#inibicion

[cryoniic]

plotted starter for @inibicion + dottore

𝑰𝒏 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔, heavy eyelids slowly lift, blinking in a state of awakening. Immediately feeling a weight at his wrists, he couldn't move much. A groan is heard as a throbbing headache becomes evident as he looks at a weak reflection on the floor. It was clear to him that his position wasn't ideal from the marble floor reflector that gave him a blurry vision of himself. Bloodied and bruised. He became quickly aware that he was not on the receiving end of a good night when an echo of boots caught his attention. He lifted his head slowly, only halfway, but it was enough. A familiar mask and attire greeted him, but he wasn't pleased to see it. Dottore.

He remembered drinking wine and being social at the event, but not what played between then and now. How did he get here? And where was here? Has he been targeted all evening? He smirks, despite knowing he was hardly in a position to make such comments. "You know... If you wanted some company, you could've just asked me nicely." The reason the doctor brought him here couldn't be good - and a flash of thought - Does he have Diluc? He didn't have to think much before prioritising the noble of Mondstadt, although he conceals his thoughts for now.

#inibicion #[ me at kay: i just think it would be a Nice time if we let Kaeya suffer y'know ] #[ us: weLL ]

[roleplay-abiogenesis2]

@inibicion liked for a starter! || For King Deshret~

Note: Deshret is (very likely) just an imaginary presence in this starter, unless you'd like him to exist in some more concrete form (as a ghost, spirit, time traveler, etc.). I am going off of personal headcanons that you can find here. Hmu in DMs for any changes or clarifications if you'd like to engage the starter! I hope you like it.

Another day to be forgotten someday, in the vast sea of memories a man was bound to outgrow and leave behind, to make room for other things. Responsibilities, duties, worries and fears.

But for the young boy that Cyno as at the time, the moment couldn't have been more special. He'd tried so many times to get through that little squeeze in the wall, of one of the biggest ruins he'd managed to find in his solo excursions - who was there to tell him no? - and he knew he'd grow someday. Too big to ever try again. Like the adventurer he dreamed to become, he'd seized the moment and tried, and tried some more. Sure, he'd acquired a few extra bruises in the process, but at last he was through.

The place was poorly lit, and the air felt a bit stale to breathe, but his lungs were young and strong. And the dark shadows of the corridors didn't scare him. He had all the company he needed to feel safe.

Even if people said it was all in his head.

"Al-Ahmar?" He called in question, listening to his own voice echo against the corners of the hall. His eyes were transfixed on the unmistakable depiction of his friend, painted on the wall in a scene that he did not quite understand. The figure held an object high before his eyes, while at his feet, many people sat on their knees and gazed up in his direction. Their arms were high towards the sky. Were they afraid? Or were they celebrating? It was hard to tell. There was something else, but time and wear had erased most of it to his eyes.

"What is going on here? I don't get it."

#gi01 || there is no escape for the guilty. [ic: cyno] #inibicion #v18 || genshin impact #to: || king deshret (genshin impact) #//hope this works~ #lemme know if you were hoping for something different #side eyes at dottore too~\\ #v16 || back in time

[aequitaes]

"𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆; 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 ?" / @ mr mushroom @inibicion + dottore.

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑 if it had come from someone without such a soured reputation among the Akademiya. Still, it was perfectly reasonable considering the situation of the withering causing threats to Sumeru. From him, however... As a result, he was left with a clueless expression, frustration - which he shared all too often with his roommate. Furthermore, not wishing to sound a way that might encourage this man to exploit him further. This much was certain: he did not trust him.

"What -- kind of question is that? Why does it concern you?"

He took a cautious step and twitched his fingers in a loosely closed fist state. There was almost a threat in it, as if he might use someone against him to get what he wanted. There was no rationalization or cooperation he was willing to engage in, not with him, not for anything in the world. However, as the conversation continued, his curiosity and concern increased.

