#I dreamed a dream of twinks gone by

[vivalamusaine]

The older I get the more I hate seeing Grantaire depicted as a twink

[boysmentfs]

My new boyfriend.

Tommy was Olivia's bff, he was always there for her above all things, they considered themselves almost "sisters" since tommy was not a guy like the others, he was a Twink, brown hair, youthful face, 20 years old, very thin, just like a noodle and clearly homosexual.

Olivia was the typical dumb blonde girl, tall, busty, the same age as tommy and popular but despite all this she always had things going wrong in love, she had recently met a fraternity guy named "Jake" But as expected, their relationship didn't last long and they had broken up a few hours ago, so she sent Tommy a message, so he could comfort her like he always does.

"Sis... I have ended my relationship with Jake, I am devastated... He was the most handsome guy in the world, I can't believe it"

"bestie, why do your relationships always take so little time? I mean, you've dated really hot guys... Hehe, I don't understand why they break up with you, you're beautiful, sis"

"I don't know, Tommy.... I would love to have a boyfriend who actually loves me for a long time, who protects me, listens to me and all that stuff, like you do."

"It's a shame I like guys, bff, because if I didn't, you know I'd be with you, but don't worry, you'll get a nice handsome guy with an attitude like mine!"

"I hope it doesn't take too long for that guy to come into my life, hey baddie, thanks for listening to me <3, now I have to go to sleep, sweet dreams! xoxo"

After that last message, olivia went straight to her computer and looked for something on the black market that could help her with her plan, and that's how he found a pair of red shorts, a chain and some earrings, In the description it said that with those things the guy who will use them would become the most handsome and loving guy in the world, so olivia did not hesitate twice and clicked to buy it.

The next day, the package arrived at her house, but I didn't want it to be so obvious, so I took the things out of the box where they were and handed them another one with a wrapper full of teddy bears and hearts, olivia knew that Tommy, seeing this, would not hesitate to open it, so once she closed the box, she sent it to Tommy's house.

A few minutes had passed since Olivia had sent the box to Tommy's house, When the package arrived someone knocked on the door and left, Tommy went directly to the door and opened it, curious to see the package he picked it up from the floor and began to open it, Tommy, seeing what was inside the box, was surprised. He never ordered clothes online, maybe they went to the wrong house, so he closed the box again, waiting for the real owner to claim it.

Once he left the box on the table, he went straight to the shower, when he finished his shower he grabbed his shirt but something was missing... And that was his special pink shorts, he remembered that he had lent them to his best friend so he thought of a solution, so he remembered that in the package they had sent him there were some red shorts so he went for them, once he used them, he would wash them so that the real owner would not suspect.

He grabbed the red shorts and put them on, It was a beautiful warm and sunny day so he decided to watch some TV, while watching TV he started to feel strange and a little hot, Something in his mind told him no try on what was in the box, the chain and the earrings, so he went for them and put them on, once je had them on he went to a mirror and saw himself, he laughed because he looked like one of her friend's boyfriends, but thin and without any muscle. After he saw herself in the mirror, he returned to the couch to continue watching TV.

And without realizing it, his foot began to enlarge as it became fleshier, his toes lengthened as veins sprouted and some hair grew on them, now he had feet of size 15, large masculine, all their delicacy was gone, now they looked like the feet of an jock.

His legs began to hurt, because they began to thicken and muscle began to come out, now his thighs were big while his calves were worthy of a real man, some hair began to grow on them.

The next thing to change was his butt and his bag, His big butt began to shrink to a decent size worthy of an jock, it was big but not as big as before although it was defined a little more, her pouch, which she was proud of since it was small and delicate, began to grow to a size 15 and also thickened while pubic hair came out, it seemed that she never shaved, but that made him look more masculine.

His designer thong also began to undergo changes, it went from being a red thong to becoming blue designer boxers so that his manhood would be highlighted even more along with his toned butt.

His stomach, which was thin, began to hurt as abdominal after abdominal came out in Tommy's stomach, a v began to be marked on the lateral sides while he gained a beautiful pack of 8 very worked abs, his chest began to expand outwards as two large defined pecs bulged out, a tattoo began to appear on a pectoral, his torso began to lengthen as he became more masculine, his back also underwent changes, it went from being feminine and thin, to being masculine and wide, muscle also appeared there, giving him a very manly back and worthy of admiration.

hiss shirt began to tear due to his large muscles, that was where Tommy reacted and was surprised and ran towards the mirror.

"Omg! What happened to me? I am dreaming? "This must be a dream, yes... I must wake up."

But before Tommy slapped himself, his arms began to hurt as they began to stretch and muscle began to come out, his biceps were now the size of a ball, his triceps were well worked, his delicate hands began to thicken while his fingers lengthened can and they started to look calloused due to all the exercise he did at the gym, wait... Exercise? Gym? He didn't exerc- but before Tommy reacted, two tattoos began to appear on his two muscular arms and another tattoo on one of his biceps.

Tommy couldn't anymore, he was about to cry, so he got the idea to call Olivia, but before he could do that, his face started to hurt.

Tommy's face, which was young, delicate and feminine, began to change as his jaw became marked, giving him a more manly appearance, His lips that were too full from being an expert cocksucker became thinner but still looked kissable, his nose became big and cuter, his eyes that were green began to turn brown, his beautiful blonde hair began to recede as it began to turn black, at the end, his hair ended up with a cut that any jock could have, his face had become the most beautiful, any girl who saw him would die to be with him, Tommy looked in the mirror again, looking at his new appearance, he became somewhat horny, without a doubt his new appearance was his ideal type, all the blood flowed into his bag giving him an obvious erection.

Tommy put his hand in his bag and started moving his hand up and down. He started to think about how many cute guys he could fuck... But as he thought about guys his erection faded, His mind began to give him new memories as a new alpha aura took over him. He began to imagine himself fucking girls with big butts and tits. His erection returned, but Tommy knew this wasn't right... He was... Homo... Homosexual?, NO, he was straight and loved raising beautiful girls with his bag, As he continued to raise and lower his hand he couldn't hold back anymore and he came and with that all his memories, personality and Tommy faded away.

"Seriously, Olivia is lucky to have me as a boyfriend, I mean, who wouldn't want someone like me?" Max said to himself as he flexed one of his arms in the mirror.

Tommy was now Max, Olivia's boyfriend, quarterback of the football team, leader of his fraternity, he loved parties, alcohol, exercising and having fun, max hated homosexuals, he said they could never be real men like him and his "bros."

After pulling up his pants he received a message from his girlfriend Olivia, Olivia knew that Tommy at this point had ceased to exist so she wanted to test out her new boyfriend.

"Hi love! I miss you... I would like to have you here with me, I want you to make me yours... come to my house <3"

"Well, today I'm free princess, to hell with today's training, I prefer to be with my beautiful girl, so you don't miss me so much while i arrived at your house, I'll send you a photo of me, princess ;)"

Olivia was happy with her new boyfriend, he was affectionate and listened to her all day, just like she wanted.

[voidzphere]

good morning utmv fandom have i ever told you how much i FUCKING HATE HOW YOU GUYZ TREAT KILLER SANS

this guy has the saddest fucking backstory and lore EVER and you downgrade him to a “hot bottom twink” . you disgust me

SURE he can be a silly little romantic guy BUT HIS ENTIRE PERSONALITY IS NOT BEING ROMANTIC. LOOK AT HIM

DO YOU SEE THE SHIT HE WENT THROUGH. he cant even accept help from otherz (in this case color, dream, swap, etc.) do you UNDERSTAND ME

SO MANY PEOPLE HAVE TRIED TO HELP HIM. AND HE'Z JUST GONE TOO FAR TO GO BACK. HE DOESN'T BELIEVE HE CAN BE A GOOD PERSON BUT WANTZ TO BE ONE

HE CANT EVEN CHOOSE WHAT HE WANTZ TO FEEL ?? PLEAZEEE

in summary yeah killer sans cool weird flirty skeleton dude but don't just ignore the fact he'z gone through as much as the other sansez has. he has so much potential im BEGGING

killer sans + all art provided belongz to rahafwabas

[rats-hyperfixation-corner]

re-remake with slayer (and reasons under cut)

TOPS

sol: the meta isn't the only thing he dominates

nago: very large

gio: do i need to say why?

i-no: scares me

Baiken: mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. m-

SWITCHES

ky: born to be a bottom but will be what ever his wife wants

millia: vibes

goldlewis: imma be honest he's here by default there's not much on him

jack-o: THE SILLY!!!

testament: again, do i need to elaborate?

