them together for simplicity) began to move away from the deep tones and ornate patterns of the Victorian period. Colour became more neutral. Nature still had a place in design. Stained glass began to become popular, especially on lampshades and light fixtures. Embossing started to gain popularity and tile work began to expand from the entrance halls to other parts of the house. Furniture began to move away from dark wood, some families favouring breathable woods like wicker. The rooms would be less cluttered.
Art Deco (1920s-1930s)
The 1920s was a time of buzz and change. Gone were the refined tastes of the pre-war era and now the wow factor was in. Walls were smoother, buildings were sharper and more jagged, doorways and windows were decorated with reeding and fluting. Pastels were in, as was the heavy use of black and white, along with gold. Mirrors and glass were in, injecting light into rooms. Gold, silver, steel and chrome were used in furnishings and decor. Geometric shapes were a favourite design choice. Again, high quality and bold fabrics were used such as animal skins or colourful velvet. It was all a rejection of the Art Noveau movement, away from nature focusing on the man made.
Modernism (1930 - 1965)
Modernism came after the Art Deco movement. Fuss and feathers were out the door and now, practicality was in. Materials used are shown as they are, wood is not painted, metal is not coated. Bright colours were acceptable but neutral palettes were favoured. Interiors were open and favoured large windows. Furniture was practical, for use rather than the ornamentation, featuring plain details of any and geometric shapes. Away from Art Deco, everything is straight, linear and streamlined.
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help-itrappedmyself · 29 days
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Dead on Main AU
Masterpost
Guys, I'm so sorry. But here's this!
~~~~
Danny blinks and he is somewhere else. He’s sitting at a dining room table, surrounded. There are so many people here. They’re all talking over each other, some yelling, some laughing. This scene comes as a great surprise to him, who -one blink ago- was trying and failing to do his homework at home in his room. Danny shoots up, his chair making a horrible noise as he pushes it away so fast it tumbles over. Everyone in the room turns to look over at him like he’s insane. 
“Oh my god, who are you people?” Danny did not mean to say this out loud, but at the sound of his voice he startles. Danny takes a moment to assess, and then, “Oh my god who am I?”  He is tall, and big, and this is certainly not his body, what is he wearing.
The boy sitting to the right of Danny, a little shorter than he is, with black hair and blue eyes (though now that he’s paying attention that does describe most people in the room),  starts chuckling lightly. “Uh, Jason? Are you good?” 
Danny turns to stare him right in the eyes. “What day is it?”
And he can tell the concern around the table is just ratcheting up every time he opens his stupid mouth.
“Did you hit your head on patrol?” The voice comes from the only blond and one of the only girls in the room, who's to the left of the person across from him. The person across from him is another boy with black hair and blue eyes who is studying Danny in a way that makes him uncomfortable, that under-a-microscope look that makes you feel like you’re failing at something.
“I have no idea if Jason hit his head.” Danny says. “I was just trying to remember if it was my birthday.”
And if he thought the room was busy when he first arrived here it is absolute pandemonium now. Everyone starts shouting and asking questions that he can’t even hear over the shouting. Someone with white hair in a suit just came through a door he didn’t even see earlier to stand by the only person not shouting, who -Danny would guess- is the only other adult in this room, witting at the head of the table. He also has black hair and blue eyes, and where almost everyone else’s reaction was panic, he froze instead. The person across from Danny also isn’t shouting, but the person next to Danny on his right has now fully stood up and looks like he might actually jump across the table to win the argument he ended up in. 
“Are you Jason’s soulmate?” is the main gist of the shouting that Danny can interpret but he’s more concerned with actual Jason at the moment. If they switched bodies... Then Jason might be in trouble…
“Hey, I forget, how long is this body swap supposed to last again?” Danny asks.
“Until you and Jason have physical contact. You have to actually meet.” The boy sitting across from him explains. He seems like one of the only ones that heard Danny talk, everyone else was still shouting. 
“Oh, that just seems terrible. What if we’re in different countries or something?” Danny complained. “Everyone in the world is just supposed to be able to drop everything and afford to fly across the world. The universe is really trying to screw people over now. Honestly, am I in a different country? Where even are we right now?”
“You’re in Gotham.” This voice was new, coming from the head of the table to Danny’s right. 
“Oh no. Nope.” Danny started backing away from the table, almost tripping on his overturned chair. “Absolutely not, no, how do I get out of here?” He starts earnestly looking for a door to get out of this place, but there are three doors he can see and he has no idea where any of them go, and doesn’t this room have any windows? What kind of a room doesn’t have any windows? Do they like to eat in a basement?
“Jason- not Jason. Uh, you need to calm down, everything will be fine alright, We’ll get you and Jason introduced no problem.” Danny swivels to track the voice and it’s the one who was sitting next to him, he’s walking towards him with his hands up and out in front of him. 
“I have to get home.” Danny breathes. 
“We can get you there, promise. Now, I’m Dick, can you tell me your name?”
“Your name is Dick? Who named you Dick?” Danny is so confused he’s stopped panicking. “How old are you for you to go by the name Dick?”
“Okay, rude.” Dick sounds like a petulant child so Danny’s estimations for his age are continuously dropping. “I’m 24.”
Danny snorts. “Okay.” The blond girl starts laughing over at the table. “I’m uh, I’m Danny.”
“Nice to meet you. Sort of. I’m Tim.” The guy from across from him had made it over to stand next to Dick. “There’s a lot of us here today so the one laughing like a hyena is Steph. That one there is Duke.” African-American, still with black hair but he has brown eyes and waves once introduced. “Damian is the short one next to him, and Cass was sitting across from Dick earlier. Our dad, Jason’s dad-” 
“Not my dad!” Steph interrupted. Tim waves her off.
“Everyone but Steph's dad, is over there, Bruce. Alfred, our butler is the one next to him.” Alfred gives a slight nod to his head. Bruce is just staring at him.
“So, names out of the way. You said you wanted to go home, where do you live?”
“Amity Park.”
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lastflowerofyourhouse · 6 months
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something i like about nona's family is that they're so like, almost a perfect little nuclear family, and then just. not.
like. pyrrha is "the person who works for her" but also the one who makes breakfast and does the dishes. she's a woman quite literally posessing the body of a cis man and really leaning into the look, honorarily trans in both directions, working construction and shaving in the mornings and braiding nona's hair before school.
and then there's camilla, her...nagging wife? troublemaking older child? roomate who she barely gets along with? the fact that palamedes shares this role is doubly weird. he's a man literally posessing the body of a cis woman, and they're both pyrrha's nagging wife/problem child/roomate. i don't personally believe that anything explicitly or overtly sexual was happening between her and either of them, but i completely understand where people who think that are coming from. and it's fucking weird (affetionate?).
even nona occupies a weird place in this dynamic. like. pyrrha is definitely a parent to her but camilla, who takes a much more active role in her daily life, is...idk. nona has a crush on her and wants to marry her and adopt dogs. camilla's feelings for nona are more parental or older-sisterly, in that she cares for her and wants to protect her, and if her feelings are more complicated than that, it's because of the obvious aspects of the situation which make her extremely sad and apprehensive of the future. her affection for nona seems relatively simple.
