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morgana-ren · 8 months

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I DONT KNOW IF YOU WRITE FULL FICS BUT IF YOU DO PLEASE WIRTE ONE ABOUT TGAT LAST ASK.

Just about Astarion sitting in his throne of sorts, in the palace, with tav sitting in his lap. He’s bored, tav sits there- dissociating and wishing they were anywhere else. He asks them if they’d like to do something fun and they say something like “Only if you do my lord” and he saddens some, expecting them to come up with something fun like they used to but they can’t think of anything that he would approve of them doing after so many years of breaking them down and he realizes it’s gotten so dull because tav was the person that brightened his life

"Awfully dull today, hmm? How would you like to do something fun, my love?"

It's an oh-so rare quiet day in the Crimson Palace, and his favorite source of amusement sits placidly on his lap, silent as the grave and still atop him. Content as he is in the peaceful quiet with solely her company, he'd spend the day with her doing– well, something, surely. It’s been a while since they’ve had any time to themselves to truly enjoy each other’s company alone. In fact, he cannot recall the last time with any distinct accuracy.

It seems so terribly long since they've had any time to themselves. Being a Lord keeps you awfully busy.

In a tender moment, he reaches forward to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear with a long, pale finger. She doesn’t react save a slight instinctual flicker of her lashes. Not a hint of expression on her face. He expects her to lean into his touch as she used to and is almost shocked when she does not.

Odd, he thinks. She hardly even seems to notice anything at all.

It’s almost like she isn’t entirely present.

Still, before he can chastise her, she responds to his bid for her attention.

"If that is your wish, my lord,” She responds to his question, lifeless and monotone. Perfectly obedient, just as befits her, and yet—

He frowns, just a little. It irks him, but now that he thinks about it, he cannot recall the last time he saw enthusiasm on her face– or much of anything at all aside from the blank, hollow mask she has now. Completely impassive and unresponsive in a cruel sort of practiced indifference.

He studies her for a moment and comes to the conclusion that it reminds him of the robots they found in that strange tower in the Underdark so long ago. Programmed to respond to the right things and make the right moves, but utterly incapable of acting on her own whims. Eternally awaiting instruction.

Empty. Robotic. Precise and yet disingenuous somehow. Eerily so.

Has she been like this before? Has he simply not noticed?

Perhaps she just needs to awaken a little more. It was such a long night, and he had kept her remarkably busy. She must be exhausted, but surely, she will perk up. She always does.

Doesn’t she?

“Come, darling. What would you like to do?” He jostles his knees, dandling her on his legs like one might a small, particularly grumpy child. She bumps up and down, only reaching to steady herself on the sides of his throne.

“Whatever would please you would please me, my lord.”

He groans, rolling his red eyes, a very sudden burst of irritation bubbling in his gut. Always with the My lord, My lord, scraping and bowing like some sort of indentured serf. Proper respect is important, of course, but for the first time in a while— longer than he can honestly think back on, to be honest— they are entirely alone. He is her Lord, yes, but she knew him by another name once– did know him by another name. She knows better than to tease him in front of his vassals but surely—

He can’t remember the last time she said his name.

His real name.

How long since he has truly sat by her side and talked with her? Spent time with her? He's been so busy, laying plans and waste, conquering and shedding blood of those who oppose him. The Lord Tyrant, come to rule over his dominion of Eternal Night. She is always by his side, never straying and yet—

(“I love you, Little Star,” She’d laugh, planting a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, which would promptly crinkle in annoyance.

“I’m not ‘Little Star,’ and I’ll never understand why you insist on calling me that.”

“That’s what your name means, doesn’t it? Little Star? Or perhaps Little Starlight– I don’t really remember.”

“Then why make that my pet name?" He rolls his eyes, annoyed at the use of his own childish moniker that follows him like a shadow to anyone who speaks even a lick of his native language. "Of all the things your brilliant little mind can concoct, you give me a child’s handle? I’m strong, dashing, capable, handsome, fearsome– but instead you choose that absurdity”

“Because you’re my little star!” And she would smile so brightly that it seemed impossible in the darkness, and he could not help but smile himself. “My light in the darkness. My Astarion, for as long as you want to be. And I love you.”

His expression would soften once again and he would simply sigh, pulling her close to kiss her temple. The night was cold, but she was so impossibly warm against him, somehow fitting perfectly in his lap and into his heart, where she’d wormed her way in against his own will. The dim firelight reflects in her eyes as she tells him again that she loves him forever if he’ll have her, and he can think of nothing he’d desire more than to ride out the endless night of eternity with her here on his lap, cradled close.)

Something gnaws at him. Something raw and edged with a vicious sort of misery he’d done so well to avoid in ages. He cannot place it but as he looks at her, his stomach is as a dark, abyssal pit, circling and swelling like a maelstrom.

Something is wrong.

He cannot place the negative emotion, and so he does as he always does now, making the strange yearning her responsibility to soothe.

He lashes out at her.

“I’m growing bored,” He says with a cold, cruel edge to his voice. “You know how much I dislike boredom, don't you, darling?"

What he seeks is a reaction. A sudden spark of life from within her. For her to grab his hand and take him to do— to do something. Surely—

And yet, with a motion so fluid that it implies an aged and practiced skill, she slides from his lap down to her knees before him, reaching towards the laces of his breeches. There is nothing behind her eyes as she extends her hand forward to unlace him, hardly even seeing him. Nothing at all.

“What are you doing?” He slaps her hands away, scowling down at her, taken back by her brashness.

“You said you were bored, my Lord.”

“And why would you think–”

Because that is what he’d taught her.