Johnny: i feel like you can't be a true womanizer without being willing to go bot ways

slayer: lets his wife chose bc he's chill like that

BOTTOMS

axl: british

chipp: stupid

zato: he's used to getting fucked by god, so it comes naturally

ram: vibes

leo: came to me in a dream

anji: he's anji

bridget: much like her playerbase

asuka: god's most powerful twink

elphelt: scares me

HEALTH HAZARDS

may: strong enough to crush bone, and cartoony enough to pull fish out of places fish shouldn't be

pot: you are GONE

faust: will pull some loony toons shit

chaos: DON'T

bed: bed

A.B.A: scares me

CHILD

sin: unlike the valentines who seem to have the relative maturity of adults, sin thinks chocolate milk comes from brown cows

[sculptorofcrimson]

Yandere! Valdor

Valdor, the most loyal, the greatest of the Custodes, a Primarch in all but name. Who else can obsess more than him, whose every function besides loyalty was beaten out? A/N: Playing “fucked up obsessive twinks” on easy mode here, aren’t I? I’m sorry, SCP-XXXX who requested this, but you told me Valdor was a twink, and evil twinks are the best kind of men, so therefore this is your fault! Full throttle ahead, let us be damned together! ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Relationships: Valdor/Gn!Reader, mentioned Valdor/Emperor Mentions: @kit-williams would you like some food?

Valdor does not love. 

The Custodes simply can not love. Their love perished beneath treachery and fire, ten thousand years ago, and they simply cannot piece the remnants that was a heart back together again. 

The Emperor took away their ability to love any but Himself, and what else could be left but a hollow void, an immortality without substances, a heart that beats while it lacks its other half? 

There was simply nothing left of him to spare when the Emperor had brought down his claws. His love, his joy, his dreams, all gone, wiped away like sand upon the sea. Leaving behind nothing more than a hollow without sustenance, a phantom vestige of a dream crushed long ago, its corpse entombed within perfected flesh and bone and blood. 

He loves no one, not even himself. When the Emperor died ten thousand years ago, he lost his way. He lost his tether to life itself. And for ten thousand years he wandered for the corpse of his master. There was a poem once, a poem so long ago about the loyal dog that stood guard before his master’s bones, who licked the once-petting hand once, and laid down to die. 

Valdor’s loyalty is no weaker than that dog’s.

He loves no one, not even himself. But he loves the Emperor. He loves Him, so brokenly, so obsessively, so utterly insane in his adoration, the First Custodian would have let Him tear him apart if He wished. 

He loved the Emperor. 

And that is why he loves you. He thinks you to be his Emperor. If not Him, then at least a shard.

He doesn’t care who you were, he doesn’t care whether you were once a captain, a Chapter Master, a Thunder Warrior even. He thinks you to be his master, back from the dead, one of His shards caught in life and flesh. 

He thinks you’re Him. Or, if not Him, at least a fragment of His former glory.

Valdor calls you his Emperor, his shard, his beloved, he ignores any name you had once in favor of calling you his master. A name is only a word, after all, and you are nothing but his Emperor reborn, in his mind. A guardsman, an Astarte, a Thunder Warrior, you are all mortal beneath his eyes. He only smiles that cold, humorless smile of his when you attempt to correct him, when he brushes off your words with the same cold, humorless disinterest. 

Valdor thinks you to be his Emperor. And he doesn't care that you were once someone else, you were not always his beloved, you were not the master he imagined, that you are not the master he built from memories and bones. 

You were nothing before his master, he reasons, you will be nothing after his master, and you were his Emperor once upon a time. It is doubtful if he can even know love, if he had not projected his own delusions of his Emperor upon another. Valdor failed Him once and only now the fates have judged him fit enough to protect a shard of Him, one that is so frail compared to himself, so unspeakably mortal, his atonement for the master he failed so long ago. 

He failed the Emperor once, and watched Him die. He will not do so again.

Protection. You will never walk free again, never without his cold presence by your side, that effortless, confident stride as he accompanies his master. You will never know the taste of sunlight, the easy voice of another conversationalist before their words taper off into uncertainty, and then fear, beneath the jealous glare of your bodyguard. How their sentences trail off, how Valdor looms like some ancient, murderous harpy, his shadow constantly overcasting yours.

He knows nothing of love, of human emotion. But he knows protection. And he knows obsession. 

Valdor is not a passionate man. But he is neither a cruel one either. Of course, Valdor will never raise a spear nor blade against his adoration, to strike his master would certainly mean death, but he will slaughter your loved ones without even horror. He will whisper litanies of loyalty on his knees while his Custodes sink in the knives. He will speak ironclad promises and gilded oaths when they label your soldiers traitors and slaughter them upon the snowfields, when they hail for unity, and hear the blade fall. 

He seems to like walks in wintery fields. It reminds him of what he lost long ago, when the Emperor took him atop Ararat, and he enacted His first vengeance upon the Thunder Warriors. He sometimes brings you there, to altitudes higher than even what a Space Marine can withstand, and gathers you beneath his cloak, whispering memories that were never truly yours, asking for your orders, asking for your forgiveness, asking if you can remember what it felt like ten thousand years ago.

(Sometimes, you can nearly believe him when he says you’re a shard. It’s flattering, almost, to be under the eye of the captain-general.)

He can kill. There is nothing left of him if he could not. Nothing but the Emperor’s spear, a sharpened tool meant to kill and to serve, and to be cast away when its function is complete. You have nothing to fear from him, of course, he would rather end himself than raise a blade against his master. But he loves no other. He does not know how to love. And that makes him dangerous. You know it when you gaze into his eyes, you are sure you could imagine him covered in the blood of your loved ones, guardian spear flashing as he hacks through them without even the shadow of hesitation. He will take no fear, no regret, no relief, barely even satisfaction in the grim act, and yet that is somehow more profane than joy in slaughter. Not even a single hint of joy, wild and unfettered in the sheer cruelty, not even a single hint of an ambition for why he would lay such altars of blood before his master’s feet, only simply because He wanted it to be so, and simply because he loved Him. 

In his eyes, you are his Emperor. But he does not always obey you. He does not kneel as he would’ve knelt before his master. Because he knows, Valdor knows that to protect Him, to serve Him properly, sometimes he must smother Him for His own good. It’s the twisted rationale of a dog who has lost his master, whose death had rocked him so thoroughly he was willing to kill to save Him again. 

Valdor kneels, of course. He’ll kneel before you and speak his words of loyalty, he’ll give you his names one by one if you only ask. Valdor has never considered himself eloquent with words, but he’ll listen to you, he’ll even let you command him as the Emperor would have done. Rank be damned, he cares not if his Emperor had been reborn as a guardsman or an Astartes or even a Thunder Warrior. 

But he does not hide his obsession. To obsess is the only way he knows to love, after all. He’ll smother his beloved with his protection, with his adoration. He’ll hack his way to be their only protector, their only bulwark before the madness, the only man they can trust to defend them. Gaze upon his Emperor once, he’ll tear them apart. Love the Emperor more than him, and he’ll bury their bones beneath the snowfields. 

And be loved by the Emperor more than him….and he’ll betray them as he had betrayed the Thunder Warriors. He’ll sink in golden knives and golden spears in turned backs without even the hint of remorse, Valdor will remind his beloved that it is he who is the servant, it is he who serves to be praised for his duty. Valdor can take you from your family as the Emperor took him from his, he’ll so effortlessly ensure the utter protection of his new Emperor, all for himself. 

No one will protect you more than I, my liege. 

It is he who should be the favored servant.

No one can love you more than I, my Emperor.

He’ll croon those litanies of loyalty to you. He’ll whisper those promises of protection, of ambition, he’ll promise you an eternity while standing atop the frozen ashes of your loved ones. He’ll promise you a throne if you don’t cry, if you’ll love him as his master did. He’ll bring you a crown of gold, he’ll strangle the living storm for you, if only you promise to let him protect you, if you promise if you’ll be his Emperor. 

You died once. I will not let you do so again, my Emperor.

And his obsession would never be checked, and much less ended by the true power behind the Imperium.