#inibicion #sus sus susussss - what do you want Doctor man #certainly Nothing kaveh can help with #what are you hiding -- doNT HURT HIS FRIENDS #I'm watching you kay - both you and him #do not trust. >.> #「 Muse: Kaveh 」「 There's supposed to be a great view of the stars tonight. Don't you think that's a good omen? 」「 INBOX: REPLIED 」

[tenebriism]

His CHILDE senses are tingling. Adelinde, go get the shotgun---

#inibicion #[ he. hates. childe. it's on SIGHT with that man. #diluc might try to give off a threatening and unapproachable aura most occasions... #but he's ACTUALLY very sweet and kind. CHILDE THOUGH? #THE WEAPON IS OUT. FIRES A'BLAZIN' ] #muse ;; DILUC ( WIRE SHENANIGANS )

[inavagrant]

"would i lie to you?" The word lie drawn out a little more than was strictly necessary. A click of his tongue, followed by a hollow laugh. "Such distrust, my, my..." // dottore has chosen to be a menace today.. (:

It is the sight of the Isshin sword that beckons forth that tightly locked chest who's lock is far more fragile than it may look at a mere glance. The clanking of metal against metal on its quest to forge the pride and glory of Inazuma in the form of weapons accursed by the rage of the divine. The sparks they emit reflect upon his darkened eyes as he zeroes in on the cursed Isshin sword with obvious and clear corrupted and malicious influence radiating from it. The coughing of villagers echo midst his routinely catered ears, weeping from distraught fathers and/or mothers as they watched their young succumb to illness. The sixth harbinger's hand is upon the cursed sword before he even realizes that it is. Scaramouche is looking right at the fine blade, unperturbed by an energy he is all too familiar with at this point. More often than not that very thing circulates through his system, after all. One could easily wonder on why this sword is here, but that is not what Scaramouche wonders not even passing. In its blade he sees four people, four men, three of them dead, they have been hundreds of years ago now, and the other... the other?

"Did he...?" He suddenly questions, garnering the attention of the second harbinger. At first even Scaramouche isn't sure what he's trying to inquire, what he wants to ask. Why he hesitates to ask, it is unlike him to bite his tongue, but he does, because he's not prepared to simply swing that chest wholly open. Not yet, not like he wants to, and yet he feels a pressure, not from the sword, but from some unknown force he can not quite pinpoint on what it is, to ask. To be more clear. "You said," he begins again, cursed sword still in hand as he lowers it, "Niwa fled." He recounts the details that were said, a reality that implores him to remember how to breathe even if that is something he does not need. "Did he?" With the context, he questions again, his back turned to the second harbinger. It has been, but hundreds of years since and he should feel enraged that it's something that he has yet to fully unearth and let go. The thought of Niwa should enrage him as it has in the past many, many times just like Nagamasa and yet in this moment there is no anger, there is no rage, only the hollow despair that attaches itself to such disgusting emotions.

"..." The response he gets from Dottore is almost painfully predictable and he claims that is why he has no immediate retort. Niwa fleeing to cover his skin. "Heh," he laughs at his (own) expense, shaking his head. "Humans are truly such pitiful things." He sneers under his breath, placing the Isshin sword back to rest as the cracks on his façade stitch themselves back together, making the mask as pristine as the first day he put it on.

"I wouldn't put it past you to lie to me, Dottore." Turning to regard the Doctor properly, he disses back. "After all, you can be just as pitiful as any other human. The existence of your clones is a loud enough statement to that." He will forget this, this disgusting moment of weakness, he will forget this, he will ignore the why, the when, the how, and the question itself, of why he asked. He will not allow that to happen again. There is a time and place to lie, after all.

There is a time and a place to lie...

There is a time and a place to tell a lie...

There is a time... did you lie?

@inibicion

#inibicion #inquiries. #in character. #act ii; scaramouche. #a meNACE FR #the brain worms inside my head right now your hono r

[delusionaid]

cw: blood, injury, weird lab things

starter for @inibicion​​ | Dottore

The way to Dottore’s laboratory feels longer than Childe knows it to be but that’s not surprising, considering every step he takes requires twice as much energy as usual and his feverish mind draws out the hallway in front of him unnaturally. His gloved hand brushes along the wall to stabilize him as he walks, both physically and mentally, his mind focusing on the cold solid shape to keep itself from drifting. Perhaps he should have gone sooner to see the doctor, but until this morning he was confident his symptoms were owed to the injury he suffered on his most recent mission. It wasn’t until he noticed the gash on his side to keep reopening under the bandages and his blood coming out to quickly and not quite as red as it should be that he realized it was time for a check-up.

