#the-inner-musings-of-a-worm

[stabbyfoxandrew]

vampdrew i chant with glee

WIP Wednesday (6/18) | Vampire Andrew AU (Part 268)

KEVIN

When his name falls out of Andrew's mouth, Kevin lets his other leg slide down to join the first and braces himself for another scolding. Another warning. Another rejection. But the vampire says nothing else and Kevin's name hangs between them while Andrew stares into his eyes, head cocked to one side and ears twitching just so. Kevin stares back at him and wonders whether Andrew's listening in on an argument downstairs or if he hears a mouse in a Dumpster across the street.

"Neither. I wath—" Andrew cuts himself off with a grimace, his fangs flashing in the light from the tall lamps in the parking lot. Kevin's eyes drop to them and his own mouth falls open. 

Teeth shouldn't be pretty. They're teeth. Sharpened bone made for rending flesh, for feeding, for killing. Kevin thinks they're pretty anyway. That they're in Andrew's mouth likely has a lot to do with it. Kevin rather likes Andrew's mouth. His lips are on the thin side, the bottom one just slighter bigger. If memory serves they fit nicely against Kevin's, the one and only time they kissed. Andrew's nostrils flare at the thought but Kevin can't find him in it to care much. If he's getting grounded either way, he might as well think all he wants.

"What are you listening for?" Kevin finally asks. The vampire takes a deep breath, then another, until his fangs disappear. With one final, shaky breath he runs his tongue over his teeth. 

[forlorn-crows]

crow u know we need rain and dew going crazy over each other's pussies now right

here's the third of the unrelated trilogy of ghoul pussy, i GUESS. i hope it Ruins you. consider Dew still freshly shaven here, too.

their cunts are french kissing and rains the only one with a tongue, you catch my drift?

obviously we've got T4T raindrop here. cunt/folds/cock/dick used for both of their anatomies. rain has a tentacle, referred to with she/her >:)

tagging @divine-misfortune and @askingforthesun bc i tortured them with this

“Oh shit, why’s it . . . why’s it so—” Rain stutters for the right words, thoughts washed away by the sensation of delicate skin on skin.

“Milky,” Dew finishes for him with a groan. “Fuckin’ hells, starfish.” Rain’s grind falters when the fire ghoul reaches to where their bodies meet and runs a finger down the length of Rain’s plump little dick, collecting some of the creamy white slick that’s caught in the hair surrounding it. The water ghoul digs his nails into the leg that’s hiked over his and pressed to his torso, leaving marks in Dew’s upper thigh. 

“Dew—”

“S’ hot,” Dew breathes. His fingers trails up and down the length of Rain’s cock again—he watches it twitch under the pad of his finger, retracting up towards the hood and back down again. He expects to find a growing bump beneath it, a curious appendage pushing her way out. But he doesn’t.

“Should let her out,” Dew muses. “Bet she’d love all this mess.” He rolls his hips, accentuating the lack of friction between them. “Nice and slippery for her.”

“Shit,” Rain hisses. He can’t help but match Dew’s movements, grinding as he bucks up. “You—you want her to come out?”

“You know I do.”

Rain groans.

“Could snuggle right in between us. Make us both feel even better; don’t you want that, starfish?”

The water ghoul bites his lip, nodding after a moment. With another look between them, he admits: “Might need a little coaxing today.”

“Shouldn’t be hard, considering how much she loves me,” Dew smirks. It earns him an eye roll and a tail smack to the thigh. “Hey—c’mere. Let me help.” He pulls Rain into a kiss, lingering and deep. It doesn’t take much to get hot and heavy again, pulling apart to pant into each others’ mouths just to dive back in again. Dew snakes his hand between them to pet along Rain’s folds. Curling his fingers against that specific spot just below his cock and right above the start of his inner lips. If he prods just right, he can feel the tip of her, snuggled somewhere deep inside.

“Shy today,” he whispers. “Feel okay, starfish?”

“More than,” Rain gasps. “Fuck, just—keep stroking there.” He rolls his cunt against the fire ghoul’s hand, and Dew feels a shift. “Shit,” Rain curses again. “Gills—kiss me there. She wants it.”

Dew purrs and weaves a hand into the water ghoul’s hair, tipping his head just so. “Anything for her.” He tucks his face into the curve of Rain’s neck and nuzzles close, kissing the delicate skin. Rain moans long and low. 

It’s quick after that: Dew presses his lips around the middle set of gills and sucks on the fins. Paired with quick little licks at the filaments, Rain’s panting and writhing in under a minute. The bump grows and grows under Dew’s hand, until the membrane thins enough to reveal a slit—and the inhabitant within. 

“That’s it—hi, beautiful,” he coos. 

Slowly, the tip of his tentacle reveals itself, inky blue and coated with fluid. She dances out to meet Dew’s hand, twisting and slithering along the length of his fingers. 

“Satanas, sit up, wanna see her—show her off for me.” 

Rain does his best to do so with his thighs quivering. Threatening to squeeze together as she wriggles her way out. But he drops an equally shaking hand down to his sex so he can spread his folds, tentacle worming out between them. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” Dew strokes along the length of her, watching Rain’s face contort with pleasure, deep indigo blushing across his cheeks and chest. He squeezes around the thick base, just large enough that his fingers don’t touch. She pulses under his palm, and Rain bites back a groan. Entrance squeezing around nothing.

“Wanna get inside,” he whimpers. “Feels s’ good.” 

Dew hums. His tentacle continues to wrap around his fingers, shallow suction cups kissing the spaces between them. She travels to the inside of his wrist, dipping down to latch onto his bare mound instead, cool suckers a flash of relief on his heated skin. 

“Yeah,” Dew breathes. “Just like that, keep going . . .”

“Fuck, you’re so soft,” Rain groans. The appendage may behave as if she were her own entity, but, of course, Rain feels everywhere she goes and everything she touches with heightened sensation. “She wants in—fuck, wants it bad, Dew.”

The line of suckers drags along his dick, and the fire ghoul’s composure slips a little. “Oh gods, put her in, Rainy.”

