#hngngngn

[s3ibro]

➢ capitano brainrots !

// hi welcome to my brain dump i wrote this at 12:49 am

big man. prolly something around 213 cm / 7 ft? makes him very scary to stand face to face with. the mask doesnt help, it makes him feel distant and inhuman. although, there is an allure to it as well, a mystery you are desperate to get to the bottom of, an unbreakable attraction.

capitano has a habit of watching you from afar, grateful that his mask hides the truth of his gaze. he’s quite sure you would run, full of fear and regret, if you had even the slightest idea of how he truly feels for you. is it hatred? is it carnal desire? something else entirely? what is it that draws him to you? he despises that you are a distraction from his duty as a harbinger, he cannot remember the last time he was touched beyond a battlefield, he sees you smile and he feels that this could quickly become a problem. love has never been in the cards for the harbingers </3

When you’re constantly on the warpath, what you need to stay sane is stability, and that’s what he would look for in a partner. he would like the way you always ask how his day has been, how easily you settle into routine with him, how even so far from schneznaya, he can still a home with you around.

i feel like capitano’s love language would be physical closeness, not necessarily touch, but intimate closeness nonetheless. sitting on a sofa next to him, each of you busy with different things, but still together, silent but showing each other love through the simple of act of being together. or when hes in council and you speak up. one of his advisors is quick to shut you down but capitano is there behind you, strong and cold and comforting. the advisor doesnt try it again.

imagine his hands. large and calloused from decades or perhaps centuries of war, forever scarred from close calls and duels with fearsome enemies. imagine how stunned, how flustered, even, he’d be if you showed those hands affection; if you kissed them and held them and made sure that if the man they belong to ever fell in battle, they’d know love before that moment.

how would he feel if he were forced to betray you for the fatui? what comes first, his loyalty or his lover? in the end, i think he’d chose the fatui. centuries of loyalty weighed against a few more short decades with you,,, he tries to tell himself he’s seeing the bigger picture.

imagine capitano falling in love with you at first sight during a raid on a natlan village. you, so pretty with tears running down your face, weeping as everything you’ve ever known burns. he takes a brief moment to dismount his warhorse, stares down at you in utter silence. you wait for him to swing his blade and put you out of your misery; instead, he grabs you round the waist and hauls you onto his horse, mounts behind you, and as the town burns and the wind lashes your cheeks, youre left in utter shock with no choice but to hold onto him for dear life kinda wanna write this into a full fic but I have so many wips already dhsosoheks

[meldy-arts]

Peacefully gaming 😌

[justapalspal]

I’m an overachiever when it comes to writing but it’s only because I can never figure out what the bare minimum enough is. like. please brain let me get away with just doing the bare minimum. why are we writing so close to the word count maximum all the time

[justghostthings]

laying on my tummy thinkin abt them laying on top n murmering in my ear while they fuck me,,, uh,,,,

[dawnswine]

i was laying in bed and began thinking about how diluc actually attacked kaeya with the intent of killing him.

[allright]

noritoshi who will never admit that he enjoys how reader is a bit of bad influence on him. you encourage him to loosen up and skip out on important clan matters and do things that he would have never considered before meeting them (things that would leave his clan positively scandalized), but he always finds himself giving into you. he knows he really shouldn’t, but how could he say no to you?

[mossy-rainfrog]

[ID: Six black and white traditional drawings of Captain Ahab and Mr. Starbuck from Moby Dick genderbent as women. The first four drawings are individual character design for each woman, and the last two show the characters interacting, and kissing. More detailed ID in ALT text.]

yeah ok so i read a rly deeply phenomenal Holmes genderbend fic by @dickwheelie a bit ago and it inspired me to go insane abt genderbending my own classic lit men so. voila pls enjoy starhab but as butches.

some thoughts: I think both Ahab and Starbuck initially were "undercover" as men at whaling and then Ahab eventually started doing whatever once she got relative job security, but Starbuck goes back and forth on what presentation she's comfortable with. gender is weird for both of them but still giving very bigender vibes from Starb. they both go by 'sir' still tho. designs based on @pocketsizedquasar 's designs as always :3

i have more detailed thoughts but the big points summarize to: women hot. capt ahab can do whatever she wants to me. i heart toxic doomed yuri. free palestine. send tweet.

[mooseonahunt]

*clears throat*

“Hide” by RKS is Serennedy coded.

That is all.

[mooshrems]

ive been avoiding anything bad batch because im still pretty affected by tech, but i just found out bad batch season 3 is its final season :((

[patheticvita]

going insane. dont know if anyone from the stuffedronpa tag is still alive but. cannot stop thinking about izu.ru with a soft little belly i'm going absolutely insane

[s3ibro]

Hallowed

capitano x f! reader

800 words

warnings/tags: not beta read, but no other warnings <3

a/n: this was the first chapter of a fic I was gonna post to ao3 but like… i lost inspiration. im sorry y’all, i think imma stick to one shots. enjoy this tho :)

The Goddess of Love is not known for her forgiveness.

Nobody thinks twice when whispers reach Zapolyarny Palace of a woman in the countryside, some nobleman’s daughter, blessed by the heavens with the power of a vision and beauty beyond compare. They do not realize that some have begun to call her goddess. They do not realize that even amidst the Fatui footsoldiers, blasphemy abounds, and secret prayers are offered behind their masks not to their Tsaritsa, but instead to the Lady Krasota, pleading for her mercy in battles to come, or her blessing in endeavors of courtship.

