#this song always reminds me of corpse party

[sad-drake-lyrics]

somewhere in the end we're all insane to think a light ahead can save us from this grave that's in the end of all this pain in the night ahead there's a light up on this

house on a hill the living, living still their intention is to kill and they will, they will but the children are doing finei think about them all the time until they drink the wine and they will, they will, they will

#this song always reminds me of corpse party #music #lyrics #the pretty reckless #house on a hill #taylor momsen #ayumi shinozaki #shinozaki ayumi #corpse party #gothic #goth rock #Youtube

[red-dyed-sarumane]

what are some cool games u have played? dont matter if u mentioned before. tell me again tell me again :D

uhh hmm.

well okami is my all time favorite the art & the music & the message/story are all just incredible theres not a single time ive finished it i havent cried. i absolutely adore ryoshima coast ive spent so many hours just running around there to listen to music. which fun fact for u i only know about this game bc in about 6th grade i picked up okamiden bc i thought the little doggy was cute & was like fine i'll play as this boy if i get a cool dog and u cannot imagine how excited i was to find out u DID play as the little dog. i was SOOOOO obsessed literally my exact thoughts were 'if issun is ammy's celestial envoy then i am going to be chibis' i have a metric fuck ton of fan art i did at the time bc i thought it was quote "the epic-est game for ds ever" also cried every time i finished it. i was 13 so i didnt know what "being down bad" was but do know i was as obsessed with kurow as i was with d-ne later and now tenshi not a single irl friend was unaware i was in love with him. also fun fact for u bc at the same time i was also getting super into vocaloid i was so convinced my vocap name would end up as chibiP to the point i named myself that in pkmn x chibiP after chibiterasu of course. please enjoy my banger old art which is not even a fraction of my output

yume nikki is my next favorite game specifically the og that changed my brain chemistry as a kid. i adore that game so much its hard to put it into words. its just so unlike anything else. there is absolutely nothing in the game that can directly harm u theres no real health meter theres no way to die during the main play the absolute worst that will ever happen is u get stuck or woken up. in a horror game. which is already just amazing. and the whole horror aspect just plays on something i dont think is often done as well in many other things. ur alone. u wander and wander thru worlds that loop and connect and seemingly have nothing to do with each other. theres no dialogue; talking to npcs just gets u a noise or animation at best. ur entirely alone with just urself. its all dreams so u know everything is of madotsuki's own creation, another layer to the all u have is urself feeling. the art is just unusual i cant even say any of it on its own is in anyway scary. the whole thing shouldnt be scary and yet every time i start wandering in a world i cant help but feel unease. amazing 10/10 no other game will ever have what this gave me.

everyone knows i play pkmn the best is still pmd sky that also rewired my brain i still cant play it without crying.

its been a long time since i was really just playing it as the chapters released & got translated but 1bitheart is so so so important to me too. i dont kin for multiple reasons but if i did nanashi would be my first choice. like- without saying that to her i got my one irl friend to play once & when she saw how nanashi was she turned to me and went "this is just you" hes very important to me even now. absolutely loved the whole friendship sim & the story & its twists & the endings & their implications left me in shambles at 1 am on a school night. my fave charas are nanashi enri & saaya btw. i should replay this.

i also love the etrian odyssey series i love the character portraits (esp with the more recent games' color customization) i LOVE the dungeon art & i think all the monster designs are so cool. adore the whole make ur own map aspect keeps me so entertained to take a step & look around & chart all the walls & path ways. unfortunately i fucking suck at every single one i am not very good at strategy games so i end up stuck at or before the 3rd stratum. but thats okay its still fun to me.

the other one i'll talk about at length is spirit of the north another game i loved the art of. u play as a fox & get a partner spirit fox & i just love it SOOOO much. its also a game with 0 dialogue but theres A Lot going on it if u care to follow along & explore & dig into details & the game play is also pretty fun to me. this is the one game i started learning the speedrun btw thats also a very fun way to play it but ABSOLUTELY play it as intended first it has so much to offer

aaaand special mentions to omori, oneshot, witch's house, mermaid swamp, corpse party, & limbus company

#asks #kuki #idk if id say omori was good storywise but it WAS fun & i loved the portrayal of escapism #i love the ethical dilemma of oneshot #everyone loves witchs house. tragic story. #there was something in particular about mermaid swamp that made it memorable but i have to play it again its been years #corpse party also hits on something in the 'ur alone and trapped' feeling that i really like. cant say its actually good tho #& limbus is so fucking hard FUCK the spicebush fight PLEASE just let me overlevel w corp ryoshu so she can sweep & i can progress- #ah but the story is equal levels fucked up & horrifying and also the funniest thing i have ever read in my life. emotional whiplash. love i #i also played the mogeko games in high school those were something. i really liked memoca from wadanohara & moge-ko from mogeko castle #im not actually a gamer sorry i dont play much. i mostly just play pkmn #and proseka. but i dont care about anyone but 25ji & i cant read their stories bc they trigger me so i just tappy tap to songs #this reminds me i still have to catch up on hte maigoen game. wasnt doing well when it released but i might be able to handle that now #the. kanata chapter i think it is. i played the others. bgm is always so good thank u nilfruits im pretty sure thats who does it #and of course as soon as kamitsubaki city ensemble releases i will be playing that. & u will be hearing about it #bc ill get mad they make rime & friends cry #thisbis so long sorry

[hauntedwitch04]

HALLOWEEN PARTY

Hi and welcome for the second edition of my halloween party. The first one was very liked, so I thought of making a new one this year. Hope you enjoy it.

Requests are open I Ask

My masterlist

Join the Taglist

Buy me a coffee - Patreon submission

DAY 1: “Take my sweater, I love you and i don’t want you to transform into a popsicle” with Remus Lupin 

DAY 2: “You really did this for me?” "I made one for every single person I love, but your is the one I did first because you were the first I thought about." with Steve Harrington 

DAY 3: “Please kill that fucking spider” “Love, you know it’s fake right?” with Cassian 

DAY 4: “Eat some more soup, it will make you feel better. This is my James mother’s recipe.” “Fuck, love this is delicious.” with Sirius Black 

DAY 5: “I don’t need paradise, mine is right here with you, cooking a pie while you dance and sing an old rock song, dreaming about our future” with Dean Winchester 

DAY 6: “I got some leaves on my way here for you, they are really pretty” with Andrew Garfield 

DAY 7: “Love I swear if you light another candle our house may go on fire.” with Nyx Acheron 

DAY 8: “I have a skeleton in my closet.” “Everyone have them, love.” “No I mean literally” with James Potter 

DAY 9: “Did you really gift me an owl?” “You love the little one from Harry Potter, so i thought it would be a good gift.” with modern!Rhys 

DAY 10:  “Sweety, we are too old to play trick-or-treating.” “That’s a lie, you are never too old for it.” with Regulus Black 

DAY 11: “Look what I got from the shop down the street” “Another coat, seriously?” with Sam Winchester 

DAY 12:  “Your pumpkin is making heart eyes to mine.” with Eris Vanserra 

DAY 13:  “Oh my God, please save me from this ghost” “Love your Ghostbuster is coming” with Ben Barnes 

DAY 14: “Some friendships are like candles: they burn bright for a while and then they die because of a little wind.” with Azriel 

DAY 15: “There is someone there, you think we have to help him” “It’s a scarecrow” “I think I just had a heartache.” with Sirius Black 

DAY 16: “I love this oil lamp. How did you know it?” “I love you, and I know you, so I know you are into witchy things.” with Dean Winchester 

DAY 17: “Look mommy, a fox. Why are you crying mommy?” “Because it reminds me of your daddy.” with Eris Vanserra 

DAY 18: “You know we are not in a crime book right.” “Don’t ruin my moment. My time to be Sherlock Holmes has arrived.” with Sam Winchester 

DAY 19: “I’m not gonna watch another fucking horror movie with you” “Don’t worry darling, you have your hero by your side.” “Love, I don’t have to remind you that you are the one screaming the most right?” with Remus Lupin

DAY 20: “We are not gonna bring that black cat home.And don’t even try to make me the puppy eyes, this time won’t work. I’m over your spell witch.” with Nyx Acheron 

DAY 21: “What are these rocks?” “They are runes stones.” “Babe, since when you are a witch.” with Timothee Chamalet 

DAY 22: “We are not gonna watch Bride Corpse another time.” “You love that movie too, dont’ lie to me moose.” “Love, we already watched it like five times in two days!” with Sam Winchester 

DAY 23: “I never saw someone loving the moon like you do.” “You know what I love most about the moon? It reminds me of you, of your eyes.” with Rhys 

DAY 24: “Why are there three pumpkins? We always make pumpkin, one for you and one for me.” “Well I want to practice since, from next year we are gonna be three.” with Steve Harrington 

DAY 25: “Wow, what is that on your neck? Oh my god, it’s a bite! Did a vampire bite you? Are you going to be like Dracula? Oh my god, oh my God! That’s so cool!” “No man, another animal bit me: my girlfriend.” with Regulus Black 

DAY 26: “You are never gonna touch another drop of alcohol in front of me, you look possessed.” with James Potter

DAY 27: “Tell me a spooky story” “Love, if you don’t sleep another night because I scared you, your mum is gonna kill me.” with Cassian 

DAY 28: “Oh my god, you are bleeding!” “Love calms down, it's fake.” “You are a horrible person.” with Azriel 

DAY 29: “Boo!” “Fuck you” with Dean Winchester 

DAY 30: "Love, why are you crying?” “Neil didn’t deserve it.” “We already talked about this: you can’t watch that movie alone.” “But it’s one of my favorites.” with Remus Lupin

DAY 31: Halloween Party with College AU!Every fandom

#hauntedwitch04's writing #acotar x reader #imagine acotar #azriel x reader #marauders x reader #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #nyx acheron x reader #regulus black x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #steve harrington x reader #eris x reader #supernatural x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #remus lupin x reader

[alloftheimagines]

tess servopoulos | birthday

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST | KO-FI

words: 2.9k

warnings: 18+. minors dni.

smut with plot. fingering (reader receiving because we all know tess is a giver). hurt/comfort. apocalypse-induced depression, mentions of death, corpses, grief. reese's chocolate is consumed.

request: Can I request something for Tess?! Something domestic with hurt/comfort and I little bit of smut if you are comfortable with it, I just LOVE your writing and I know that you would do an amazing job 🥺.

You hate birthdays. There was a time, of course, when that wasn’t the case; a time when your family got together with gifts and cake and candles and songs, cameras flashing, barbecue smoking, sun setting over your garden so the banners you'd protested against glinted. But there is nothing to celebrate these days, least of all today. There are too many memories, too many ghosts following you wherever you go. Flashes of your first post-outbreak birthday, when your sister had tried so hard to find a cake that she’d been beaten for breaking curfew, and instead of a party you’d wiped blood from her face. Of course, that wasn’t the worst one. Not even close. The year after, she was gone and you were making your way from city to city alone, birthday all but forgotten until you’d arrived at a QZ and saw the date. Ever since, you’ve tried to ignore the passing of time, tried to avoid anything that reminds you of the person you were before all this began. It’s too painful. 

Still, it’s impossible not to be swallowed by grief each year. Impossible not to pay attention to that burning emptiness in your chest that was once reserved for good things. Normal things. To top it off, your day was awful. You’re exhausted, nauseous, and debilitated by a pounding headache that came on amongst the heat and smoke of the day. A day spent piling bodies up like they weren’t once people. You’d come across a kid who’d looked just like your late niece, and suddenly you were battling anxiety. You still are, eight hours later. You sit now in your apartment with the lights off, paralysed on the couch because you don’t have the strength to get up and collapse onto your bed. You’re afraid that sleeping will only bring more memories, and you can’t handle any more. 

It doesn’t surprise you much when the door opens, and you know without looking that the silhouette at the threshold is Tess. You close your eyes, dread seeping through you. You don’t usually let her see you like this, but since you spend most nights together these days, it's no longer easy to avoid her. 

“Hey. Why are you sitting here in the dark?” She flicks on the only lamp in your apartment, standing between the kitchen and the living room. When she sees you, she pauses in her tracks. “Y’okay?”