You are his Emperor. In that mind He broke so thoroughly long ago, you are the Emperor, reborn. Heavy is the head that bears the laurel, bloodied is the hand that holds this mad dog’s leash.

It is Valdor who should be the favored servant. 

No one will protect you more than I, my liege. 

He will protect you. 

He will protect you, obsess over you, guard you with the hollow that is a heart. He’ll bring you a throne, a crown, an army, an eternity, if only you promise, if only you’ll be his Emperor. 

The Emperor died ten thousand years ago. And in turn, he casted you in His corpse.

[zarnzarn]

I GOT A DREAMLING BINGO CARD!!!!!! This one is E4: Uniform fetish. It is explicit.

@dreamlingbingo

//

"And who might you be searching for?" The waitress says politely, which is when Dream realizes his mistake. It's been at least twelve years since he last saw his lover, time travelling differently at the bottom of the deep sea. He'd come to London as fast as he could, only to be met with hostility and shouting from Hob's old friends for what must have looked like a second abandonment to them, and a complete lack of address as to where his lover had shifted to.

Dream had gone back to the library and tracked Hob down, trying not to snap at Lucienne, and then quickly transported himself to New York.

But his mistake. Was not slowing down enough to read what Hob was calling himself.

"A brunette man, around his thirties," He tries anyway. "Tall, favours brown clothing, warm eyes-"

"Whoa, slow down, loverboy," The waitress says, putting her hands up. "We don't have any men working here."

Dream's brow creases. "What?"

"Yeah, dude, I don't know what to tell you," She shrugs, looking around. "What's his name?"

"I was told he works here," He snaps. He has perhaps spent a tad too long amongst the creatures made to kill at the first movement down in the lonely abyss. "I'm sure of it."

"I-" The waitress sighs, rubbing at her forehead, then suddenly straightens up, eyes wide. "Hang on. Hang the fuck on- REBECCA! REBECCA, COME OUT HERE, THERE'S A GOTH TWINK WHO'S ASKING FOR YOU!"

There's a loud cry from the kitchens and then a flurry of noise- the door crashes open to reveal a host of staff members in various states of disarray, squealing and shouting and-

Rebecca Gadling.

Her eyes widen as soon as she lays her gaze on him, colored amber in the shock of sunset splayed across her face. She grins, and it's like a sun emerging in his chest, with frizzy long hair and tottering on her heels as people from the back shove at her.

Then suddenly, she stops moving towards him and leans back and Dream looks down to see that he has rather spectacularly dropped the large vase of flowers he'd brought Hob between them. Also the chocolates. And the shells. And the now-redundant shopping bags and the limestone sculptures and the silk handkerchiefs.

Hob breaks the stunned silence with a gentle, wet laugh, and Dream looks back up to her, feeling greatly like his entire body is misfunctioning.

"You shifted," He says hoarsely. Because she has- changed shape in a way belying a talented magician- one that's not her lover, the Shaper of Forms, who she surely must have known would have helped her with such a transformation in an instant if she'd so much as hinted to him about it- but Dream's aware enough to know he's on thin ice as is.

"Yeah, I, uh," Hob chuckles, tucking a hair behind her ear shyly, coyness dancing in her eyes as she sidesteps the broken glass and other obstacles to reach him. "You like?"

"Like?" Dream repeats faintly, too busy being overwhelmed as she comes closer. There's a skirt. A short skirt, pleated and the same pink latex as her half-top. Her half-top that is barely holding in her-

The white lace bra that she'd made Dream make for her before he left peeks out the straining bust and he makes a noise.

"Darling," Hob says, sounding like she's barely holding back a laugh as she puts one warm palm on his cheek. The women behind them are tittering and cackling. "My eyes are up here."

"I would be privileged to even have only the back of your knees to stare at until the end of the universe," Dream says, not moving with the gentle pressure so he can keep looking at the breasts enclosed in pink and white. "Let alone the vastness of your eyes, warm and beautiful as fertile earth. But I would like very much to stare at your voluptuous breasts as long as unsocially acceptable, unless you deign to reveal to me more-"

"Right," Hob says, strangled. She turns to look over her shoulder. "I'm not coming back after today. Also get out, all of you, I'm fucking him on the tables."

Hob- Rebecca, was it?- turns back to him as the rest of their audience disappears in a loud burst of noise that he pays no attention to. Hob's hair is long and open, held back on both sides by white ornaments- not good enough, he should get her more- and stretches down to her backside, swaying enticingly.

It looks unbearably tempting against the pink.

"Do you still like having your hair pulled?" He murmurs into her neck, fingers already tangled and tugging as he presses her down into the table. Rebecca gasps, shuddering at the viper-quick movement, legs spreading.

"Hi, Dream. How was the deep sea?" She says hoarsely, laughter in her voice, and he growls.

"Unimportant." He declares, turning his head so he can sink his teeth into her throat. He plays with the ends of the skirt, stroking her thighs. It looks indescribably good on her. "Keep this uniform, after you quit."

Hob laughs again and Dream darts in to kiss her in greeting, before getting distracted once more by the feel of her chest pressing to his. Greedily, he reaches up for a handful, and Rebecca releases a beautiful, quiet whimper into his mouth that might drive Dream slightly insane.

"Pink is my color, isn't it?" Hob preens when she can speak ten minutes later, Dream's shadows spreading her saliva across her chin as they retreat, unable to go for stopping Hob's endless chatter during sex like he usually does, after so long in empty, dark silence.

"It is," Dream breathes, still fucking her like a dog. The lights flicker lovingly above them, summer rainstorm blazing outside as the two of them embrace on a sticky table in an empty cafe. The last stretches of twilight grasp at Hob desperately, bathing her in pinks and oranges, a vision. The skirt is flipped up and the half-top is missing buttons and hanging open limply, giving him full access to the lace torn by his teeth and breathtaking curves of her heavy breasts.

He moans as he looks down at the full picture, so different from the last twelve years of blue and white and black. He thinks rather fondly of the anglerfish dreams he's seen over the past few years, and their mating habits, and thinks he would like nothing more than being permanently attached to Hob until the heat death of the universe.

Hob giggles. "Is this because you missed me or because you like me as a woman?"

"You shifted," Dream whines. Hob cackles at him and he pinches her nipples in admonishment. "If you had shifted into a worm, I would have done so too and still had you like this."

"You are so odd," Hob says, delighted, and nearly takes his feet out from under him with how hard she pulls him down to her lips. "And say the oddest, sweetest things. I love you."

"I love you also." Dream says, palms unmoving on the latex and fingers on Rebecca's warm skin, a very pleasant combination. "Please keep the uniform."

Hob laughs again, and Dream allows himself a wide smile as he pushes himself back up. Even destroyed, it looks fetching on her.

But he's not done with her quite yet.

(They both know he never will be.)

"You know I've had more women than men," Dream says, watching with glee as Hob's smile drops in favour of a flustered blush and a healthy dose of fear as he grins down at her. "Let me show you what I've learned, hm?"

She grins back, fire of a challenge in her eyes as she pushes her chest up. Her skirt brushes against their skin as it falls, Dream hitching Hob's leg higher as he presses closer. "Bring it on."

[wishmaster]

Past Regrets

I made mistakes in my past, breaking hearts of cute guys because I was too afraid to admit I was gay, regretting every single one of them right now. Breaking hearts of girls for the same reason, ruining up the chance of being best friends. Ghosting great dominant boys afraid to admit my submissive side.

It might be a weird request, but I wish every single one of them could take it’s revenge on me with a wish so in the end history would be rewritten so all of them would be happy, and I wouldn’t have any regrets anymore.

Well aren't you a stud of a man, too bad after your past has it's revenge who knows what we'll have to work with. Timothy, a young man you led on in school as a prank gets his first wish.

I wish you'd be young again and have to relive your new life.

Well weren't you sexy as a youngster. As our next contestant Sam came with his next wish, Sam says you had a type you liked to break hearts with. I wish he was a slutty little twink boy.

Suddenly your ass expanded, your muscles depleted but didn't go away completely and there started to be an itch in your new ass, one you weren't sure how to scratch.

One of your girlfriend, jessie was next. You could never get it up when I wanted you too, but whenever by brother passed by your dick would spring to life, I wish you'd no longer have control of that pathetic dick of yours.