and then there's palamedes, who is in theory another parental figure (see: camilla's "i'll talk to your mother later" face, or pyrrha's "you're going to make someone a really irritating wife one day, sextus"), but in nona's view of things he seems like something more along the lines of an older sibling, or perhaps a cool uncle, which is funny because pyrrha arguably treats him more like a spouse than she does camilla.
it's all just so fucking weird and jumbled up on itself. pyrrha will kiss camilla on the head and say "i'll be home for dinner, dear," and then turn around and call both her and nona "daddy's own treasures" (don't get me started). she'll kiss palamedes and camilla both on the mouth and tell them she loves them. she'll tell them she didn't love them well, or even wholesomely, and she won't explain what she means by wholesome.
alecto calls her "mother and father." alecto tells her she should've given into her urges and eaten them.
palamedes and camilla are second cousins and queerplatonic and married and the same person and by the start of the book the lines between them are already dissolving.
nona is so so young and she's so so old and she's not so much younger than camilla and she's older than pyrrha can even comprehend and some days she needs help getting her shirt over her head.
and most importantly they all love each other. it's a weird and confused and unhealthy love. it's a love full of tension and annoyance and fear. it's a love that wants very badly to fit a category and can't. but it's love it's love it's love and even when it's over even when it has nowhere left to go it's not gone it can't be gone. it's over it's done you can't take loved away.
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lgbtlunaverse · 6 months
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the wangxian + a-yuan "dads with an adopted son" thing is fine and enjoyable in fanfics honestly but I think we as a fandom are really not utilizing the idea of all of them in unconventional familial structures enough. Like, canonically it wasn't so much that wwx was a-yuan's guardian as that a-yuan was being raised collectively by the wens and wwx was adopted INTO the larger wen family. And lwj got attached to him through that. A-yuan just has these very attached weird uncles/older cousin figures that aren't related to him by blood at all but keep sticking around.
Just think of a modern AU with a lot less death where lwj does as he does in canon and keeps showering a-yuan in gifts as much as he can and when wwx is like "aiyah lan zhan you're gonna spoil him. Not everyone is as rich as you! What's his family supposed to say if they can't buy him all the stuff you do?" lwj just goes "Hm". And from then on out every year once a-yuan's birthday is near the extended Wen family members (well. the ones that are invited that is. No one wants wen chao at a birthday party) wakes up to a wechat payment from lwj.
Random wen cousin number 6 texts granny like
cousin 6: i just got 400 yuan????
granny: oh that's just wangji
cousin 6: i've never met this guy in my life???
granny: he wants you to buy a-yuan a nice birthday present!
cousin 6: how does he know my bank account???
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theramblingvoid · 1 year
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Low level/continuous pain tips for writing
Want to avoid the action movie effect and make your character's injuries have realistic lasting impacts? Have a sick character you're using as hurt/comfort fodder? Everyone has tips for how to write Dramatic Intense Agony, but the smaller human details of lasting or low-level discomfort are rarely written in. Here are a few pain mannerisms I like to use as reference:
General
Continuously gritted teeth (may cause headaches or additional jaw pain over time)
Irritability, increased sensitivity to lights, sounds, etc
Repetitive movements (fidgeting, unable to sit still, slight rocking or other habitual movement to self-soothe)
Soft groaning or whimpering, when pain increases or when others aren't around
Heavier breathing, panting, may be deeper or shallower than normal
Moving less quickly, resistant to unnecessary movement
Itching in the case of healing wounds
Subconsciously hunching around the pain (eg. slumped shoulders or bad posture for gut pain)
Using a hand to steady themself when walking past walls, counters, etc (also applies to illness)
Narration-wise: may not notice the pain was there until it's gone because they got so used to it, or may not realize how bad it was until it gets better
May stop mentioning it outright to other people unless they specifically ask or the pain increases
Limb pain
Subtly leaning on surfaces whenever possible to take weight off foot/leg pain
Rubbing sore spots while thinking or resting
Wincing and switching to using other limb frequently (new/forgettable pain) or developed habit of using non dominant limb for tasks (constant/long term pain)
Propping leg up when sitting to reduce inflammation
Holding arm closer to body/moving it less
Moving differently to avoid bending joints (eg. bending at the waist instead of the knees to pick something up)
Nausea/fever/non-pain discomfort
Many of the same things as above (groaning, leaning, differences in movement)
May avoid sudden movements or turning head for nausea
Urge to press up against cold surfaces for fever
Glazed eyes, fixed stare, may take longer to process words or get their attention
Shivering, shaking, loss of fine motor control
If you have any more details that you personally use to bring characters to life in these situations, I'd love to hear them! I'm always looking for ways to make my guys suffer more write people with more realism :)
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 9 months
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Get Souped!
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kittenintheden · 2 months
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You Can Read Me Anything Part 2
*ELMO ON FIRE GIF* so that took longer than anticipated but you know. HERE YOU GO. (thank you for all the wonderful comments on Part 1)!
***
Druidic Tav grew up in a nomadic clan that recorded their history through spoken word and song rather than written text. As such, she's illiterate, and one charming-ish vampire offers to help her with reading lessons and a whole lot more. Out of the goodness of his heart, of course.
Then one night, she unwittingly brings him smut for their lesson.
Rating: E Word Count: 5100 words Content: illiterate Tav, Astarion being a shit, but also being cute, innocent Tav, suggestive dialogue, blood drinking, biting kink, first time oral, cunnilingus, fellatio, PIV sex, Astarion playing himself
AO3 Link
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Astarion cradles her head, palm gently pressed to her cheek as she leans into it. She sighs and it tickles his ear, sending a dissipating wave of gooseflesh down the length of his back.
“Are you done yet?” Tav asks, voice breathy.
He hums and detaches from her neck, admiring the clean pair of fang marks he left there. His tongue swipes his bottom lip so he doesn’t waste a single drop of her blood. He releases her and takes a step back.
“You…” he says with a lazy smile as he reaches out with a finger to boop her nose. “... are so delicious.”
“Ha, ha,” she says with an affectionate eyeroll. She spreads her hand over the bite mark and calls on her connection to nature, using it to knit the flesh back together and restore her blood supply. “Glad to help.”
“I’ll bet you are,” he drawls at her with a wink. “Thank you for the appetizer. I’d best go find myself a full meal now.”
As he starts to saunter off deeper into the woods, Tav clicks her fingers and lightly bonks herself on the head. “Oh, almost forgot.” After him, she calls the Elvish phrase Shadowheart taught her.
For the first time since she met him at the site of the nautilus crash, she watches Astarion trip over his own feet.
He catches himself quickly, spine unusually straight as he puts his hands on his waist and takes a few more steps like he’d meant to do that the whole time. When he turns around to look at her, her smile fades when she notices his wide-eyed expression. The tips of his ears have gone very pink.
“Wha-” His voice cracks and he clears his throat and tries again, tone painfully casual. “What did you say?”
Tav grimaces. “Shit, did I get the middle part wrong? It was tricky when Shadowheart had me practice.”
Astarion leans forward a bit and gives a shaky laugh. “Ah. Right. I must’ve misunderstood. What were you trying to say?”