The water ghoul nods. Frantic up and down movements of his head as his tentacle continues her descent towards Dew’s inner folds, sliding along slick-coated skin until just the tip breaches his entrance. Dew drops his head back onto the pillows with a groan and spreads his legs as far as he can in their pretzeled position. Welcoming her with an involuntary squeeze as her suckers start to catch. 

“Warm,” Rain breathes. All is quiet as she wriggles her way in deeper. Slides in as smooth as a tongue: just as wet and three times as thick. The water ghoul’s face is lax with pure bliss as his tentacle squeezes into place, only his eyebrows quirking slightly when Dew rolls his hips to slide her home. 

“H-oh, fill me up—” Dew grits out. “Fuck, right there.” The tip of her snuggles deep inside. It’s perfect pressure as she molds to fit all the crevices of Dew’s most private spot, burrowing into places he can’t reach with a cock or the longest of fingers. She’s like water itself, connecting him quietly with the element he’s long since given up. 

It makes him throb something fierce, cunt gripping around her like his body intends to never let her go. 

Rain hisses and bucks against him. “Shit, keep doing that,” he wheezes. “Oh, Belial.” 

“Move those hips, baby, c’mon—” Dew moves his own to encourage the other, angling his pelvis to make the head of their dicks kiss. Sweet, sweet momentary friction that makes them both shudder. But it does the trick, kicking Rain’s hips back into gear. 

“Yes-yes-yes,” he spews. Once he starts he doesn’t stop, slender hips kicking up a medium tempo as he grinds their cunts against one another. Inside, his tentacle matches his movements; she undulates at the same pace, grazing all of Dew’s sensitive points.

“Fuckin’ hells, starfish, that’s good,” he groans. 

There’s a fine tremble in Rain’s thighs as he shifts onto his hands. It’s instantly more intense—the weight over Dew’s lower stomach and the contact between their cocks gets him aching; he can feel Rain throb everywhere. 

“Mmpf. Dew,” he keens. “Think I’m gonna—shit—”

The fire ghoul grips his bicep, rolling his hips even harder. Straining. Gasping at the slick now running down his taint. “Yeah? You gonna ink in me, baby?”

“What the fuck,” Rain whines. “I don’t—ink, I don’t do tha-hah-at.” He tries to look the fire ghoul in the eyes, but his head drops right back down when Dew clenches around him. 

“No?” Dew goads further. “Not gonna get me all wet? Let her get messy?” 

The water ghoul doesn’t know what to do. He coughs out a cross between a moan and a curse, stammering through a denial. Anything that comes out of his mouth next, Dew won’t believe anyway—the way his body jerks is evidence enough for him that the idea only brings him closer to creaming over them both. Rain is in shambles, but the sick satisfaction only spurs Dew on. 

“You might not, but your body wants to. Can feel how wet and thick she is,” he continues. “Lucifer, what would it be like, d’you think?”

“Fuck, Dew, fuck, you can’t–uhhnf—you can’t say that, I’m–I’m gonna—”

“C’mon, cum inside, wanna feel it,” Dew rasps. “Doin’ so good, just a little more.” 

Rain nearly sobs as he collapses onto his elbows, draping across Dew’s body as his thrusts turn into hungry little humps. His tentacle gets greedy too, pushing up against his cervix in an attempt to get further in. She can’t, Dew knows, but the tightness makes him feel otherwise. 

He curses. “Fuck, she’s really gettin’ in there.”

“Needs it—” Rain huffs. “Tight. Warm.”

“Hah—no wonder she lo-uh-ves me.”

“Tell me to cum,” he wheezes. “Tell—shit, please tell me to.”

Rain can’t see his smirk, but he knows what he’s asking for. “Do it. Ink for me.”

“Fuck!” The water ghoul smashes their hips together and cums with the most embarrassed, gut-punched sound that Dew’s ever heard him make, slick gushing over his cunt and soaking into the sheets below. He gets a hand on himself and vows to make Rain see stars. 

[hangesdarling]

YOU WRITE FOR THE KAKAGURI GIRLS?

yumeko jabami with her house pet reader please

deception — y. jabami

PAIRING. Yumeko Jabami x female reader SYNOPSIS. You’re a housepet that caught Yumeko’s attention. CONTENT. Suggestive content, no explicit smut, kinda fluffy in a way WORD COUNT. 1.0k A/N. yepp anon, i write for kakegurui too! i love the manga so muchh

You're always one to hide your intentions cleverly. Masked by a gentle voice, temperate manner, and vulnerability, the housepet ID around your neck had deceived all. But not her. Yumeko Jabami's eyes are too sharp for your deception.

As everything in Hyakkaou Academy was arranged, it all started with a simple gamble. It was around break time and while most games are ongoing, the game room you came from became a parade of dejected faces. Housepets wishing for another chance to free themselves were met with greater loss, those who are far too greedy and risky have a brand new housepet ID around their necks, but you... Yumeko cannot miss the subtle smile curling at the edge of your lips despite another hundred thousand yen weighing on your shoulder.

You were too lost in your musings to even notice the presence of the girl approaching you. At first, you thought she was just a sweet, thrill-seeking girl who had too much money to spare. You accepted her gamble, thinking it was common for the likes of her to gamble recklessly. 

You were having fun, giving in to her charms as you charmed her back with your smooth words. However, the understanding began to dawn on you like a pile of bricks halfway through the game. Yumeko's game was never a game of luck, none of the cards played could ever win without the level of intuition Yumeko has. 

It was a simple game of three rounds that ended with your loss and yet, Yumeko had already gained the information they needed from you after you won the second round.

After that game, your hand shook as Yumeko enthusiastically took it between hers. You tried to laugh it off, telling her the game got you nervous, that's all. However, the fear rose in your throat as Yumeko gave you a knowing look, one that pierced through your soul and tore away the shroud you concealed yourself with. I can see through you, her eyes spoke. 

This is the end of your deception. This girl with sharp eyes and a deceiving smile came so suddenly and tore away your facade.

Yumeko looked at you, a blush creeping on her cheeks as she caressed your hands between hers. You swore that her brown eyes turned red as she said, "I look forward to gambling with you again, Y/N."

Your hand retracted from hers, and a nervous smile crept on your face as you chuckled, "You sure about that? You can bury me in debt, haha..."

Yumeko giggled softly. That euphonious laugh worming its way to your heart, "Don't think that would happen, Y/N."