That her body was built for his amusement; his temple to defile at will. Because of the cold nights in the castle after so many years where he would reach for her, and she would quiver and shake her head with eyes rimmed red and puffy and beg to be left untouched and yet he would speak the words without thinking and she would bend for him any way he wished.

Because even as she would obey, she would cry and turn away, and he would give it little thought until one night the crying and protesting simply stopped. He thought she had learned. Made peace with her duties and loyalty to him and what it entailed. Mayhaps she had come to realize that her theatrics had little impact on him and surely, he wasn’t so wretched to her now that these waterworks were necessary. His touch could not repulse her so that her weeping was remotely acceptable. She loves him, surely she—

Because he would command her until she would kneel, and so now, she kneels without command.

He sighs, breathing the fire from his lungs, reaching down to pull her back up into his lap. She does not respond, only obeys in kind to his guiding instruction as he settles her back down on his legs. He finds a semblance of patience from within himself which is a strange and unusual feeling, mustering it up to once again ask:

“My dear, what is it that you would like to do?”

Her head cocks. She does not understand.

"What would you enjoy? If you had the freedom to do anything, what might it be?"

It takes a moment, but for the first time, a reaction: Confusion. It is slow to take hold but becomes blaringly apparent as it does. It is not as if she doesn’t know the answer, but almost as if she doesn’t understand the question.

“Whatever you would like to do, my Lo–”

“No, no, darling. What is it you would like to do?” He impresses, harsher this time, and she flinches, recoiling from… something.

From him.

If her heart was still capable of beating, he'd be able to hear the way it pumps into overdrive. As it stands, he cannot, but he is aware no less. Her scent changes entirely around him to something that has his brows furrowing. Shortness of breath, dilating pupils, hands beginning to quake— Adrenaline. Steel-edged anxiety. As if this is not a question at all, but rather a test and she does not know the answer, and failure means his displeasure and his displeasure means–

"I— What would you—" She hard-swallows, harrowed by the open-endedness of the question. "—I want what—"

("Come to the meadow with me, Asto," She would grab his hand with a mischievous smile when their compatriots were fast asleep, tugging him up from the comfort of his bedroll. "I want you to come with me."

"It's late, darling. Wouldn't you rather come here and lie with me?" He would try to tug her back down playfully, but would fall against her aggressive temerity, being pulled to his feet through her sheer will. She would stifle her giggling with a hand as she guided him past their slumbering companions, through the tree line and deep into the forest.

"Come on, lazy boy, come! Come with me!"

"Well, I'm trying to—"

She would hush him and yank him by the wrist, out into the field where he'd first had her, down once more into a bed of wildflowers and long grass. Her melodic laugh like a strange song as she yanks him to the ground despite his weak protests until she would lie her head on his chest and trace gentle patterns on his white shirt against his flexed chest.

"We don't have to come all the way out here to make love, darling—" He would move to try to kiss her, but she would adamantly press her head against his torso, insisting he stay down in the dirt with her.

"I'm not trying to seduce you," She would giggle, pointing at the star-spangled sky. "I want to lie under the stars with you."

"But… why?"

"Because I know we'll have eternity to do it, but it's my favorite moon tonight and it reminded me of you."

He squints, struggling to find anything different about it at all. "I don't notice anything, darling. It looks very much like the moon we see every night."

"It's so full and bright! Look at the rays!" She holds her hand out as if to cradle a silvery moonbeam in her palm. "It reminds me of the color of your hair."

She reaches over him to delicately pluck something from the grass, tucking it gingerly behind his ear after she does so. "These poppies are the same beautiful deep red of your eyes in the moonlight. I feel safe here; home, with you. I just wanted to enjoy it for a moment. Just the two of us."

He would wrap his arms around her waist, squeezing so tightly that she would gasp and worm about, trying to return the favor, and yet he would not relent.

"I want you to feel safe with me," he would whisper into her hair, desperately trying to memorize the scent of it, as if expecting Bhaal himself to come and steal her from his frantic embrace. "Now and forever, I want to feel home in your arms, with you.")

He thinks, for a moment, to return to that meadow, and that perhaps his love— the one he remembers— will return to him. As if her ghost still lingers there, trapped and waiting to be rescued.

He can’t.

It is not a meadow any longer, but a battlefield, not unlike the vile destruction left in Ketheric's wake at Raithewait; another one in a million places sacrificed in his conquest for glory, littered with bodies and bones. A graveyard tribute to his power, scorched soil and dead grass. No flowers bloom there anymore— there is nowhere for them to bloom between the suffocating aura of death.

All that is left is a beautiful memory buried beneath a river of dried blood, and you cannot water flowers with dried blood or wean them on bone dust. That meadow is one moment suspended in time as trapped in amber, impossible to claw free from its temporal prison. He cannot remember the last time he saw that jovial smile she had saved just for him in that damned meadow.

He cannot recall the last time she said the words "I love you" and cried his name as a preternaturally beautiful siren song without being commanded.

He frowns, feeling something strange and haunting in his chest. Something viciously clawing up his throat as he looks at her: at her empty red eyes that were once the most beautiful color, full of love and life when she looked upon him; at her contorted expression that used to be as radiant as the sun and he could have sworn that her light could have sustained him through the dark, miserable nights of his eternal curse if only she was by his side; at the frailty of her body that almost seems to creak and break beneath his weight.

"My love, look at me."

And she does, if not by command, then by instinct.

"Smile for me, will you? Can you do that for me?"

And she does, her lips turning upward and raising to reveal two sharp teeth— and nothing more. It's uncanny and revolting and wrong. There is nothing behind her eyes, nothing at all. No light, no life, and certainly no love.