Suddenly you were in a chastity cage. Unable to even touch your dick. Which scared you. Next came Marcus the first guy you ever had feelings for but because he was a total top you were scared off by him. I wish you'd become my dream bitch boy and serve me and only me.

Next thing you knew you were on your knees in front of a very leather clad Marcus. Or master as he preferred you call him. From this day forward you were his you did whatever he said, you were now his perfect bitch boy. Your body altered to fit his tastes but you'd never leave his side, you got to have your submissive on full display.

As you were led out of the room all of your past regrets watched as they knew you were truly where you belonged. the person you were before was gone, never existed, you were merly Boy from this point forward, a submissive sex slave owned by the new Master Marcus who took your wealth an home an transformed it into the perfect sex dungeon, he was going to have fun charging his friends to use you. Welcome to your new you.

[infinitegest]

Someone desecrates the shrine to a fertility god, and is cursed to grow and grow, in every sense of the word~

some dumb twink of an academic gets it into his head that he's the next indiana jones and fucks up while inspecting a previously-undiscovered Gaulish monument. he takes a piece of it and it is immediately stolen, probably by a rival archaeologist or some relic poacher working for a wealthy collector.

that night, he dreams of the Horned God coming to him (and in him). he wakes up, flushed, the last gasp of a rapturous moan fading from his lips, and reassures himself that it was just a dream.

a month later, he's starting to notice his chest feeling tender and his trousers fitting a bit tightly. and then he dreams again of the Horned God, but in this dream, as the great antlered figure pounds deep into him, it puts a hand over his stomach, and he can feel a distinct warmth as the skin there begins to stretch...

when he wakes up, there is a distinct curve to his tummy.

over the next month, he frantically searches for answers, goes to a doctor, insists that it's impossible that he's pregnant (and with TRIPLETS, no less), studies the monument and the lore as intensely as he can. all the while, his hips are widening, his chest and belly slowly pushing out more against his button-down shirts. and then, like clockwork, the dream comes again. the Horned God leans over him (deep, shuddering, animalistic breaths, hot with the air of a forest in late summer), and says, "You took what was mine. So I will give you more."

the next morning, his wardrobe can no longer hide what's happening to him. and, at his next appointment, the ultrasound reveals a fifth and six dot growing inside him.

that's when it clicks. each month, when he'd usually be ovulating, he has the dream. the god is going to keep knocking him up each month, loading him with more and more babies, until he can find and return that shard of the monument.

two problems. the most obvious one is that he hasn't the faintest clue where the shard has gone.

the second problem is simply that getting up to indiana jones-style hijinks and daredevil stunts to find an artifact in a globetrotting adventure is gonna be very difficult considering how eagerly his gravid body is taking to swelling up with a steadily-increasing load of babies.

[deafeningfanlight]

TSAMS Headcanons [But ME being uncreative tho :D]

PLEASE LEMME JUST IGNORE THE LORE RIGHT NOW AND INSTEAD HAVE SOME ✨POSITIVITY ✨ SPREAD HERE :'D

Alright, let's get this sh*t rolling >:D

Moondrop uses he/they/it pronouns and identifies as boyflux, sometimes feeling strongly male and at other times less so, occasionally identifying with the agender spectrum as well. [I'M F*CKING BAD AT EXPLAINING BRO BUT I'VE AN EXCUSE: I'm not your teacher, YOUR TEACHER IS GOOGLE NOW SO LOOK IT THE F*CK UP PLS 😭]

Earth believes Santa Claus is real, and if anyone would tell her the truth and shatter her dreams, her whole fam would straight up find out the person's IP adress and idk, sent Monty like a military to the location.

While Ruin was the adorable silly shark we all loved [BEFORE THIS PLOT TWIST HAPPENED-] he forced Solar to particapate in his stage plays. Solar would be the princess, and Ruin would be the prince who would save him :D They got the dresses from Earth, who complimented Solar RESTLESSLY how gorgeous he looked in them :D Lunar would just say:" Stylish twink >:D"

Lunar regresses his age during intense situations and when he's reminded by his trauma. Earth often takes then the caretaker role. [I've not many headcanons for Lunar 😭]

The Bloodmoon Twins love nature and are befriended with some animals in a forest. For example, they play with wolf puppies and go with them on hunts :D AND I HEADCANON THEM AS ASEXUAL AND POLYROMANTIC BECAUSE MY HEADCANONS, MY RULES-

The whole celestial family and their villains are asexual because I think it would be cool if all of them share a single trait and have a common ground :D It would be also logical cuz like, when all kinda have the same code or stemmed from other codes, then it would make sense that they share some traits? 🤔

Moon has a passion for anything related to horror, including true-crime stories and creepypastas that he only reads because he can laugh at them. He would be that type of guy who leaves troll comments on some random creepypasta fanfics XD

Eclipse actually really likes fashion and to simply look stylish! :D He even has a passion for it and spends hours choosing his attire, struggling to decide which one to take. Most of the time, he chooses a a black vest with a white shirt underneath, the sleeves of which are fitted tightly and extend to his elbows. He prefers to go with an old-fashioned and gentlemanly style. However, he doesn't necessarily reject more feminine styles and ocassionally likes to put eyeshadows or an eyeliner on as well. Earth and Eclipse share therefore a common ground because both really like fashion :D

Okay, there SOME POSITIVITY SPREAD! :D Maybe I'll post some angsty headcanons later on, BUT Y'KNOW, MY MOTIVATION IS FASTER GONE THAN A DAMN BUGATTI SO PFF- XD

[aroacesigma]

As much as I love sigzai personally if I was sigma I would've beaten the shit out of dazai. Imagine you're on your last fucking straw. Sanity gone no hopes no dreams no future t minus 5 seconds away from a panic attack and this absolute twink comes along and starts waltzing with you . I'm honest to god shocked sigma didn't try strangle him

[merriclo]

tumblr in the bsd-universe simulation

🐈 mii-chan-pics Follow

mii-chan photo part 409 <3

🐱 pussycatenthusiast Follow

yo i’m pretty sure k saw this exact cat outside my favorite bar!! what a cutie

🐈 mii-chan-pics Follow

yeah haha that makes sense! he likes to wander. he’s very friendly too, so if you’d like to pet him he’ll totally let you!!! <3

🕯️ cuntyterror Follow

what the fuck is wrong with you!!?? letting your cat wander around a big ass city full of cars and illnesses is animal abuse. can’t believe you’re even encouraging strangers with dubious intentions to approach and touch them too. you should keep your cat indoors and know where they are at all times, or else they’ll get fucking run over or starve to death or a myriad of other things. you’re a demented human being, and an awful cat owner. i hope someone in your life has the sense to save mii-chan from your abusive hands.

🌸 the-cutie-n-tani Follow

hi yeah i’m op’s irl bestie and i’d love to see you try and keep that cat inside an apartment. the motherfucker has opened childproofed, locked windows before. he’s been gone for days and then come back noticeably fatter. he is an unstoppable beast of a little guy. fuck off and leave her alone

( 147 notes )

☠️ mybones-aredry Follow

just shared a cig with the hottest ginge i’ve ever seen in my entire life yall i can’t get him out of my head

( 7 notes )

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 ilovewomenmorethanyou Follow

yall are never gonna believe me but i swear i just saw that blond american terrorist guy in the clearance isle of the supermarket what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck i swear he died in the harbor

⚽️ going-loco Follow

y’all will see any tall, blond white guy and assume it’s the same guy 🙄 quit accusing some random dude of being a terrorist

🪷 little-women Follow

did you see him at around 3 pm? and if so, was he wearing a brown suit with a white tie?

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 ilovewomenmorethanyou Follow

…….yes

🪷 little-women Follow

yup that was Francis!! if you compliment his suit he might give you ≈$500

🪷 little-women Follow

oh i’m so sorry i forgot to translate it into yen i’m so sorry. he might give you ≈¥73,000

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 ilovewomenmorethanyou Follow

oh hell yeah thank you!!!! <3

⚽️ going-loco Follow

FRANCIS SCOTT FITZGERALD IS ALIVE !!???

( 89,765 notes )

🍶 cup-of-sake Follow

ngl the ADA’s director is kinda…

😴 dream-on-slut Follow

the ADA just won an award for saving Yokohama from a terrorist attack and you’re focusing on how hot Director Fukuzawa is??