———

You know very well that this girl could be the very death of you. Her presence in your life had your persona teetering over the edge, your desire to gamble with the student council becoming stronger. But it was getting hard to hold back whenever you were gambling with Yumeko. The excited glint in her eyes urged you to use all your wits and all the cards up your sleeves. It was like being squeezed out of all the strategies hidden within you for the sole purpose of being a gratifying thing to her. No matter how much you deny it, Yumeko became a newfound fascination you're trying to detest. Whenever you two were left alone, Yumeko couldn't help but be touchy, asking all kinds of things whenever she was kissing you, or sometimes playfully tugging on your housepet ID when she desperately wanted you close.

Yumeko always sees through everything, tearing at the filter of things to get through a more interesting reality. She knew the mutual desire and understanding brewing between the two of you. It wasn't just the heated gambling sessions, or when she pulls you into a kiss but rather an inner, less pronounced desire to seek thrill and fascination within the other.

Her schemes are so lovely, unforgiving, and remorseless, one that dances along with your resolve. After a gamble with one of the student Council members, she wore a housepet ID like a garland, even pulling you close just to tell you how beautiful your cruel necklaces match.

Yumeko gave you that one esoteric gaze only you came to understand. The hunger to gamble. The hunger for something else only the both of you could see.

Gambling came to be Yumeko's life the first time she held a dice, and you've become the love that fueled her desire. The one where she found a divine, almost cosmic understanding. Each touch melts the both of you into one, a mold made to be together to either strike fear or fascination.

At one point, she pulled you aside, hugging you to her chest as her hands wandered around you in a deep desire to bond. You took her blushing, heated face into your hands, relishing her desirous gaze before your lips met hers. The warm brown of your lover’s eyes gazed at you with a perpetual tinge of red. Her gentle arms encircled your waist, creeping a tender hand beneath your skirt. Yumeko wanted to feel every inch of you, the soft smile on her lips contrasting her eyes filled with intent to have you. No one ever came near to the place where you stood in her heart, not even the most insane gambler in the academy.

Yumeko admires your far-reaching mind, and desire to win something more than a stack of money. You carried the humiliation of being a housepet for a greater desire for power. A fault stirring the hierarchy, a quiet force caving away the foundation of Hyakkaou Academy. You were so quiet, yet so poisonous—the perfect dangerous weapon loved by her hands.

Yumeko shared your desire. She wanted to watch the beautiful collapse of this depriving system. After all, every system was bound for ruination to make room for the creation of something tremendous.

Let's gamble to our heart's content, she would say, and make it sound like a chaste confession of love and in her own way, it was.

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

[fayes-fics]

Benedict +Regency+ spanking

Thank you our Queen O'Smut

Kinktober: Benedict + Spanking

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Paring: Benedict Bridgeton x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, spanking, vaginal fingering

Author’s note: hi lovely 🫶 thanks for this. My muse settled on this idea immediately, and I hope you enjoy it! 🧡

Your fingers dig into the plush velvet chaise arm, your toes curl against the polished wood floor, hissing as you adjust to the sting, inner thighs damp already, betraying just how alright you are with what is transpiring.

“Do not pretend, darling wife, you are not enjoying this,” Benedict rumbles silkily into your ear as if intuiting where your thoughts have run. The tip of his nose grazes over your temple, and he inhales deeply, “I can smell how aroused you are.” 

You whimper at his words, his large hand rubbing a soothing circle over the dark bloom on your bottom. Then his hand is gone, and the room reverberates with the sound of his palm slapping down onto your flesh yet again as you groan and push back into his hand.

“Do you have any idea how exquisite this painting will be?” he queries, a rich chuckle into your hairline. “Your beautiful naked body, thighs glistening with want, cheeks daubed with my handprints. I could make a fortune selling such a risque painting in the salons of Paris,” he intones, swirling fingertips over your abused skin. “Luckily for you, I am a greedy man, and this one is just for me…” 

With another smarting slap, those are his parting words as he stalks away, rounding behind his easel. You pant lightly and stare at the rich emerald velvet before you as he picks up his paintbrush, wishing he would just throw you onto the chaise and fuck you so hard your teeth rattle. You imploringly whine his name after a few impatient moments, rubbing your thighs together, needy for relief for your pulsing clit.

“Use your words, darling,” he teases, muffled around a paintbrush he clenches between his teeth as he paints large strokes with another.

“Please… I am aching; please fuck me,” you are almost begging now, bum cheeks burning hot as your cunt.

There is a clatter of his palette and footsteps, then a large hard worms between your thighs from behind, an obscene wet sound as he buries two fingers inside you as you cry out at the invasion.

“So needy,” he huffs, bemused, but you don't complain as you hear his other hand fighting to undo his trouser buttons. 

No taglist as these drabbles are so short

[jtl-fics]

I don't usually love AUs but I have to say foxhole bake continues to delight me with every single update

Always glad that my dear @the-inner-musings-of-a-worm gave me the prompt. It's so much fun to write and think up all the ways that Neil could fuck up baking.

[thiriann]

Extraterrestrial - Chapter 2 "Curiosity"

My Githyanki playthrough inspired me to write a fic about my gith, Ilaara and Astarion's adventures. Haven't written in over a decade but Astarion got me to try again. Astarion POV for most of it.

This is a continuation of an ongoing fic.

You can also find me on AO3

Pairing: Tav X Astarion, F/M.

Content: Githyanki Tav, Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Alien Cultural Differences, Cleric Tav, Astarion Being Astarion, Flirting, Seduction, Biting,Vampire Bites,Blood Drinkin, no sex in this chapter but will be in later ones. Ongoing fic

Words: 1926

Summary: Astarion's curiosity about Ilaara's nature grows.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

He wondered what a Gith would taste like—would she be something exotic because of her nature, or so alien that it wouldn't even resemble blood?

During one of their many explorative runs, they stumbled upon a barn housing an ogre and a bugbear in the midst of a grotesque experiment against nature. This once-in-a-lifetime horror was something he insisted on witnessing firsthand. He had persuaded her to be the one to interrupt them and she had let him have his fun. It had been so much worse than he imagined!

A fine spot of debauchery in the middle of this desolate nature they were in.