He used to be able to see himself in her eyes. How her heart sang for him, cheeks blossoming with blood at the sight of him. He could hear her heart rabbit behind her ribs, her hands quaking with excitement to touch him even in the most innocent of ways. Through her eyes, he found his own value— his own worth— and finally began to understand that he deserved love; he deserved happiness. She had healed him, giving almost all of herself to do it, selflessly and without asking for anything in return even as he despised himself and refused his own agency—

And she stares at him now with soulless eyes, he is left to wonder if he has taken too much from her in his quest to take everything. Wonders if she will ever be that lovestruck, moon-eyed girl again, wanting nothing more than to lie under the moonlit meadow with him. If she will ever kiss his eyelids as a delicate butterfly and whisper eternity in his ear. If she will ever feel safe and home and loved around him again in his embrace–

Save she is no longer quaking with anticipation at his touch, but trembling from fear, lost and terrified at the posing of a simple question. Her scent is foreign even as it is familiar and he cannot recall when it began to change. There is something in her eyes that haunts him, and though he can see himself within him, what stares back is not him. A terrible realization rakes knives down his soul, a gaping maw threatening to swallow him whole. A tightening in his lungs, and even as he does not breathe, he does not believe he could even if he tried.

“Darling?”

“Yes, my Lord?”

Her face is impassive once more. Perfect porcelain expression. Not a crack in the mask. Not a wrinkle in the facade. Practiced day in and day out until it becomes real. He remembers it well.

How long has it been? How long since he has looked at her? Truly looked at her? Spoken to her? Told her he loved her?

Showed her he loves her?

When was the last day he did not command from her that which she begged not to willingly give?

He cannot remember. He cannot recall.

He demanded and she had no choice but to give. More and more and more. He drained her dry and now where was once his sacred oasis, there is nothing at all. No matter how long he looks, there is never a flicker of anything in her glassy eyes.

He wonders if even as he has gotten everything he has ever wanted, he lost the one thing he needed.

It paralyzes him. For the first time in an ageless eternity, he feels something: Panic.

Even his endless power cannot bring her back. His beloved is dead, and he has killed her. Upon him sits a pretty corpse, empty and devoid of all that made her her. A doll with her face. A doll with barely even that.

Her laugh, her smile. Her passion and desire and love. The tenderness inside of her and the warmth she once held. Everything that pulled him from his shell and showed him how to love once more. He bloomed in her light– and then snuffed it out entirely.

How long has it been? How long has she been gone?

Though she may be undying, he realizes with horror akin to a dawning sun that she is gone– and has been for some time.

“You seem stressed, my Lord? How can I make you happy again?”

Second part of the story HERE

#morgana and friends #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #literally whatever you want it to be #very bad implications here do not read if sensitive #bad mean astarion #sort of #lots of mistakes here fellas #i TOLD yall i was having a tough time writing #this needed more time and work but man I just CANNOT focus #you get the gist right #this needed more detail and to be longer but i was struggling here #god i need medicine or something #one down about 399 more to go lmao

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canisalbus · 4 months

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To me, Machete kind of has the energy of a secondary villain/coldhearted side character in someone else's story that a lot of fans latch onto, moreso than the protagonist. Question is, would he be the villain in anyone's story?

Why, thank you! I'm actually glad to hear he gives off that vibe. I don't think he set out to become a villain but a lot of people certainly view him as one.

#in the 16th century canon he starts out as an introverted but sincerely well meaning guy that never quite manages to find his social niche #he was a sensitive kid and when subjected to enough pressure #his insecurity fearfulness and powerlessness mutate into distrust resentment aggression suffocating repression and self-restraint #I don't think he's a bad person in fact he consistently tries very hard to do the right thing #do his job properly avoid letting people down and get through life with a sense of dignity #but he is supposed to come across kind of cold impersonable and difficult to be around if you don't know him personally (and very few do)#people can sense there's something wrong with him and are put off by it #Vatican is a nest of vipers and as the stakes rise he retreats deeper into his coldblooded untouchable work persona #he has no choice but to start lying scheming blackmailing and eliminating his enemies #in order to maintain his position keep Vasco safe their relationship under wraps and his own head above water #essentially playing by the same rules everyone else in the holy see has been playing with for centuries #eventually he loses his spot as the secretary of state and is manipulated/forced to take on a role in the roman inquisition #and if people were sort of iffy about him before being the authority overseeing trials torture excommunications and executions doesn't help #and since he has so few allies and such an infamous reputation he's an easy target for scapegoating whenever necessary #towards the end it dawns on him that he's become the kind of twisted cruel corrupt person he used to fear and despise #and the guilt moral injury and abject self-loathing had largely sapped him of his will to live by the time the final assassin gets him #answered #anonymous #Machete #Vaschete lore #he thought his dream of priesthood would make him a better person more worthy of admiration safety and love but he climbed too high #and got roped up in the dangerous games that take place under god's nose and slowly got strangled to death

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apollos-boyfriend · 3 months

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gamers. what would you consider the opposite of a goose

#icarus speaks #time sensitive.#very important.

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astralstarlight · 1 year

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good for me

pairing: tighnari x reader

summary: tighnari gets more than he bargained for when he comes across a field of aphrodisiac flowers, especially when he has to deal with you getting 'lost' again

word count: 3.4k

warnings; nsfw content, reader has a pussy, aphrodisiac, slight exhibitionism?, lots of mention + playing with tighnari's ears and tail, "good girl" is mentioned once (by tighnari)

a/n: sensitive ears and sensitive tail! only the last 1.7k+ is horny material <3

Sometimes, Tighnari thinks he's an idiot.