“Hm-mmm.” It’s the best attempt at a lie you can offer, and it seems to satisfy her for just a moment as she kisses your forehead. 

But then she frowns, her touch on your clenched jaw lingering as her scrutiny scorches your face. “Wanna try that again?”

“I’m just tired,” you say. “How’d the job go?” Considering she appears unscathed, you can only assume well. It’s another reason she’s here most nights; easier to sneak into your apartment after curfew than her own a couple blocks down. 

“Fine. Good as can be expected.” She shrugs and sits down beside you, still unwilling to look away. After kicking off her shoes, she begins smoothing your hair off your face. Her touch is gentle, which once surprised you but now doesn’t. 

Your breath hitches in your throat at the warmth it brings, even now. Instead of chasing all of your feelings away, though, it only intensifies them, and you find a lump building in your throat. 

“Hey.” She takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. “Talk to me.”

You can only shake your head, closing your eyes in fear that your tears will leak out otherwise. You know she wouldn’t judge you, but it still makes you feel weak. Tess has always just carried on, never buckling under pain or exhaustion. You… You have more nights like this than you’d care to admit, usually brought on by the corpses you carry day in, day out, and the faces you mistake for others'. You’ve tried to find a different job, but you’re still relatively young and able, and that means you’re stuck in manual labour until your back gives out or you croak. 

Tess sighs and pulls you into her chest, placing kisses into your dust-caked hair. “I know. Birthdays suck, right?”

You’re so surprised that the tears are staunched for a moment, and you pull away to glance up at her. “How’d you know?”

“Oh, c’mon. It’s on your ration card.”

Still, the fact she’d taken notice at all… well, for a moment, a flicker of something easier to cope with rushes through you. 

“I got you a present,” she said, digging through her shirt pocket — and pulling out a pack of your favourite chocolate, Reese’s. “It may or may not be two years out of date, but it’ll have to do.”

“Tess…” You take the chocolate, relishing in the way the plastic packaging feels against your fingers. You haven’t seen chocolate in a hell of a long time, and the sight of the bright orange and the promise of peanut butter cups inside makes you want to cry. “How the hell did you get this?”

Tess shrugs. “I have my ways.” 

You dare not ask what those might be, afraid of what and who she might have paid just to make you happy. Instead, you hug her, breathing in her musky night-air scent as your eyes begin to throb. You’re going to cry, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do to stop it. 

“Thank you,” is all you can whisper shakily.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Tess replies, drawing circles at the nape of your neck. “D’you eat tonight?”

Warily, you shake your head. As happy as you are about the chocolate, you’re not sure you have the appetite for anything. Better you save it until you’ll really enjoy it. 

“It was a hot day. You need something to keep you going.” She pats your thigh before getting up and searching your cupboards. There isn’t much; you’ve been getting by on shitty rations despite all your work, and Tess is usually the one to stock up on food with whatever she gets from smuggling. “What are you in the mood for?” she asks now. “Spaghetti? Mac ‘n’ cheese? We’ve still got that bread I picked up yesterday, too.”

You don’t know how to tell her that you don’t want any of it. That eating something from a tin, or even a stale loaf of bread, just makes you remember those burgers your dad used to burn on the barbecue, or the cake your sister made special. For one night, you just need to not exist. You need to turn the light off again and forget. But with Tess here, you can’t, and you can’t ask her to leave now. Not during curfew. 

“I think maybe I’m just going to get an early night,” you decide on. “Is that okay?”

Tess turns from the cupboards, that same look of concern hardening her features again. She takes a moment before responding. “I hate it when you shut me out, y’know.”

Guilt eats at you, and you run a hand across your face — but you know it isn’t fair. Tess is honest, blunt even sometimes, but she holds her cards close to her chest too. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

“I don’t know either. I’m just… I’m worried, and I want you to let me in. I mean, is this about me? Do you not… want me here right now? ‘Cos I can leave—”

“You can’t leave, Tess. It’s past curfew,” you snap. 

“If you want me to fuckin’ go, I’ll go.” Her voice is suddenly hostile, and it takes a moment for realisation to dawn. She’s reading your behaviour as rejection, coldness. 

God, it’s been a long time since you’ve had to think about how your actions impact the people closest to you, mostly because you haven’t let many people near. But Tess wormed her way in, first into your bed and then into your heart, and… shit, she brought you fucking Reese’s. She deserves better than to think this is her problem.

“That’s not what I want,” you say, voice cracking as you realise how true it is. As much as you’d like to sit in the darkness, she makes everything better. Easier. You don’t want her gone. Not ever. “It’s just hard. You know that. Sometimes I feel like I don’t have anything left of me by the end of the day, and today of all days…” You swallow as the first tear falls, knowing it won’t be the last. “I always want you here, but sometimes I don’t know how to be here with you.”

A wrinkle burrowed between her brows, and she stepped closer to you like a deer she was afraid to scare off. “That’s all you had to say. I just need to know what you’re thinking, feeling, y’know?” 

“Okay,” you whisper. 

She pulls you close again, this time not letting go. Your arms curl around her solid frame as her fingertips move across the length of your spine, up and down. You let your tears fall then, and they dampen Tess’s hair, her shoulder. 

“You’re okay,” Tess soothes. “Tell me what I can do to help.”

“Can we turn the light off?” 

“Of course.” She moves slowly to the lamp. “Where’d you wanna sit?” 

You contemplate and decide to go across your apartment to your bed, climbing under the thin, moth-eaten sheets. The last thing you see is Tess’s kind face before the apartment is bathed in shadows again. She slips into a strip of moonlight to grab your chocolate from the couch and then joins you, her presence warming the cold bed. 

“C’mere.” She holds her arm out, and you snuggle into her chest, lacing your legs between hers. With her arms around you, she peels the chocolate wrapper apart and takes out one of the peanut butter cups. “Have to eat chocolate on your birthday. It’s the law.”

You let out a subdued laugh and take the cup if only to please her. “You have the other one.”

“They’re yours. Save it for tomorrow.”

“You have to share chocolate on your birthday,” you deadpan. “It’s the law.”

Tess rolls her eyes but takes out the other cup, nibbling the corner before letting out a groan. “God, I’ve missed these things.”

The sweet, nutty smell reminds you of old memories. Theatres and picnics and long car journeys. “My sister ate so many of these that she threw up once,” you confess, smiling at the thought of her aggressive sweet tooth. “Outside the movie theatre, too, with everyone watching.”

Tess grins. “Yikes.”

“She still got another three packs on the way home.”

Her chuckle vibrates against you, and for a moment, things don’t feel so heavy. You’re able to think fondly of that time, rather than with bitterness and loss. You can think of your sister, miss her, and yet still somehow breathe. You take a ginger bite of chocolate and another wave of emotion hits you, but you stay upright in the force of it. You have Tess to hold onto. 

“As good as I remember,” you admit. 

Tess only hums, stroking your hair with her free hand. 

“I’m sorry,” you continue, looking up at her. She has a fleck of peanut butter on her lips, and you use the pad of your thumb to wipe it away without really thinking about how intimate a gesture it is. “I know I seem cold and distant sometimes. It’s only because I’m trying not to break in front of you. We all have our shit, and you handle yours… so fucking well, Tess. I feel… guilty that I can’t always do the same. Like, if you can be okay, I should be, too.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “That’s the stupidest shit you’ve ever said.”   

You snort through another mouthful of chocolate. 

“I’m serious,” she insists. “I got why you’d close off on me before, when things were casual. But I’m not casual about this anymore. I need to know when you’re not okay. And for the record, the only reason I seem okay most of the time is because you make me feel okay. More than okay. I was so lost and empty before you. You reminded me how to live.” She wipes the tears from your face as you soak in the tender words. 

“Well, shit,” is all you can murmur for a moment.

Another laugh burbles from Tess. “Yeah, shit.” 

You shift against her to look at her properly, tracing the outline of her chin with sticky fingers. “I feel the same. Of course I do. You’re home to me now.”

Her smile falls slowly as her eyes glint, showing you all the things both of you are too afraid to say. It only occurs to you then, after twenty years of pain and suffering, that you’re allowed to feel something else. Something good. You want to, even. You lick your lips, putting down the chocolate to trace the outline of Tess’s stomach, right up to the swell of her breasts. Maybe you need the distraction. Maybe you just need to feel something other than fear. Maybe you need to show her just how much she means to you. Either way, your chest flutters and you adjust your legs between hers, moving higher until you feel the apex of her thighs against yours. 

She knows what you need instantly and kisses you, roughly and softly, slowly yet hurried. She tastes like chocolate and peanut butter and she is rewriting your tragic little life, your loss and your grief, so that now Reese’s is this, her. So that now the taste isn’t bitter, but sweet.

“Let me take care of you tonight,” she says. 

You can only nod, rolling over and arching your back as she begins to place delicate kisses down your neck, across your collarbone. It takes her eons to get to peel up your T-shirt and kiss your stomach, right down to the waistband of your trousers, but you bask in every moment because you know she’s trying to show you, too.

I love you, you want to say. I love you and it’s terrifying, because I could lose you. But you can’t, so you twine your fingers through her hair instead, pulling her back up to you to kiss her again. Feel her again.

“Please,” you plead, desperate for everything she can give. Anything to take you from the darkness. 

Tess doesn’t need you to elaborate. She slips her hand under your waistband and presses gently on your clit, causing the heat in your belly to coil like a spring. Your breath hitches in your throat, and she swallows it with another kiss. 

“I got you,” she’s whispering as she begins to circle that sensitive spot slowly. She sucks on your jaw, teeth nipping at your lobe as you arch into your pleasure. She draws your wetness up while sinking into your chest and caressing your breasts with her free hand, and you wish you’d had the forethought to take off your clothes. You’re in too deep now, too lost in the bliss to move an inch. 

“Tess,” you breathe, hands tangling in the sheets as she slips a finger inside you, using her thumb to keep rolling across your clit. You buck your hips, and her eyes grow bright as she watches. 

“Good girl. Take what you need from me.” 

“You,” you say. “I need you. So much.” You’re no longer just talking about this, not even when she plunges a second finger into your sex and you gasp roughly. You begin to roll your hips, desperate for more. A tear slips down your cheek, this time not born from sadness, but something else. Something you can’t put a name to. You only know it consumes you in moments like this, when Tess is here, giving you everything, every piece of her. 

“You’re so pretty like this,” Tess rasps, tugging your trousers down, down, until she can kiss your thighs. “So fucking perfect.”

You pinch your own nipple as you feel your climax build to bursting, moving faster, harder, against Tess’s fingers as they fill you up. Your walls clench against her when she nips at your skin. “I’m yours,” she’s saying. “I’m yours, baby.” 

The words tip you over the edge, and you cry out, legs shaking, as you come hard around her fingers, whimpering her name over and over as you ride out the high. When your hips finally slow, you realise your cheeks are damp with more than just sweat, but you grow limp and lack the energy to wipe away your tears. Tess places a final kiss just above your clit, causing you to spasm again, before she returns to the pillow beside you. Her features are honey-soft, and she uses the back of her hand to dry your tears when she sees them. 

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” you say softly. “Just…” It’s hard to say, but you force it out because you want to. Because you need her to know. “I’m yours, too, y’know. I…” You can’t, even now.

You don’t have to. Tess cuddles up to you, tracing the shape of your brows and looking at you like you might be the only source of sunlight in this endless night. 

“I know,” she says, and you know she does. Know she must see it on your face, too. “I know. It doesn’t need to be said.” 

Your lids are heavy, and you let them close as your breathing begins to even out. 

“I do, too,” is the last thing you hear before you dose off. A confession, an answer, a lifeline. 

Yours.

#tess servopoulos x you #tess fic #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos #tess x reader #tess servopoulos hbo #tess servopoulos imagine #the last of us hbo #tess servopoulos one shot #tess servopoulos fic #tess one shot #the last of us #the last of us fic #hbo the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us series #tlou show #tlou #tlou fic #tlou imagine #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou one shot #x reader #x reader imagine #multifandom imagines #multi fandom imagines #multifandom #imagines #fanfiction

[ficbrish]

The Perfect Bite

Rating: Explicit 18+ only!