“She told me it meant, ‘I’m pleased to have provided you a good meal,’” Tav says, reaching up to pull some of her hair over her shoulder and fiddle with it.
“I see,” he says as he comes closer, his eyes searching her face. “Could you say it again? So I can correct your enunciation.”
“Oh, okay.” Tav gives a soft cough into her hand and repeats the phrase.
Astarion is close enough now that she sees his pupils dilate the tiniest bit. The flush at the tips of his ears spreads down the edges. Do they always do that after he feeds? They must.
He reaches delicate fingers up to cup her chin and draw her jaw down, parting her lips. His eyes are trained on her mouth and that makes her feel all too warm.
“Loosen your tongue,” he says softly. “Once more.”
She tries one more time and watches his eyelids flutter, inches from her own.
“There we go,” he whispers.
His gaze shifts to her neck again and he leans down toward it. She nearly stops him, but then she feels the draw of his tongue over the spot where he bit. He punctuates it with a soft, barely-perceptible press of his lips. A kiss, she might think, if she were a silly little girl. Which she certainly is not.
Then he’s standing straight again, releasing her face and putting space between them.
“Missed a smudge. Can’t let it go to waste.” His eyes rove over her face. “It’s so very precious.”
Then he walks off and she’s left standing there, cheeks hot and chest uncomfortably tight. Tav continues to run her fingers nervously through her hair as she turns and walks back toward their camp.
Astarion counts out fifty paces before he ducks behind a tree and leans his back heavily against it, letting out a shivery breath. He puts his cool fingers to his ears and tries to rub the heat out of them.
“Stop it,” he whispers to himself. “Stop it, stop it.”
---
Near the crumbling wreckage of a stone alter, Shadowheart kneels in prayer seeking guidance and direction from her Lady. The darkness, the loss, the silence… they are vast and answerless. She opens her eyes and takes a deep breath in and out. Clenches her right hand, glancing at the ever-present wound there.
If only she could remember… anything useful. No matter. For now, it’s whatever path will take her back to Baldur’s Gate.
She gathers her components and packs them away, standing to walk back down the path toward camp. There’s a trio of crumbling walls that clearly used to be some sort of holy building and she walks along one, trailing her fingers over the soft moss overgrowth.
Then she turns round the corner of the broken temple to find a bristling, broody vampire leaned up against the wall with his arms folded, glaring at her with a tic in his jaw. He raises an accusatory finger.
"You," he says, the word hard on his tongue. "Are an arsehole."
She gives him a smug smile and arches her brow. "You're a bigger arsehole."
He refolds his arm and narrows his eyes at her. “Really think you’re clever, don’t you.”
The cleric shrugs and cuts off to the side to walk back to the path. “The goal was to make you lose your cool. Seems like it worked.”
Silently and suddenly he’s walking at her side, lip curling in disdain. “Congratulations to you, you managed to annoy me. Don’t do it again.”
“Oh, he’s testy tonight,” she says, putting a hand to her cheek in a mockery of shock. “Maybe you’d feel less the fool if you hadn’t been teaching her to talk dirty.”
“We can’t all be ice queens, dear,” he sneers. “Some of us are queens with needs.”
Shadowheart rolls her eyes and her entire head along with it. “You should be thanking me, then. I gave you your opening.”
Astarion stops and she keeps on walking.
“To what?” he says.
“To have your ‘needs’ met,” she calls over her shoulder. “I’m not the one who was teaching her to invite me betwixt her thighs. Have a frustrating night.”
Astarion makes an affronted noise after her, pouts a moment, and then calls back, “Your bangs are wretched, by the way.”
She throws a rude gesture up at him and continues onward.
---
He plots and flirts for three days straight before he decides to make his move. Tav’s guard is down, her shy little moments are increasing in frequency, and he can literally hear her heartbeat quicken when he’s near. If that’s not all signs pointing to yes, he doesn’t know what is.
All he has to do is, you know. Make the move. Which he’ll do. Soon.
Because she still makes the most sense. The others all adore her, listen to her. She’s the perfect choice of protector should his vampirism prove a problem to anyone. She’ll say yes. Of course she’ll say yes.
… of course she’ll say yes. No one denies him. It doesn’t happen.
… it rarely happens. Not as if he’d care if it did, this time.
Astarion rocks his weight onto his back leg, flicking his gaze up to see Tav kneeling near the campfire and giving the dog a generous belly rub. Before she stops, he goes back to his extremely casual reading. Standing posed outside his tent. Holding a book with the title facing out. Very normal.
After what feels like an hour, his ears pick up approaching footsteps and he skims the page he’s on, waiting.
“Is that a new one?” Tav asks timidly.
He closes the book and looks up to meet her. His close-lipped smile feels almost natural. Almost.
“There you are,” he says, dropping his register a fraction. “I was just thinking about you.”
Not a lie, actually.
She tucks her hair behind one ear. “Oh? Do I owe you something?”
He laughs and sets his book aside. “Only a bit of your time. I do enjoy it so very much.”
Tav quirks her mouth up on one side. “Yeah? You’re pretty okay, too.”
“Better than okay, I should hope.” He closely examines his thumbnail. “I’m… growing to enjoy the whole package, honestly.”
She doesn’t immediately respond and he chances a look up at her.
“Deer in the magicked light” is what one might call the expression on her face. She blinks rapidly and gives her head a small shake before she looks to the side, color rising prettily in her cheeks.
“Is that so?” she says, giving a tight laugh.
His smile starts to go a little toothy and he dials it back. “I’ve been thinking an awful lot about our last reading lessons,” he lilts at her, peering up through his lashes. “And our language lessons. I’ve been pondering over what other sorts of lessons I could offer.”
Tav’s cheeks go pink to red.
He leans in to speak softly, making her lean in closer to be able to hear him. “I like you,” he says. “And I think you like me, too. So?”
“So, what?” she blurts, immediately grimacing at her own outburst.
A giggle bubbles up out of him before he can stop it and he puts a hand up in front of his mouth to hide his smile. When he regains control, he lowers his hand. “So, I thought you might like to indulge in certain curiosities with me.”
I want to go down on you.
Astarion blinks the thought away as soon as it appears in his head, briefly letting his smile slip before he snatches it back.
Tav is blushing furiously, but she leans in closer to him nonetheless to whisper, “Like what, exactly?”
Elvish, rising like the language of his dreams: I want to drink of your fountain.
He gives his head a light shake, playing it off with a mirthful huff as he says lowly, “Like sex, sweet thing. Whatever kind you might be… interested in.”
Tav nods rapidly and hums, slowly leaning back and standing at her full height again, not quite meeting his eye. “I was pretty sure that’s what you meant, but you know. Better safe than sorry? Is that a thing people say?”
Astarion reaches out to gently guide her chin toward him until she’s looking at him. “Think about it. If you’re amicable, you’ll find me later at the clearing where you last offered me a bite after the others are asleep.” He chucks her under the chin. “I’ll be waiting.”
She nods once more, expression unchanged. “Yeah. Yep. Okay. I’m going to… see you later. Maybe.” Then she turns on her heel and walks away.
