#-the grand scheme of things

[katyspersonal]

Speaking of "something intimate touched by dirty hands", I'll be real, I kinda do still need someone to "cleanse" image of Mic0lash for me. Ever since the grand fandom rift I've of course fallen onto the better side where fans are trying their best, I just can tell my Mic mutuals are trying their best with the guy. But something so incredibly bad is connected with the character- You guys know how negative experiences with people can ruin a character (and you're in luck if not the whole piece of media)? This character for me is a manifestation that if someone claims to really love and need me, I should keep in mind that it is a lie I should not trust.

I should know by now that when something sounds too good to be true - it IS, but he is like... an "avatar" of that realization. Someone I could just look at at be reminded without the words that yes, I should remember that I'll never be happy or valued like I want to. That my "ability" to see something good even in the darkest people or to listen to the intention of even the most distorted message is reserved for someone else. For something else. I am just not built for things like long friendships, celebrating holidays, exploring the world together, just being loved, just being able to trust, just being cared about, just sharing life with someone. My role in this world is to be a "tutorial enemy". Someone people would have a negative experience with but in exchange, understand who they are and what they really want in life, and let go of their struggles and wishes that tormented them. But I feel like I can only fulfill my purpose in this world for as long as I am ignorant about it. If I stop trusting people and seeking the type of love I need - I won't get attached, so I won't get hurt when people hurt me, so I won't be slain. Because this is what I am in - a videogame enemy that people need to defeat to level up and proceed to their own games. And if I stop respawning - how I can be what I am?

I just should not learn a thing, because people better off after they "murder" me. More cruel and reclused, but better off - more self-sufficient, more confident, more.. secure of how much good they deserve. It would just help them to be more cautious when someone actually toxic appears. Like, someone who is not even self-aware, not struggling and not remorseful. So they won't take chances, to the better.

But I just need to blind myself to the truth, because I've got nothing better to offer to this world than being that "tutorial enemy". People are better after slaying me. I drop Insight points upon being stabbed, and it happened so many times. I guess this character is just cursed with being associated with a truth so horrible that it is better off not realizing it and just be moved like a pawn.

[juney-blues]

when you're part of a group with structural power over another goup, you really do gotta just learn to say "i am not exempt from 'fuck 'em' when relevant" whenever someone expresses frustration with you or people like you.

[tesspieceface]

good afternoon friends. if you wanna know where ive been this time, well. this has been my mental state for the past month

[asiatic-apple]

you already know i love your sylus works (a big fan) and forgive me if you’ve done it but can i pretty please have smut prompt #17 with female reader for sylus ✨

I was so honored to write this for youuu, my #1 sylus fan!! I hope it's to your liking ❤️ Thank you so much for being here, and I hope the long wait for this was worth it

Proof of ownership

Sylus x female reader

Words: 1.1k

Prompt: seeing the love marks they left on their partner later and getting turned on all over again remembering how it got there in the first place

Content: use of “sweetie” and “kitten” as pet names, maybe too much dirty talking lol, very slightly implied exhibitionism, fingering, possessive sylus

Luke's low snicker is the first thing you hear when you enter the living room of Onychinus's base. You try to ignore it, only sparing him a confused look before returning to whatever you were planning to do before the distracting sound.

Ah, that's right—you came here to grab the hair tie you left on the coffee table yesterday. But your satisfied smile at finding it is quickly wiped away the second Kieran fails to stifle a giggle.

You freeze mid-motion, arms still halfway up after gathering your hair into a messy bun, and glance over your shoulder.

Sure enough, the twins are staring at you—clearly the object of their amusement.

“What?” you ask, already bristling at the way they nudge each other in between chuckles.

Luke shrugs, bringing a hand to the absurd-looking beak of his mask, as if he's hiding a grin. “Nothing,” he sputters, not so convincingly.

Kieran doesn’t even bother trying to lie. “Looks like someone had a fun night,” he drawls.

It takes you a second to register what he means. Then you remember how sore the skin along the junction of your neck and shoulders felt this morning. It was a bit too far in the back to see in a mirror, so you didn't know the extent of what Sylus left there last night.

But now you're putting two and two together.

Heat rushes to your face, your hands flying up to cover the back of your neck, even though it’s far too late for that. Luke and Kieran's snickering fades as you leave in a huff.