The encounter inevitably escalated into violence, and she sustained a severe wound, her arm lacerated from spikes dragged across her skin. She dismissed the offer of a healing potion, opting instead for a makeshift bandage.

"It's a mere flesh wound. By tomorrow, it'll have healed," she declared confidently.

The scent of her blood permeated the air. Far from alien, it smelled tantalizingly sweet.

He lagged a few steps behind, attempting to quell the urge that gnawed at him. Despite having consumed an entire boar the previous night, the craving persisted. The thought of drinking from her was unrelenting.

He contemplated the possibility to do it while she slept, oblivious. She was already injured; a careful touch might be enough to draw forth the blood he yearned for. He swallowed hard, his gaze returning to her. The crimson had seeped through the bandage, now trickling down her arm in rivulets, droplets falling to the earth. He fought the impulse to kneel and lick them before they soaked into the dirt. A wave of shame and revulsion washed over him. He’d done worse for less under Cazador’s thumb. He needed a distraction—urgently.

Then, another scent intermingled with hers—foul and unmistakable. 

" Goblins. I can smell trouble ahead.” he announced, steeling himself for confrontation.

"Git over there. Surround 'em, like," came a badly concealed whisper.

An ambush. Thank the gods.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

As dusk enveloped them, he reclined on his bedroll beside the fire, contemplating the path ahead. It seemed they were nearing the creche, where purification awaited—as Lae'zel and Ilaara often reminded him. On one hand, it promised salvation from a grisly fate; on the other– he’d most likely lose his ability to walk in the sun. And he was still nowhere near figuring out how to control the tadpole.

“It's quite a sight.” he remarked as she neared, a veiled attempt to divert from his inner turmoil. “The stars, I mean. I could take or leave your chin.”

“They are beautiful tonight,” she agreed, gazing skyward, unfazed by his snide comment.

“I can see the stars from Baldur's Gate, of course, but not with such clarity. It got me thinking.”

“Reflecting on what tomorrow might bring, when we arrive at this gith crèche. Will we find out how to bring the worm under control? Will this little adventure of ours be over?” he mused aloud, his voice tinged with a feigned wistfulness.

“Probably. Once the worm is gone, I'm going my own way.”

“A pity. A great pity.” he remarked, rising to his feet “You're quite the ally, after all. Traversing Avernus. Surviving the crash. Surviving everything that's followed.”

Closing the gap between them, he added“I'm not easily impressed by people, but you're stronger than I gave you credit for.”

He could still smell her blood in the air around her.

“I'm just trying to survive. Like you," she replied, her composure unshaken by his proximity.

“Yes, we're more similar than I thought…” he said with his practiced, perfect smile. Yet,her eyes squinted just a fraction, the gentlest of movements before she turned and walked away.

It seemed his attempt at flattery had failed to sway her.

“Sleep tight. I'll see you later, I'm sure.” He called out after her, the temptation to indulge in her blood resurfacing.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ultimately, he resisted the urge and had just gone to bed. However, restlessness soon took hold. He noticed something was off almost immediately. He saw the forest, the same forest they walked through all day so at first he assumed it’d be a reverie about one of his recent hunts. But it was so cold, and so dark – even with his darkvision he couldn’t see anything.

A sense of being prey rather than predator overwhelmed him. “Hello? Is anyone there?" he called into the void.

" First, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures," echoed a voice that sent shivers down his spine.

"Master? I was just coming to see you!”  he stammered, excuses flowing as naturally as breath.

" Second, thou shalt obey me in all things.” the voice continued.

"Absolutely. It's just that I was kidnapped by a tentacle-faced –“ His explanation was cut short; Cazador didn’t care for it.

" Third, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed." the voice commanded, a reminder of the chains that once bound him.

He could feel the old fear turning in his gut, but he forced himself to keep smiling. As he so often  had done before.

"Fourth, thou shalt know that thou art mine.” the voice declared, a possessive force that sought to claim every fragment of his being.

Cazador appeared before him with outstretched arms, ready to take him home.

“Not anymore. I'm free now.” Astarion challenged, his voice a whisper of rebellion.

"Free? Lie to yourself, boy, but not to me.” He laughed “You are mine. Forever.”

Astarion awoke with a start, gasping for air he didn't need. He had to get back to his Master, quickly. If he was late, he’d flail him. Again. What would he think if he saw him now – able to walk in the sun?

But then it dawned on him – if he was free to walk in the sun, did that mean he was also free of Cazador? Of his rules?

There was one way he could find out.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

He loomed over Ilaara’s sleeping form, taking in the sweet smell of her skin, the beckoning beat of her pulse. This could be his last chance to taste her.

If he was gentle enough, he was certain she wouldn’t even notice. He bared his fangs and leaned closer, just a little further…

A sharp inhale brought him back to his senses and he found her eyes wide open, piercing into his.

"… Shit.” He deadpanned, recoiling.

They both rose quickly, and Astarion raised his hands in a gesture of peace, eager to defuse the tension.

" No no - it's not what it looks like, I swear!” Astarion's protest cut through the tense silence. Alarms ran in his head at how bad a situation he’d found himself in.

Ilaara stared at him, frozen, her eyes locked with his. The first thought she had as she saw him leaning over her was that the parasite had awakened a hunger for brain matter. But as she inspected his features in the dim light, she found no trace of the monstrosity she expected.

“I wasn't going to hurt you! I just needed - well, blood," he confessed, the word hanging between them like a forbidden fruit.

Blood? A rather odd craving for a mindflayer.

“I feed on animals. Boars, deer, kobolds - whatever I can get.But it's not enough. Not if I have to fight. I feel so weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please.”

His plea made no sense. On this plane, most creatures fed on animals, didn't they? But a mindflayer would never be satiated by mere animal brains. This hunger was different.

Sweat beaded on Astarion's brow as he met her stoic stare. He got an idea then, a last-ditch effort considering how much trouble he had gotten himself into. he reached out with his mind, seeking a connection through their shared tadpole, hoping to convey at least a bit of sincerity.

She experienced a strange tug in her mind, and suddenly, she was elsewhere— small dirty creature writhed in her grasp. The cold voice of a man spoke and she felt the weight  of countless restraints bearing down until she succumbed, biting into the repulsive fur. The urge to vomit warred with a sense of overwhelming relief.