🍶 cup-of-sake Follow

yeah lol

( 12,567 notes )

😈 dateafreakyfreakster Follow

some freak just got caught in my dad’s fishing net and he’s hella unserious and wrapped in bandages and i fear i want him bad…

🧥 no-longer-human Follow

hey

😈 dateafreakyfreakster Follow

no fucking way

( 9,581 notes )

👑 king-of-twinks Follow

living in Yokohama is a fucking fever dream. shit just happens here and all you can do is fucking deal with

👑 king-of-twinks Follow

i work at Sephora and i’m pretty sure that goth freak from the Port Mafia just asked me which eyeliner brand was better

👑 king-of-twinks Follow

stop calling me a liar i know that murderous goth freak when i see him

( 315 notes )

🧸 abyssal-red-gables Follow

got a job at the café under his place of employment and he hasn’t even said hello to me yet. can’t have shit in Yokohama

( 3 notes )

[bucknastysbabe]

it's still me, sorry.

ancient rome with viserys III (he just has that twink senator build, I am telling ya)

YES TWINKY SELF IMPORTANT VIZZY III YOUR BRAIN MAKES MY GO SPLOOSH, also I took a while bc 1. Work 2. I get wayyyy too invested into research! So I hope you enjoy xoxoxoxxo

AU Bingo - Ancient Rome - Viserys III

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Imperial Rome setting, Viserys is an angry lil asshole, too much background building, aphrodisiacs, arranged marriage, pnv!sex, enemies to lovers, hate sex, they’re both bottoms they’ll figure it out later, background Jorah and Illyrio, dany living her best life!, orgy time, I hope that was a good offering to Cupid

A/N: Tumblr is full of smart people but I still marked stuff that might need a translation or explanation:)

Viserys Targaryen. The third. Bred well from a long line of Emperors. The dynasty had ended when his mad father was struck down by the Praetorian* guard meant to protect the man. He was a mere senator now, the Baratheon family forcing him into submission. Damnatio Memoriae* for Aerys and his eldest son Rhaegar.

Everyone knew you could flip a coin to decide if a Targaryen would be mad or not. Viserys, although smart and a respected senator, definitely leant towards the unwanted side of the sestertius*. Regardless, the man had enough allies to secure his position in aedileship* and keep the family estate. His little sister had been married off to some obscenely rich warlord king outside of Roman lines, further padding the man’s pockets.

He walked around like an inflated peacock with his purple striped toga, dreaming of revenge and retaking the grand palace. Not married, still young, and quite mean from all accounts. Rumors flew that he was the passive cinaedus* of his longtime Gaulish slave. But you had your eyes on the fool regardless of who said what.

Recently arrived from the ever growing Hispania Baetica*, your father, a powerful proconsul* had sent you with a retainer to find a husband. Your aunt was married to Rhaegar Targaryen, and there was a promise for your hand to Viserys.

There was a catch. Viserys was not made aware of this pact. All of the details ands plans were burnt up during the violent overthrow of mad Aerys. Greek fire everywhere from the accounts. Your sister and her babes had perished from the Lion of Rome’s horrid beast of a soldier.

Elia was gone now, you reminded yourself. Oberyn kept her memory alive much too much but you grinned and bared it. He accompanied you with his lover and only two of his many bastards. Viserys was to be hosting you all in his grand manse upon the Esquiline Hill*. He knew the power of your family and sought to gain more status.

A plethora of slaves tended to your baggage and personal goods. A fat man with a thick accent, Thracian* of sorts, welcomed you all with an ecstatic smile. “Good evening, I know you all must be weary from your travels, our busy Senator will be home late tonight and plans to sup in the morning. Please call me Illyrio, I am the steward here.”

He outstretched a jiggly arm and beckoned you all, “Come, come, dinner awaits.” Oberyn sniffed and sauntered in, viper eyes darting around suspiciously. He had become quite bitter and distrustful after dear Elia’s death. Rhaegar, a wonderful general, had found some Briton barbarian’s daughter while putting down an uprising and squirreled her away. Much to the anger of the Novantae*.

Robert Baratheon also took offense to the affair, having eyes for the same girl. Add on Aery’s madness and rising tensions against the imperial family. Well. That’s what led to now. It’s bad when the Roman army has to enter Rome. Slimy Lion of Lannister, Tywin, a once trusted Consul* and general settled the fighting quite quick. His son, a Praetorian guard, struck down the Mad Emperor.

You shook yourself out of your thoughts, weary from all the travel. Dinner and chatting was a blur, Oberyn interrogating Illyrio up quite intensely about Viserys. You retired early to a sumptuous room, dreaming of frolicking in the paintings until slumber met you at last.

In the morning you had two girls attend your bathing, dressing, and other attending. You felt quite beautiful in your immaculate yellow stola, embroidered with gold. Your headband and jewelry was also gold and citrine. They smudged your eyes with kohl, painted your lips a darker color with berries. All to hopefully ensnare.

Padding to the triclinium* you readied yourself. Being a proconsul’s daughter, you knew how to behave. Hispania Baetica was extremely romanized, it wasn’t like you came from Judaea* or Asia Minor*. Your family was mostly seated, Oberyn and Ellaria looked tired. They may have treated themselves to the pleasure of Rome last night.

Illyrio beside a big man in armor and the distinct silver haired of a Targaryen graced your vision. Viserys was quite handsome, lengthy waves, strong features, and long limbs. No warrior like Rhaegar but self assured in his own right. You gave obeisance and sat down. Viserys intense lilac eyes bored into you, pretty lips curling up in pleasure.

He hummed, “Martells. You have been good to the Targaryens for many a moon. I hope the trip was fair, nice to see you Oberyn. I hope Doran is doing well.” The senator’s smile was stiff lipped and frigid.

Oberyn snorted, “The place smells of pig shit and is overcrowded. But a fine city I suppose. The streets of pleasure are wondrous. How is the usurper doing?”

An awkward hush enveloped the room. Viserys’ eye seemed to twitch. His pallid cheeks reddened, “The fat oaf is fine. The Lion does his dealings after the Arryn man passed.” Oberyn hissed, “Detestable fucker.”

You cleared your throat and gestured to Illyrio, softly stating, “I’d love to reminisce on the injustice of our past but we did not travel to Roma for nothing, Senator.” Viserys seemed a relax a smidgeon, eyes narrowing at Illyrio’s wide frame. He drawled, “Was there something not to my knowledge? As the leader of my family this could be treason.”

The big man placed a hand on his sword.

Illyrio laughed it off and boomed, “No, this is all good tidings. A proposal lost in the fire.”

“Go ahead, Mopatis.”

You nervously popped some grapes into your mouth, eyeing the silver haired man’s heady gaze. He was entranced— for what gain you did not know. Illyrio opened the scroll and read of the marriage pact hastily made after the downfall. You would marry and join Viserys’ household.

The Senator remained quiet, the guard muttering something along the lines of, “That’s a first.” Viserys finally hummed, “What will I receive if I am to marry your girl? Gold, allies, men? I will become Emperor again dear Martells. You burn with the same injustices!” A vein on his forehead twitched.

Oberyn bristled, “You will receive a handsome sum and my gorgeous niece. Have patience, little Targaryen, lest the people might think you’re madder than your father,” he sharply grinned, “Excuse me, the emperor before Robert. Damnatio memoriae is a bitch, hm?”

Viserys barked, “Quiet your tongue, red viper! I accept the girl, shall pay the dowry, but I need allegiance. My sister awaits with her warlord husband, powerful screamers on horseback.”

Oberyn settled back down with a shit-eating grin, placing his sandals on the table, throwing an arm around Ellaria. You nodded and added, “All good things come with time, Aedile Targaryen. We shall plan, and I will do anything in my power to asssist.”

He was quaking with anger, long and thin fingers almost shredding the purple edging of his toga. Illyrio hummed, “Very well, we shall have the wedding, small, and pay the dowry. Then you may return to Hispania.”

Oberyn stated, “My daughter Obara stays as her personal guard, then we shall leave in the morn.” Viserys glared at the strong woman, lips thinning in annoyance. You glanced down at your hands, quite unsure what to do with an unstable temperament.

You’d find a way, always had. Nothing cunt couldn’t fix. Unless the Senator didn’t prefer that. But that could be arranged too.