[AO3 Link]

[Kinktober 2023 prompt thanks to @absurdthirst! October 4th - Overstimulation]

[[TW/CW: Cptsd, blood, gore, alcohol, light dom/sub]]

Summary: Knowing pleasure sweetens the blood, Astarion primes Vistri for the perfect drink.

Takes place in Act I during the Underdark missions.

[Click here for my other Kinktober one-shots]

Vistri was lifting the curtain to Astarion’s tent when she caught Shadowheart's glare from across camp. She was getting so sick of them. 

Hells, Shadow’s sigh silently said, You’re gonna make me cast restoration in the morning again, aren’t you?

Shrugging back at her with a, Whoops, sorry! Vistri ducked inside.

There he was. Waiting. Astarion had a smile on his face that she knew not to trust. But a look deep in his eyes said otherwise, a glimmer of something safe.

“There you are, my eager little treat.” He let those last three words roll slowly off his tongue for emphasis. Each one punctuated as its own little song so they sounded like, “Eager. Little. Treat.”

Bearing witness to the softness in his smirk, Vistri’s heart rushed with all the blood she had to offer.

It wouldn't do to show him his effect. Denying his power, she put on a playful smile, “You’ve certainly set the stage for a promising evening.”

An open bottle of wine waited to be passed between them. Astarion took a swig and presented it to her as she sat down across from him, “Picked it off a corpse.”

“How romantic,” Vistri reached out and took a sip, accepting his offer. It was rough on her throat, but at least it wasn’t vinegar.

She felt him watch her intently. His eyes seemed to bore down on her every movement.

He was parsing her every expression for displeasure as she drank. Not only did the wine fight you on its way down, it had a particularly unique aftertaste. Vistri's placidity unnerved him. Her face reminded Astarion of a lake, calm on the surface with who knows what going on underneath. It was this trickiness of hers that made it almost impossible for him to tell if he'd truly won her over.

Raising one of his hands to eye-level, he confidently commanded her attention. Then, as if referring to something expansive, gestured across her vision with a slow, hypnotic wave, “The best I could do. For the best I’ve ever done.”

That rakish smirk hanging off his sculpted lips belied the sincerity of his statement. His words were a functional trap.

But alas, they were honest. Astarion wasn't sure whether he wanted her to believe him or not.

Vistri held his onto his unwavering gaze and licked a little drop from the tip. If there was one emotion she could display, it was want. The hope that he'd be able to taste her tongue upon his next sip was her secret to bury inside of performative desire.

After passing him the bottle, Vistri relaxed back on her elbows to poke at his compliment with hollow cockiness, “Oh? The best you’ve ever done? Pray tell!”

“Just all the others were…” Astarion looked a little sad and drank. He swallowed and plastered a familiar mask over his face.

It made Vistri slow down and adjust hers.

She knew what the end of that sentence would be if it were coming from her own lips. All the others were merely another audience to please; people who purchased bits of her soul in the dark. Or in the middle of a crowded party…

“Not as fun?” she offered.

To which he smirked and said, “Exactly. And you, my sweet, are very fun.”

“Wait,” she sat forward, “Was that a genuine compliment?”

Astarion giggled, showing his fangs in his grin. Her question echoed the one bouncing around inside his own head. He answered with another he kept asking himself in response to it, “Is that really so hard to fathom?”

Vistri smiled cheekily as if to say, Yes.

Wrenching the bottle out of his grasp, she purposefully caressed his fingers with hers. Such a subtle touch made her eyes lower, almost shutting for a moment. How the brush of his skin made hers shiver and dance... The shock of it always hit Vistri's vacant shell of a system like steam on ice. Coming alive as she did at his touch gave Astarion the power over life and death. She almost resented him for it. Only his touch could ignite that flame.

There was no one else.

She drank deeply to stop herself from saying the wrong thing.

“I’m hurt,” he teased, “I thought we trusted each other.”

A sudden cackle erupted from Vistri that made her almost spit out the wine. Hurriedly, she swallowed hard and choked on it. Her attack of laughter fought to free itself through coughs and gasps of air.

“Oh now, that’s not very fair!”

“No!” Vistri continued laughing, “That’s not—We do!”

Whatever it was reduced her to a doubled-over pile of cackles. Astarion frowned, mistaking her bone-deep relief for a mocking emotion.

However, watching her was contagious. He started laughing too, “And now you’ve gone and spilled the wine!”

She tried to sit back up and apologized through her fit, “I can’t help it!”

“Did you, by any chance, happen to smoke a bit of Gale’s pipe before joining me?”

Vistri wiped her eyes and caught her breath, “Don’t worry, I would have invited you if I had. Actually, I think he’s a little miffed at me. I don’t know why though—” She interrupted herself laughing at a joke she suddenly came up with all on her own, “He doesn’t want to give me his pipe!”

She was absolutely ridiculous. Astarion couldn’t help but laugh at the way she wriggled and shook, filling his tent with pitchy sunlight, squealing for breath. With a mischievous grin, he lunged at her and scooped her into his lap. Her laughter died down as she settled onto him, face to face.

So close, their noses almost touched. The sour wine on their breath wove itself around the sweetness between them.

Vistri grew dizzy with every feature of his too-close face. She froze, waiting for any type of cue. His lips were right in front of hers, but they only kissed when they fucked. She was just here for another drink.

Unbeknownst to each other, their stomachs both flipped as Astarion rolled his hips against hers, finding a more explicit angle. Vistri felt him grow harder with every passing moment he spent nestled in the heat between her legs. Something between a purr and a growl rumbled low in his chest. 

“Tsk Tsk, you’ve got wine all over that shirt,” he observed in a low tone, simmering with playful fervor. “Might as well take it off!”

Speechless, Vistri nodded and lifted her arms up for him to undress her. Astarion's fingers danced across her skin in bits and pieces of touch as he lifted her shirt over her head. She took note of every graze and bump, feeling every brush of his hands with as much detail as she could retain.

“That’s much better,” he smirked.

Her purple-blue tits looked bigger in contrast to the smallness of her ribcage, and her indigo nipples perked up from their sudden exposure to the night. Astarion's longing to feel them on his tongue tightened the grip along her waist.

Big hands held her steady, flat against her bare back. A mouse in the paw of a lion. Vistri was here explicitly to be prey to his predator, and yet she never felt safer, never more eager to let herself go. She tilted her head to the side, offering her neck.

To which he played the offended party, “Are you just here for a quick one, or did you come to my tent for an experience?”

Overcome by the ravenous nature of his curse, and overwhelming presence of his past, teasing was the only means Astarion had left to hold onto himself with. Not without leaning on Vistri; letting her in. If she didn't shoot back with something clever, she would be the only ledge left for him to grasp.

Vistri didn't answer. She couldn’t kiss the lips she kept staring at, so she traced them with a finger instead.

Astarion closed his eyes and moaned. Giving in, he kissed her fingertip.

And then her palm.

And her wrist.

As he let go of her hand, it flew gently to his face like a feather carried on a thick, warm breeze. Vistri's thumb caressed his cheekbone, saying everything they couldn't speak.

The truth would not be an appropriate answer, but Vistri didn't want to lie either.

“I want to make you feel good," she said, her fingers snaking their way up into his curls even though she told them to stop, "To give you power.”

She cursed herself for promising the very thing she was trying so very hard to deny him. 

Astarion almost looked genuinely happy. As seriously as his brow was all screwed up, it seemed more at ease than ever before. Vistri felt herself surrender completely to that spark in his eyes. To the deception that wasn't a deception.

“You have quite a few ways of doing that. So let me ask you this, what did you enter my tent for?”

He needed to hear her say it out loud.

“A feast.”

Vistri finally let herself fall onto his lips. She leaned in, gently pressing against his soft skin as another part of her answer.

“I want to sate every appetite you have. Ease every ache. To be the means to your happiness,” she admitted, punctuating each confession with another desperate kiss. She devoured him like she’d missed him for centuries, and he followed her lead.

Whenever he kissed her again for the first time, Astarion remembered what it was like to miss someone. Vistri wanted him, and he wanted her too. For as many lovers as he'd had, that kind of thing was rare. But her words didn't carry enough weight, especially not through her charming song.

“And what do you get out of it?” he asked breathlessly as he tore away.

You. “A whole lot of fun,” she grinned and winked.

The smile left his mouth, but not his eyes. From Vistri he could get many things, but never a straightforward answer. And if he couldn't get one of the things he wanted, he might as well take another.

“Face the other way,” he commanded.

Putty in his hands, Vistri turned her back to him, tucking into his chest. He fit so neatly, like a shell. She closed her eyes for a moment to savor the feeling only Astarion ever inspired. It was a brand new experience brought to her through their meeting, when he’d tackled her to the ground, blade at her throat. His whole body had wrapped around hers; she'd boiled over with excited rage. She felt full of something for the first time in gods know how long. Alive.

And here it was again. Here he was again, with his body wrapped around hers.

Astarion let his hands wander, fingering her waist like a lock and watching her squirm. Vistri could feel the oppressive force of his sanguine famine salivating against her back as palpably as his arousal. Both emanated from him in a titanic wave that Vistri longed to drown under. She was eager to be lost at sea.

He was already lost in her willingness to be consumed. Monster at her back, Vistri's heart skipped as one of his hands caressed her throat. As he kissed the base of her neck, a stray moan escaped her restraints. His other hand dove lower, below her waist, “The way you give yourself to me so completely is intoxicating.”

Haunting her spine, Astarion planted long, needful kisses on the back of her neck. Like flowers with tall stems, they flourished in the garden of her senses. His lips sowed sensation after sensation. 

Up by her ear, he whispered, “You always taste so good, but you taste the best with euphoria in your blood.”

His fingers began to undo the lacing on her trousers, “Can I touch you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what you want. Don’t lie. I’ll taste it.”

Thoughtless and mewling, Vistri confessed her sins, “I want you all over. I want your hands on me. Touch me, I need you to touch me.”

His cool, coveted hands almost stung against the blaze he found between her legs.

“Gods you’re already soaking!” slipped from his mouth in genuine surprise.

A pleasant surprise. He was used to working a lot harder for that. So was she.

Vistri’s breath hitched as he began to gently stroke her. He kissed the back of her head.

“That’s it,” he told her as she began to rock her hips against his finger, “That’s a good pet.”

Vistri cried out. Her reward was a bit of pressure added to her neck and a welcome finger slid teasingly inside. 

He found a begging reception. His name spilled from her lips, “Astarion.”

She’d never cried out his name so sweetly, and an ache tore him open. He rested his forehead against her back and a strained whine escaped him. He untangled from her neck to bring both hands between her thighs. Vistri writhed and squirmed in his lap. She felt so good rubbing against his trousers, but he was desperate for her skin.

“Be a good pet and cum for me.”

She surprised him again, “Work for it.”

“That’s a challenge I can certainly handle.”

“You’ll nev—Oooh!" Vistri couldn't finish speaking because her whole chest convulsed with staccato cries that his cloth tent had no hopes of containing, "Nev… Never—Ah!” 

“You can let go,” he whispered in her ear, “I’ve got you.”

Her pleasure practically roared out of her. He could feel her start to pulse and tighten over his hands. Astarion didn’t ease his prancing fingers, even as she tapered off. He kept going until every bit of her little death ebbed away. Until she wriggled with the loud shout of his touch against her spent parts.

And she didn’t want him to stop. Vistri rocked her hips against his stroke, fighting through the jagged sensation of too much until she found ache and longing there too. “Again,” she begged.

“Are you sure?” he asked, “I can stop.”

“Don’t you dare… Unless you want to!”

“I don’t want to stop.”

Vistri reached up to run her fingers through his hair, pulling it just enough to sting without any real pain. In a gesture of surrender, she opened her thighs a little wider.

She called out his name, repeating it over and over as the tight feeling built and built and built until it burst apart again. This time, his hands stopped with her ecstasy. He slid his fingers out of her and lingeringly trailed them up her slit in one slow stroke, until his fingertip met her overspent clitoris. Her whole body twitched as he teased its head. Passing over it slightly one way, and then the other.