With each stomp you take toward Sylus’s bedroom, your embarrassment turns to annoyance before you barge in and shut the door a little harder than intended.

Sylus barely looks up from the book he's reading by the fireplace, but you swear there's a slight tug at his lips as soon as you growl his name. It's like he knew this would happen.

You cross your arms when you stop in front of him. “Would you care to explain why Luke and Kieran were laughing, quite literally behind my back?”

He leaves you in a few seconds of suspense before his deep scarlet eyes lock onto your pouting face. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, sweetie,” he replies, an infuriatingly smug lilt to his voice.

The sudden, gentle push of his Evol at your lower back teeters you off balance—just enough for you to fall forward. Right as you land in Sylus’s lap, he chucks his book to the small table beside him. Now his attention is fully on you.

“Sylus,” you warn, cheeks still warm from a heady combination of mortification and the fact that you’re pressed against him now. “Just how much of a mark did you leave on me last night?”

He hums, nuzzling into your neck with a chuckle. “What’s wrong?” He plants a heated kiss to your skin, presumably atop one of the hickeys he left there. “You don’t like the gift I left for you?”

You should push him away. Really, you should. But then his teeth scrape the spot right where the faintest sting still lingers, and your pussy clenches beneath rapidly dampening cotton.

“Even after I was so meticulous with my…art.” He tuts in faux disappointment. “I assume you still haven’t taken a proper look at it.”

You gasp as he brushes his fingers over the collection of bruises he left, his finger hooking in your shirt collar to tug it a bit further down your shoulder.

At some point between his distracting touches and kisses, his phone ends up in his hand. The ‘click’ of the camera’s shutter makes you groan softly in frustration. But then he turns the screen toward you, letting your eyes land on the picture of your marked up flesh.

The bruises form a rough, messy shape, but it’s deliberate in its composition: a small line, twisting like a snake to form a bold ‘S’.

You give him a pointed look of annoyance. But arousal stirs at the sight of his initial bitten into your skin. He doesn’t miss the flash of lust in your eyes. His canines peek out between curved lips—a wicked smile that only heightens the feeling swirling in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m quite proud of it,” Sylus murmurs before locking his phone and tossing it aside. “It took a lot of restraint not to…stray from the path. You were moaning so sweetly.” His lips return to your neck, tongue flicking out to glide along the marks. “But that just meant you liked it.”

You don’t respond, but the way your hips jerk against his lap betrays you. He chuckles knowingly, dragging his hands down to your waist.

Leaning closer, he whispers in your ear, “And I think you liked getting caught.”

His fingers slowly dip beneath the stretchy waistband of your lounge shorts and then your underwear. You gasp when the rough digits graze your aching clit. But he doesn’t stop the descent until his large hand is cupping your pussy and applying gentle pressure.

“You walked around all day like this,” he whispers, pressing a kiss just below the base of your neck. “With my initial on your skin and this pretty cunt aching for me.”

You barely get out a sound before he slides two fingers inside you, curling expertly until you’re gasping into his chest.

“Are you going to let me do it again, sweetie?” he asks with all the innocence of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. “Maybe lower, this time. Somewhere they’ll never see. But you’ll feel the sting every time you sit down.”

His thumb rubs against your clit with mind-numbing pressure. Just the right amount to make you moan a bit too loudly. You whimper, rocking against his hand to take his fingers deeper, faster.

He laughs that low, breathy, too-sexy laugh that makes you grit your teeth. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he whispers. “Hm, such a desperate little thing. Something tells me you’ve been wet all day, haven’t you?”

He circles your clit a bit faster now, and your whole body shudders. His thick fingers feel like heaven when they curl and press just right. And Sylus knows exactly how you like it.

Still, he’s holding back—deliberately denying you the right push to make you fall apart.

“You need to say it properly if you want me to give it to you,” he growls, lips brushing against your ear. “Come on. Say you want more evidence of my affection for you, kitten.”

“Yes,” you whine too quickly, “yes—fuck—I want more, please.”

His lips curl into a sly grin as they trail more tender kisses against your neck. He’s gentle for now, aware of how sore this part of your body might be. But you know he’s not making empty threats. After you gush around his fingers, he’ll surely take you to bed and spend more time marking you up elsewhere.

“When I’m done,” he promises softly, “you’ll be dripping with reminders of me.”