It’s a little cold and eerie inside the lab, faint sounds of bubbling liquids and buzzing machinery welcoming Childe as he steps inside. He doesn’t announce himself, assuming Dottore is aware of his return to the HQ, and when he finds him in the back of the lab there is no indication of surprise in the senior Harbinger. He is standing over a table, seemingly in thought, looking at a grotesquely twitching something lying in a large petri dish in front of him. From where Childe is standing it resembles a human heart except for the size and color. It looks more like something that came out of a vishap than a person.

“Dare I ask where you pulled that from, or why it is still alive?” Childe says in greeting, dragging himself over to the steel table near the wall. Most people would give that table (and perhaps the whole lab) a wide berth but Childe has been in and out of here so many times by now he’s successfully gotten rid of the unease that used to creep up on him whenever he walked in here in the beginning. With a bit of effort and a groan he pushes himself up to sit on the table, legs dangling off the edge, and his hand comes up to press against the wound at his side. He feels the heat and the dampness of the blood soaking his bandages beneath his jacket.

“I could use a little pick-me-up,” he continues, watching the thing on Dottore’s desk struggle pathetically. Sometimes he does wonder if he’ll end up like this one day. “I believe it’s time for my vitamin shot?”

#inibicion #p. inibicion #( m: childe. ) #( childe: inibicion. ) #childe: haha maybe i'll end up like that thing on his desk some day #also childe: time for another injection doc!! <3 #why is he stupid :)

[copertonehill]

Con y Sin.

Dos seres que parecen pero opuestos no lo son pues aunque en apariencia están en mundos diferentes  unidos lo estarán pues no importa el mundo o inframundo cuando en ellos se impone un profundo "sentir" que uno en vida el otro en muerte vinieron a buscar una ya no es la otra está en ése "limbo" donde se Es y No pero entre ellos "nació" ésa atracción que como imán les unió para eternidades tener uno que en sueño parece pero entre ellos acontece en milenio atrás cómo en ése presente y que en amor durará para siempre , no importa en qué condición pues en ellos no hay reparó o inibicion pues aunque uno pareciera que sentimiento no tiene" y la otra que ya no lo "sentirá" en su pálida piel en ambos un fuego que eterno será en ésa pasión milenaria que contar esa hora o día con sú noche ya no es necesaria pues Con o Sin vida o muerte su amor será ése que los llevé a esa lugar dónde ello no importará porque un amor "habrá" que encendido tendrá en ésa oscuridad un deseo apacionado como nunca lo habían probado por Con o Sin para ellos les fue otorgado por ése infinito donde la razón se perdió porque entre ellos el amor sempiterno nació.

-Copertone Hill, 2023®-

#books & libraries #writing #art #amor #pasión #dark poetry

[malcolmthunders]

ideas cuando estamos follando

la idea es, no una idea sino una sensación vivida, sobre la ual escribir, primero la sensacion de perdrse, de no tener inibiciones, pero es ma´s, es como enregarse, perderse, de un self, y concetandose o desprendiensoe, del self, y conectandose al primivto, no hay verguanza, veo prono mientras me doy el primero hulidita de popper, siento tambian la complicida l o que henslegih y yo hacemos, somo otrso sucios, sin cion no, alcanzamos a llegar a veces a esos estados de abandono, en los que no hay frontersas entre la dignidad y le placer, ,, dios qu manl, en fin.. 

y lo otro es escribir sobre esto, sobre esto secreto, todo el que haya tendio sexo salvajemnte, y esta concepcion pude variar, sabe que hay impulsos que corresponden a cada miebmbor, es más placentreo que el hombre domine a la mujere nen la cama. no se. si se

lo último, es los grados las diferencias tnre tener sexo de veredad cerdo, y sexo cariñoso y normal. un mañanreo, o sexo por la trade pero hoy comparmos popper y una esposas para amarralra a ella... y la cerdada, el transportarse, en ser otro, ese que no piensa si debria lamer un culo o chupar cierta parte del cuerpo o de meterlo y dejarseolo meter donde sea... la creativdida es un factor, por eso el sexo es motro del arte, no se, las personas con imaginacion, con ideas lo deben disfrutar ma´s y por lo tanto ser mas guarros, etar más liberados... 