“See you later,” he says. “Lover.”
When she disappears into the dark, he blows out a breath, subtly shaking his hands out. That was a yes.
Right?
“Of course it was,” he snipes at his own brain.
---
Hours later, Astarion paces the moonlit clearing, fiddling with the cuffed sleeve of his shirt. The others must be asleep by now. He pulls at the sleeve. It feels too tight.
Should he take the shirt off? He should just take the shirt off.
He does.
Astarion glances around the clearing once more, noting the blanket he spread on the ground nearby. Not a bed, but you know. He’s okay with that, actually.
He clenches and unclenches his fists, rolling his hands at the wrists. Cracking his neck. Rolling out his shoulders. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to be still. Controlled. Practiced. This is an act he’s performed thousands of times. This is no different.
It’s not.
She’s going to come out of those bushes any moment and-
The bushes he’s looking at actually rustle and he jumps, whispering “oh, shit” before he can stop himself. He manages to put a smile back on his face just as the leaves part and a small doe takes two hops into the clearing and freezes when it spots him.
Astarion doesn’t move. He doesn’t even breathe. The doe relaxes very slightly, flicking an ear.
It’s one of the little black-tailed deer native to the area. He’s made a meal of more than one of them in recent days. Her coat is smooth and healthy, her eyes brown and clear.
The doe blinks at him and takes a step closer.
He gives a relieved chuckle and says, “There you are, Tav.”
“Oh, you heard me? Damn,” says a voice from behind him.
“Ah-” he yells. He tries to cut off the sound, but it’s too late. The doe spooks and bounds off into the underbrush once again.
“Apologies,” he says, regaining his composure and rolling his eyes to the stars above. “She was such a pretty little thing that I assumed it was you.” He starts to turn. “But I’m glad you made it. I was starting to worry you’d gotten lost and…” He finally sets eyes on her and loses his smile immediately. “... and you’re already naked.”
Tav stands before him without a stitch on, her long hair hanging over her rounded breasts and everything from the waist down on full display. He spots her clothing and staff in a neat stack nearby. Her whole body is flushed.
Astarion swallows. He’s seen untold numbers of people in states of full undress. This is routine. She caught him off-guard, is all.
“I… was I not supposed to be?” Tav says, hands going up to run nervously through her draping hair. “Sorry, I thought… you said sex? And then I saw that you had your shirt off, so…”
He holds up a hand and ticks up his brows. “No, no, it’s fine. It’s fine! I like it.” He finds the mask, the posture, like muscle memory. Slips back into the person in control. “You’re just full of surprises, beautiful.”
Tav rewards him with a bashful smile, continuing to comb her hands through her hair.
Astarion huffs a laugh. He can’t help himself. He approaches her with slow, intentional steps. “I had a whole catalog of poetic nothings to whisper in your ear, but looks like I needn’t bother, which is fine by me.” He stops in front of her, smiling his charmer’s smile. “So long as you still want to be tasted.”
He’s starting to notice it’s a good sign when the apples of her cheeks turn red. She nods. “I’d like to try the tongue thing, yes, please.”
“Good,” he purrs, reaching for her hips.
He pulls her in for a sweet, well-executed stage kiss. Most people needed about that much before they got to what they were really with him for. He pulls back and gives her a tight-lipped smile.
Tav looks into his eyes, her lips parted. She’s not moving, and oh gods, he’s going to have to lead completely, isn’t he? Ah well. Such is life.
But then she tucks her chin, her gaze going heated. The pupils of her eyes flicker, changing shape ever so slightly, and Astarion hardly has time to drop his pretender’s smile and ask before she surges forward and kisses him back, throwing her arms around his neck.
Astarion gives a surprised “mmmn!” as he stumbles slightly under her vigor, but he corrects quickly, wrapping his arms around her ribcage and lifting her against his body. Her tongue runs along his mouth and she’s nipping, nipping, and-
There’s a sharp sting on his bottom lip and he releases her right as she pulls back from him, hands to her mouth and eyes wide as saucers. He reaches up to touch his lip and when he looks at his fingers, they show a smeared drop of blood. He blinks down at it, astounded.
He feels a snap deep inside him as the monster in him, the hunter, stirs at the sight and scent of blood.
“I’m so sorry,” Tav says, dropping her hands. “It’s a druid thing, we can get a little wild, I’m really sorry, I won’t do it again.”
Astarion licks at the cut on his lip and stares at her face, his breath heavy and his shoulders ever so slightly hunched. He can see the smallest bit of his blood at the corner of her mouth.
“Do it again,” he says with a voice like gravel as he scoops her bodily up and goes to his knees so he can set her on the ground.
He lays his body on top of hers and she gasps as his mouth covers hers, exploring and hungry. It doesn’t take long for her to return it in kind, arms wrapped around his shoulders and tangled in his hair. He can’t even bring himself to care when she’s making it look like.
Murkily, his brain reminds him why he’s actually here.
Astarion forces himself away from her mouth and she whines at him, a sound far more animalistic than humanoid, but he doesn’t stop trailing his lips down her body until he gets to her hips. He rolls himself up onto his knees and runs his palms up the tops of her legs from knee to thigh, coaxing them open so he can position himself between.
He looks at her face to find her gaze far less “startled doe” and far more “she-wolf in heat.” Her tongue darts out, licking her lip before she says, “People really like to do this?” Then, “You like to do this?”
Astarion positively grins, his pointed teeth showing through.
"Yes. Though it’s a pity this is your first experience," he says through his feral smile. "Because no one will ever best what I'm about to do to you."
“O-okay,” she stammers, clutching her fists close to her sides.
He purrs deep in his throat and puts his mouth to the inside of her knee, the tip of his tongue tracing a sensual line down her thigh, toward her center. He holds her eye the entire time and delights when her leg twitches.
When he nears the crease of her hip, he gives her a sharp nip and she growls at him, bucking her hips. He runs his tongue up along the crease until he reaches her hipbone, to which he gives a firm suck. As she attempts to roll her hips toward him, he spreads a palm over her hips and applies pressure to hold her down.
“Shall we check to see how you’ve kept your garden?” he says, looking at her from under his brows as he speaks.
In response, Tav giggles and slaps a hand over her mouth. Then nods.
She drops her hand to the ground and shakes her head, murmuring, “It can’t be that different, I’m sure it’s just like…” She shudders in a breath. “... just like…”
Astarion parts his lips and huffs out his breath against the slick skin at her core, already shining with want and anticipation. The sensation is a warming one.
Tav continues muttering to herself. “Books are full of all kinds of nonsense, I’m sure it’s-”
He flicks his tongue right over her clit.
“Ah,” she yelps, trying to buck her hips again. He doesn’t let her.
But he does flick again.
“Wha-” she says, thighs jerking on either side of Astarion’s head. “Why is-”
Astarion presses the flat of his tongue firmly at her entrance and draws it slowly all the way to the hood, teasing with the tip before he curls his tongue in slightly and dips back down to better open her inner labia.
“Holy hells,” Tav groans out, her chest arching up and the hands clawing the ground at either side of her growing actual claws.
He gives her another lap before pulling back to smolder at her. “And here I’ve only just started,” he says, voice silky.