Aphrodisiac flowers give off a distinct scent; something that he's had to learn the hard way over the years. And he knows how much they affect him. But they still entice him in the worst way possible.

"Because that's what they're supposed to do, you idiot," Tighnari mutters. He pushes the ice pack harder against his cheek, hoping to stop the hot flush creeping up his neck.

This time it was a whole patch of brightly coloured flowers in the Avidya Forest. He hadn't even realised he was doing it — rolling around in the bright flowers with reckless abandon, the scent overtaking his nose and a gradual, pleasurable warmth running under his skin. It takes an embarrassingly long time before he pauses in his actions. And it's only because his instincts kick in, telling him that he's being watched. Movement stopped. Breath stilled. Ears listening.

Whatever presence he'd sensed had disappeared. Probably just a fluke. Regardless, at least he'd been close enough to the village to dash back on shaky legs.

He hates this. He really does. Even a habitual twist of his ear sends a hot urge sinking to his stomach.

Just as he's gritting his teeth and deciding how he's going to take the rest of the day off and, preferably, alone, there's a knock on his door. Without waiting for his confirmation, they come in. A forest ranger, out of breath and spilling over with information.

"A scholar. They were coming to deliver their research on to the Akademiya, but they got... There was a Withering." The forest ranger dips their voice, just slightly. "They see familiar in a way? I'm not too sure."

Tighnari's ears twitch at the words. The Withering is still causing problems this close to Gandharva Ville? This is definitely not the time to be distracted by aphrodisiac flowers. Fuck.

"Familiar?" He questions.

Recognition seems to click in the forest rangers eyes. "It's the exchange student. The one who nearly got eaten the first time they showed up here?"

Tighnari tries to stop the way his heart races at the thought of you, once again showing up in the village. Still, it's not good to be thinking of you when he's in this state, or else he might just pounce on you the moment he sees you.

"Show me."

He's got some self-control left. Just a bit.

"I suggest you peruse this Avidya Forest Survival Guide once again, paying close attention to the chapter near the end about the Withering this time."

You're not even listening, Tighnari notes. You're sitting in his bed, blanket pulled over your lap, both hands curled around a cup of warm tea, and nodding. But you're not listening. Your eyes are slowly drifting up every so often up to his ears, before snapping back to his eyes, and honestly, it's kind of rude. He feels his patience snap. Only because he's starting to imagine things, and looking at your hands, and hoping they would be the one coaxing through his tail. He really shouldn't be having these thoughts about someone he's just officially met two weeks ago.

And it's only because of the aphrodisiac, he assures himself. Only because...

"You can touch them if you want," Tighnari says. His mind is finally catching up to his mouth, informing him of how simply terrible this decision is, because if you touch them, he might never ask you to stop. Instead, he watches as you visibly flinch and catches your eyes glancing down towards his tail as he gives it an experimental swish.

Caught in the act.

He's not an idiot. He knows his fur looks soft, and he's caught various other people staring sometimes.

You choke on your drink. "That's really not—"

"Really." He leans forward, towards you. The warm room is getting to him, making him feel just a bit bolder than he usually is. There's probably a realistic, polite part of you that's hesitating. But there's no way the twinkle in your eye or the way your heartbeat races can be imagined by Tighnari. Especially not when he's so oversensitive to every sound at the moment. You're so obvious, and so easy to read.

His gloved hand slowly reaches up to stroke the tip of his fluff ear, and your eyes follow the movement. Your hands around the cup tighten until you're sure that it'll crack under your grip if you squeezed any harder. You take another sip of your now-cold drink. It doesn't quell the flushness in your cheeks, nor the tenseness in your entire body. Tighnari hears, rather than sees, your pulse quicken as you swallow.

He needs to get a hold of himself because he's meant to be hospitable right now, especially to someone who was another lost lamb. It was almost a weekly routine at this point. Someone would get lost, end up here, and he would send them on their merry way.

Except, you've shown up here three times now. The first time was after encountering some carnivorous flowers and reaching a state of shock, the second time was when Tighnari found you wandering of the path, and now, this. Academics usually had a bit more common sense than this.

He narrows his eyes. "What were you doing this time?"

Your cheeks flush at his words, fingers thrumming against the cup's surface. "I thought I saw you, so I was coming over to say hello. But," your voice quietens. "You seemed busy."

Tighnari freezes. A feeling of dread running through his body. If you saw him earlier, then that means you saw him in the flower field. But that's not the worst part. Tighnari knows he's rarely quiet when the heat overwhelms him, which means you most likely heard him making the most pitiful sounds.

"They were aphrodisiac flowers." No point lying to you now. "I'm very sensitive to them, unfortunately."

"Aphrodisiacs?" You repeat, eyes widening.

"Yes."

He watches you open your mouth to say something, then close it just as quickly. To be fair, he doesn't know what compelled him to tell you the truth. The cup all but clatters from your hand onto the side table, and you're wrenching the blanket away from you quickly.

You stand up, smoothening down your clothes even though there aren't any wrinkles. "I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time." You bow your head quickly. "I think I remember the way to the Akademiya. Thank you." You pause. "Tighnari."

Oh fuck.

With just one word, his mind runs wild, hearing your voice in other tones — a pained, needy voice calling out his name. He can very easily picture you panting in his ear. The room feels like it's burning all of a sudden. He clears his throat.

"No worries!" He says, cringing at the cheerful tone. "Stop by anytime!"

He needs you to leave. Right now.

And thankfully, gratefully, you do; eyes still looking towards the floor. Tighnari hears the nervous thump of your heart as you brush past him; but you don't look back.

A wave of relief washes over him. He lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, feeling every muscle in his body relax except... the heat running through him is worse now. And it's not something he can keep ignoring.