[blogshakadevirgo]

Hola...bienvenido a mi vida antes de entrar favor de sacudirse todo el polvo de su "ex". En el cajón de la entrada puedes dejar tus prejuicios aquí se vive sin inibiciones. Disculpa el desorden la última persona que estuvo aquí se fue sin avisar, apenas estoy organizando todo. Puedes ayudarme a decorarla los dos haríamos un gran trabajo. La vida aqui es sin ataduras cuando guste puedes irte, sólo ten en cuenta que una vez afuera ya no hay entrada....

#cartasdeunenamorado

#zanz

[rompehimenes-blog]

Deseo conocer chica ardiente sin inibiciones sin compŕomiso mi numero 50242251779

[roleplay-abiogenesis2]

" clean yourself up. you're getting blood all over the place. " he wiped his hand on his coat with a grimace; such a disappointment. " I had rather thought that would have been the end of you; what a waste that would have been. " / dottore to cyno?

In death, a new cycle begins.

It was the first coherent thought Cyno's mind conjured upon drifting back into consciousness, and somewhere deep inside, he could've sworn it should've been his last.

He didn't remember how, where, or when, but one thing he was certain of: he should have been dead. He had expected to be. Accepted it in his final moments, even.

But the voice that stirred him into wake now with contempt and mocking was not of who he'd expected. He had not crossed the river on a golden boat. He did not stand before the Gods to be judged, with his heart placed upon the scale, weighing his sins and virtues to spell the ultimate fate of his soul: condemnation, or rebirth.

Nothing of the sort. This place was dark, and cold. And although the weakness and pain he felt slowly creeping throughout his body may have very well been akin to having his heart pulled out of his chest, Cyno could distinctly feel his own pulse drumming inside his ears.

He was alive, still. Or rather, again.

And the man standing over him was a sight far more frightening than any divine judicator he could have imagined.

The Harbinger, Il Dottore. His identification and presence opened a door of horrific questions in the Mahamatra's mind, of which only one managed to slither out into a weak whisper between sluggish lips.

"What... did you do...?"

#00j || that's what they said. [asked & answered] #inibicion #GI01 || There is no escape for the guilty. [IC: Cyno] #v18 || Genshin Impact #to: || il dottore (genshin impact) #//thank you for your patience! #was looking forward to this one~\\ #cw: blood

[marianajacqueline45]

Shania Twain - Man! I Feel Like a Woman 🎵 (Hombre! Me siento como una mujer!)  Voy a salir esta noche, me siento bien  voy a dejar todo colgado  quiero hacer algo de ruido, en verdad subir el tono de mi voz  Yeah, quiero chillar y gritar  Fuera inibiciones, no pongas condiciones  salte un poco de lo normal  no voy a actuar políticamente correcta  solo quiero tener un buen rato  La mejor cosa de ser una mujer  es la prerrogativa de tener un poco de diversión y    Oh, oh, oh, enloquésete totalmente, olvida que soy una dama  camisas de hombres, faldas cortas  Oh, oh, oh, realmente salvaje yeah, haciéndolo con estilo  Oh, oh, oh, actívate, siente la atracción  color de mi cabello, me atrevere  Oh, oh, oh, quiero ser libre yeah, para sentir de la forma en que me siento  Hombre! Me siento como una mujer!  Las chicas necesitan un descanso, esta noche lo vamos a tomar  La oportunidad de salir del pueblo  No necesitamos romance, solo queremos bailar  Vamos a dejar nuestro cabello suelto  La mejor cosa de ser una mujer  es la prerrogativa de tener un poco  Oh, oh, oh, enloquésete totalmente, olvida que soy una dama  camisas de hombres, faldas cortas  Oh, oh, oh, realmente salvaje yeah, haciéndolo con estilo  Oh, oh, oh, actívate, siente la atracción  color de mi cabello, me atrevere  Oh, oh, oh, quiero ser libre yeah, para sentir de la forma en que me siento  Hombre! Me siento como una mujer!  Me enloquezco totalmente  puedes sentirlo  ven, ven, ven aquí bebé  me siento como una mujer

[aequitaes]

Kay, it comes with a bit of regret and mostly humour, that you can no longer associate yourself with me — not knowingly — only in secret from now on 😔

#(: #inibicion

[delusionaid]

@inibicion sent: "Draw a monster." He says, his head tilted slightly. "Then tell me why it's a monster. While you may view it as such, others may not hold that same thought. What may be monstrous to you, may simply be a tired, tortured or beautiful soul to someone else. Isn't it funny how perspectives work?" // dottie to whoever (:

MONSTER.