As the connection severed, her expression darkened—whether from the memory or his use of the tadpole, he couldn't tell.

Within her mind, she wrestled with this revelation. It seemed living blood was a dietary necessity for his kind, yet there was more to it. After all that her people had been through, she could easily recognize the chains of servitude, even from a fragmented memory like this one.

“Why didn't you tell me?” she asked, posture relaxing.

“At best, I was sure you'd say no. More likely, you'd ram a stake through my ribs.” He wasn’t sure that possibility was fully ruled out yet.

“No, I needed you to trust me. And you can trust me.” He tried to sound convincing, he really tried.

"I do. I believe you,"

He tried to wipe the shock from his face After all it wouldn't be very convincing if even he himself couldn't believe she trusted him. And with her apparently not jumping for her weapon he decided to try pushing his luck a little.

" Thank you. Do you think you could trust me just a little further? I only need a taste I swear."

She eyed him suspiciously. He had nerve to ask this even after being caught.

But he had claimed that blood would enhance his combat prowess, and in these dire times, they needed every advantage.

"Alright, but not a drop more than you need." She relented.

" Really?I…of course. Not one drop more," he vowed.

“Let's make ourselves comfortable, shall we?” He moved quickly should she decide to change her mind.

She laid on her bedroll, back stiff as a board, expecting him.

As he kneeled next to her it occurred to him he had no idea how to do this. The nerves and elation made him feel like a godsdamned virgin, but he didn’t have the time to think it over, not when Ilaara’s patience could run out any moment.

He would just have to improvise and try to be gentle. Luckily, as he leaned over her neck instinct took over and he felt the irresistible pull of her blood.  He bit into her with lightning speed, fangs sinking with ease into her delicate skin. He felt her tense under him but not even a sound left her lips.

He waited a moment bracing himself for pain or to be magically propelled across the camp but when her delicious blood suddenly gushed into his mouth, all thoughts of Cazador and his rules were promptly forgotten.

As the first drop touched his tongue, a jolt of vitality surged through him. A warmth bloomed in his chest, startling in its intensity. He thought this would be just another meal, he had expected it to be better than what he had experienced before considering how miserable his previous meals had been. But this was euphoria, a radiance akin to the sun's embrace. He was undone by it, forever altered. Nothing could ever compare to this.

Weeks later he'd still find himself pondering, wondering if it had been her holy faith that made that first meal so decadent, or could it be the fact that it was so freely given. Or maybe it had been her alien nature, her taste truly that exotic.

[citrusitonit]

If Rook was a worm. @flqyd-is-lost

_______

Yuu was just walking through the halls of NRC when he spots a feathered hat on the floor.

Curious, he picks it up.

'It's just a hat,' he thinks to himself, 'but why is it here?'

He looks around. There is no one else. Glancing at the hat one more time, he only shrugs, tucking it under his arm. 'Free hat.' he muses to himself.

Yuu strolls through the empty corridor, whistling a tune absentmindedly.

It was kinda boring today, you know, the weekends. Or maybe it was just because they were somewhere else... Bah, he doesn't really care. Less trouble for him anyway.

His inner monologue is cut short when he hears rapid steps turning the corner, alongside the calls of someone's name.

"Rook! Rook?!" Aster calls out, panicked. "Oh, Vil's gonna kill me..." they mutter.

Yuu only approaches them, waving. "Aster," he greets, "you looking for something?"

Aster nods frantically. "Yes! I'm looking for-" they gasp, eyes landing on the feathered hat in Yuu's arms.

"That hat! Where did you find that hat?" they practically shout, waiting impatiently for an answer.

"O-oh, I found it just around the corner. It was-" Aster doesn't waste a second brushing past him, yelling out a quick thank you as they speed off.

Yuu blinks for a few second, confused. But, he shakes it off in a second, chalking it up to usual NRC shenanigans.

And so, he happily continues his stroll, whistling a tune.

'What should I get for dinner later..? Maybe I could just get from the cafeteria, but then again, we still have a bit of food in the dorm..' he monologues on and on to himself, deep in thought.

"Now that I think about it, I'm kind of hungry..." he mutters, his stomach rumbling on cue. Yuu turns a bit red, he's glad nobody was here to hear that.

But on the thought about food, Yuu perks up, as if realizing something. "Oh wait, didn't I keep a snack bar with me this morning?" he asks himself, fumbling through his pockets.

A grin forms when his hands wrap around a shaped plastic, pulling it out hastily.

A oat bar. Yuu squishes it a bit, and it mushes slightly.

'I think it melted a bit,' he thinks to himself, but still tears off the wrapper with no hesitation.

He takes a huge bite into it, and hums, relishing the taste. Another bite, and another.

He takes one more, and an extra piece breaks off and falls into the grass walkway.

Yuu pauses, staring at it.

Then, he looks around.

I mean... Oats are from the ground anyway, right?

Slowly, he bends down, reaching out for it, only to abruptly pause.

What.. What is that?

There's a.. There's a.. thing. Near the piece of oat.

Yuu doesn't know if he's hallucinating or not. Is this some kind of normal Twisted wonderland insect..?

Beside the piece of oat, is a worm. An earthworm, to be specific.

An earthworm with a bob cut, to be even more specific.

He's... He's unsure whether to be bothered or astonished. The worm's just.. nibbling... on the oat...

It seems to notice his presence after a few seconds, perking up and flopping its body around and starting to wriggle towards his shoes.

Yuu only steps away, disturbed. He.. doesn't know what that... thing.. is. And he doesn't like it.

But the thing persists, continuing to wriggle towards his shoes.

Yuu has a thought, and slowly nudges the worm.

The moment the shoe touches it, the worm thrashes around, and manages to wriggle on top of his shoe faster than he could think.

Yuu has to hold back a shriek when he reflexively kicks the worm off his shoe, stumbling back with a shudder.

Exactly as Jamil turns the corner.

The moment it smacks across his eyes, Jamil almost blasts out a fire spell.

He lets out a shrill shriek, the vice leader swearing loudly in his mother tongue as he hastily flings the worm across him. It lands on Yuu's pants this time, making him yelp and immediately slap it off his leg, but the worm still flung back to Jamil's leg.