“I could stop now,” Astarion began, “Or…” He paused for effect and continued, “Or I can have you die in my arms until you sob from it.”

Vistri turned her face towards his, “Kiss me.”

Astarion jumped at the chance. Every bone in his body was aching for her, especially the one throbbing between his legs. His lips found purchase, and his tongue reached for hers. He could taste the blood under her skin.

The expression in his eyes had to be wild. Lust and bloodlust. Vistri met it with affection instead of fear. Every soiled part of his soul was exposed, and she licked up every bit of ugly like it was something sweet to be savored. He had to repay her the only way he knew how. Through teasing and pleasing until he turned her into shreds of herself. Scattered parts he’d hold all together for her to come back into, whole.

So his hands stayed below her belt, and he worked at his promise. Until they lost track of how many times she came. Until every nerve ending was cursing his name. Until his fingers started to prune.

Vistri was a little embarrassed by the way she lost herself once totally spent. Tears in her eyes, she couldn’t imagine ever feeling any sort of craving again, but then she turned back around.

Heat sat on Astarion’s face like the most delicious thing to ever exist.

Her mouth gratefully dove into his, and he moaned. She teased the tip of her tongue against his before biting his lip. When he smiled, she gently licked along one of his fangs and it was his turn to shiver.

“Do you like that, dearest?” Vistri asked, knowing already that he really, really did. It always drove him crazy. She just wanted to hear him say it out loud.

“Yes,” he answered quickly, his calculated charm having flown away.

His fangs and his ears were both so sensitive. And Vistri licked his other fang before kissing all over his ear and whispering into it, begging him to bite her.

“Get undressed and lie on your back,” he whined through the sensations.

Vistri’s heart pounded in anticipation of his bite. She felt greedy, wanting more. Wanting his teeth in her skin, his tongue on her neck as he swallowed every drop. Astarion echoed every feeling, growing louder with every article shed, which wasn't much to begin with.

They admired each other’s naked form, then Vistri got down on the floor.

“Take as much as you want from me,” she told him as he settled over her.

Astarion kissed her deeply, pressing his body into hers. “Why are you so generous with me?” he asked. The expression in his eyes looked like old wounds.

Vistri caressed his cheek. Moments like these, when the mask slipped, he really came out from underneath everything. Buried under layers of dirt, she’d catch these glimpses of him.

And he was the most beautiful fucking thing she’d ever seen.

“Because you inspire me to be generous,” she said.

He sunk his cock into her before his teeth. One entry followed by another. It was so deeply intoxicating, his hunger threatened to take control.

Astarion tore himself away after a few sips, remarking with a bloody mouth, “You are…”

Very dizzy. But she wanted to give herself over to him entirely, and when he could stop on his own accord, she was allowed to.

She put her fingers to his red lips, playing with her blood and painting him with it, “You should take more.”

He paused, ceasing his thrusts but not pulling out. There was danger in more, and Vistri was too precious to lose.

“Are you sure?” he asked, “Are you feeling all right?”

“I feel amazing,” she assured him, “And I know you could feel better. So take it.”

Astarion was not convinced. Her lies were as pretty as her face.

Vistri whimpered a little as she squeezed the wound on her neck so more blood poured out. His tongue betrayed him and flew to it, and she moaned his name again.

“I’ll tell you when to stop,” she said, “Just take until I say so.”

Not knowing whether to believe her or not, Astarion took a leap of faith and gave in. Completely. His mind felt like it expanded as he drank, and the feeling of her underneath him became more and more colorful and alive.

Instead of relinquishing control, she'd taken it. Even though Vistri never wanted him to stop, she promised him to be the one who wouldn’t let him go too far. So, she grabbed his face and called his name to bring him back.

Astarion's lovely mouth was so red it was almost black when he stopped drinking and asked if she was still okay.

“I’m great,” she said a little weaker than before, “Are you okay?”

She'd promised to protect him and was really asking if she'd done enough.

His eyes were wild, “I feel amazing.”

“Kiss me, Astarion.”

“But I…” he protested, his mouth dirty with her blood.

“I want all of it,” she said, “I want to taste myself in your mouth.”

“You’re… sure?”

Her own blood would be poison to her stomach, and its stain on him was the ugliest part of his curse.

“Please,” she begged.

A wide smile spread over his face that he molded into a smirk. “Oh, you lovely little freak,” he teased before meeting her mouth again.

He tasted like Astarion and an overwhelming amount of copper. Vistri flinched from it and leaned hungrily into it at the same time. She always wanted to remember the taste of her blood in his mouth. A snapshot she could always carry as a secret treasure in her heart no matter what came next.

Astarion reached his climax tangling his guilty tongue with Vistri’s, and he took her along with him. They moaned and whined into each other’s mouths as pleasure wracked over them. Relief came to Astarion in every sense, and Vistri’s body ached with ecstasy it couldn’t take any more of.

They steadied each other in their arms after riding it out together. She felt lightheaded and he was shaking with power.

Vistri thanked him, “That was perfect.”

Unable to handle being anyone's idea of perfect, he laughed and remarked, “Your face is a bloody mess!”

She laughed too, “As is yours!”

He kissed her one last time, before it was too late and not allowed anymore. Vistri held onto it for as long as it lasted.

“Wash me off? I can’t look in the mirror.”

Vistri giggled, “Of course I will.”

“Thank you,” Astarion said, squeezing her hand.

They didn't let go of each other until the passage of time screamed for recognition. He stood first, then helped her up.

Hands meeting again for one more brief moment.

Vistri wasn’t too steady on her feet as they got dressed. As soon as Astarion noticed, he made her sit back down.

“You didn’t let me go too far, did you?” he asked with true concern, kneeling at her side.

Vistri waved off his worry, “Oh, don’t fret about that! Shadow’s gotten really good at restoration magic.”

[Click here for my other Kinktober one-shots]

#vistarion #kinktober 2023 #absurdthirst kinktober list #promt fill #vistri #astarion #balders gate 3 #full fic #astarion x tav #perfect bite fic #BrishFics #smut #lemon

[hepatitushepatits]

Artists I think the qsmp eggs would like =]

By planetziggy.exe

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Chayanne: Puppet, Dayglow, JAWNY, Puma Blue, Rainbow Kitten Surprise, Mad Tsai, Gorillaz, Vundabar, GHOST,

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Dapper: Ghost, Rob Zombie, System Of A Down, Staind, Starset, Creed, Korn, Morbid Angel, Cannibal Corpse, Malevolent Creation, Krisiun, Broken Hope

Just.. hard metal. Like death metal. Similar to my headcanons of q!Bad's music taste.

-----

Ramon: Dr. Dog, Steve Lacy, Tracy Chapman, Phil Ochs, Pete Seeger, Woodie Guthrie

Just my brother's taste in music, lol.. Ramón is definitely into the classics but also indie.

-----

Leonarda: Valentín Elizalde, Fother Muckers, Calle 13, La Lá, Flema, Elvis Crespo, Soft Cell, Days N' Daze, Black Eyed Peas

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Trump: Illapu, ELAKORD, Coolio, Los Aldeanos, Orishas, Coldplay, El B, Al2 El Aldeano, Zacklanta, Emma Dos Santos, Lamp, Lisa Ono

I have this strong feeling that he would just love cuban rap, cuz it kinda reminds me of Maxo's songs.

In contrast, I feel like bossa-nova fits his vibe, too... maybe more like japanese bossa-nova, tho.

-----

JuanaFlippa: Sin Bandera, Ani DiFranco, Citizen's Utilities (my uncles band =]]]), Katerpillar (a band my mom is friends with 😭), Tori Amos, Kevin Kaarl, Whatever Dad, Bob Marley

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Tilin: Peach Pit, XXXTENTACION, Steve Lacy, Beach Bunny, Black Eyed Peas, Mac Miller

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Bobby: High Sunn, Coma Cinema, Will Wood, Bo Burnham, Lemon Demon, Tom Lehrer, The Mountain Goats, WILLIS, Gusttavo Lima, Daddy Yankee, Hatsune Miku (yes seriously hatsune miku), LucieToo, SHISHAMO, La Lá, Plastic Girl in the Closet, satomoka, iri, sikisi, Blu-Swing, Los Bukis, Calle 13, Los Enanitos Verdes, Mad Tsai

Idk! I feel like he would've liked more... Japanese indie? Shoegaze? Idk what it's called lol. Or comedy music...

-----

Tallulah: Beach Bunny (specifically like the Pool Party album?), Lovejoy (or like anyone related to them)(James Marriott, The Arctic Monkeys, Crywank, etc), Selena, Queen, Surf Curse, Jet, Gorillaz, (NOT ME PROJECTING HEHEHEH)(I have so many more but it'd be too long and my head hurts so)

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Richarlyson: Tribalistas, 4AM, IVYSON, Terno Rei, Ave Sangria, Tim Bernandes, Medulla, Lil Peep, kate gill, Daughter, Billy Joel, Plain White-T's, Current Joy's

He's so garage indie rock coded lol.

-----

Pomme: Stupeflip, Gwizdek, Nekfeu, Népal, Orelsan, Caperezza, Marracash, Willie Peyote, Pinkshift, iri, mildrage, Knosis, DAZZLE VISION, BABYMETAL, yoasabi, nouns, Natori

Pomme's just that one weird girl. She's always super nice but she wants to eat cement 🥰. Screamo music is her jam I reckon

-----

Yeah, idk.. I'll be updating this prolly, so stay tuned for that.

#qsmp #pz headcanons #qsmp headcanons #qsmp eggs #egg headcanons #to be continued #headcanons #chayanne headcanons #dapper headcanons #ramon headcanons #leonarda headcanons #trump headcanons #JuanaFlippa headcanons #tilin headcanons #bobby headcanons #Tallulah headcanons #richarlyson headcanons #pomme headcanons #help me #i cant tag lol #qsmp music headcanons

[psapphic95]

If you’ve ever head the song “fore she was mama” it reminds me so heavily of Emma digging through Regina’s old pictures from high school and her early 20s and being OBSESSED I would love a little snippet of Emma finding out about Regina’s party days (if she had any)

Hey, 

This is interesting! I can admit I’ve never heard this song before, but I had a listen and kind of got the idea. 

It was only after Regina broke up with Daniela that she truly began to blossom and begin a hoe phase that also doubled as a party phase. She was about 25/26 and had a good few years of making up for relatively tame teenage years and her early 20s being tied down to Daniela. 

In fact, from the ages of 18-25, Regina was actually a little bit of a NERD. Nothing like the sexy, mature seductress that took Emma to bed within minutes of meeting her. Though she was always popular with the people that she went to school with, she was a little bit of a horse girl with glasses, but still very attractive. She loved school, loved science, and was incredibly wholesome (maybe even a bit shy?). 

Anyway, one day Emma was searching through Regina’s stuff and found a big hefty album full of photos from her Mommy’s college days. Regina was never really one for social media (never has been either), even the first iterations of Facebook didn’t really hold her interest for very long so most of her memories were in physical form. Of course, Emma immediately scooped up the album and toddled off into the living room to disturb her Mommy, who was doing some work on her laptop.

“I found your pre-historic memories from when you were young, Mama,” Emma grinned as she flopped down next to Regina on the couch. “I didn’t know cameras were even invented then.” 

Side-eyeing the cheeky blonde as she closed her laptop and set it to the side, Regina replied, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, little girl.” 

With the heavy album deposited on her lap, and her smiling girl cuddled up next to her, waiting to hear all the stories she was going to tell, Regina opened the front cover. 

The first two pictures were of her and Daniela, kissing each other on the cheek. 

“My eyes!!!” Emma screamed, scrambling to cover her eyes as Regina cackled. “Put the album away, now!” 

Wrestling Emma’s hands away from her eyes as payback for her earlier remark, Regina laughed, “I thought you wanted to see Mommy’s pre-historic memories, baby girl.” 

The girl huffed, taking her hands away from her face and glaring at the pictures in front of her. Her Mommy was so pretty when she was younger, the thick-rimmed glasses that covered most of her face just made her even cuter. Daniela was…whatever. If Emma hadn’t known the history between the two women, she would have assumed that they were very platonic friends from the picture alone. 