“Holy hells,” Tav shouts to the sky this time.
Astarion huffs a laugh against her and goes back down, playing her with highly practiced skill. Full, long licks paired alongside firm draws over the swelling pearl at her center. She continues to buck ever now and again, but mostly she’s gone near boneless above him, head lolling lazily to either side and fingers weakly gripping the grass on either side of her.
When her breathing begins to stutter and he feels the flutter of her getting close, he finally moves his hand from her belly back down until he can get the angle right. He places the tips of his two middle fingers at her entrance so he doesn’t surprise her and glances up to see her eyes flutter open. She stares down at him from between the mounds of her breasts, pupils blown wide.
She licks her bottom lip.
She nods.
Astarion slides his fingers inside her and begins to pump in time with the movements of his mouth. Tav goes wild, both literally and figuratively. The pupils of the eyes watching him go slitted like a cat’s, gradually dilating back as her teeth go sharp and a random patterning of fur shivers down the length of her body before turning back to skin.
He takes that as a good sign and curls his fingers inside of her until he finds what he’s looking for.
Tav bark-mewl-roar-calls into the air above the clearing, her hips grinding into his mouth and hand now that she can move them again.
“Why does that…” she gasps. “Feel… so… good?” The last word comes out a growl.
He’d answer, but his mouth is preoccupied and he dare not let it leave its task.
With his free hand, he pushes her thigh up and guides it higher until she can wrap her leg round his shoulders and he can go deeper. He feels the swell of her under his tongue, going harder beneath his touch, and he begins to trace circles around it as he continues to pump his fingers into her.
Tav’s entire body rolls, trying to get closer, to get more, to get-
She howls as the tension finally snaps. Literally howls, from the very bottom of her chest.
Astarion slows but doesn’t stop, continuing to fuck her through it as he feels her release in the palm of his hand. He’s gentle, taking a touch of pity on her as he gives her a few more soft licks before he leaves her, drawing his fingers from her at the same time. They’re a mess, as is his face. He sits back on his knees and looks her over with lidded eyes, a self-satisfied half-grin on his face. Then he reaches into his pocket to produce a soft cloth to clean up.
He’s not much of a planner, but he plans enough for things like this.
Tav lolls on the ground, her body fully returned back to humanoid form. All except her pupils, which continue to occasionally flicker across the animal kingdom.
“Oh, that was good,” Astarion says, brows raised and grin on his face as he wipes his hand down. “Even for me, that was good. You’re welcome.”
She throws one arm out to her side, then the other, and slowly pushes herself up onto her elbows, trying to focus on him. “Why doesn’t… everybody do that? Oh my gods.” She flops back onto the ground.
Oh, she’s very good for his pride. He gives a pleased wiggle.
“You tell me,” he says. “Or call upon your old lovers and ask.”
Tav weakly waves her hand through the air. “They were bad. I’ve realized. Just now. They were bad at sex.”
“Poor thing,” Astarion croons. “All better now.”
“Yeah.” She rolls onto her side and sits up. Shakes out her head. And starts to crawl toward him.
He instinctively leans back as she comes closer, breasts swaying as she moves. “What are you doing?” he says.
She blinks at him. “I’m going to do it back.”
He blinks at her. “What?”
Tav draws her knees closer and matches his kneeling posture. “I’m going to put my mouth on you back.” She waits a beat. “If you want me to.”
“Uh,” Astarion breathes before he shakes himself and gets his wits back about him. “I would like that very much,” he says. He tries to purr it, but slightly lower in pitch is the best he can do.
It’s been years since he’s been with anyone who even bothered to ask. Probably decades.
Tav beams at him, a bright smile that’s so sunshiny it nearly betrays what they’ve just done. She rolls up onto her knees and pulls him by the wrists to do the same so she can reach the laces that hold his trousers on. His arousal pulses near her hands.
Astarion blinks. He’s… more into this than he usually is.
He blinks again.
He’s very into it, actually.
His fingers go to join hers and together they make quick work of his pants and underthings. Gently, she guides him back to kneeling again as she curls forward. Without thinking too much about it, he reaches out so he can hold her hair up out of her face. She’s at eye level with his cock, inspecting it with the eye of someone all too familiar with all the things nature has to offer and completely unashamed for it.
Astarion swallows back the wanting sound that tries to claw its way out of him.
“Have you done this before?” he asks softly.
Tav peers up at him from her position below and bends her legs at the knees, kicking her feet slowly through the air. She shakes her head “no” and something frozen inside him melts. Best ignore that. That’s a future-him problem.
“You are adorable,” he breathes. He finds he means it in the affectionate way rather than the condescending one, which is alarming. That’s another future-him problem.
Astarion clears his throat. “Same general practice applies here, really,” he says lightly.
Tav licks her lips and reaches out to touch him. Her fingers on him give him a little jolt to the solar plexus and he curls toward her on instinct before he catches himself.
“Tell me if there’s something I could do better,” she says, simply.
Then she licks along the underside of his cock and puffs her breath out across it, much in the same way he did to her.
He curls in toward her again and tightens the hand in her hair.
She puts her mouth over the head of him and he’s enveloped in warmth and oh, yes, he remembers this. This feels good. This feels very good.
Tav doesn’t get down very far before she backs up again. When she pulls off, he reaches a hand down to cup her jaw and draw it down, parting her lips.
“Loosen your tongue,” he whispers. “Once more.”
She does. She descends on him again, relaxing her jaw and loosening her tongue, taking him down deeper and deeper with each pass. Astarion means to watch and guide her, he does, but instead his head lolls back, eyes falling closed, and he smiles. A real smile.
It feels so bloody good. It feels good and he doesn’t have to… he can just be…
Tav hums a little with him mostly inside her mouth and he gasps from it, blinking back to the surface.
Oh, that’s too good.
He lets her go a few seconds more before he tightens the fingers in her hair once more to still her and gently guide her back. His chest heaves as her mouth leaves him, a string of saliva connecting them, and Astarion shudders forward.
“What’s wrong?” Tav asks, her eyes wide and concerned.
She can’t look at him like that. That’s not fair.
He lifts her beneath her arms and pulls her up toward him, her face to his, and kisses her again. She happily responds, catching his lower lip between hers and nipping once more.
Astarion groans.
Hands on her face, he breaks their kiss and tries to collect his scattered thoughts. It’s all hazed over with want. There was a reason for this, they were supposed to… he was supposed to…
“Why don’t we…” He loses the thought and swallows. Tries again. “Let’s find our mutual…”
Words, words, words, where are his words?
Astarion hisses through his teeth. “Oh, just… sex. Let’s have sex.”
“Oh,” Tav breathes, lips swollen and cheeks ruddy. “Okay.”
Whatever he had planned, which was not much, goes completely sideways as she simply climbs up onto his lap, reaches between them, and holds him steady so she can sink down onto him.
He’s so wholly unprepared for the suddenness and initiative of it that his eyes nearly roll back in his head before his mind catches up and he grips her hip with his hand, guiding her as he rolls up to meet her, his hips rhythmic, until their hips meet and he bottoms out.