There must be a higher power out there working in his favour because, not a moment later, the forest ranger who announced your arrival bounds through the door. This time announcing your prompt departure.

"Alright. Please let everyone know that I'm not to be bothered for the rest of the night. I think I need some rest." He prays they let this slide. Please, just one more thing.

The forest ranger nods their acceptance of his request, and darts off again.

But Tighnari isn't thinking much about that anymore. He's crumpled over on top of his bedsheets and dragging his pants down to relieve the tightness over him. He makes the mistake of pressing his nose into the pillow.

It still smells like you. And he can still hear the lilting tone of your voice, imagined to be just a bit higher pitched and whiny, saying his name. He pulls a glove off his hand with his teeth, hissing as it makes contact with his warm length, teeth immediately clamping over his bottom lip to stop any further sounds.

It was going to be a long night.

You, on the other hand, are hesitantly standing at the edge of the village. The path should take you to the Akademiya in no more than two days. You know. You've gone through this way many times. Way more than the other three hindrances that have caused you to catch Tighnari's eye.

Tighnari.

He'd offered to let you touch his ears, and you'd still walked away, said no, been very polite, and where did that get you? Frustrated and annoyed. Especially because you've been spending the last two stops in the village trying to get the courage to ask. The opportunity slips by yet again.

But then you remember his heat-filled gaze. Is touching his ears an intimate thing? And the aphrodisiac flowers he was talking about earlier...

You decide right there and then to take the winding, twisting path back up to Tighnari's place, and say you would like to touch them actually, and it didn't matter if it was going to make things weird because you were interested anyways—

Your thoughts cut off as you reach his front door and hear a muffled groan. Not a pained one by any means. A low heat drops to your stomach, and begins to travel further downwards. Ah, this is the opportunity to leave right? This seems like a very private moment to walk in on, and not what you intended at all. You can simply send him a letter to request a visit, or drop by another day. But your feet stay frozen in place, refusing to move, even as a louder noise leaves Tighnari's lips.

There's a small opening in his window, and you really shouldn't be peeking inside, but your eyes dart to a movement out of the corner of your eye and your brain short-circuits. It's mostly just bare skin, but you can guess the position he's in, just from the peek you're given.

Your fingers unconsciously trace up your thigh.

And then, you freeze again as Tighnari moans out your name.

He's perched on all fours, rutting into his bare fist.

"Fuck." He mutters, brushing his thumb over the head of his pulsing cock and feeling his breath hitch. It's not enough. He doesn't stop his movements, even when he hears you slip in through the door, a nervous look on your face. He's known you've been watching for a while. Every bone in his body is ushered into high alert, especially at the state he's in. It also means-he bites his lip on a moan again as his tail tangles in the sheets-he's extremely sensitive.

A very dangerous part of his mind wants him to give you a show.

You stop a few paces behind him, hands hovering in midair. "Tighnari?"

It's not like what he's doing has hit you yet. It's just one thing for your eyes to see it and another for your brain to fully register what you've walked in on.

He rolls over onto his back, face flushed and ears twitching wildly at the top of his head. You step towards him once he opens himself up for you, and his tail wraps around his thigh.

Would his tail be wagging rigorously in excitement if he didn't do that? You don't know how this all works but—

"Please." Tighnari whines. He's a disheveled mess, made even more so when his hands push his shirt up, past his stomach and brushing over his nipples. There's not a single thought running through your head right now, except for just how pretty he looks, splayed out before you.

You definitely haven't misheard him moaning your name, because he's still moaning it in the same pleading tone, even now.

Moving closer to him still, you hesitate. Maybe you're imagining it, but you swear you're close enough to feel the heat of his body and there's nothing you'd like more than to press up against him. Still. This is weird, right? Tighnari and you don't have this kind of relationship.

His next words stop you. "Touch me, please."

He chokes back a moan as your hand grabs his tail in a stroking motion — not too hard, not too soft. He might be able to cum just from your touch alone. This is bad. This is definitely bad. This is—

"Hng!" It's impossible not to let that one slip out. Your fingers deftly brush over the tip of his tail, curious and tentative, but growing bolder with every whimper you drag out of him. A sharp pain runs on his hand, and it takes him a bleary moment to realise it's because of himself, biting down hard on his gloved hand to stop the embarrassingly loud sounds leaving his lips.

It's only then that he realises you've laid yourself down next to him, perched up on one elbow. Your other hand is still wrapped around his tail. You're so close to him. Your eyes are focused on his expressions, watching as his eyes squeeze shut, back slightly arching into the air every time you dance your fingers over the fluffy length.

His eyes refocus from the pleasure when he notices your mouth moving. The words pass through one ear and out the next, and he's not registering it at all. Wait. His name. You're mouthing his name. In his haze, he's not really sure he understands what you're saying, so he does the next best thing.

His still-gloved hand reaches up to cup your face, thumb stroking over your cheek. Your eyes soften, and you lean over to press your lips to his hesitantly.

Tighnari wants to laugh. You're touching him in ways that he's only touched himself in, and you're still nervous over kissing him. Everything about you is so warm. The hand on his tail, and even the way your lips move against his spreads a warm feeling throughout his whole body.

It's when you move to a more stable position and allow your other wandering hand to brush over one of his ears, that he absolutely loses any sense of self-control. His vision blurs and he's rutting his hips into the air, gasping into your lips. You pull away quickly, hand stopping the movement on his tail but still stroking over his ears. Gently.

You lean down further, pressing a kiss against his jawline and travelling up to his ears. "They really are so soft," you whisper.

He whimpers, trying to bury his face into your neck.