After the wedding, you felt alone and bored. Viserys had held intercourse with you once, a banal affair. Strange for a Roman, a Targaryen one at that. Obara and Jorah as you learned, were mainly your company out and about. Viserys spent most of his time on the Capitoline Hill*. Planning events and city works, whatever Aedile’s did.

One day you’d had enough. You decided to snoop around Visery’s personal quarters, he’d be in hearings all day. Illyrio turned a blind eye with a small smile. Coming to a bronzed desk you found a half-unrolled paper. Wonderfully decorated with Pan and his nymphs.

Fingering the scroll open your eyebrows raised. It was an invitation. Tomorrow night. To a secret party with masks only. It was likely to be an orgy once you placed the masks, Pan’s* turgid cock, and the syrupy invitation. Your fool husband wasn’t going to even let you know.

“Illyrio!,” you hollered.

Heavy footsteps and breathing came closer and closer. Mopatis wiped the sweat from his brow. He panted, “My lady?” Padding over to the large man you shoved the invitation toward pudgy hands.

“Was my dear husband planning on inviting me?”

He stared at you with a strange expression, mouth twitching. You held his gaze before he broke. “No. He was to go alone. Felt stifled recently.”

You snarled, snatching the invitation back, Mopatis now leaning on a doorway. You murmured, “Say Illyrio, dear steward, could you perhaps get me into this sordid soirée?” His fleshy face erupted into a smile.

“I have friends in the lowest and highest of places, I’m sure we could arrange your arrival. A surprise for your husband. I’ll have to send one of the girls to the mask maker.” Patting a shoulder you mused, “Hmm, I cannot wait to see the look on the asshole’s face.”

Jorah snorted from afar.

You gained entrance into a vast complex of gardens and smokey rooms, smelling of herbs. Petals littered the ground at every turn. You fixed your mask and stola, quite lost. You’d heard of these debauchery laden gatherings high up in the echelons of Rome.

It wasn’t like that in your household, definitely in Oberyn’s with all the boys and women he could fuck until dawn. A man with a deep voice sidled next to you, offering a goblet of wine, “Here sweet one, this brew will make Cupid himself bless you.” You took it and asked, “Where is the main gathering?”

“Follow me nymphet,” he hummed.

You downed the wine, unsure if that was a horrid idea or not. But Jorah was waiting on the outskirts in case you may need help. Citizens of Roma were fucking and kissing all over as you drew near the sounds of wailing and drums. The mysterious man hummed, “This is where the show is, where you find your lovers for the night.”

He disappeared as fast as he had met you. Eyes scanning through the fog you spotted silvery hair. Viserys was sprawled with some ladies, idly watching the erotic show on the dais. Sucking in a breath you sat on some cushions directly across from him.

Heat began to slither up your belly, the haze and glistening skin of the erotic dancers making your cunt ache. Pulling at your stola you stifled a whine, chewing on your lip under the mask. It must have been that brew that man gave you, some sort of Aphrodisiac. Venus herself must have dipped her tits in the brew, you were on fire.

Transfixed in the low hum of the droning singers, the sensual beating of the drums and the escalating cries of pleasure— you were not prepared for a rather smug voice in your ear. Yelping and sliding away, long fingers wrapped around your upper arm, jerking you close. Viserys lilac eyes were a bit hazy as he murmured, “You aren’t secretive you know that? Thinking I don’t know that you’re going through my belongings, sending my steward around.”

As his thin face began to erupt into a sinister smile you grew a bit fearful. Maybe you’d crossed the line. Targaryen’s were notoriously unpredictable. You gulped out a weak, “I apologize, maritus*, I do, please!” Viserys only smiled more and pulled you flush atop his thin hips.

“I’d prefer dominus*, my sly little Baetican,” he drawled, dragging fingertips across your overheated skin. Nosing along your slick neck he continued, “Almost as slithering as that viper of your uncle,” his soft curls tickling you issued a full body shudder and whimper.

“Dominus, I simply wished to- ah- find out what pleases you! You show me no attention,” you wheedled, overwhelmed with groping hands and wandering lips. Viserys cruelly mocked, “Dear, you were a pact, a bag of sesterces, a pretty little something that makes me look good when I get my birthright back.”

Anger seized through your veins at his callous words, shoving him off with a hiss. Viserys smug look turned to shock as he called, “I wasn’t done yet! Come back here!” You shook your head and stumbled through the clouds of burning incense, past the degenerates contorted and fucking, howling to Lūna.*

Slinking through to doors, not to make any noise, you arrived on a much quieter plaza of sorts. A fountain, some beautiful columns, and a small worship temple. Probably Venus. You ran toward the temple, seeking to hide from your vile husband.

Inside everything was painted a rosy, gorgeous color. A statue of Cupid* surrounded by candles and offerings sat at the head. You decided to sit against the wall, staring at the little cherub from the side. You filtered through your robes to throw a coin at the shrine. No one had shrines to the son of Venus*. That you knew until now.

“Strike him, will you,” you asked out loud.

Viserys. What a wretched ass. You knew this was a pact. He showed desire but nothing else. Doomed to a loveless marriage with a power-hungry maniac. You wanted to make him cry, make him hurt like you were. Throwing your mask off your hands clenched into balls of fury. Then took a deep breath, holding the tears back.

“I said I wasn’t done, now you ran off to weep?,” Viserys snapped as he entered the shrine. You stared at him coldly and replied, “No, I didn’t want to hear your vile words. I’m sure you had some great insults coming up, dominus.”

The blonde scoffed and leaned against a pink column, crossing his sinewy arms. He drawled, “Whatever, I was going to say, that you have proven yourself to be strong and dedicated. I like that. Ask me next time and I’ll take you along to my affairs.”

You crawled forward on all fours, holding his piercing gaze until you sat back in front of cherubic Cupid. Gesturing to the god you said, “I’m glad then, I have your approval dominus. Now fuck me. Prove it. Prove your power over me.”

Viserys sputtered for a second, pale cheeks blotchy. His cock was hard enough you could see it through the layers of his toga. You needed this, didn’t care if it was the Minotaur of days of old fucking you open. Anger and lust coursed in your veins, the drink wracking your system.

He mumbled under his breath and padded over to shut the doors to the shrine. Just leaving you two and marble Cupid. He knelt down in front of you, looking composed but sweat beaded along the high points of his face. You leaned back, revealing your legs and bare cunt, pulling and undoing your stola*.

Viserys sat like a dolt. Obviously he did not have the upper hand in this situation, Face getting redder and redder. You purred, “Dominus, or should I say, Caesar?” The blonde moaned softly, trembling hands undoing his expensive garments marking the man’s station. You were naked and waiting, smirking to yourself. Viserys, now just as bare didn’t move.

“How do you want me Caesar?,” you hummed with a cock of your head. Visery’s swollen prick could rival Priapus* currently, leaking and red. He rasped thinly, lips agape, “Ride me, ride me, hispanus.” Stifling a laugh at the suddenly submissive acting senator you prowled forward like a tigress, placing your jeweled hand on his pale chest, pushing the man back.

Straddling yourself across lean thighs you rolled your slick pussy across his length, moaning lowly in satisfaction. Big hands clamped down on your thighs, a strangled noise leaving Viserys’ throat. Suspiciously close to a whine.

You leaned forward to press your tits against his flat chest, breathing against his pink lips, “Caesar, why are you bowing to such a simple whore him? One from Hispania, probably not even a citizen. Tsk tsk” Viserys thrashed some, face pouty. His free hand clamped down on your neck as the blonde hissed, “This is no time to jest, your Caesar wants you to ride his cock. Get to it.”

He wouldn’t let go until you heaved for a breath, sliding onto his long cock, the protrusion deep and nestled on your sensitive upper walls. He let go, hands now groping your breasts, that irritating look back on his face. You coughed wetly, sucking in breath as you clumsily began the first few thrusts, but it felt wonderfully divine.

Your pussy, lips, and nipples were hypersensitive and swollen, sending sparks of ecstasy shooting off over your body. You rode harder, seeking more and more. Viserys gasped, “Gods, fuck, you’re different tonight.” Slapping him across the cheek while simultaneously squeezing his turgid length made the made shout, eyes fluttering.