“Ugh,” the girl scoffed. “It just makes me so sad that you were having shit vanilla sex with that sentient corpse for so long, whereas I would have fucked your brains out.” 

Regina turned to her with a small chuckle. “I was 20 in these pictures and you were about 8 years old at the time. There was literally zero possibility that you were going to do anything of the sort, sweetheart.” 

Silently conceding the valid point, Emma was eager to turn the pages to something other than a picture of her Mommy with that woman. 

The rest of the album was filled with Regina doing all the nerdy things that Emma had expected; pictures of her studying, with her horses, cute selfies taken in the mirror of her University dorm. 

It was sweet and innocent, though entirely very tame compared to Emma’s own teenage years up until the present day. 

“What’s this?” Emma pointed to a picture of a smiling Regina with a bottle of Corona in her hand. 

“My 21st birthday, this was my first drink.”

“You’re lying. You actually had your first drink at 21?” Emma shook her head. 

“As opposed to you having your first drink at the age of one, I was following the law,” Regina snipped back. 

“Grandma only put the tiniest bit of brandy in my milk because I wouldn’t sleep!” Emma defended, before looking closer at the picture. “You were such a cute nerdy horse-girl, Mommy. I would have had the biggest crush on you if I was in your college classes.” 

In the end, however, it all got a little weird when Emma pointed out that there was a picture of Regina, 18 years old at the time, showing Emma, (who was 6 at the time) and her Grandma Ava, around Daniela’s family’s stables. 

Emma’s grandmother died when Emma was ten, and of course, Regina never met her alongside Leopold so she obviously never made the connection. Emma’s family had moved to Storybrooke when she was five, and Regina left for college a year later, so the pair never had the opportunity to meet each other despite how close their families technically were. 

Emma shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I think we should close the album now, Mommy. It’s getting weird.”

“I agree,” Regina nodded, looking a little tense. “This is making me feel like a creep.” 

“It was many years before you were my Mama,” Emma reminded, slamming the cover shut and tossing the album to the side. “Remind me to take it back to Storybrooke and leave it there the next time we go…”

#ask response #ao3 fanfic #ao3 author #once upon a time #ouat fanfiction #regina mills #swan queen #mommy k!nk #mommysbaby #memories #mdlgkink

[sifu-kisu]

SPIRIT OF JAPAN

"The Revenge of the Samurai Wife"

Second Part

Come, come, ladies,” she barked, “enough blabbing! It’s time to get back towork. Katsunosan, did you remember to feed the bird Takane?”

“Not yet, Lady Tora.”

“Come on, then, get a move on! I don’t hear him singing. He must be

starving!”

The young woman ran to get some birdseed and returned to the garden. She

stopped under a plum tree in flower from which a large gilded cage was hanging.

As she was trying to unhook the cage so she could feed the bird inside, the ring

from which it was suspended broke and the cage fell. When it hit the ground, its

door sprung open, and the bird flew away.

“You bungling fool! What have you done!” cried the duenna. “You have let

this priceless treasure given to our lord by the shogun escape. What an

unforgivable blunder!” And the old woman dragged Katsuno behind her to go

receive her punishment. Lord Oda Nobuyuki received her surrounded by his

council of vassals.

“Do you realize what a stupid thing you’ve done!?” he shouted at her in his

fury. “Suppose the shogun should visit me and ask to see the bird! Such

negligence calls for a punishment that will be an example to all!”

Craftily, Shichiroyemon seized the moment and said, “That is true, Sire, but

do not be too severe. She has been the victim of her absentmindedness. Let it be

enough to banish her from your suite for a time. Let me take charge of her. I will

shut her up in my house and teach her to be more mindful.”

But now young Hachiya spoke up.

“Sire, on this anniversary day of the death of your father, show yourself to be

as generous as Emperor Takahura was with his gardeners.”

“Be so kind as to refresh my memory concerning that incident.”

“One morning in winter, the gardeners cut a few branches from a magnificent

old maple tree to warm their sake with. It being the case that the emperor was

particularly fond of that tree, a steward had the guilty parties arrested and

informed His Majesty. The latter, instead of becoming angry, recited these

verses by the Chinese poet Bai Juyi: Passing through the woods

For a time we paused.

Maple leaves we gathered there

And burned them to warm our wine.

“For having reminded me of this admirable poem, the kindly emperor

declared, ‘I pardon these men.’ Following his example, Sire, be indulgent. Do

not follow in the footsteps of the Heike, whose harshness caused them to be

hated and finally caused their downfall.”

Furious, Shichiroyemon was unable to hide his exasperation and cried out,

“His honor the orator in displaying his erudition has confused our minds. Every

misdeed must be punished, otherwise the doorway to anarchy will be thrown

wide open.”

“What misdeed are you talking about?” retorted Hachiya. “This was more of

an accident. And why should we not tell everyone, Sire, that it was your idea to

have the bird liberated so it would ascend into the heavens and its song would

rejoice the heart of your late father?! That would be an acceptable reason should

this matter come to the ears of the shogun. He could not fault you for your filial

piety.”

“Excellent, my dear Hachiya,” said the emperor. “Without a doubt you always

have good advice to offer. Moreover, that is exactly why I am appointing you

first counselor. And in view of the fact that you show so much concern for Miss

Katsuno, who according to my wife, finds you attractive, I hereby proclaim your

nuptials, to take place this very evening.”

The following day, the new first counselor was found assassinated. The

murder weapon, a knife, was left sticking in the corpse as a kind of signature.

Lord Oda Nobuyuki recognized it. It was the dagger he had given as a gift to

Shichiroyemon, a marvelous blade forged by the famous Masamune. At once he

sent his samurai to have Shichiroyemon arrested, but the felon was not to be

found. It was learned not long after that he had entered the service of Oda

Nobunaga, the head of the clan. He had told his new lord that his brother

Nobuyuki had been plotting against Nobunaga and had given Nobunaga a list of

the names of his fellow conspirators. As a result, war was imminent. Having a

premonition that this affair would turn out badly for her protector, the

unfortunate Katsuno asked for permission to depart on a pilgrimage to pray for

the soul of her fiancé. She also asked to be given the murder weapon, of which

she wished to make an offering at a temple.

Katsuno’s journey took her to the castle at Inabayama, the dwelling of Lord

Saito Dosan, an ally of Oda Nobunaga. She managed to gain employment at the

castle by falsifying her identity. The story she invented was that she was the

daughter of a poor samurai from a distant province whose father had fallen into disgrace.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[onesourceofbadinformation]

theo multiples of 8

8. what songs remind you of them? if there are specific lyrics or movements, list ‘em!

well im going to take this opportunity to post theo playlist :) https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4QJZpArphRf8sEvkJDFMEE?si=S1P-XFJGQISWg6cF7d04hQ sorry there’s a hamilton jumpscare in there so sorry. i promise it wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t absolutely necessary

ultimate theo songs are: the plague by the mountain goats (and rivers will all turn to blood / frogs will fall from the sky / and the plague will rage through the countryside), sad dream by sky ferreira (i thought about you all day / how we have the same face / i fell asleep so confused / parts of me remind me of you), epilogue by the antlers (but you return to me at night / just when i think i may have fallen asleep / your face is up against mine / and i’m too terrified to speak), oh my god by ida maria. (find a cure / find a cure for my life / oh my god / you think i’m in control). and the one song from the one musical.

16. do they value their appearance?

she tries not to think about it. she pretends she doesn’t care. she also thinks (knows—to her it is just A Fact) that she is ugly and always has been and always will be and this makes it impossible for anyone to be attracted to her.

24. are they close to any family members?

she was super close to her mom growing up. not anymore though lol! that’s not her mom that’s a reanimated corpse with a different consciousness!

32. which of your decisions led to their voice being the way it is?

not sure if i understand this question 100%? like spoken voice? i do my shitty attempt at an english accent because theo is british to me. i have always known this.

40. if you had to remake this character right now, how would you change them?

probably wouldn’t make her a cleric! as much as i love her blood magic. i do like the idea of theo being just Some Guy with the healer feat. no spells. possible rogue? not sure which subclass i’d choose. maybe inquisitive because she’s nosy..or phantom for goth powers

48. do they relate to anyone in their group? conversely, which person do they relate to the least?

she probably has the most in common with felicity although im always thinking about the theo agni parallels. she probably relates least to adaeze? or amadeus if we’re including ex-party members. she would never make a pact with a being beyond her comprehension. the lawbearer doesnt count. that’s different.

56. who would they trust with their life, unequivocally?

elvira. she loves the whole party but elvira can revive her and has powerful spells and will not use necromancy. also loving someone is different than trusting them with your life.

64. how would a party member describe them?

i’m hearing this in cyrus voice. “theo is my friend and she’s smart and responsible and she knows a lot about blood :)”

#thank you bee! :)

[rastronomicals]

12:11 AM EDT April 18, 2024:

Rush - "A Passage to Bangkok" From the album 2112 (February 1976)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

Ah, shit, is it the times that have changed, or is it I who have? When I first heard "A Passage to Bangkok" as a 16-year old, I was fairly certain I'd never heard anything so very fucking cool before. That's one of the things about adolescence (even aside from a fascination with controlled substances): it's very prone to superlatives. These days, while I still might be tempted to term "Passage" the "best weed song ever," I'm aware, in that world-weary way of an adult, that there might just be a better weed song out there, one I've not heard as of yet, or maybe even one, shit, that I've forgotten. I'm also a little more likely to temper my enthusiasm for the song just based on the subtext that the lyrics have sadly gained with me over the years. Let's take a look at those lyrics for a second.

Our first stop is in Bogota To check Colombian fields The natives smile and pass along A sample of their yield Sweet Jamaican pipe dreams Golden Acapulco nights Then Morocco, and the East, Fly by morning light [Chorus] We're on the train to Bangkok Aboard the Thailand Express We'll hit the stops along the way We only stop for the best Wreathed in smoke in Lebanon We burn the midnight oil The fragrance of Afghanistan Rewards a long day's toil Pulling into Katmandu Smoke rings fill the air Perfumed by a Nepal night The Express gets you there [Chorus]

While I have maintained all along a sort of admiration at Rush's literacy, and their ability to come to a point (a talent many bands further along the prog scale don't always share), a quick scan of the lyrics yields an awful lot of blood. To the world-weary these days, "A Passage To Bangkok" is not only a seeming tour of the world's great trouble spots, half of it seems a tour of places that have been deeply and mortally affected by the black market sale of illicit recreational drugs.

The band's first stop was in Bogota, and while the Cali and Medellin cartels are dead, the gunmen and the carbombs used during the '80's to carry out over 3500 brutal assassinations of political foes and uncorrupt police remain as their chief legacy. My sixteen-year old self was thrilled by the mention of Acapulco Gold, but the cynical 58-year old version is unfortunately first reminded of the thousands of headless corpses that were found in Mexico last year, all victims of the country's notoriously savage drug cartels, who have for the most part declared war on the country's elected government. And while I can't seem to read

The fragrance of Afghanistan Rewards a long day's toil

without cracking up anymore, I remain sobered by the known and established connection between the Taliban and drug smuggling. Be careful now with what you take from what I write. I'm not necessarily being critical of Rush for writing the song back in the naive '70's, or even for continuing to perform the song until the band ended. I'm not even finding fault with those who have chosen to smoke marijuana regularly--although I might there proffer the advice I give in other problematic arenas: Buy American, dude. No, what I'm lashing out at is this tenet I've learned all too well as I've grown older: Nothing is simple, nothing is easy. Everything carries strings, I've been sad to learn, and though a naive teenager just wants to be left alone with his preferred high volume music to craft his personal buzz in peace, the real world in fact never leaves you alone, and never will. So much so, in fact, that it will steadfastly and ruthlessly erode the ramparts of your youth when you're not even looking. Take "A Passage To Bangkok." It's a song about partying, and it takes itself so seriously that it employs the Asian riff not once, but twice. It's a clever song, a fun song, but the years have done their work on me such that I can't even listen to the fucking thing--a totem of my Rock 'n' Roll Number One, Disco Sucks adolescence, mind you--without becoming all preachy and prescriptive about it.