The corridor was filled with shrieks and shouts, with Yuu trying to frantically avoid the worm, and Jamil's incomprehensible screeching.

The chaos only ends when the worm is flung in the air again, but lands on someone else's face instead.

Eri winces, rubbing his eyes, until he sees what smacked him. He gasps, scooping up the battered worm, "Rook! We've been looking for you!" he frets worriedly over it.

At this, Yuu pauses, face in disbelief. "Wait, Rook?" Jamil asks incredulously. It's only then that Eri lifts his head, noticing the other two.

"Oh, yeah. We had a bit of a mishap with a transformation potion with Leni and Aster, and accidentally turned Rook into a worm... We were looking everywhere for him." he explains, cradling.. 'Rook'.. gently.

Jamil gapes, sweating a bit. "I.... Whatever. I'm out." he says hastily, sending a narrowed glance at.. 'Rook'.. before taking his leave, not wanting to be near the worm any longer.

Yuu, however, continues staring at the worm, bewildered.

Does this mean Rook basically saw him try to eat food off the ground?

He doesn't wanna think about it.

But hey.. Didn't Rook technically eat ground food too? Despite being a worm, that's still him in there, isn't it..?

Actually, he's really weird, so that's easily excusable.

He glances at... 'Rook', and tries to take a good look at him.

Suddenly, the worm unfurls, and turns to look at him.

Rook stares at Yuu with 2 green bug eyes.

"I know what you are."

Yuu's mouth gapes in horror.

"boy loving gayass."

Yuu jolts awake in cold sweat, hunched over his blankets and breathing heavily.

He's never eating Lilia's cooking ever again.

[rhysofcourse]

A little about my Tav, Piety:

• certified spider licker

• cleric of Selûne

• never loses staring contests (creeps most camp members out)

• rizzing the fuck out of Shadowheart (much to both of their surprise considering Piety is also a Weird Girl)

• obsessed with becoming a legendary hero of Selûne

• fainted at meeting Isobel, a real life servant of Selûne

• finds the brain worm exciting more than anything (much to the chagrin of half of the party)

• weirdly liked by everyone despite inner party tensions being strained at times

• hangs out mostly with Shadowheart, Gale, and Haslin, let’s Astarion drink from her occasionally, watches Lae’zel and Karlach work out together, dances with Wyll, and usually is making sure the party doesn’t rip each other apart

• her own personal hobbies include bickering with her tadpole, doing people’s hair, and studying the moon at night alone

• will Not Hesitate to throw down the instant she is challenged (especially to impress her gf, who is delighted by the chaos)

• Astarion compares Piety’s blood to spiced wine, something strangely nostalgic to him

• Gale, Haslin, and sometimes Karlach if she’s able to manage her mood have poetry night with Piety. Haslin and Gale write lengthy and verbose pieces dedicated to their respective muses, Karlach is able to get through about half a poem she writes about beauty before she gets embarrassed and just shows Piety alone, and Piety writes about the moon

• unphased by threats or intimidation, often gets into trouble this way

• will quietly listen along to anyone who sings

[stabbyfoxandrew]

based on the shows you said you love: you HAVE to watch psych. this snarky, sarcastic and really smart guy is rlly good at solving crimes but he hates cops so he helps them from afar. however, they get suspicious about how he knows so many things and he lies and says he’s psychic. it also focuses on his relationship w his best friend and it’s SO FUNNY

Ahh I actually watched the first episode a while back but for some reason didn't get into it? But I know a few people who like it and I've seen some funny gifsets, so maybe I should try it again sometime! :D

[where-them-kinomiya-at]

ngl, i feel like episode 4.. it's a great example of v-force's attempts at stakes not exactly working out. like, i don't quite know how to explain it but it just feels kind of silly, especially once you get hit with the BEYBLADING ROBOT.

psykick also just... doesn't really land, like you compared gideon to volkov but.. idk, gideon feels a lot more like a saturday morning cartoon villain, y'know? meanwhile volkov feels like a genuine threat. my best guess is that since psykick is kind of distant from the rest of the cast and we mostly just see random goons they don't really have the presence that volkov and borg have

i think a big part of why the digital sacred beasts worked so well is because of how they hit you with the gravity of the situation. it's not like, "woah!! how will our heroes get out of this one?", or atleast it's not like that for most of it, as soon as you see what happens to yuya you realize that yeah, this time they AREN'T screwing around. the fact that we actually get a glimpse into team cybers helps aswell

overall, it's hard to define what exactly it is that v-force misses that s1 succeeds at (g-rev has tonal issues of its own but that's an entire other can of worms), but it's definitely There

Sometimes I feel like it was not Gideon but Dr. B that was the problem. Gideon felt truly evil to some extent but we got to see more of Dr. B who was working for him. He was your everyday psychotic scientist who was batshit feral and that might have ruined the entire vibe.

The people working under Volkov have a terrible and dark past. He was less of a scientist and more of a genius menace and this fact stands out in comparison to the villains in v-force. V-Force picked up elements from season 1 but the introduction of new villains might have been jarring. They were different and had nothing to do with anyone’s childhood. It was all the present, making it less palpable in comparison to s1. This in fact is a huge mistake taken from the writers of this season. They should have associated someone’s background to the villains. This is exactly why the Yuya/Wyatt arc saved the entire first half of V-Force. The interaction between Rei and Salima (practically everything after the Yuya arc) saved it as well.

Also Barthez and Volkov’s connections are basically a repetition of Dr. Zagart and Gideon’s but again…it wasn’t just anyone..it was Volkov. Hence it was deeper.

Overall the inner conflicts, conflicts within every team, misunderstandings, the characters’ uncertainty and their musings and panics were a few elements that were executed very well in this season, much better in comparison to the other two. The Kane/Zeo betrayals for Takao +his rival Ozuma, Yuya for Kai, Salima for Rei and Mariam for Max were some awesome interactions this season and it does make me wanna go watch V-Force again.

Also V-Force antagonists are criminally underrated. I love Ozuma and I think he deserves fame too.

The GRev part is definitely true. I see all it’s flaws now and the one season that used to be my favourite has managed to tick me off real good. In my eyes it’s no where close to s1.