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divider by me :) please do not repost mdni banner by @/cafekitsune

[maxx-the-queer]

The Siege at Weisshaupt is honestly one of the best missions of any Dragon Age game, let alone Veilguard.

The stakes are already high: kill an Archdemon and then kill Ghilan'nain.

Killing an Archdemon - the big bad at the end of Origins whose very presence means apocalypse and certain sacrifice - is just the first step to killing an even greater force.

Ghilan'nain - an Ancient Elven Goddess blighted beyond recognition, whose unchecked ambition unleashed great horrors upon the world - is the real threat to face or else the Darkspawn Army will be the least of Thedas' worries.

The leader of the Grey Wardens, the only mortal force who have thus far been able to protect Thedas from utter annihilation, categorically refuses to face reality. Rook only has a ragtag team of half a dozen guys from all over to face an entire Darkspawn army with.

It's exactly as terrifying and daunting as it sounds, and neither task is something anyone treats with any amount of levity. Everyone is confident in their abilities to perform their task and get Lucanis to the right place to finish this contract, but there's no playfulness or divine certainty about their success.

Rook, whose only game plan is "get in and win by any means necessary," is then immediately confronted with the reality of their situation as absolutely everything goes wrong.

The Eluvian isn't where they thought it would be, the Grey Wardens are overwhelmed by Ghilan'nain's forces, and just to add to the sheer horror - there's a young child running through this battlefield of Darkspawn in search of her father and she will not listen to your pleas for her to get to safety.

All of that happens in the first ten minutes of the mission, mind you. This isn't even including the fact that Ghilan'nain appears as a damn spectral cloud face - which Lucanis rightfully points out is who he has to kill and "how am I supposed to kill a damn cloud?!"

Rook runs through the fortress, makes it to the East Battlements and hears the sounding of a horn begging for reinforcements, only to realise that they're the only ones coming and everything is falling apart, but they have no choice but to keep going.

Retreats are called, everywhere Rook goes is the wrong way, the forces are overwhelming beyond measure, and this battle is no longer about killing but surviving, because they're cornered like prey by horrors beyond comprehension.

When all of a sudden, the world's bravest little girl rushes in like a hero and guides them through impossible odds to somewhere with some semblance of safety. She's the only reason they haven't succumbed to death already and despite the waves upon waves of Hurlocks, Spikers, and Ogres - she finds her father.

Thanks to Mila, there's a moment of reprieve. Rook gets a chance to breathe. The Veilguard regroups, replans their approach. Distract Ghilan'nain with the dagger, trap her Archdemon in a dragon trap, and kill it to render her mortal. With time to breathe comes time to doubt, to fear.

A Warden has to die to kill the Archdemon. Davrin knows this, and is ready to go. But is Rook? What if they can't do this? What if this is how they die? Can they even spare the time to think about it?

Regardless, they fight through to the dragon trap. The Archdemon approaches as Rook all but dangles the dagger within reach. She takes the bait and sends her Archdemon forth, it seems all too easy - like putting cheese out for the mice.

The Archdemon is trapped. Davrin says his goodbyes, but the First Warden surges forward insistently. He plans to end this according to tradition. He'll die with dignity, he's not asking for your permission to do what all wardens must. He steps forward. Sword in hand, ready to end the Blight.

Ghilan'nain will not be so easily beat. She will not play by the rules they're used to, and the First Warden does not get to die a hero. She seizes him in her grasp, sucks the life out of him to empower Razikale, and changes the game once more. Her Archdemon is unlike any seen in history, and there's no time to revel in it because it's do or die and Rook cannot afford to die yet.

Every blow brings it closer to death, and therefore Ghilan'nain herself as she becomes more and more desperate. One snakelike head becomes two, becomes three, with blight everywhere - the time is at hand.

Davrin is the only one left who can kill the Archdemon, his death is inevitable, and he's ready to go as he sinks his sword in for the final blow.

Except, if there's one thing this seige should have taught them all, it was this: the rules have changed. Davrin is still standing, and he doesn't have time to think about why, because Ghilan'nain is mortal and the time to strike is now.

Rook tosses the Lyrium Dagger to Lucanis. He surges up, wings of Spite propelling him up to kill a goddess like she's any other target, because it's all that he came here to do.