File under: Best weed song ever--for what it's worth

--

#Rush #2112 #A Passage To Bangkok

[returntosaturn271995]

Favorite Quotes from "Really, Good, Actually" by Monica Heisey

“The idea of Jon writing breakup songs in some dark sublet filled me with equal parts deep despair and incredible relief – despair, to think that I had caused him such pain he’d been driven to experimental songwriting; relief that I wouldn’t have to listen to it.”

“We swore neither of us had Seen It Coming”

“Certainly, you are not supposed to be twenty-eight years old and actively planning a birthday party with the dress code ‘Jimmy Buffett sluts’.”

“Of course, it did not feel better to burn a tobacco and juniper candle and listen to the Backstreet Boys than it had felt to be loved”

“The truth is, if you start your eating disorder even slightly overweight, no one will notice until things are very much at the ‘what if two meals a day were soup’ stage.”

“Out of ten, how ready are you to joke about this?’ he asked. I mulled. ‘Six?’ ‘Right,’ he said. ‘So we’ll get into the eyebrows another time.”

“Clive and I split a bag of jagged low-calorie chips and toasted the beginning of my ‘ho phase’, though my lip started to quiver as our glasses clinked, forcing him to walk it back and remind me that every ho must take things at a pace that works for her. ”

"handwritten on heavy paper, highlighting relevant lyrics … oh, Brian”

“ the depth of their worry revealing itself only in my father’s daily text: alive? y/n.”

“ I needed a few weeks to be disgusting on my own and adjust to my new life as an unlovable husk. Amirah curled her long legs underneath herself, and I could tell she was going to say something annoying.”

“the way life together felt like an adventure. Their favourite adventure was going to restaurants.”

“and a rotating series of doomed hamsters,”

“a feeling of dull invincibility I referred to as ‘haha, so what”

“nodding like a group of NPR hosts. Lauren dipped an endive in yogurt, wiped the side of her mouth, and said politely, curiously, ‘Isn’t that, like, exactly how people describe depression?”

“I spent distracted time with the self-help authors, agreeing furiously with whatever was in front of me and forgetting it moments later.”

“ I think most intelligent people are a little bit mean, and all nice people are a little bit stupid. I wish I didn’t think that. I’m working on not thinking that. I have bad posture and good blood pressure. I’m heartbroken.”

“As I waited for the streetcar, I wondered whether he was right – if I’d had a bad marriage – or if Jiro was just kind of a dick.”

“Lauren nodded knowingly. ‘Can’t help you,’ she said. ‘The apps have destroyed my idea of what’s normal. I had to break it off with that guy I was seeing – remember he said he was agoraphobic, so we always had to meet at his house? Turns out he’s totally fine, he just doesn’t like coming to the west end.’ ‘Holy shit,’ I said. ‘Stealing that,’ said Clive.

“Sometimes it felt like a gesture of support, and sometimes it felt like loading all the corpses on the same cart so the rest of the village didn’t get the plague.”

“Amy said she’d never felt better, on days when she didn’t feel the worst she ever had.”

mortifying sadness selfies

“Amy drained her martini and puffed her cigarette, looking more divorced than anyone in history: ‘Good luck.’

The night carried on. I felt myself cross the threshold between fun drunk and ‘about to quote a song lyric from my past’, but there was nothing to be done except drink through it.”

“Her studio had a mirror that said STRONG AS A WOMAN on it, and she loved the way it made her butt look in selfies.”

“Amy, one false eyelash starting to peel away from the corner of her eye, looked at me like I was the dumbest idiot alive”

“looking for a partner in crime (i plan to commit many crimes)”

“Amy had recently gotten a tattoo of the word BREATHE, and Amirah had joked that it might as well read DIVORCED. Did I want everyone around me to know, on sight, that I was Going Through Something?”

“Merris came in, wearing one of her jazzier sweater shawls. She was holding a small baggie of eggs. ‘You have unsettled Olivia,’ she said, putting them down in front of me. ‘Apparently B12 will help.”

“This turned out to be surprisingly easy; all it required was 100% of my energy, 100% of the time.”

“everyone involved in adult learning was running from something.”

“Clive ducked out after the fitness class I had brought him to turned out to include a jazz dance component. Lauren broke at paint night as we stood side by side, drinking wine with twelve other women all outlining the same image of a city skyline at sunset. She added a few swipes of pink to the corner of a fading sky and said, ‘This is self-harm. This is worse than when my boss made us go axe throwing.”

“His flannel shirt and ripped jeans seemed fused to his body, like someone had vacuum-packed Kurt Cobain to store over winter.”

“Dating has a way of making incompatibility feel like personal failure; there was nothing technically wrong with Nathan, except that I did not like him or want to spend any more time with him, which, in the context of us having paid $45 for an hour of axe throwing and one draught beer each, was a problem.”

“After all, neither Jon nor I had broken the one mandatory condition of contemporary romantic coupling; we had done the noble thing and slowly fallen out of love over time.”

“Don’t worry about it,’ he said, seeming to mean it. ‘Divorce is, well … that’s a spicy meatball.’ I didn’t know how to respond to this, so I suggested we get a drink”

“Used one of those calculators to determine how soon you can retire if you make X amount and save Y amount each month; found I could reasonably begin retirement in 238 years”

[walkingencyclopediaofweirdmayo]

Thank you, @maddsmallow , for tagging me! I find these types of things really fun! 😄

Rules: Tag 10 (or less) people you want to get to know better

Relationship Status: Semi engaged? My girlfriend and I have already talked about it and are discussing wedding ideas. But neither of us has officially proposed. We want to do the whole "will you marry me" with the ring and everything. But being in a long-distance relationship makes it hard.

Favorite Color: I LOVE greens. I don't have a specific favorite shade, but I love greens that remind me of a field during/after the rain or the shade of the trees in the woods by the creek. That freshly cut grass refreshing green. If that makes sense.

Song Stuck in my Head: There's like 5 songs that live rent-free in my head, and they take turns playing on repeat in my mind. Currently, it's House of Asmodeus from Helluva Boss.

Three Favorite Foods: This is a hard one. I'm never good at favorites lol. I've always loved watermelon, so that's a must on this list. Takoyaki is really good. I've only had the microwave kind, but if I love it that much, I can only imagine how good freshly made takoyaki is! Third would probably be these pork buns from this restaurant me and my girlfriend went to last time she was here. They were absolutely delicious!

Last Song I Listened To: シャングリラ by Asami Imai. It's the opening theme for Corpse Party. I listen to a lot of music from soundtracks.

Dream Trip: I've always wanted to go to Japan! There's so many places there I want to visit. I originally planned on studying abroad, but that didn't happen. I wanted to live in Japan on a trial basis, to see if I liked it. Originally I planned to move to Odaiba, since I heard they get a lot of tourists. I thought, as a native English speaker, I could work as a translator or something. Unfortunately none of my plans have worked out in my favor. But I haven't given up!

Last Thing(s) I Googled:

I was trying to put a wreath on a villager's door, and it didn't even cross my mind to give them the wreath.

My mom was reading something, and they spelled it "thruw". We were both very confused.

Tagging: like half the blogs i can think of are owned by maddsmallow! The only one I don't feel weird asking is @deafmic lol

#tag game

[rattyoakenbitch]

youtubers: “don’t touch her” ₊˚ ⸝  corpse husband x reader

❝i don't wanna think about, think about you. drink up, drink up i'm so fucked up, all i want is you.❞

gif credit: n/a song: lykke li - sex money feelings die

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

pairings: corpse husband x reader

warnings: angst, cursing, drinking, smoking, violent language, and minor mentions of anxiety.

summary: i can’t make summaries rn hhh just read it (:

“Sean, there is no way in hell I’m going!”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’ll be fun!”

“That’s what you always say!”

“Ugh, you and Corpse are so stubborn. At least I was able to convince him to show up! You know what you need? To get out of the house more often and come hang with us.”

“Uh huh, yeah, y’all have fun, I got some stuff to finish.”

“Yeah? Like what? Your ten hour nap?”

“HEY! Excuse me -”

“7PM, [club address], you’re showing up.”

“Sean - !”

With that, Sean hung up. You let out an exasperated huff, crossing your arms and pouting like a toddler who was just denied a toy. You were invited, or more accurrately forced to celebrate whatever the hell Sean and his friends achieved. With lives like theirs, it seemed like there was always something to celebrate. 

You, on the other hand.. Well, you were just little old you. You met Sean by mere chance. It’s a very long story, but you shared some things in common, like your love for video games. However, that was about the only thing you could relate to with Sean and his little friend circle. You were more passionate about writing, as well as reading short horror stories. 

Now, that’s where you clicked with Corpse Husband. 

He was an underrated YouTuber, whose main uploads were narration videos on creepypastas and horror stories. That’s until he blew up with his Among Us gameplays, collaborating with big names like PewDiePie, Jacksepticeye, and CrankGamePlays (EEF!!!).

You met over an Among Us stream with said YouTubers and immediately hit it off. You shared a dark sense of humor, love for horror, and music. You knew of Corpse before, but only then did you discover that he produced music, which you absolutely enjoyed (and blasted in your house for days on end).

When you found out you lived not even twenty minutes away from each other, you’d occasionally meet up, mostly at his house considering he only went out once in a blue moon. You’d sometimes even spend the night at his place, staying up late, gazing up at the stars, getting deep into conversation and opening up about things you never blurted out to people. But when you were with Corpse, everything just came naturally. You felt safe with him, and hopefully, he felt the same. 

Night approached, the clock striking 5PM. You figured you’d get ready since Sean was dead set on you coming to the party. You showered, did a minimalist glossy makeup look, and chose an outfit, which consisted of a half neon green and black skirt that stopped mid thigh, and an oversized distressed band tee which you tucked into your belt. You slipped on a pair of ripped, striped thigh-highs with mismatched colors, (white stripes on one and neon blue on the other), and your platform boots that made you look like a Bratz Doll. You didn’t bother with your tangled hair. You teased it with a brush but didn’t put any effort into styling it, since it’d get messy anyways. To finish your look, you clipped on a choker and dangled a couple of layered chains around your neck.

Corpse would tease you, saying you had a “dog collar”, but you knew he secretly liked it.

All dolled up and ready to go, you hopped into your car and followed the GPS to the address Sean sent you. Drunk couples stumbled out of the club, dates headed inside, and old wasted guys were thrown out. Oh boy, you were not ready for this.

You were the anxious, anti social type. Not because it was edgy or cool, but you simply didn’t know how to handle social situations. However, it comforted you to know Corpse would be there by your side so you didn’t need to chat and flirt with strangers. 

It’s not like you wanted to meet anybody new, anyways. Though nobody was aware of it, you had feelings for Corpse. Cliche, right? You knew you shouldn’t have, but you developed feelings for him. It made you feel strange and weird, considering you haven’t caught feelings in a while.

You came up with the bright idea of slowly drifting away from Corpse to maybe help de-escalate these feelings, but you were going to run into him at the club, so what the heck.

You headed inside, your eyes scanning the crowd and pushing through, searching for your friend group. You spent a couple minutes cluelessly looking around the club, but to no avail. Then, it was as if a light bulb clicked on over your head; you never thought to phone Sean.

“Ugh, I’m so stupid.” You reached into your purse to get ahold of your phone when a pair of strong, manly hands and cold metal which you assumed to be rings wrapped around your shoulders, gripping you tightly. 

“Boo!” 

You felt your heart stop and ran out of the man’s grasp, spinning around to look at who it was.

“Oh, did I scare you?” 

The man’s deep, monotone voice rumbled above the sound of the music and shouts. Then you recognized that unique and distinctive voice. 

“Corpse!! What the hell?”

His nose and jaw was covered by a black mask, with a print that looked like Frank from Donnie Darko, which was also Corpse’s signature look, seen in his channel art. 

Despite Corpse being a faceless YouTuber, only very few people have seen his face, including you and Glam&Gore who he featured in his narration videos. You thought he was very handsome, his baritone voice matching his appearance. You had to admit, you were a little disappointed he chose to wear a mask. You loved seeing his facial expressions, especially his precious smile that would light up the room when he’d let out little fits of laughter. But you got over it and respected the fact that he wanted to remain anonymous.