"I still..." He pauses, watching as you pull back from you to meet his gaze again. You tilt your head to the side, a smile beginning to appear on your lips. "If you..." He trails off again.

You're not going to make him say it, right? He feels an embarrassed flush settle in his chest. His whole body still feels like it's on fire, as though he's going to combust if he isn't touched properly in the next few seconds. And you're certainly not helping. Not with the way you're running one hand through his hair, and twisting his hair around his ears, nor with the way your other hand is lightly brushing over his skin, leaving small warming spots in its path.

He gestures vaguely towards his hardening cock and you let out a small laugh. "Yeah, I can help with that still. If you need." But you say it as more of a statement than a question.

You leave his side briefly, and he almost lets out another whimper. His mind still feels hazy, coming down from his high. The sensitivity in his body overrides his instincts, and he doesn't hear you coming.

You hitch one of your legs over his middle, straddling him. He feels faint. Your bare thighs cling around his sides and he feels everything. You're not wearing anything under there. You must have taken it off after you moved away. And—

You lift the bottom of your shirt that's covering the rest of your decency and Tighnari genuinely thinks he might cum again, just from the sight alone.

You, on top of him, plunging your fingers into your depths and stretching yourself out to take him in. It's so loud. You're so loud. He's so sure that the sinful sounds leaving your lips will ring in his ears the next time he even looks at you.

If he wasn't in such a blissful state already, he absolutely would like to see how you would feel on his fingers. His free hand tugs off the remaining glove, reaching for your thighs.

You're soft. He thinks he's starting to get what you meant when you were stroking his ears earlier.

Your name leaves his lips unprompted, and you turn to look at him. All motion stopped.

You speak first. "Is this still okay?"

Tighnari nods, not trusting his mind to phrase the word properly. It's enough. He's still biting back a guttural noise from the back of his throat as one of your hands reach behind you to wrap around his cock. It's already fully hard again. Tighnari can't tell anymore whether it's still the aphrodisiac clouding his mind, or whether it's just because of you.

Really, all he can feel right now is you. Your thighs surrounding his waist, your hand causing a wave of pleasure to run through his body, and even the scent of you is starting to fill his lungs. Still, he grabs your arm. He needs you to be sure.

"I want this." He says, combining it with what he hopes comes out as a reassuring nod.

It's enough for you. There's no more hesitations with your movements when you move to take him in; inch by pleasurable inch. He slides straight into your warm tightness so easily, and he can feel you collapse onto him, panting into his neck while you adjust. He's glad. He needs this time to adjust to, especially with you clinging so tightly around him.

You feel him stretching you out, and he's whispering in your ear, wildly incoherent. Does he even know what he's saying anymore? Awkward mumbles of "good", followed by a shaky breath, and then "girl".

He's good. He's so good to you, really. Still trying to gain back some semblance of control when you both know who's really taking the reins here.

"It's okay, Tighnari." You run your hands over his ears, drifting down to the back of his neck. "You can take it."

He mewls, bucking up into your soft form without hesitation. It wins him an uncontrollable moan form your lips. He's all ready to coax the same sound out of you with the movement again, when he feels you moving on top of him — hands settling over his stomach as you lift your hips up. There's a slight brush of cold air against his exposed cock, but it's quickly returned to wonderful heat when you drop back on to him.

It doesn't take long until he's cumming again. It's hot and so good, that he's sure he blacks out for a bit this time, blinking back to focus as you softly stroke his head, in-between his ears.

He winces.

The extra stimulation from his ears runs through his body, and it feels almost painful. Your hands stop as you notice. Tighnari laughs, breathy and rumbly through his chest.

"Well." He says, eyes shining bright and tail weakly swishing under him.

You raise an eyebrow. "Well."

"I want to apologise first for dragging you into this mess. Truthfully, I..." His words trail off as he notices you vigorously shaking your head.

"No, don't be sorry at all. It was..." You trail off.

Tighnari leans up on his elbows, albeit shakily, with a small smile on his face. "I think..." His eyes land on your exposed collarbone meaningfully before travelling up to meet your gaze. "I might have to return the favour at some point."

"Oh?" A smirk tugs at the corner of your lips. "When were you thinking?"

Tighnari lifts a finger up to drag along your neck — pale and unmarked. "Just give me a minute."

#tighnari x reader #tighnari smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #— alathea writes #i love him so much #had very strong thoughts on sensitive ears and sensitive tail (which is what this fic was called for a long time)#i am also guesstimating alot of things in this fic (see: time taken to walk to the akademiya from gaddharva ville)#this was also one of the first things i wanted to write for kinktober (that never came to fruition because uni sucks) but its finished now

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tangledinink · 5 months

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new gemini update was so good as always but I can't stop thinking:

big mama: there's nothing wrong with my sons

splinter: you fucked up two perfectly good kids is what you did. look at blue. he's got an eating disorder

wwhhhattttt? nooo, don't be silly. leo doesn't have an eating disorder.

leo and donnie have eating disorders--

#this is a Joke but also No It's Not #it's just different flavors lmao #but both of them have absolutely fucked relationships with food #my poor babies... :(... who did this to you...?#(it was me i did)#leo spends a lot of time worrying about whAT hes eating and how mUCH hes eating and if hes eating the rIGHT thing #largely due to his mom and also just being a celebrity/child celebrity in general #but also in part due to:#donnie has a lot of food sensitivities which have really never been accommodated for at all and as a result he just #has a very negative association with food and eating. he doesnt LIKE eating and he avoids it a majority of the time.#its stressful and unpleasant and he doesnt like it #which ofc only gave leo another reason to hyperfixate on food and calories and nutritional value etc etc etc #which leads to #ironically #leo (who def has an undiagnosed ed and restricts/denies himself food regularly): worrying abt making sure donnie eats enough #donnie will do the same thing back sometimes but not with the same obsessiveness that leo does #esp because the ideals surrounding eating and dieting set up around them really kind of just #lead them both to believe (at least to an extent) that leo is fine and eats a totally healthy and ok amount of food (esp in comparison to d #(no he doesnt)(and even when he does thats not the point)#tw eating disorders #cw eating disorders #eating disorders #tw disorders eating #cw disordered eating #disordered eating #gemini au asks #asks #anon