Sandrone is the first to see. She sees all, hears all, and realizes what it means when victory toasts are made, “To our Lady, to beauty!”

Scouts report nothing when they return from the west; all they say as they kneel before the throne is how lovely it is, how gentle the snows and how quaint the towns.

They are beheaded, right there in the throne room. Tartaglia makes a fine executioner; one need not wipe hydro blades for bloodstains.

The Tsaritsa sends Capitano, the fearsome. She sends him with a small army, and with a mission to burn away the impurity of heresy. Always, he’s been a loyal dog. Her gift to him, a delusion of Geo, sways heavily on its chain as he marches through the early-spring snow.

The whispers and the screams have led him here, this provincial capital called Rybivo.

It is a silent advance to the lord’s mansion, broken only by the snap of ice sheets beneath soldiers’ boots. Capitano need not order his troops with words. When he walks, they march perfectly in his time, left, right, left; when he stops, they stop, snapping to a perfect ready.

There is a solid sound to his knock on your door, metal gauntlet against dark walnut wood; an ax against a chopping block.

Svetla Petrovna moves to open it, but just before she can reach the doorhandle, you stop her with a hand on her shoulder. In her eyes you see it, in your chest, you feel it: Fear. Something about this isn’t right.

“(y/n), who is at the door?” One of your older sisters calls from the foyer. You do not answer, because she already knows.

“I’ll answer it, Svetla,” You tell the servant girl. Her hand does not move from the doorhandle. “Svetla?”

“I won’t let them take you,” She says in a trembling tone, “You-- you are our Lady. Our goddess. They are nothing.”

“No!” You hiss, grabbing her by the shoulders and yanking her from the door. “No, I… I have a request.”

Her eyes, fawnlike with youth, are filled with tears and terrifying devotion.

“Anything for you.”

“Run out the kitchen door, then climb the courtyard wall to avoid the soldiers. Run home as fast as you can. You are not to return to the estate for a fortnight. When you come back, go up to my bedchamber and look in my wardrobe. Inside, you’ll find a stack of papers. I want you to burn them. Can you do that for me?”

Another knock. Your mind goes blank.

“Open the door.”

The man’s voice is slightly muffled, but even through the door you can hear the low, modulated quality it carries… and the threat.

Svetla sprints down the hall towards the kitchens. As soon as she’s past the threshold and round the corner, you open the doors.

A sudden urge to run; a scream forming at the back of your throat.

“I am Capitano, fourth of the Fatui Harbingers.”

Why?

“Yes, I-- It is an honor. What brings you to this tiny village, Lord Harbinger?”

You want to squirm as he cups your jaw in his massive hand, pulling you ever so slightly closer. Through the shadow of his helm, you cannot see his eyes, but you feel them, bouring into you like needles unto flimsy fabric. You hear your pulse in your ears, and each breath gently fogs in the early spring air. At last, he pulls away; the burning sensation of freezing metal lingers.

“I’m searching for a woman. One said to be more beautiful than the gods.”

Again, you feel his eyes rather than see them as they trail down your form.

“Because,” he says slowly, “Our lady the Tsaritsa does not stand for falsities. She is Schneznaya’s sole goddess. And no mortal, no matter how alluring, may ever surpass her.”

Capitano reaches for a strand of hair that has fallen from its place behind your ear, and returns it with surprising gentleness. His voice lowers to a gruff whisper,

“I do believe I’ve found her.”

[chrollogy]

YUEEEEE HAVE YOU WATCHED THE BB SEASON 2 OVAS?!

EEEEEEP HI TAY !!! the way i was also planning on coming to ur ask about BB as well >< !!! i’m still on the second season (ep 9) but not up to the OVAs yet !!

this season is lowkey crazy KANDKSJDNZ i am living for the drama

[defiantbird]

Neck/shoulder fucked up from being tense, random crippling stomach pain, eczema breakout...my body's not dealing with moving stress well. Husband has forbidden me from doing more packing for the rest of the night.

[justghostthings]

if i could crack open my partners ribcage n live in there. i would

[manyothermusingsofmine]

shotgunning a whole fucking can of monster energy is not the brightest idea I've had in a while

[artdcnaldson]

need pressed polo daddy donaldson to be mad at me ngl, not even for anything in particular, its not about me, someone else pissed him off. maybe he lost an important match up to the next open, maybe tashi is pressuring him too much, maybe someone just got on his nerves. who knows and who cares!!!! i want him to take it out on me, spank me just that much harder, grip my hips till they bruise, keep my head down longer on his cock without air. mmmmmmmmm i just need him to be mean to me, for no reason whatsoever, and then apologize profusely after and reassure me that it had nothing to do with me, hes just under a lot of pressure right now. oh and thank me for helping him decompress TIHI

-🐞

Aurrrrrrrrr

He leaves all these bruises and marks— teeth imprints from biting into your shoulder, bruises from his hands pawing at your hips. Makes you cry and drool around his cock as he bullies it down your throat, makes you gag around it so pathetically. Slaps your face while he fucks you, pins you by your throat and squeezes until you feel all light and floaty. Shoves two fingers in your mouth and hooks them into your cheeks so you’re drooling and your lips sting from being pulled. Slams his cockhead against your cervix again and again until your hips are canting away from his thrusts, seeking respite.

Hngngngn and he apologizes so earnestly after, even seems a little embarrassed that he got so intense. It’s not you, it’s that fucking umpire who had a goddamn problem with him that entire match, or it’s that young dickhead kid who thinks he’s better than him because he took home the Wimbledon title, acted all smug across the court.

Whatever, you’re just happy to help <3