“You dickhead,” you scoffed, smacking Corpse lightly on the shoulder. Corpse towered over you, looking admittedly both intimidating and seductive. If you were a stranger, you’d probably be running off, but you weren’t scared of Corpse. He was a big softie and a teddy bear.

Corpse chuckled lowly, slinging his arm over your shoulder and leading you to Sean’s group. He was protective like that, even if you were just friends. Now you could see why Sean, at one point, speculated that you and Corpse had a thing going on. 

“So, Sean forced you to tag along, too?”

“Pfft, yeah, that’s Sean for you.”

“Hey, there’s my favorite couple,” Sean joked, patting your shoulder. You rolled your eyes at his drunk antics.

“Shut up, don’t make me choke you like I hate you,” you mocked in return, eliciting a fit of laughter from the group. 

“Remind me to never hang out with you losers again,” Corpse mumbled sarcastically under his breath.

The night went by in a flash. Sean, Thomas, Felix, and everyone else was blackout drunk. Luckily, Mark was there to assist them. Since Mark couldn’t drink, he would be the designated driver that night. Corpse hung out by himself, sometimes getting approached by women who he politely turned down.

You, on the other hand, were downing alcohol like your life depended on it. For you, it would take more than the average number of drinks for you to get wasted.

“Y/N, don’t you think you should slow down?” Corpse questioned cautiously, resting a hand on the small of your back.

“Does it really look like I’m thinking right now?” you drunkenly slurred, following with a giggle. You waved to the bartender, calling for another shot, which he slid over to you, but not without hesitating after noticing your state. You pushed Corpse off of you, probably more harshly than you intended, and took the shot. 

“Okay, Y/N, fuck this, I’m taking you to my place. We can’t stay here and you certainly can’t drive back home when you’re drunk,” Corpse scowled, stepping closer to you. Again, you shoved him back.

“No.. No..” You sighed, holding your pounding head in your hand. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Y/N, you’re drunk -”

“I’m not letting you of all people take me.”

Corpse blinked. “What does that mean?” He knew you were drunk, of course, and you were probably just blurting nonsense.

All of a sudden, tears escaped your eyes, racing down your blushy cheeks.

“No.. I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.” You began to shake and tremble as tears started to uncontrollably spill down your face. Corpse didn’t waste another second to take you in his arms, hushing you. “Your hugs are so warm.. I hate it. I hate feeling this way. It’s all my fault.”

“What did you do, sweetheart? You can tell me.”

Your heart ached when you heard his pet name for you.

“I think I may like you more than you like me.. I-I didn’t mean to! Please don’t leave me. You’re all I have,” you sobbed into his white tee, clinging onto him. “I love you so fucking much, it hurts. I shouldn’t have!”

Corpse stopped for a moment, processing your words.

You.. felt the same?

Corpse had to tell you. You were drunk, but he needed you to know. 

“Y/N, I -”

Suddenly, you had a moment of clarity. Realizing how close you were to Corpse, you backed away, wiping away the mascara tears under your eyes.

“I - I think I had too much to drink.. I just need a smoke..” 

Without giving Corpse the chance to protest, you ran off into the crowd, struggling your way through. 

Corpse began to get worried when you didn’t come back. He waited impatiently on the barstool where you left him, anxiously playing with his rings.

He was just about to get up and look for you, when he caught a glimpse of you stumbling out the exit with another man who guided you, gripping your arm tightly.

Corpse fumed, his face going red and heartbeat speeding up. He went after you, knowing damn well you didn’t know this man. 

The man took you to his car, placing you atop the trunk, your legs dangling over the edge. He stepped in between your legs, caressing your face. Everything was a blur. If your mind was clear, you wouldn’t be stupid enough to trust this random guy, who was probably ten years older than you. 

“You’re too pretty to be crying,” he whispered, leaning in closer to your face, until a yell stopped him from proceeding any further.

“Hey, asshole, she’s drunk! Don’t you fucking touch her!”

“C-Corpse?” You hiccuped, hopping off the trunk to get a look at the approaching figure. It was indeed Corpse. His eyebrows were pressed together angrily at the sight.

“You know this dude?” the man said loudly and smugly, just to get a reaction from Corpse. “Relax, my man, I’m just tryna take this pretty girl home.”

“Well this pretty girl happens to be mine, and I won’t let you take advantage of her,” Corpse growled. 

You stood by the stranger, clinging to him as you watched Corpse’s face twist into an expression of heartbreak when you didn’t budge. He then noticed the bruises around your arms and wrist, supposedly from the man’s strong grip. He was unbelievably furious. 

“Ha, doesn’t look like she’s your girl anymore.” The man’s lips twisted upwards into a devilish smirk, only pissing Corpse off some more. Oh boy, was he ready to snap. He reached into his pocket, when..

“Wait,” you managed to slur out, breaking up the argument. You reached out towards Corpse like a child. His facial expression immediately softened. He gave you a loving smile and immediately took you into his arms, holding you protectively. 

“Now, I suggest you get in your car and never come back,” Corpse threatened.

“Oh, yeah? Or what? I’ll kill you and take your girl, you motherfucker!”

Without hesitation, Corpse took out his switchblade, looking the man in his eyes.

“Say that again?”

You watched as the stranger’s whole tough act fell apart. Without another word, he ran to the driver’s side of his car, fumbling with his keys. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Corpse mumbled, not taking his eyes off the man until he reached his own car. You held his hand the whole way, processing what had just happened. Corpse noticed your distant expression. You got into his car, shutting the door and slumping back into your seat. He tore off his mask, taking in deep breaths to calm himself. Then he looked back to you. 

“Princess?”

You looked to Corpse, your eyes teary. “Hey, Corpse.” You didn’t seem to be as drunk, your mind a lot clearer after the incident. “D-Did you mean anything you said back there? About the..”

“About you being my girl?” 

Corpse took your hand in his, squeezing it comfortingly. He leaned forward and cupped your face with his free hand. “Absolutely.” 

With that, you leaned towards him, hesitantly pressing your lips to his. Your lips tasted of alcohol, but Corpse didn’t care. He was admittedly taken back, his breath hitching, but he released the tension from his body and kissed you back, pulling you over to the driver’s seat atop him. There wasn’t much space, forcing you to press closer to Corpse, deepening the kiss. 

Still being a bit drunk, you were clumsy and kind of ‘out of it’. 

“I’d hold onto something if I were you,” Corpse mumbled, breaking the kiss momentarily to guide your hands to grip his shoulders. But you were impatient and reconnected your lips with his, no doubt causing him to blush even more than he already was.

You couldn’t help yourself and giggled into the kiss, causing Corpse to chuckle along with you, departing from the kiss again and resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry, you’re just so fucking adorable when you giggle.” 

You hummed in response, offering Corpse an innocent grin as you pecked all over his face. 

“I’m so glad you’re mine.”

#corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse x you #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x female reader #corpse x female reader #corpse husband x you #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband fluff #corpse husband oneshot #jacksepticeye #markiplier #crankgameplays #sykkuno #youtube #youtubers #among us #rattyoakenbitch #pewdiepie #aesthetic gif #lykke li #tw: drunk #tw: drinking #tw: alcohol #tw: smoking #tw: violence #tw: anxious thoughts #tw: anxiety

[renaerys]

12 for Greens please!

12. “Give me your panties.”

Every time I write Greens I get softer for them.

Send me a prompt and some characters! Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we're getting creative here.

List of prompts

xxx

It did not surprise Butch at all that Buttercup, the girl he had sworn to beat the crap out of as kids because a) he needed a hobby and b) she was the only person on the planet who could take a punch, had grown up to be the coolest girl he knew.

She was grounded, got caught coming home late from a party stinking of weed, and her father didn’t believe Bubbles’ cover story. But even still, she snuck out to go to the Blue Quake concert Butch had saved up all his tips for the last four months to get tickets to. Yeah, he could have given her ticket to Wes or Elmer or any of the others, but she’d punch him in the dick and pogo stick her way to the concert on his stiff corpse if he so much as dared, her words.

Butch, being seventeen and human, felt a brief rush at the idea that she’d come into any sort of contact with his dick, violent in nature or not, but he soon got over it because Blue Quake was happening and they were going together and they were going to have the greatest time ever.

Their tickets admitted them to the floor center stage, where the mosh pit soon undulated in full force, and Butch was living. The music was stupid good, the guitar riffs quickened his blood almost as hot as Chemical X, and next to him was the fucking cherry on top.

The cherry threw her arm around him and sang the chorus to this song directly in his ear. Her bangs were sweaty on his cheek, and he could barely hear her voice over his own heartbeat and the adrenaline, but she was warm and happy and that made him laugh. The mosh pit jostled them, but they were Super and invincible and together, and they were having the best fucking time.

xxx

Buttercup’s phone buzzed in her skirt pocket. It was probably Blossom wondering when she’d be back, and she couldn’t cover for her all night, and she really needed to wrap things up soon before the Professor got wise and figured out where Buttercup was.

Five more minutes. Five more minutes and then she’d be satisfied, but she’d said that five minutes ago, and she didn’t have the heart to tell Butch she had to go, so she didn’t. He could have given her ticket to one of the guys and not worried about curfew or angry dads, but he didn’t. And that surprised her. Butch had ditched her plenty of times before, threats notwithstanding, but not this time. She didn’t care to think about it too much, preferring to have fun in this moment with him.

“That’s our show!” the lead singer said. The crowd cheered, expecting the encore that would definitely come as fans threw flowers and shirts and themselves at the stage in shameless abandon.

“Wow!” Buttercup laughed. “They’re obviously doing an encore, what gives?”

“Hey, Buttercup.” Butch had to press his lips to her ear to be heard over the screaming. “Give me your panties.”

A punch to the dick was her gut instinct, but the lizard-brained part of her suspected he’d like that in his twisted way. He’d been good, solid even, and she was in the best mood.

Buttercup slid her panties off over her boots and shoved them at Butch. “You better make that count, asshole.”

He looked at her like he couldn’t believe she’d actually complied, because he probably couldn’t. He probably had never even held a girl’s underwear before, and that made Buttercup kind of proud. Aw, I’m his first. She leaned heavily into the pride so her anxiety wouldn’t consume her—what did he think of her now?

Butch barked a laugh like he’d forgotten how and clutched her panties in his fist. He averted his gaze. “You dirty bitch.”

“I can see your half chub,” she taunted right back.

Butch’s breath was hot on her forehead. “Bet you can.” He dropped his hand around her waist, and she thought about how she was bare now under her skirt and he knew that.

He raised her panties in his fist and fired off his blaster. The panties went up in green flames and landed on the stage with a flourish. The crowd howled and clapped, and Blue Quake started up their encore.

Buttercup made it home half an hour later to Bubbles playing mobile games without a care in the world and Blossom down in the kitchen entertaining their father.

“She covered for you,” Bubbles said, not looking up from her game.

“I owe her.”

“She watched The Price is Right with him.”

Buttercup winced. “I really owe her.”

“Yup.”

She showered and changed, and after apologizing to Blossom fifteen times and promising her a favor of her choice in the future, she settled into bed with her phone. There was a text from Butch.

[Butch: Confession: I kept your panties]

[Buttercup: I saw you incinerate them!]

[Butch: I didn’t. Got them right here]

He sent her a picture of her singed underwear splayed lovingly on his bedspread.

[Buttercup: You nasty fuck]

[Buttercup: Guess you’ll have a good night beating off]

Butch’s chat bubbles bounced for a long time, then disappeared. Buttercup bit her lip. It was a long time before he responded.

[Butch: Thanks for coming out. Was fun]

“Buttercup, turn off that light. I’m trying to sleep,” Blossom murmured.

Buttercup ignored her.

[Buttercup: Thanks for not giving away my ticket. It was cool of you]

His chat bubbles bounced and bounced. She imagined him typing in his bed, and she thought about his lips against her temple, warm and a little wet. She wondered what he was thinking now (probably fighting or fucking), if it was about her (it was always about her). Buttercup told herself these things, but she didn’t truly know. She’d never asked him. How do you even ask someone that? Do you think about me in bed at night? Fucking weird.