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sergle · 5 months

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if anyone wants to know what kind of day mr. Hugo had today, it got to be So So Very About Him. let me take you through it - went to the lake first thing in the morning, got wet and ran around full-tilt and got tired - in the evening, came along with us to a christmas lights festival thing at the park. got to walk around and have fun, was petted by ~30 people - at some points, he was surrounded by a closed Circle of very small children patting him and saying he's nice. - received whippy cream at a coffee place drive through - got to walk around petsmart and do Dog Browsing there - got admired by two of the girls working the checkout bc they enjoyed his Sit Pretty so much - MET A POMERANIAN PUPPY AT THE STORE. (this is more important to me than him) touched noses with VERY SMALL pomeranian puppy. oh my fucking god. - got greeted at another drive thru (I got popeyes. only god can judge me) and got given, because they aren't pre-loaded with treats for drive through dogs, a girl gave him (after asking) (he can take it) (he was really locking eyes with her) An Entire Chicken Tender. Hugo's relationship with drive-through windows gets progressively more and more Expectant. anyway. very full day for mr. Hugo. We also got a couple pics of him doing paws / sit pretty / high five-ing in front of the lights. here are those!

#sergle.txt #Hugo #sergle's pets #sergle selfies #<-- i guess?#don't look at me just look at him. i was not PLANNING on being photographed.#but the scarf and hat I'm wearing were both made by me heehee #I keep his diet very dog-oriented at home but baby if we're going on A Trip and the rest of us are getting some type of treat #I very much let him have a little treat too. he likes to be included #didn't used to be able to do this tho because he had a very sensitive tummy for a very long time

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daily-hanamura · 7 months

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#persona 4 #p4 #persona 4 golden #p4g #hanamura yosuke #yosuke hanamura #tatsumi kanji #kanji tatsumi #YOSUKE KANJI FRIENDSHIP IS THE BESTTTTT (and also very canon i can pull out receipts any day man)#kanji may not be as attuned to yosuke as yu tends to be (who else can communicate with just glances at each other) BUT #he gets it!!!#kanji also has a hard time being articulate! he says things he doesnt mean and he comes off rude and abrasive but he doesnt. mean. them.#he calls his mum an old hag but GOD does he fucking love his mother.#kanji and yosuke are both at their core very sensitive individuals but they both maintain this facade of “masculinity” to hide it #and it makes this particular moment all the more precious bcause they're talking without pretention but freely with their hearts #and its this wonderful beautiful moment that they get to share #and you know what makes it better? its that it's just one of MANY #he's good with his queue

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ticklepinions · 5 months

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Everytime I come back here I get a fun lil story!!!!

So! Where to even begin!???

My friend and I were having a sleep over and we are like really physically affectionate, so during our nightly cuddles they were rubbing my back. Next thing I know my back is arching and I let out a screech. So I'm there dumbfounded and my friend is obviously confused but pauses and says "oh did that tickle you?"

Ah! No! (Yes-) what caused me to uh squeal was my friend started "walking" their fingers up and down my spine- when I tell you that shit tickles like crazy-

Anyways!!!! You'd think today was better but NO! There was so. Much. Tickling. Idk what it was but my entire friend group must've been bitten by the tickle bug cause what even was today-

It started with one friend poking me- (while I was minding my own business btw!) and me retaliating. To then me subsequently getting chased (and if you know me you know I PANIK because I cannot stand being chased and I freeze and scream and all that fun stuff). Then getting my arms forcibly raised above my head while ANOTHER friend comes and pokes the living daylights out of my sides, stomach and ribs. All the while the rest of our friend group watched and one even recorded the ordeal- 😀😀😀😀😀😀

I swore my revenge so stay tuned I guess....

Oh!!!! You thought that was it!? HAHAHA. No!

There's more!

All in the same day!! My friends (like 5 of us altogether) are all hanging out and one of them throws their legs over my lap. Another friend comes up to us and starts doing the egg crack thingy to us. Yes it tickles me but not enough to make me really laugh. But my other friend! Oh boy he was already begging! The friend who pinned my arms in the above story suggested we tickle him. And tickle we did. I was in charge of holding a leg and tickling his stomach and sides. Y'all the laughter- the joy- it was just- words can't describe it actually. But imagine 4 of your friends holding you down and like tickling the shit out of you.

Long story short, I did get revenge on one of my friends and I got help pinning him down and just going to town with the tickles. The funniest thing is everyone was relying on me to know his tickle spots (yeah I'm the resident tickle monster please don't shame me 😔). He was acting all stoic and tough and claiming he's not ticklish. And he almost got away with it, I was poking and scribbling his ribs which would normally work but he held it in pretty well. But I knew under his arms/uppermost rib was a good spot. Once I got there- his facade dropped instantly. He genuinely burst out in surprised laughter and started flailing everywhere. We even challenged him to 20 seconds of tickling- which he agreed to!?!? I was trying to tickle his ankles and unprompted he's like "feet are my most ticklish spot". Thank you. You sweet friend o mine for revealing that info. With permission I took his shoe off and started tickling. He scrunched his eyes, turning redder every second but the minute I reached his toes he was cackling again.