[malusrecord]

i absolutely love how you really worm your way into your character's brains and give us the most perfect inner monologues that feel so personal. i love it i love u

Please tell me your favorite things about my portrayal/muse

((Thank you Blair, you of all people know how...let's say focused...I am about writing such things! I love you too~))

[darkseraphscorner]

O'Neill started at Neph over the interrogation cells table. "Where are they?" He asked coldly.

Neph placed her cuffed hands on the table. "As I said to your jack booted thugs, thanks for the black eye by the way, I don't know." She stares back defiantly, her left eye swollen shut behind her now cracked glasses.

O'Neill took a puff of his cigar and leans on the table. "I ain't buying that, something has been sabotaging company property, first the Synths, now Science Officer Ryan's shuttle, and we both know only one thing in this station has a reason to hate the company, your father's pet Xenomorph, so I'm asking again, where are they?"

Neph leans back on her chair. "And I said I don't know, Faraway is a big station, plenty of air vents to hide in, you could be looking for years and never find them."

Snarling, O'Neill stood up and went to the door. "Shove her in iso, maybe that will lose her lips." As he stepped to the door, there was a flicker and the lights went out before the emergency red lights kicked in. "What the fuck was that?" O'Neill screamed as his security marshals came into the cell to grab Neph.

The teen smirked. "I think you are gonna have bigger problems on your hands."

Bio division.

Ryan snapped up from the computer he was working on as the power switched to emergency. "Curious." He mused. "Our Sabatier has stepped up their game, to what end...."

Meanwhile above the Soldier Xenomorphs containment cell, Xeno had spent the last week slowly stripping away the armoured metal shell that protected the cells independent air cycling unit, worming her way in till she was over the harness hold her sister in place, with narry a noise, Xeno slid her bladed tail along her palm, squeezing out drops of virulent acid onto the soldiers metal harness.

The soldier hissed as her restrains where slowly eaten away, before bucking and tearing herself free, the Synths in her cell quickly raised their weapons before Ryan countermanded them. "The acid blood!" He shouts. "We are too close to the hull, it could cause decompression!"

The moment of hesitation was all the soldier needed, her tail lashing out and tearing one synth in two as she jumped at another, her inner mouth crushing through artificial flesh and metal skull to destroy the computer mind with in.

The other two Synths jumped her, trying to restrain her but she was stronger and more flexible than them, quickly reducing them to a pile of milky white body parts before leaping to the roof of her cell and tearing it open, vanishing up into the ceiling.

There was a dull whump as power was restored, Ryan left staring at the devastation left behind. "Well, things have gotten more interesting...."

[misterdaddylonglegs]

I spent 37 days in osaka, with 28 of them spent refining my japanese speaking abilities. I wish I could say I came out of the kokusai koryu centre fluent, spending the last 9 days of my trip effortlessly flirting with married housewives in shithouse bars along dotonbori, but instead I left feeling lonely and unsure about myself. My main dilemma was a central tenet of my identity was tested; that I can get along with anyone and make friends anywhere.

It seems that this was not the case. I struggled to make friends with the 20 or so other people partaking in the winter intensive course and I rationalised this as a mismatch of personality. That these freakish type-a dorks didn't take up any of my offers to go bar hopping through kishiwada because they were boring and I was literally too much fun that it might kill them. Whilst I was sucking down premium malt lagers they were doing group excursions to the local supermarket. In my drunken musings I thought about how lame they were whilst I, the effortlessly cool guy was trying to explain basketball shoes live from the queen elizabeth hall to the deeply uninterested bartender.

After around 200ish beers and discussions with some of my inner circle back home in Melbourne I realised my perspective was skewed. It was hard for me to admit to myself I've spent $3000 to go overseas and do uni for 8 hours a day just to have no friends, but it was even harder to admit that maybe the other 19 people who so effortlessly formed their own cliques and posses were not the problem but rather I was. After this realisation I stopped focusing so much on how the others thought of me. I stopped trying to show how cool I was by coming in every morning to class with a bottle of water and a can of coffee to soothe my hangover. I stopped clicking my tongue in the cafeteria hall when I heard plans of walking to the beach and skipping stones at night. I put my walls down and instead of dismissing the very basic functions of human friendship as being cringe normie shit, I spent time actually getting to know the people in my course.

3 weeks in I had managed to worm my way into the inner circle. Bike rides and dorm room drinks and nights out in izumi sano followed. I was pretty happy with myself, I managed to do what shinji couldn't (in EoE) I tore my walls down and let myself be known. But as the term finished and we all went our separate ways I couldn't change that niggling feeling of self doubt. That I couldn't fit in and I was to be once again thrown outside of the inner ring to grapple with my loneliness. Because of this irrational worry and my own defensive personality, every day I scrolled through peoples instagram stories watching them have fun together and sunk into my old habit of izakaya's and embarrassingly poor quality japanese conversation. I would be lying if I said it wasn't fun, but it wasn't all too fulfilling either and I would stumble home, feeling an incel like disappointment I couldn't connect deeply with anyone.

Coming home from the trip with 24 hours of transit I had a lot of time to think back about what I'd just experienced. I realised that the only real thing stopping me from connecting with others deeply is my own self doubt, and my bad habit of pigeon-holing others to protect my ego. Whilst my main goal was to become a super fluent MattVsJapan like freak, I think understanding myself at a deeper level and understanding my own anxieties of being loved is not a bad consolation prize.

[bruinescence]

@negativeroom cont.

What would he bring to a rainy night with broad shoulders hunched and chin dripping over a campfire that struggled to lift its flames higher than a finger's length when stretched above a calloused palm he'd flipped over and poised to catch the many tears the night had to offer newly sanctified lands? Nothing that would have required him to remain while the rest of his companions took to the drier shelter of their tents whilst he remained just a moment longer by the dying embers that sizzled upon each meeting of raindrop and hot coal.

The company he kept would have protested to him wandering off into the night on his own, which was why he waited until the good majority of the lantern lights behind tent canvases died down to a more natural cascade of shadows than the curse had previously curdled them into. The very sight of natural darkness his elven gaze pierced easily through brought about a calmness in him that he hadn't felt in a long time. A call to the nocturnal beast he housed within his spirit bid him to wander, and soon he was on a muddy trek along the rocky plains leading away from Baldur's Gate, boots cutting through gathering puddles and splashing rock-bound lichens along the way.