[Butch: Going to sleep. Talk tomorrow?]

Buttercup sat with that question mark for a long time. Hope? Indecision? Uncertainty? God, she felt like Blossom overanalyzing fucking punctuation marks in text messages. She thought about actually asking Blossom, but decided against it after everything Blossom had already done for her tonight. This was Butch, and she was overreacting. She decided to go with her gut, which had always worked with him before.

[Buttercup: Yeah. DOTA?]

His reply was immediate.

[Butch: Definitely]

[Buttercup: 🔫]

He liked her message, and she put her phone away. She may be grounded, but she’d hear his voice as she destroyed him in DOTA tomorrow. He’d bitch and moan about it, like he always did, but she didn’t mind so much.

And maybe…

Maybe she’d ask him.

Maybe.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

#powerpuff girls #powerpuff girls fanfic #ppg greens #Butchercup #ppg butch #ppg buttercup #september fic prompts #having so much fun subverting the expectations of these prompts i gotta say

[princess-of-disappointment]

Favourite Ex

Hi Hi!

This was not a request. I actually was just listening to Favourite Ex by Maisie Peters and this idea crept onto me. I love this song and even though I can’t say I personally have an ex or a favorite ex, I can say that it gets me in the feels EVERY SINGLE TIME. I hope you all enjoy this piece even if the song isn’t what you usually listen to or you’re not a fan of angst.

Now I must remind y’all that this is a work of fiction. In this piece both y/n and Corpse do bad things. I just wanted the story to fit the story that the song had presented so things happened… In other words, he’s more of a character in this fic. This is not what I think he would be like in real life, but for the sake of the story and the song, this is how I portrayed him. This is just a story of fiction and nothing that I wrote into this character portrayal of Corpse is what I seriously think he could be like.

Now with that out of the way, thank you for understanding and, again, I hope you enjoy this fic.

-----

Favourite Ex

Pairing: Corpse Husband x Reader (y/n)

Warning: ANGST just pure ANGST, TOXIC (both parties in the relationship showcase toxic behaviors or thoughts)

Specific Warning: Cussing as it just fit the vibe so I went with it, the end of a relationship, cheating, alcohol, TOXIC

Summary: You both knew the end was coming soon, you just didn’t know it would be this painful.

Song: Favourite Ex by Maisie Peters

Word Count: 1,754

-----

It was open and closing

And hopelessly hoping for shore

We were here, we were ghosting

Both of us coasting on 'just give a little more'

You both had been able to see that it was the end before it happened. Neither of you seemed to be happy anymore with each other and how things were. Most nights, you weren’t even sleeping in the same bed as one another, him opting for the futon in his recording office, if he were to get any sleep that night.

Even though neither of you felt as though your relationship was as it was anymore, neither of you wanted to admit it. So you took these changes and marked it all down to a rough patch that you would eventually move past.

You still folded his laundry at night and he still made your coffee in the morning.

You avoided stepping on one another’s toes and everything was fine.

It was all out my hands when you pulled the trigger

And I kissed your friends 'cause your friends said you kissed her

And I didn't flinch, and the lights didn't flicker and I

I fell apart

Until it wasn’t.

It eventually got to the point where neither of you could deny the change anymore, but when Corpse had pointed it out one dreary Wednesday morning, you were more than unhappy that he had pointed it out. You had thought that you both would continue ignoring it and that everything would go back to normal after just some time.

You had believed that all you needed was some time. But when it became revealed that same Wednesday that there was more going on, you were beyond heartbroken.

After your spat about Corpse pointing out the change that morning, he had gone to shower leaving his phone on the kitchen counter. Normally you wouldn’t think anything of it, but when it kept buzzing and buzzing, you couldn’t help but look over. Once you caught sight of the messages, you knew you couldn’t turn back to how things were before.

From: Dave

What the hell dude?

- Picture included -

When the fuck did this happen?

Does y/n know?

The picture in question? A picture of Corpse kissing someone who certainly wasn’t you.

And you fell apart.

You were my best nights and worst fights

And couldn't care less

You were my gold rush to cold touch

Favourite ex

And all of the others cancel out each other

And it's always you left

You were my no sleep, cried for weeks

Favourite ex

Neither of you left the house often so you were able to pinpoint exactly when this happened - just a week ago when he had told you he was going to go hang out with the boys. Did he see them at all that day or was it all a big cover-up?

As you heard the shower turn off, you wiped your tears and grabbed your phone before heading out the front door. You had no intentions of leaving, you just couldn’t bring yourself to confront him and fight once again today. So you took yourself outside and decided to sit on the porch and watch the moving traffic of the street ahead of you. You just wanted time to process.

By time you came back in, he was in the kitchen. You had grabbed the mail on your way back in and set it down on the counter next to him. He looked over at you, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s fine I was out there and figured I might as well grab it.”

He smiled slightly and kissed your forehead, but then went back to frowning a bit when he felt your brows furrow against his lips, “Are you still mad about earlier?”

You turn to look at him square in the face, “I’m not mad about earlier.” You weren’t lying about that fact. The spat earlier was nothing compared to what those messages on his phone made you feel, “I think I’m going to go lay down for a bit.”

“Okay. I’ve got a stream in like 10, so I’m going to go get ready for that.”

And with that you fled to the bedroom. It took everything in you to not run down the halls to get there so it felt as though every step taken took an eon to get there.

While you sat on the bed with the door closed, during those 10 minutes that you could hear Corpse getting ready for his stream, mentally, physically, and emotionally ready, all you could think about was the fact that he had kissed a girl - someone who wasn’t you.

It was stabs in the back

And the nice things you said when you were wasted

I was looking for something

And changing the one thing you hated

You think back to that night. What happened when he had gotten home that night.

Both of you had a bit to drink that night, but you were both happy. So fucking happy for the first in a long time. He had said all the right things that night that made your heart beat faster and he had made you feel as though you two were the only two in the world.

With this new intel you had, it made you think back on the night and wonder if any of it was real. Did he mean anything that he had said that night? Or was it all an excuse to make himself feel better for the mistake he had made earlier that night.

You weren’t sure and honestly, it felt as though a knife was tearing through your back straight into your heart and you couldn’t stand the fact that someone you loved so dearly made you feel this way.

Since day one, you had made changes to fit his needs and what he wanted from you to feel comfortable. He had done the same, but to see all that effort just for him to cheat? It hurt. It hurt a whole lot. You changed socially for him: unlike with past relationships you weren’t as bent out of shape about not going out for dates because you knew it was difficult for him. You changed emotionally for him: you focused more on making him feel better about himself than yourself because you knew he struggled with his self-image than you did. Yet these changes didn’t seem to be enough in the long run.

It was all out my hands when you pulled the trigger

And I kissed your friends 'cause your friends said you kissed her

And I didn't flinch, and the lights didn't flicker and I

I fell apart

In the heat of the moment, with racing thoughts you made up your mind.

If he had kissed someone else, I should too.

Was it the best of decisions? No, but once you had gotten on that train of thought, you couldn’t stop yourself. You picked up your phone and left the bedroom, grabbing your keys as you slipped on your shoes before heading out the front door once more.

You aren’t sure how or why it happened. Perhaps fate was playing a nasty trick on you and Corpse as by the time you had walked your way over to the local coffee shop, you happened to have run into one of Corpse’s friends. What better way to get revenge than to kiss one of his friends?

Before you could even process what you had done or what you were doing, you were pulling your lips off of Corpse’s friend’s and staring at them in horror. What have you done?

And you were my best nights and worst fights

And couldn't care less

You were my gold rush to cold touch

Favourite ex

And all of the others cancel out each other

And it's always you left

You were my no sleep, cried for weeks

Favourite ex

By time you had made your way home, Corpse had gotten a message from his friend about what happened and he was fuming.

You two hashed it out that evening with both infidelities now out in the open.

By the end of the night, you had packed up your things and left leaving your house keys on the kitchen counter next to the mail that you had brought in earlier.

My favourite ex

(2...3...)

It’s been a year now since that night. Even though you two haven’t spoken since, you can’t help but look back on it often.

You often wondered how the situation would have been different if you were to have confronted him about seeing the messages in the first place.

You wondered what his excuse would have been.

You wondered about what if you had never seen those messages in the first place.

You wondered what would have happened if you had left that morning.

You wondered if he had seen her again.

You still checked in on him on social media often and despite your separation, it made you proud and happy to see him flourishing despite your parting. It made you happy to see that he was able to move on and be happy despite the hurt that you both had endured a year ago.

You were my best nights and worst fights

And deepest breaths

You were my gold rush to cold touch

Favourite ex

And all of the others cancel out each other

And it's always you left

'Cause you were my no sleep, cried for weeks

Favourite ex

Even though a year ago this man had caused you so much pain, you couldn’t help but remember all the good that came out of the relationship.

You were stronger now and before the end had come, he had treated you better than any of your previous exes. He had respected you and you could tell that he had genuinely cared and listened to you when you talked. He had treated you like royalty and no other ex had ever made you feel as loved as he had.

Although it ended in pain, you couldn’t help but think you wouldn’t trade meeting him for the world. Sure, the end sucked, but you had so many memories together that meant so much to you. Your relationship with him lasted three years of your life and together you two had grown, but you also had grown apart. People do sometimes grow apart.

And despite it all, he had to be your favorite ex.

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x reader #corpse x you #corpse husband fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #toxic

[kazewhara]

i really enjoy corpse party, it made me anxious playing it and i fucking hated how the layout would change every chapter but it's a classic and it has a little special place in my heart nonetheless. however, the anatomy in it is awful. like, gore-wise. i would go on a rant about how the developers should've looked into the internal anatomy of a human but i think i'd get sort of gorey quickly and i don't want anybody to be triggered.

i also loved the concept of cat in the box! the feelings that it gave were so amazing when i played it. like how a game builds up hope and foundation only for at the very end to crush it and leave you with nothing but shock if you make the wrong decision?  amazing. i live for that. i haven't finished playing OFF but i love it already.

oh!! and ann! i loved the nostalgia it gave me, it reminded me of ib a whole lot but made me cry so much harder. it reminded me of my parents and when she covered her ears to block out the yelling that was when the dams broke. but i FUCKING LOVE SECURITY WITH MY WHOLE HEART  OH MY GOD. security and garry:..,:():;@?:7,):@;!!/'vnb?!?!?? I LOVE THEM. i love their personalities and how logical they are. but also how they protected ann and ib!?!?!?  head in hands. i miss them.

i think it'd be good to end this off with omori. i really love the characters, specifically kel. i love the little details to his character, and how it's (very heavily) implied that he bottles up his emotions. example, whenever hero does his little special moves when kel is depressed or enraged, instead of being sad or mad he goes straight to neutral. also, when aubrey pushed basil into the lake and kel got into an argument with her, hero pushed it off as "oh kel and aubrey are arguing again, just like the old days!" and kel laughed it off? that pissed me off. hero lover 'till the day i die but what the fuck man.

-💌

oh dude, i forgot about cat in the box and ann! ann is so so so fucking good 🥺💗 and tbh, i've always had a thing for garry my entire life, but that's due in part to the music that plays whenever he's around... ib's classical guitar ost makes me SWOON, and i actually know how to play both songs on the piano bc i. i am attached. i love ib so much, i ADORE IT

SPEAKING OF CORPSE PARTY, I HAVE IT ON THE SWITCH except i am much too scared to play it because i was ... what ten years old??? twelve??? when i watched gameplays of it, so i'm conditioned to be HORRIFIED of that game. the anime was dogshit and i mean gore-wise, as someone who put gore into the story that i turned in for the semester, unless the focus of the game is body horror and gore, people aren't really gonna pay much attention to certain inaccuracies... learned that firsthand ☝🏽

omori... BROKE me, like that plot put the fear of GOD in me. and emotionally i have not been the same. i wanna play it myself, but i dunno.. i'm a sad bitch

#z anon #💌 anon #rpg maker horror games ... #it's the graphics that put the fear of god into people #they're just so good.. better than most other horror games i see honestly #i can't watch people play actual horror games and be scared cause they just... aren't really scary #gimme that low quality pixel shit #THAT'S horror.