Tav throws her arms around his shoulders and immediately begins to rock against him, her eyes closed and her joyous grin on her face. Astarion is doing his absolute best not to completely lose himself in her heat, her closeness, her scent.
Her pulse, oh, gods.
Astarion rocks himself up into her with steady rolls of his hips, tilting in to press his open lips to her neck with a moan.
“You can,” she gasps as she rides him. “You can bite, if you want.”
He’s not sure if the words he makes are language, but he does know he’s biting her and her blood washes over his tongue and he drinks lazily, sipping as he fucks into her at the same time. His mind is so unbelievably, blissfully bare of anything except how good, how hot, how much, how full, how winding winding winding-
Astarion pulls off her neck with a gasp almost on the edge of his orgasm. Automatically, he reaches between them and uses all the wiles of a skilled lockpick to send her spiraling over her ledge a second time before he furrows his brow, slams his eyes shut, and yells out as he climaxes, his spend spilling where he’s still buried deep.
“Oh, fuck,” he blurts before he can stop himself, nearly collapsing onto his side with Tav along for the ride. He slips out of her on the way down and immediately feels the mess they’ve just made.
Another future-him problem.
Tav casts a very half-hearted create water spell that at least rinses them off. She drapes herself over his chest, dopey smile plastered on her face. “You win,” she says. “I see what all the fuss is about now.”
“I bet you do,” he says breathily.
He’s grateful she’s not looking at his face as he struggles to hide the worry pulling at his expression. It’s future-him time, and future-him is having a moment.
He just had the best sex he can remember having in… that he can remember. With someone who will still be alive in the morning. And he likes her.
Oh, hells.
He likes her.
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seawaveleo · 10 months
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complimentary trash for the cleaning lady!
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jake sully + breeding/pregnancy kink hcs~
a bit of fluffy smut, enjoy lovelies <3
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song rec while reading: i see who you are - instrumental (björk)
• lying in each other's arms, sat not too far from the communal bonfire; you could see friends and family all around you from the secluded spot you were in
• most of the children were asleep at this late hour, but some gently sleeping babies and their mothers sat around the hearth, sharing stories with their sisters and brothers, mothers and fathers
• the dark of night contrasted with the warmth and yellowish hues from the burning embers, smiles and sleeping faces, alongside quiet laughs and chatter echoed off of the inner cave walls
• you'd felt especially restless all day, the only thought tiding you through the chores and work being this moment; sat with your head to jake's chest, nuzzled up into his neck; your face was turned ever so slightly to the side, taking in the sight before you
• usually the urge to fly, jump and run was enough to keep you distracted from this, but today the still of the little hours of the night with the steady beat of jake's heart was enough to remind you: this was home, and so was he
• the seed of hope in making it permanent had been developing as you immersed and integrated yourself more and more into the na'vi culture; your shared bond with jake only strengthening, and the yearning to share your love in new and more meaningful ways grew in your mind and heart
• looking out to the circle of na'vi huddled close together, sharing songs and stories, your eyes naturally inclined to those expecting; some mothers were yet to have their children of course, younger in stature and skin tone, their bellies swollen and full, usually their mates by their side; the sight made your heart flutter, and a small smile grace your features
• jake noticed this, of course; you'd been much quieter than usual, although the way your body relaxed into him intimated that this quiet was of no alarm - he'a merely been glancing down every so often to your form, curled up in his arms as he traced patterns on your hips and upper thighs
• your expression of an almost warm-hearted wistfulness caught him off-guard, though; usually you were asleep by now, breaths deeper and body heavier in his arms. this time your eyes were cast to the group sat about the fire nearby, your lips briefly pursing in thought only to grow back into a small smile
• using his index and middle fingers, jake ever so gently lifted your face up to his by your chin, taking in your softened sleepy features, whispering a quiet "...what's on your mind, babygirl?"
• sitting up a little further, you wrapped your arms around either side of his neck, lightly stroking the soft braid, brushing any stray hairs away from his face, behind his ears; jake's arms snaked their way around your waist, his eyes flicking up and down your form in curiosity
• you'd then proceeded to express what filled your thoughts; being human and working at the base in pandora, the probability of having any children was low. but your life was so different now; even your body was made of completely different components - all that was you was your mind, and whatever you wanted it to be was now up to you; unconstrained by human rules and physical limits
• at your words, jake made sure to listen closely; his earnest little tail flicks and swivelled ears making sure to pay attention, as you continued to express how you felt the increasing urge to have a family; and how the prospect of being pregnant was especially appealing to you
• the idea of being so claimed by someone, in such an intimate way; enough to change your whole body once more, not only for your baby, but for your mate. giving him a family, and the mutual respect and love that such a shared act represents, it made your heart swell
• jake's gently widened eyes and small open-mouthed smile only affirmed your words, giving you the confidence to continue, almost whispering your confession, "..i just...i want to have that with you, if you wanted it too...i don't have it in me to fight something so instinctual...i'd have your babies, i want them...with you."
• as you subtly began to gyrate your hips into his now slowly hardening length, jake's expression only deepened as he nodded along to you; your words almost washing over him and sending him into a trance. you wanted children, and to mother, and best of all..with him. you wanted his children
• paired with your now growing arousal, and lightly rocking your form against his, he could tell that this captivated you in more ways than one. his mind shifting from a place of pride and sentimentality, to that of lust and an intimate kind of eroticism at your proposed prospect
• he'd have no quarrel with fucking you deep, watching as you swell full with his child; jake sighed out at the thought, "ah, i see..must mean you want a daddy too, huh. a daddy and his babygirl, mmhm?", your now more desperate grinds only increased the heat between you, the proximity beginning to rile the both of you up
• "..yes..but really..w'na be a mama.." you'd let out, eyes flickering back and forth between his emerald orbs and the ground; your flustered form couldn't be masked even by the enthusiasm you showed at the idea of starting a family
• letting out a feigned-innocent hum of approval, jake nuzzled his face closer to yours, understanding what you really meant - maybe the family was in the future, but your current state: pussy wet, pupils dilated, hips circling hard into his cock, was more interested in the prospect of making the babies, rather than rearing them
• "..ahh, ok..so my babygirl wants to be a mommy, and wants mommy and daddy to make babies, am i right?..protect their family..take care of each other?..well shit, sweetheart", he'd keen, already knowing the answer through your eager nods, the little high-pitched whine that escaped your lips, and your eyebrows contorting in weakly hidden arousal
• jake was fully on board with this idea of course, but took great satisfaction in watching your squirms of pleasure at the fantasy; sliding a hand down to your cloth-covered entrance, he moved the material to the side, sliding in his swollen cock; there'd usually be more foreplay, but feeling how much of your juices were already dripping from you, he took little more time in riling you up
• making sure to be out of direct sight from those at the fire, he gently scooted both of you deeper into the shadowed corner of the cave; once fully-sheathed inside your clenching, wet pussy, jake began to gently pump in and out of you;
• hips bucking rhythmically into you, your hips matching his speed as you rode him in equal fervor; in between desperate chesty groans, jake continued to gasp out, "..ffuck..you w-want a baby, sweetheart? i'll give it to you, i'll give it...ah-ah, fffuck..",
• "so t-tight for me..must've really wanted this, hm?..mommy wants daddy's seed, deep inside, right? m'gonna fuck it nice and deep for you babygirl, don't worry..sh-shit..", as his hips pushed deeper into you, his head leaned back on the cold stone wall, eyes clasped shut from the way your pussy constricted around his pulsing length
• all the while your hushed moans echoed in his ears, as you wantonly nodded to his lustful words; knowing just how much you wanted his babies, he was going to make damn sure you got them.