The sound of his own voice whispering this word echoes in Alhaitham's ears, the shape of it familiar to his lips - and yet he has no recollection of the moment he said it, of the reason, or the person he said it to. Like an impossible memory it's burned into his senses but anchored to nothing, a shapeless horror lurking in the parts of his mind he can't access, close enough to make him break out in cold sweat but too far for him to see.

The man's words make sense and yet they don't. His thoughts are spinning in circles, spinning out of control, racing and stuttering at the same time. It's like an itch in his head that makes him want to drive his fingers into his skull and pull them out, make them stop. He needs to focus and understand; simply look at every word, every statement one by one, tie them together.. but he can't. He's confused, so confused..

The sensation of his hands trembling makes him look down but he finds them calm as ever, a paper in them that he doesn't remember picking up. It's a submission for a research project - something about the desert - the writing blurring before Alhaitham's eyes. His heart must be beating twice as fast as it should; it makes the blood rush in his ears, drive a heat to his neck that forms an uncomfortable contrast with the cold sweat on his skin. He's alone in his office. There's someone there with him.

Who is the monster in his room?

"Truth serves no master.." Alhaitham mumbles when it crosses his mind. Ah yes, he was about to answer the question, was he not? But what perspective is he to take on this? Will a monster ever see itself as one? Does that very recognition not negate its own truth? As quickly as these thoughts came to him they disappear again, running through his fingers like sand. He looks down at his trembling hands, wondering why they're wet, his wrists aching like the bones inside them have become brittle over night. The room he's in is cold and dark, the scent of moss and mushrooms hanging heavily in the air and mingling with that of burning oil and something acidic. It's sickening.

No.. He's in his office and he's by himself. The form in his hands was submitted today. Why is he looking at it now? There is a pile of submissions from last week he hasn't been able to examine yet.

The man's steps are quieted by the carpet as he walks around Alhaitham's chair. It's uncomfortable to feel him move behind him, threatening, but he cannot turn around. It's like he's tied to the chair but when he looks down there's no rope or chain to hold him back. His heart is pounding in his chest. He's so afraid he can't breathe.

But there is nothing there to be afraid of. He's alone in his office.

The room flickers- no, the flame of the candle flickers. Someone must have forgotten to put out the lamps outside, the scent of burning oil is coming in through the window. There's a hand on his shoulder and a word in his ear and Alhaitham breathes deeply for what feels like the first time in hours. The air is clean, the pleasant and familiar smell of old books filling it. He remembers. The submission in his hands is time-sensitive, he will make an exception. Picking up a pen he makes a note on the paper and places it on the pile to his left - the much smaller pile of approved applications. Outside the sky has turned dark, who knows how long ago.

Alhaitham gets up from his desk and walks towards the door. Gripped by a sudden feeling he twirls around to face the empty office, a shiver running down his spine. Draw a monster. There's no one there. His hands are calm and steady at his sides. The feeling of someone smiling at him from behind a mask is sticking to him like honey.

"What are you doing to me?" he asks the empty room - or did he just think it?

#inibicion #m. inibicion #( meme reply. ) #( ic asks. ) #( m: alhaitham. ) #( alhaitham: inibicion. ) #v. aegrescit medendo #me: how do i get across how mindfucked alhaitham is in this moment #me: imma david lynch this #fir/e walk with me kay

[copertonehill]

Cristal.

Pareja se encuentra en un toma y daca en una pasión que gemidos sacá provocando que en cristal tome partido y la exitacion se transforma el gotas de exaltación en una escena sensual entre dos que en ése cristal externan ese efusivo reencuentro donde labios recorren ése cuerpo y lo llena de una pasión que en él provoca ésa figura que con sus manos explora para ése deleite carnal que en ambos se dará provocando gemidos de ése placer singular entre dos que a ésa aventura en una hora que para ellos no desearan tener final porque su amor es tal cual sin inibiciones en ése ya húmedo cristal de pasiones.

-Copertone Hill, 2022®-

#books & libraries #writing #art #amor #pasión #mujer #pareja

[rompehimenes-blog]

Deseo conocer chica ardiente sin inibiciones ni compromisos lo que paso paso si hoy te vi mañana no te conozco mi numero 50242251779 rompehimenes