And that pretty much was it- my favourite part aside from the tickles was just the consent, trust and mutual respect we all had for each other. Once someone said stop we did. We gave them breaks and time to catch their breaths. We made sure we weren't hurting them or making people uncomfortable by holding them down, like it was just so great to see???? Like wow basic human decency exists?!!! And in MY friend group? Chefs kiss dawg, sloppy style.

#twordpinion #tword community #storytime with onion #ticklepinion #so that happened #we will not speak of me being the lee #lee onion does not exist #I bite #ler onion is very much having the time of his life #can now confirm people who are a bit high are so sensitive

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blue-unifox · 1 month

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Thought to experiment a bit! Top left model is Thando Hopa and I couldn't find the bottom left one's name unfortunatelyu

#pyre #the vagabond #moontouched girl #sgg #like we know ae has a pretty wild hair #as if its actually very puffy and curly #and she has albinism on top of that sooo #thought it'd be cool to draw her off of actual black people w/ albinism #+ some other fun stuff #me: time to use ref for drawing! also me: proceeds to change the stuff drawn from references lmao #also middle left one is i thought abt how people w albinism have pretty sensitive skin for the sun rays #so she'd probably wear smt like that realistically #my art

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canisalbus · 4 months

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I find little Machete being happy over bread baking to be so endearing, especially because I can imagine a world in which helping with baking was one of the few childhood joys he had (due to the lack of art of him happy as a pup), and then remembering the art you did months back of modern Machete making a souffle, I can see reincarnated Machete being drawn towards baking in his free time due to those residual feelings from his past life.

#aww dang #it's funny you remembered the souffle and made that connection #I didn't even think of that but it's very fitting #to be fair the part of his childhood he spent as an oblate in the monastery was relatively worry-free and uneventful #small children are good at making their own fun it often doesn't take much to make them happy #Machete was nervous and sensitive as a kid that's just part of his innate personality but that doesn't mean he was miserable all the time #things started to get difficult when he was old enough to start his apprenticeship #and his master was way harsher than he was prepared to handle #answered #lunalemures #his life would've been less turbulent if he had chosen to stay in the monastery and become a monk instead of pursuing a clerical career #baking bread or tending the library #with bland regular meals twice a day and bedtime at 6 pm #but he would've never met Vasco of course

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northern-passage · 11 months

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i've been thinking a lot about the word "representation" and what it means and how it's changed over the last few years, particularly when it comes to the writing/publishing landscape but also in movies and tv shows… and i really don't like it anymore. to be clear, of course i think it's important to have diversity in your work, i'm not saying i hate the concept of representation. but i do really dislike the way it's used now, and i really just hate the word itself

in a broader sense it's just become a marketing tool. i'm not impressed by any publisher or author who just describes their book by listing all of the minorities/identities the characters represent as if that should be enough. it feels very gross, very exploitative and disingenuous. it also really bothers me because it's always marginalized identities- which i understand Why, but it feels very othering to me (and again. Very exploitative as an advertisement). you would never list out "cishet able-bodied white man" as a character description to pat yourself on the back over. so why do it to everyone else? why insinuate that one is the "default" and the other one is "special"? (and when i say this i'm mainly talking about advertisements/marketing. i understand why people would specify about characters in descriptions with the plot, but i don't like to see an ad that's just "this book has gay people!" with nothing else)

which then leads me to my other point, which is that a lot of people treat "representation" as if it's "too hard." like "oh i don't know enough to write about that, i don't have that experience, etc" which is a fair way to feel! however… it's weird that people only say this about writing trans characters or characters of color. i'm writing a story right now with a character who is really into motorcycles. i personally do not know that much about motorcycles, so i researched what parts are what & what different kinds of models there are & what basic bike care looks like. i guarantee Most people will have to google something at some point in their writing process. so what's the problem? it also, again, feels very othering when authors treat certain groups of people as "impossible" to write, "too hard" to understand. they are just.. people. you write them as a person. and then you figure out the rest later.

and i think part of the refusal or fear to write something outside of your experience is because of the way representation is treated as So Special. these characters are So Special that they aren't allowed to be anything other than "representation." they're Not allowed to be characters with complex emotions and interesting motivations, they have to just be Trans or Gay or Disabled or whatever. they're not allowed to be people. which means, at the end of the day, we loop right back around to where we were at the start….

there is bad representation. there are depictions of certain marginalized people that are harmful and that are damaging, i'm not trying to minimize that or argue against it at all, in fact we should all be mindful of that while writing and reading. but i also think it's possible to swing too far in the opposite direction as well and put certain groups of people on a pedestal and not allow them to do anything at all but be Perfect Representation, if that makes sense.

#anyways. is this anything #sorry i dont have anything insightful to say at the end here i just wanted to ramble #especially abt the way ppl market books now it like. genuinely disgusts me #cannot imagine marketing tnp in that way. my characters are many things AND they are trans. and their transness #is not just a flashy feature for attracting attention #also i do understand the fear of 'getting it wrong' but that's why you have beta readers or even actual sensitivity readers #that's why you ask for feedback. especially in this space like... people will give it #that's what makes sharing your process and early draft in this community so rewarding #and there's also just the reality that no matter what you do some people will Not like it 🤷#and ime a lot of ppl look at representation very individualistically #as in it's only good representation if it represents Me #which sucks. and you're never going to please those people #ANYWAYS also to be clear this is not a vague or meant to be targeted at any one person please don't be fucking weird #this is just some thots i've had recently esp since ive seen the representation conversation pop up quite a few times #and since i've been doing research for characters in my other project #personal

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