“I may be your, hng ohhh, wife, b-but I can be your equal! Fah-fucking lackwit! Jaehaerys and Alysanne ring a godsdamned bell?” Your cunt grew slicker and slicker with your arousal, sweat rolling down your back, between your bouncing tits. The small shrine was growing warmer, the sounds of fucking echoing in the small temple.

Viserys mewled hungrily around your chest as you reached back to grab his overfull balls, squeezing ever-so gently. His eyes flashed open, mouth opening and body arching as he cried your name passionately. He managed to string together a broken sentence, “I- Ifffff- you beast, keep it up, ah Cupid you little shit! I will rethink my behavior!”

You plastered yourself to the man, luridly slapping your plush hips against him, moaning uncontrollably. Viserys was right along with you in pitch, desperately jerking his wonderful cock into your needy cunt. Sloppy sharing lips you growled, “Good boy.”

Your foggy mind expected another bout of anger.

No. Viserys outright whimpered and seized your lips, skinny arms holding tight as he planted his feet and pounded your cunt. He licked into your mouth, tongues dancing together in a style much older than Rome ever was. The senator caressed and sought to drive himself into you, besides his cock of course.

Pulling free from slobbery lips you rasped, “You like that? Dominus just wants to be my good boy? Ah-ct like one and I’ll give you ah-ah-alll the praise you want oh pretty silver!” He nodded fervently, lilac eyes searching your own, whimpering unintelligibly.

His blunt cock head was massaging your most tender spot, driving you to grab Viserys hand and guide it to your swollen Pearl. He picked up easily, eyes lidded with heavy satisfaction at your carrying on. You began to shake, the pleasure heightening to the realm of the gods.

“Ah! Caesar, Viserys, Dominus! I’m gonna,” you convulsed and crumpled atop of him whining when your clit was rudely pinched. Another one wracked your frame when a flood of hot spend filled your warm cunt. You babbled deliriously in your own dialect, Viserys panting and heaving through his heavy unload.

Flattened atop of him now you warily eyed Cupid, little cheeks puffed as he smiled. With a scoff and a residual tremble you said, “I did pray he would strike us. Not sure if it’s love, but I felt the lust.”

Viserys hummed gently, carding fingers through your sweaty curls, “He might have mad contact, I would kill any other woman this brash. Take that as a compliment, you are quite special my baetican vipera.”

“I’ll take it. Do you think our fucking was a good enough offer?”

He barked a laugh, stealing your lips for a peck, “Very much so. We should built a shrine in the manse.”

Translations/Explanations:

* Praetorian Guard: Guard of the Imperial family, Caesar, and special agents

* Sesterce: Roman Coin 1/4 of a denarius

* Denarius: silver coin

* Aedile/Aedileship: Senator of public office, Job that involved maintenance of Public buildings in shape and regulation of public festivals. Also keeping city life in order and that needs are met.

* Cinaedus: Male willing to be the passive partner in a homosexual relationship

* Hispania Baetica: Third province of Spain. Rich and romanized, they are citizens of Rome. Eventually brought up now named cities of Cádiz, Seville, Cordoba.

* Pro-consul: Governor or military commander of a province

* Esquiline hill: One of the seven hills of Rome. A upper class residential district.

* Thrace/Thracian: Area of people spanning between Bulgaria, Greece, and Turkey.

* Briton: Roman conquered England

* Novantae: powerful Celtic tribe in the north of Briton.

* Consul: Highest senate position, has the emperors ear

* Triclinium: a dining room with couches on three sides and a table.

* Capitoline Hill: Name says all they be doing government shit up there

* Pan: Greek name for a forest god with nymphs. A horny goat okay

* Cupid: God of lust/love, son of Venus

* Maritus: Husband

* Dominus: Lord, master, owner

* Caesar: Emperor

* Venus: goddess of beauty and love

* Stola: Women’s dress at the time, feminine version of the toga

* Priapus: Fertiliy protection god known for his HUGE DONG

* Hispanus: From Hispania

[tits4life]

K.I.M J.O.O.N.G.O.O

I love him. No new news. But I fucking love him. I love that adorable little fluffy haired bastard more than words can explain, more than I can talk, more than my entire life. I use pictures because I can't find the corecct words to use most of the time and expressions are the only thing i could show. OK.

Starting from his first appearance

I CAN'T- I-😭😭😭😭😭😭😭twink I don't remember what I exactly thought of him when I first saw this, probs some lanky guy gonna solo some side bitches and save vasco buttt

this pannel

I fucking loved vasco, ok? I loved little vasco and his backstory I am a fucking sucker for gap moes BUT THEN! GOO CAME WITH THIS GOOFY ASS LINE AND I WAS SOLD. SOLD MF. Srs who wouldn't, look at that goofy ass smile, with goofy ass eyebrows, with goofy ass glasses, with goofy ass hair and then that twink ass bod. But this face fr be the I pull when I am with little kids.

I am honestly crying and dying looking at this😭😭😭😭Look at him pull some karate kid move and he is so kjgwbdvk happy and smug😭? HIS HAIR!! HIS HAIRRR💀💀IT'S FUKING GLOWING AT THE BACK LIKE BITCH HE IS MFING GLOWING anddddddd he looks so little here ahkjsgvsgvc

this. I love this. Pookie showed up for the first time and already cracked some eggs. Who wouldn't love him???? First impressions are important. And Kim Joongoo slayed it🦅🦅👄

and this is one of my fav pannels of Goo.If you understand you understand, if you don't then try harder to understand. Because LOOK at that hand, that pose? that smile? like????😭? GAWDDDDDD I WANT TO SQUEEZE HIM SO BAD AND SHAKE HIM LIKLE A MILKSHAKE👹👹👹

currently break dancing to "She's crazy but she's mine'', thanks to hamburger

ANYWAYS i still don't know if I should lable this nightmare or best dream of my life if I saw this on my dream

he still cute tho<3333 but I wouldn't dare go near him, jut a little pat on the head wouldn't hurt tho ;P

that chair was actually me ya'all, he was throwing me😋😋

proof👆

but srs I love this pannel so myuch like he is throwing chair while saying carrying knife is cheap??? mhm Such a cutie pattootie💗💗💗skhdikvckvbsh simply truly adorable you know muy baby😭😭

yes love break all his fingers, break his skull too, break him💓💓💓 how dare that thing touch you. nothing much for me to add here. Slay.

if any one of you dares to say he looks weird. I will come for your throt even tho you are correct but you will be deemed wrong because I said so. ok? lets just all agree he is stuill cute here '3'

And this. Good loard. If this didn't make you stan goo then I don't know hat else will. He looks so chill and goofy eheheheh I love him so much ❤❤ Look at him just munching on snacks while he gets 'accused' my lil meow moew <33333

You might be thinking to just not talk about this, letting it pass as PTJ's old artstyle but NO. He is Kim Joongoo and we love kim Joongoo in amy form of matter or shape. NO KIM JOONGOO PANEL SHALL GO UNLOVED UNDER MY WATCH. Comeon he looks like he might bite but I swear he doesn't. He is just a little silly that's all🥰🥰

coming on to his second appearance

OUR FASHION KING, OUR MESSIAH, OUR BABYBOY, OUR BABY ❤❤❤👄👄💟💟💟❣❣❣💞💞💞💞💞 he was born to slay, if you don't agree go argue with a wall. That long coat >.< i have never seena man wear that long coat and when I searched it, it specifically showed just for women only, baby boy is rocking with that striped socks💞💞💞

understandable I love deadpool and spiderman too<333333

That little heart could end me in less than a second. So if he did talk like how deadpool talks playfully...I am a dead man. I could not be under the influence and still think I would survive a nuclear bomb dropped right above me but this? THIS?? Neh eh I could never survive if I hear him talk like that. I would be a dead piece of meat INSTANT. Gone like the dinosaurs in an instant.

AHHHH PLEASE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH AHHHHHHRFEBETNRYJN😭😭😭😭😭😭 PLEASEEEEE GODDDDDDD

i miss these type of lips not that I am saying the ones we get now are bad but these are just a whole different typr of beasts compared to now. Look at his lips, i want ti pinch it and then apply lip balm to it the wipe it off and apply lipstick on it. Look at them It's so glossy and juicy like for who did he get his lips so plump for WHORE🤨🤨??

silly goo doing silly stuff<3333

sksksksksk I love how his hair looks here. Reminds me of Donald Trump's hair or is it wig idk but I love how Goo looks here

ew.

seeing this bitch made my mood sour. I will continue the ramble later.