And then, he misses.

With everything at stake, and everything to lose... Lucanis Dellamorte misses.

They don't have time to try again. If they stay, everyone dies. And so, the Veilguard flees through the Eluvian and back into the Lighthouse. It was a victory, but at what cost?

Nothing is how it's supposed to be. Weisshaupt is fallen. The Wardens are scattered. Razikale is dead, Ghilan'nain is mortal. And yet...

It wasn't enough.

[moominmammaonhero1n]

Jonathan Sims is like a shit wizard with googly eyes stuck to his head claiming he’s the prophet

[croquettish]

You know what really gets me about this moment? It's the fact that Hans starts out calling Mutt an IT before immediately realizing and switching: Mutt can look after himself.

Bearing in mind that the game even tells you that animals were viewed purely through the lens of utility (as a historian I do take umbrage with this all-or-nothing verbiage but I get what they're saying), this does tell us that Hans knows that Henry really cares about his dog and is making a concerted effort to treat him accordingly. Because he also really cares about Henry.

[theythemmer]

i used to see

[aachria]

TWO YEARS??? WE BEEN OUT HERE FOR TWO YEARS???

Yeah that's right folks, today marks the two year anniversary of the first chapter of Surely Some Star Binds Me To You. I got real emotional and profound last year, then when off the rails and edited the entire fic to fix the typos n shit like a lunatic, and suffice to say I will HAHA. Not be doing that this year.

I adore you guys, I adore Ed, and I adore writing this bitchass fic. Was it a little bit insane to do a full length OC insert for a series everyone is always losing their minds over being long as fuck for my first published fic? Yes. Would I go back and change a thing? Bitch be so fr.

I have learned a frankly concerning amount about myself throughout this writing process and I'm just so damn glad you guys have enjoyed it as much as you have. Now as we approach the finish line of part one, literally all I gotta say is thank you.

So ANYWAY. To celebrate this silly little milestone, I give you redone and prettified versions of all Ed's past bounty posters.

Oh yeah babe, someone learned basic and simple lighting techniques (that I am mediocre at but shhhhh). Ed getting progressively more bloodied and beaten throughout their pictures will never not be funny to me. Like bestie you so have a brand.

And of course, the old versions for comparison because ✨art school made me better at art✨ under the cut.

Yeah. Yeah I did get better that's good for me.

ANYWAY LOVE YOU GUYS TO DEATH BYEEEEEEE ♥♥♥

[starry-bi-sky]

*hits blunt* Joker has a long-standing one-sided beef with Nightingale in the Blood Blossom au because Nightingale clocked his shit almost immediately and began "sharks are smooth"ing at him. But because Nightingale only comes out in case of emergencies, Joker has to come up with increasingly convoluted schemes to trap the Batman in order to lure him out.

This has the opposite desired effect because this is the equivalent of using increasingly difficult locks to keep the raccoons out of your trash. All you're doing is teaching the raccoons how to pick locks. This also pisses off the other Rogues because Joker keeps making trapping the Batman exponentially harder all because he's beefing with his teenage son.

[starleska]

it is so funny to me that in the second episode of each of his seasons, the Fifteenth Doctor has been tied up by a member of the Pantheon of Discord in some fun 'rope' related to their powers...and this isn't the first time a villain has done this to the Doctor full stop!! RTD, your The End of Time is showing 😳

[rewormer]

quick doodle of two worms hanging out. gayly

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Me: This AU is a slowbu

(The absolute urge to make a canon short fic about how touch starved Caine is has an iron grip on me you all have NO idea.)

[cacospirit]

Morrigan, who is essentially also Mythal: I think what really defines Mythal as a spirit is… benevolence

Rook: Didn't she literally orchestrate a genocide

Morrigan: Yea like, once

[starlitfloret]

𐙚 buying a little who plays an instrument a baby version of it ! watching them smile and giggle about the new song they’ve made just for you , happily plucking strings and hitting keys (..◜ᴗ◝..)

maybe it’s a playdate with another tiny , and they make something together !!

my goodness baby , you’re such a good little composer !!!

[idontmindifuforgetme]

Kind of ridiculous that it’s a ubiquitously held notion that if you don’t start a hobby while you’re literally a developing embryo then you can never go pro at it. I have all this TIME to live am I supposed to just lie down and die