:,)
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sprout-fics · 8 months
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Reprieve
(John Price x F! Reader)
(Breaking and Entering Epilogue)
Rating: General Audiences Wordcount: 2.2k Tags: Dad Price, Wife Reader, Fluff, Disgustingly sweet tooth rotting fluff, Some very minor angst, Price's adorable family, Gaz and Soap to the rescue, the boys take care of their captain, Cuddling, Uncle Gaz and Soap Warnings: None A/N: *Drops this and fucks off back to the woods*
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Early as Price tends to rise, it’s somehow the girls that wake before him.
He ends up in the desk chair after all, head tucked into his chest, snoozing into his beard, snoring in a way you’ll no doubt chide him for come morning. The soft light of dawn filters through the shades, and the illumination is enough to rouse his daughters, who awake and talk over your still sleeping form with giggling little whispers. 
Eventually they tire of their conversation, and try to rouse you. Still fatigued as you are after a restless night’s sleep, you only encourage them to go back to bed. Unsatisfied, they instead move on to Price, with his feet propped up on the edge of the bed, arms crossed and head down. 
Price has never been a heavy sleeper. The years in the field have trained it out of him. However, the wear of last night’s events press heavy on his shoulders even in slumber, the emotional drain of nearly losing the three of you sapping away the energy he had left after escorting you all to the safety of his quarters. Yet when his two girls giggle and hush each other, gently prod his socked feet still balancing on the bed, he cranes a single, bleary eye open at them, watching them hide smiles behind their hands. 
“Good morning, daddy.” The eldest offers cheerily, still quiet enough to not disturb you. 
Price drags in a long inhale, lifts his head to look at the gray softness of dawn that seeps through the window. 
“Morning indeed.” He offers with a grumble, voice still hoarse with sleep. He allows himself a few more moments before nodding to himself, lowering his feet so he can stretch. There’s more than one joint in his stiff body that pops, and it’s followed by a roll of his neck where the taut muscles of his spine collect, protesting his poor sleeping arrangement. It’s only after he’s finished settling himself that the younger of the two girls clambers into his lap, arranging herself so her nightgown partially covers her frigid legs before offering a pleased sigh. Price settles his arms around her, offering a few rubbing strokes to her legs to warm her and pressing a kiss into her hair.
The girls seem cheery enough, excited by the change in environment- a welcome distraction from the terror of the night before. As his youngest cuddles on his lap, her older sister peruses his bedroom, pokes at the intelligence papers on his desk that he really should have tucked away the night before, but doubts she will be able to read. Price watches her out of the corner of his eye, more focused on the sprawled, sleeping form of you still tucked in his bed. 
Despite all the years he’s spent with you, he never tires of the sight of you, soft and comfortable in his bed, splayed so your head falls against the pillow, eyes fluttered shut and lips parted in sleep. By all accounts you look like a fallen angel, strangely delicate and austere within the realm of your dreams. A warm, familiar fondness falls over Price, eyes softening as he regards you. The gratitude of seeing you safe, relaxed and comfortable after the traumatizing acts of last night is a soothing, needed balm to his frayed nerves as he recalls the sound of the gunshot that could have ended it all.
Yet before the thought can sink its tenterhooks into him any further he watches you stir, eyes shifting beneath your closed gaze before you tilt your head in his direction, instinctively seeking him out. The sudden wave of possession that washes over him at the sight is nearly startling, a fierce, almost untamable instinct that surprises even him. The fact that the first thing you look for in the morning is him sparks something sharp and almost primal- a need to protect, to defend, to shelter and provide. 
It only grows when your eyes focus on him, on the sight of your daughter curled on his lap, a fond, endearing smile tugging at your lips. 
God help him. He thinks, trying not to imagine the reality where he’s without you.
“Good morning, John.” You murmur, and the way Price’s chest clenches is nothing short of painful, a breathlessness stolen by the beautiful sight of you. 
He shifts, carefully deposits the little one on his lap onto the bed so he can brace himself above you, lowering a whiskery kiss down onto your cheek. 
“Good morning.” He replies, voice still dragging in his chest, and you hum, turn your head so you can press a chaste, lingering kiss onto his lips. There’s a distant part of him that wishes you two were alone, so he could allow himself to appreciate you in all the ways he desires. He makes a mental note that, when all of this is settled, to take you on a vacation somewhere for a few days. Just the two of you. 
The thought has to wait, because the youngest rolls over onto you with a little giggle, pleased at your wakefulness, seeking attention. You huff a little and drag her into your arms, offer her a little tickle that has her laughter grow louder. 
There’s a tug on Price’s shirt then, his oldest drawing his attention back to her pinched, pleading expression.
“Daddy, I’m hungry.” She tells him, and Price’s thoughts begin to activate in full, trying to summon logistics, schedules, supplies. 
“Right.” He mutters under his breath, a little lost, trying to find a compass amidst the unusual circumstances. You three can’t go back to the house yet, and the option of taking you down to the base cafeteria is…less than satisfying. Besides, Price doesn’t want his family wandering around the compound in view of God knows who, much less in their night clothes. Plus the girls will be restless soon enough, unaccustomed to this change in routine…
Price pinches the bridge of his nose with a stifled little groan. 
It’s at that moment that someone knocks on the door.
The four of you look up at the sound, and it takes only a moment for your eyes to flit over to him, a vague concern crossing your features. Price nods at you to stay put, gently pushes his eldest towards the bed as well. She gladly climbs into bed, instantly pestering you with questions about where they are, when they’ll get breakfast, who’s at the door.
Price focuses on his visitor, cracking the door open just a few inches to reveal the broadly smiling, sunny face of Soap on the other side. 
“Moooornin’ cap.” He drawls, and that tone speaks of things that are too much to deal with as soon as he’s woken up.
“Can it wait, Soap?” He asks sluggishly, and before Soap can respond a second face pops up beside him. Gaz.
“Actually, cap, we figured you and the girls might need a few things, so we…uh…took the liberty of making a supply run?”
Price blinks, then blinks again, opening the door a little wider as he processes. It’s only then that he notices the shopping bags carried by the two men, as well as a brown paper bag with a familiar logo printed on the front. 
“McDonalds!!” His eldest exclaims, leaping from bed and darting forward before tumbling to a stop at Price’s side, remembering her manners. 
“...Hello.” She offers shyly to the two towering men above her, partially hiding behind Price’s leg. 
Soap and Gaz look at each other. 
Then Soap bends down on one knee so he’s almost eye level with the young girl, offering a kind smile that somehow suits his features perfectly. 
“Hello, lass.” He offers quietly, so as not to startle her. “Glad tae meet ye. My name is Soap-” He pauses to gesture at the other sergeant standing above him a little awkwardly. “-and this is Gaz.”