How long had it been since he'd seen these lands in their former splendor? Even under a storm, they throbbed with the promise of life that would surely use the downpour to its advantage in drawing vines and flowers from the earth's cracks to take back what was once knocked out of nature's grasp; the spirit of the land. Drawing closer to an impasse by a craggy drop down into a neighboring valley, Halsin paused to regard the fog billowing within the drop-off before the sound of a cloak flapping in the wind up ahead drew his gaze over to a levitating figure.

Though he'd rather raise his guard higher upon his hackles upon the sight of a mind flayer sans its wild shape of a form that most resembled the sort of companions he was privy to in camp, he waited in silence to see if the being would float closer - or at least more within the realm of a territorial dispute before the lack of one had him regarding the strange form of the illithid behind the subtle, golden glow of his gaze. Such a creature was as alien to him as he imagined he to it even though its spawn resided within the minds of those he'd grown inseparably close to upon their final venture into Baldur's Gate after the last of the Shadow Curse's roots had withered away and released the lands now thirsty for every drop of the down pour that raged above them.

Arms crossed in front of him, Halsin studied the odd being...or was it a parasite? A fully grown one, perhaps. Or perhaps a blending of what was with what had invaded it in the first place...the death of a being and the emergence of another like a gnoll split from a bloated hyena's flank. He held back the grimace at the thought, not too fond of the idea that he might have to witness the same unethical sight from the glassy eyes of those odd travelers he'd come to care for like members of his own grove. It was a fur-bristling thought, though the rain slicked him down well enough that any semblance of frizz in the braids hanging limply over his shoulder was as absent as the lack of a worm's presence between his eyes.

When the thing spoke to him, albeit telepathically, Halsin shifted uncomfortably, though with how he'd heard [Tav] describe the squirming at times, he supposed he was luckier than the lot of them bundled up safe and warm in their tents while their parasites bundled up safe and warm in them. Curious, he thought- though he was not sure if the illithid could pick up on his inner musings without the stationing of a tadpole to serve as a receiving and sending device between consciousnesses. And it wasn't like he believed casting a quick 'talk to animals' cantrip would help him with the strange alien-like attempt at a conversation.

After a moment of contemplation, he decided he'd give a hunch further study. As his fingertips glowed, he swirled them into a pink trail of energy around his palm before moving to press it firmly in the middle of his chest. "Abrade-" The transformation was not as piece-by piece as a wild shape, but the polymorph spell did wonders when it came to spontaneous disguise. After a swathe of well-muscled tentacles fell to rest partially against the wide spawn of his chest whilst curling about in an effort to taste the air with each squirming end, Halsin waited within the frame of broad shoulders he'd drifted down into only a moment before the Archdruid stepped up into the air to float aimlessly under the downpour in a thicker, more muscular frame than his mirrored image. Regarding the mind-flayer beyond the way, his head newly tentacled face tilted just so in morbid curiosity to see just how hostile one of these mind manipulators could get

After a silent bob or two in the air, he ventured out with a mental call of his own, though less involved due to the concentration he needed just to maintain the polymorph form.

[I wanted to watch the negative thoughts finally wash away.] He thought, hazel and lidless eyes trained ahead as newly purple flesh glistened beneath the torrential downpour. Perhaps once the lands had been washed clean of any remnants of the vanquished curse, he would consider taking shelter. But this first downpour since the clearing of the curse made him want to know if in the land's cleansing- his darkest recesses would too see the lifting of some properly buried shadows within his chest.

[And you?]

[e-m-p-error]

💍 She gives Val a necklace made of braided hemp! It has a moth made of clay as a pendant, with hearts of swirled pink and white on its wings.

LEAVE A 💍 IN MY INBOX TO GIVE MY MUSE A PIECE OF JEWELRY

[ Valentino ]

Blinking down at the necklace in his hands, Valentino tipped his head to the side. Considering he controlled Kerosene's income, he knew she didn't exactly have a lot of money to buy him things like this. Knowing her as well as he thought he did, he had a hunch that she'd made this for him.

"For me?" The question didn't hide his confusion, but there was a small, enigmatic smile on his lips, "It's pretty, Cachorro." Usually, he didn't go for gifts that weren't expensive, but Kerosene had wormed her way into a place in his inner circle.

[iruludavare]

Do you feel safe now?

Ask my muse anything, but they can only answer with 'yes' or 'no' || Accepting

By all means, she should feel safe. The region is no longer under threat, the fate of all roaming this world no longer teeters along the edge of one man's selfish desire. No more does Serena hang suspended from tangled threads weaved by words chosen with the sole intent of luring her-- or rather, her prowess-- onto their side. For most, that would be enough. A source of inner peace for decades to come, even if hardship were to present itself once more-- the knowledge that a true crisis, a tragedy of worldwide proportions, has been avoided. Yet any agreement with the sentiment can do little more than claw its way up the back of the heroine's throat, before it catches on itself and has no choice but to bubble away into nothingness. Not forced down by rejection of the idea; merely lacking the strength to escape its idealised confines.

It would not be the truth.

How could Serena argue that it would represent even a fraction of it, when her own heart insists on protesting every letter of it. She recalls glances over her shoulder-- at night, when streets are too still in broad daylight, when wisps of blood orange hair catch in the corner of a stare both so vacant and yet so on-edge at the same time. The checking of locks once, twice, and thrice within the span of a few minutes before attempting to sleep. The dropping of Serena's heart into the depths of her stomach at the sound of another hologram bursts from a Holo Caster, even though the young woman knows it is coming.

Even sillier still, only she remarks to herself, is the way the ground almost withers away beneath her at the mere mention of convictions, filth, potential, chosen and beauty. Words, sounds, that now somehow have found a way to manifest into weights crushing her neck from all sides from simply, and harmlessly, worming their way into the world. Unfitting for one the region deems a hero. After all, what sort of saviour of the world is rendered a panicked mess at something so trivial? How could Serena ever let it impact her on a level so cavernous, when what gouged it all out in the first place was infinitely worse?

She could never feel safe again. Not truly; not fully.

"No."