[samsalami66]

Never done this before, but have some rambles about a recent Sandman/Baldur's Gate 3 crossover idea of mine!

Naturally, there are some minor bg3 spoilers following, proceed with caution!

Currently my idea is that as the nautiloid crashes through realms, it also crashes through Earth and snatches up a few people . It's not many, they're gone almost as soon as they appear, and Hob is between one of those very few, probably on his way back from a medieval re-enactment. He gets tadpoled and crashes with the rest of the group in Faerûn. Decides to tag along, not necessarily because he's worried, his husband is an Endless after all, and even if their connection seems to have been temporarily cut off by the tadpole, Dream will find him sooner or later and fix this, somehow. He has a lot of faith in his husband.

Anyway, having a fighter in the group who can't die and has been on the battlefield more times than he could count might be helpful to these people.... and they all seem to need an open ear, someone with a bit more experience to talk to. It's also nice to talk to some Immortal and near Immortal people for once!

Anyway, when the dream guardian comes, Hob can't help but snort. Trying to disguise himself as a dream? In front of the King Consort of the Dreaming? Hob was a Good Consort, he prided himself with knowing all currently active Dreams.

This was not one of them.

A real dream would also recognise him as their ruler. So, who is this person who looks just a bit too much like his husband....? (What a terrible disguise anyway, no dream would dare to take on their creators form, not in front of HIM)

He's mighty distrustful of the Dream Guardian and his intentions, tries to find out just what sort of war is being fought in this other plane.

And when he finds Orpheus (and he's just a bit taken aback by the name, by the fact that he could save someone with this name, even if it isn't the Orpheus he wants to save) he swears to free him, fuck the Dream Guardian and his talk about doom and gloom.

In the end, Hob takes care of his new friends, be it in fights or whenever they need someone to listen.

He bumps shoulders with Mizora and Elminster, later Mystra, holds up Cazador so Astarion has a better angle with his dagger, points out Vlaakith's and Shar's bullshit and pisses off the Dead three (hopefully Death won't be too cross with him for that, but he can't imagine his sister in law is particularly fond of these guys.)

Aware of his connection to the Endless Gods cower before him, much to the surprise of his companions. Even their relentless friend and resident undead Withers seems to take a step back whenever Hob approaches.

And when Hob and the others finally slay their final foe and are freed of the tadpole, it only takes moment for Dream to follow their bond and start fussing over Hob, who he had believed to have been captured.

And as I am a weird person in general and my first thought at 3am was to start a new Baldur's Gate run with Hob as my Tav and Dream as my Dream Guardian...

Hob is a Fighter and due to his extensive knowledge with the blade I have decided to make him a Battlemaster Fighter. His background is quite obviously that of a soldier, his skills as a mercenary being what he uses in battle here. Some details are the moon-earrings, which were a gift from Dream, and a fading neck tattoo of a rose that he got shortly after the flopped 1989 meeting.

Dream on the other hand is just your resident edgy twink, earrings also a gift from Hob!

[library-fae]

sudden jumpscare of making a friend and they're like "yeah astarion annoyed me and i killed him in my playthrough" how do you not like the traumatised asshole asexual vampire twink who talks like an edgar allen poe wet dream (gone sexual)

[shadowstarion]

okay but what if astarion shadowheart karlach gale wyll poly. i never get laezel or minthara so idk enough about them to analyze so imma just focus on my Main Camp Team. this gets very nsfw toward the end because i’m ill and i want them all to fuck!

the insane potential for an incredible number of love triangles. it starts with astarion and shadowheart, because he assumes the amnesiac will be the most naive/easy to influence. they pick up gale and astarion finds him annoying while shadowheart finds him sweet and useful to the mission. of course astarion starts trying to compete with and outsmart gale, which just creates an insane amount of sexual tension.

then karlach joins in and shadowheart is immediately smitten with her, leaving gale and astarion to let that sexual tension come to a climax or two. shadowheart, literally conditioned to be non-monogamous is all for it and pouts about not being invited until gale realizes that Oh. Oh. This is a thing that was happening…? well, he can’t blame astarion for liking her, and she’s much sweeter and substantially less threatening than the Girl He Has Feelings For that gale brings to the table.

karlach is a hard one because she is actually insanely monogamous and would be happiest only with shadowheart, trying to ignore the fact that her girl had other partners because she’d never deny her happiness like that. then i think once astarion and gale opened up a bit about their experiences and conditions karlach would really start developing a connection with them that would eventually bleed over into something a little more. she’s used to warming shadowheart up at night, what difference does one more shivering elf at her side make? gale is her fucking bomb bro till the end and he’s super smart and explains stuff to her she doesn’t understand without making her feel stupid.

then we add wyll to the mix. the literal actual genuine knight in shining armor of astarion and shadowheart’s dreams, so kind and honorable and hot they’re down bad. the way wyll suffers under mizora but doesn’t regret his pact with her wins over gale’s sympathy immediately and of course, wyll’s sacrifice to protect karlach gets her right in the infernal engine too.

as for specific small group dynamics ive already gone crazy about shadowheart astarion and karlach so we’ll skip over them for now.

gale -> astarion <- wyll is simultaneously “i want that twink obliterated” and “oh my god you poor injured little stray cat let me nurse you back to health”. very big on the unpacking trauma and having Man Therapy Time that leads to astarion and gale both crying into wyll’s very muscular shoulders

wyll -> shadowheart <- karlach is the knight x princess trapped in a tower x dragon dynamic but the princess and dragon are in love and the knight is an awkward blushing mess who is super into this. i know karlach and shadowheart have some freaky sex so anything with with them would be be BDSM Bootcamp for wyll

shadowheart -> gale <- karlach is fuck your ugly ex you didn’t deserve that, that is NOT love, let us show you how it’s done. they’d also recognize and encourage that little spark of femininity that pops up in gale from time to time and definitely indulge him in it. he’s also an extremely perceptive chatterbox, so honestly i think he’d be the third member of the gossip girl trio over astarion who isn’t quite so analytical

astarion -> shadowheart <- gale is soooo much jealousy competition for shadowheart’s attention but gale is completely oblivious to it. shadowheart adores the concept of being bickered over and feeds into it just a little bit to see astarion squirm. i am a shadowheart fujoshi truther and watching astarion and gale go at it is definitely her cup of tea.

wyll -> astarion <- shadowheart is purely “if anything happens to me, i know you’ll be here to take care of him”. now, put shadowheart in the middle and it’s herding dog x lamb x wolf dynamic all the way. very much the angel and devil on shadowheart’s shoulder when it comes to everything

a really fun one is wyll and karlach + shadowheart and astarion. this i feel would be mostly sexual because what says masc/butch best bros solidarity like topping your respective pretty twink/femme partners together? especially with shadowstar sandwiched between them and kissing like their lives depend on it.

also, there is absolutely some gangbangery happening but they’re very specific about it. if shadowheart is in the middle it’s insanely rough and degrading and pushing her to and sometimes past all her limits with her prior consent of course. she’s definitely into eroticizing her memory loss and getting fucked completely brainless, letting go of all her worries, having everything replaced with love and pleasure and pain that feels sooo so good…

very rarely astarion is in the middle but it’s the complete opposite. they’re all there to love on him, to make him feel good, to make him feel safe and secure. very slow and gentle and at his pace, taking turns touching him and getting him off and completely overstimulating him. someone’s got him held in their arms the entire time, usually karlach or wyll, shadowheart running concentration on his thoughts in case something goes too far and he can’t communicate it. praising him, telling him how good he is, how much he deserves all this love and adoration, etc, helping him completely rewrite the thousands of degrading and harmful sexual encounters he’s had little by little

idk what the opposite of a gangbang is but karlach is just an absolute stamina monster and will sometimes do a bit of circulating because she just can’t fall asleep or she’s too wound up or shadowheart knocked out immediately and she’s sexually frustrated. no one can resist her puppy dog eyes and so she ends up riding wyll into the ground, swapping head with astarion, and having some freaky wizard sex with gale that keeps her going until she’s too exhausted to move

im like chemically addicted to group poly at this point and i will forever be sad you can’t really even do a throuple in-game. however, a girl can dream!