“Soap?” His daughter giggles adorably, relaxing noticeably. “That’s a funny name.”
Soap grins. 
Then she tugs on Price’s pant leg, looking up at him pleadingly.
“Daddy can I?” She asks, imploring, eyes darting from him to the McDonald’s bag meaningfully. 
Price nods, still reeling a little from it all in his bleary state, and she squeals happily, snatches the happy meal from Soap’s hands and bounces back towards the bed. Price follows her with his gaze, where you’re now sat up against the headboard, looking just as bewildered as he feels. Your eyes dart from him to the men at the door, looking to Price for a cue on how to handle this strange circumstance.
“We also have some clothes and toys.” Gaz offers a bit timidly, the plastic bag rustling as he holds it aloft. He leans to peer past Price, looking at you. “Apologies, ma’am, had to guess your size.”
You shake your head, face falling open with gratitude. “Thank you…Gaz.” You try, and it makes Gaz straighten a little, pleased with himself. 
Price finds himself opening the door for the two, allowing them a rare entrance into his quarters as they deposit their supplies. Soap busies himself with assisting you, ensuring the girls are satisfied with their food, carefully offering you a change of clothes. Price watches him take the liberty of draping a brand new shawl about your shoulders, and then startling at the stormy, warning look on the captain’s face at getting too close, his hands raising in defense. You only laugh, murmur a thank you to Soap, weary but more appreciative than you can profess. 
Price is distracted by Gaz gently pushing a cup of coffee into his hands, a palm settling on his shoulder in a firm reassurance. 
“Ghost’s gone to see about some arrangements.” He tells his captain softly so you can’t hear. “Seeing if he can convince the base commander to get some temporary housing for you all.”
Price’s chest swells with an immense gratitude, one that chokes his throat. He offers only a numb little nod to his sergeant, who’s eyes soften in understanding. Yet then a wry sort of humor passes over his gaze. 
“He also didn’t want to spook the girls with his grim reaper get-up.” He adds, and Price nearly splutters on his coffee. Gaz laughs, claps him on the shoulder heartily.
Price sips his coffee, watching his two girls converse seriously over the toys included in their meals placed on your lap, with you carefully reminding them to thank the two sergeants once more. 
Soap comes up on his other side, giving the three of you some space, crossing his arms and tilting his head over to his captain. 
“What are their names?” He asks quietly, and Price glances at him out of the corner of his eyes at the mischievous little smirk pulling at the corner of Soap’s mouth. 
Price clears his throat, and one by one nods to the three most important girls in his life. 
“Mary.” He announces quietly, looking to his eldest. “Alice.” To her younger sister. 
And you. 
You, his beloved wife, his preciously kept secret, the thing that convinced him that maybe, in this world of evil and violence he lives in, that there’s still happiness left for him.
There’s a profound, blissful silence that washes over Price’s small quarters, beautiful and tender and far, far more than he deserves. There’s things he wants to say, wants to explain to the two men beside him, but the grace of their presence leaves him strangely wordless, faltering in his own attempts to speak. 
“Thank you.” He declares at last, voice a little choked in a way he knows they’ll tease him about later. 
“Always, cap.” Gaz declares beside him, equally soft, gracious and understanding. 
The silence settles once more, and Price watches you as you listen to something your youngest has said, head tilting back in twinkling laughter. You look at him then, and the utter adoration, the thankfulness and love in your eyes nearly sends him to his knees. 
“They’re beautiful.” Soap murmurs, only loud enough for Price to hear.
“They are.” Price agrees, swallowing down a thickness in his throat that rises with emotion. 
There are days sometimes where he has to convince himself what he does in his work is right, stares into his blood streaked palms and tells himself it’s to create a world where his girls can grow up safe. He reminds himself as he snaps bones, fires shot after shot, walks away from scarred battlefields wrought by his hands. 
By all means necessary, he thinks. Whatever it takes.
He’d burn the world to ashes to keep you all safe.
He doesn’t deserve you three, he knows that. It’s selfish of him to have this in the shadow of all the lives he’s taken, the things he’s destroyed. Yet despite the blood on his hands, the violence that’s long since weaved its way into his blood, you take him in your hands and lift him to your waiting lips, bestowing upon him endless grace and love that threatens to crack his heart open just so there’s another place to hold you.
Maybe he doesn’t deserve it. Maybe he hasn’t yet earned this thing before him, with your beautifully fond eyes looking down at the world the two of you have created. Despite it all, despite the things Price has done, the things he’s yet to do…
He wants it. 
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yaekko · 2 months
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Can't get enough of your writings from last place and also a HUGE Genshin/HonkaiStarRail stan. Quick request, if you don't mind and have time, Could you do a Dan Heng (Either form) or Zhongli with FemReader who is super shy about their body. SFW or NSFW would be great. Again, love your work. Hope to see more through the year :D
— dan heng, zhongli + fem!reader.
mdni. ( nonie pls read the tags ily ) both fluff and smut. dragon boys who don’t get human emotions that well yet wish nothing more than your happiness... cunilingus 😋.
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dan heng doesn’t understand why you’re so shy about your body, he only wishes you could see yourself through his eyes. see the perfection in your whole being and why his hands seem unable to be away from you for too long; he’s aware of your lack of self-confidence, and absolutely hates himself for not making you feel loved enough.
there is not a moment when dan heng’s hands aren’t touching you somehow, like a soft, tender rub on your back, a fleeting brush of his hands on your waist as you walk past him, and of course, multiple kisses placed on the patches of skin where your shirt doesn’t cover. utterly obsessed with you is what dan heng is.
intimately is the same, your lover takes his time in kissing you silly until you’re hazy and unable to tell him no when his hands take off your clothes, although, if you wished to remain clothed somehow, he would never deny that to you.
dan heng’s favorite part is letting his lips trace the whole expanse of your body, his pants tightening around his growing erection, painfully hard but wishing to satisfy you first, make you feel more comfortable while muttering sweet nothings against your skin where his lips lay and you shake in return, there’s bites on your thighs, licks and kisses, marks for you to see the following day and perhaps, loving your body a little bit more with the print of his love in your skin.
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on the other hand, Zhongli’s love language is through words more than actions, always finding himself cupping your cheeks and muttering how insanely gorgeous you are, how every single detail of your beautiful body drives him utterly insane, leaving you all flustered under his intense amber gaze.
there isn’t a day that passes where Zhongli isn’t eager to explore your body with his mouth and hands, slowly and steadily undoing your clothes under your lust filled eyes. “don’t do that, let me see you” he rasps when you cover yourself, slightly demanding and rough but not enough to scare you, staring at you from between your thighs with a piercing gaze that makes you whimper, letting your hands tangle on his hair while Zhongli’s tongue lick up your pretty pussy. although his favorite days are when you have those outbursts of confidence, still shyly taking off your clothes under his intense staring, it makes his cock pulse watching you so prettily crawl over his body, a smirk always plastered on his face that's half lust, and half adoration.
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a2zillustration · 3 months
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I've been waiting for an excuse to tell you why Croissant is called Croissant for SO LONG
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