#ruby on rails course

[tottentz]

KISS ME FROM THE RUSH .ᐟ ── honkai star rail ?! ❛ i can't get enough ❜ 🗝 ﹢を ˒ㅤ ft. aventurine, blade, dr. ratio, argenti, sunday, jing yuan.

ֶָ֢⊹𐙚 WARNINGS ! mdni. reader has no pronouns but has afab anatomy, soft dom ! character & inexperienced ! reader, dry humping / aventurine, praising, pet names, fingering / boothill + jing yuan, oral ( receiving ) / blade, blowjob + cum swallowing / dr. ratio, implied multiple orgasm + overstimulation, dacriphilia, lil of corruption kink ( if you squint ). ♡ˎˊ˗

mature content ahead ! + please take care of yourself before proceeding.

aventurine .ᐟ

slender fingertips dig into the excess squish of your hips, prompting you to wriggle your waist and forcibly slot your pelvis where aventurine ushers you atop his lap, bunching your skirt in his fidgety palms as you delectably initiate a merciless roll of your hips that had his cock straining against the crotch of his jeans and his own hips eagerly bucking upwards.

he devours you in his embrace, and presses a brief kiss to the corner of your mouth before swallowing every mewl-like cry that parts your lips.

the lengthening drag led your clit to the silver buckle of his belt; pulpous bud sinking against the metal and flattening whenever aventurine thrusted his hips and temporarily pinned the bundle, catching the sensory mound before it dislodged and continued its previous rut.

you hissed through your teeth, breaking away from his lips to speckle rosy contortions into his skin. aventurine impatiently rocks his hips as if a mutt graveling in his heat, stiffening cock occasionally bumping your clit before the imprint would card through your soiled unde, gliding trough the dampened fabric with a friction that could kindle fire.

"that's it, baby," he coos, "almost there..."

he sounds breathless as he speaks, body shuddering when you placed a hot palm to his nape, grounding yourself and forcing coarse friction where you straddled him, desperate to clash against his pants as if you'd soon wear the denim to nothing and leave him bare.

"see...now isn't that nice?" he breathlessly laughs, "you're doing so well..., does it feel good?"

his hips erratically jerk, and the breathless pants from his mouth divulged his own craving, lips blowing against your collar before biting his presence into your skin. he's just as far off as you. ruby red and temple coated with sweat, aventurine is flushed and trembling under your hold. 

all he gets as a response is a pathetic whine, making him grin, "of course it does, sweetheart..." he so desperately wants to ravish what sensible though remained of your dizzying head; fuck you until you couldn't discern the hour of the day, but he refrained. not yet.

"that's it, sweetheart, that's it, cum for me. c'mon give it to me, show me how you pretty you are, yeah?." 

and you do, you gasp and squeal when the high finally crashes over you. he slows his thrusts, barely letting you go before carefully pressing back in, working you diligently through the high s you tremble and cream all over his pants like the sweet thing you are. 

blade .ᐟ

to his surprise, you don't yelp or squeak or become flustered when he occupied himself between your legs, only biting your lip as wild pulsations rendered your brain to mush and melted your forefront conscious into a haze of silver lining.

 matching the complex twist of the interstate, your abdomen began to tie its knot of arousal and nervousness, your posture tensing into a deep arch that forced your head against the leather seat and a whimper to fall from your glossed lips, and before you could cover your face with your hands, blade quickly hold your wrists down again.

"don't." his voice is mereley above a whisper as erratic shivers shook your withering figure against the bed.

 "you okay?" you choke intead a series of strangled moans following his order.

"i'm okay." he muses on that notion for a time, flicking his thumbs over your throbbing clit, the strokes stimulating the hardened bud that felt as if would burst in due time. nimbly dragging the anxious tips of your fingers between your legs. "it feels good?." 

you sniffle and nod, "really good..."

he hums and leans down, kissing your clit for one fleeting second before his hands are on your knees, keeping them pinned to your chest while he sat between your thighs as he licks at you, tentatively until he hears you quietly moan. then he's lapping, eager, pressing his face firmer against your cunt. 

the pressure was unfamiliar but it wasn't bad. in fact it felt really good, all the while your taste fills his mouth, floods his tongue, and he knows without a doubt that he would try this over again.

"blade-!" you gasp, reaching down to tangle your hands in his hair, effectively messing it up.

his cock is painfully hard in his pants but he can't bring himself to care -- not when he's got your spread like this, working your towards your high with every touch he gives you.

and when you finally cum, it's with a harsh tug of his hair. drawing his name from your lips, you arched further into the sheets as the last of your orgasm shook your weak limbs. his name carried significance. the tenor more than just a lovely echo of your rapture. 

he hums, opening his pretty eyes to look at you. when he pulls away, theres a string a spit connected to his lips before he smiles, letting you close your thighs and curl up. the sight of you breathless and teary eyed from the intense orgasm makes him want to go for seconds.

dr. ratio .ᐟ

"what do you want?" veritas asks. he shifts a bit, the mattress creaking again. a hand lands in your hair. it doesn't pull or tangle. gentle. too gentle. he never pulls when asked; for now, you slowly relaxe into this.

"it would be good if you hurry up, too,"you remained at attention. readily awaiting as if a devoted minion who had yet to receive orders.

"impatient."veritas hums, his touch unhurried. he takes his time more than he takes. you have never known what to do with it. you still don't, now, with goosebumps on your skin.

"and you're awfully slow," you say. "i just wanna make you feel good, you know."

there's a low, thoughtful hum. veritas is always thinking. you never know what he's thinking about, but veritas Ratio is a beautiful frowner, anyways.

"very well" a sigh. tiredness, fondness. you are too dizzy on pleassure to tell "open," veritas directs, lightly touching beneath your chin. his hands are warm. he touches with purpose. efficiency, but no lack of gentleness. he touches you like a craftsman touches his work. you open your mouth.

you impishly swiped your tongue past your lips before bringing your parted mounds to the base of his dick. puckishly dragging your tongue against his pulsating sex, you followed the protruding vessels of blue, soon hallowing your cheeks as to sink your head towards his pelvis. 

it earns him a soft hiss. veritas is never loud, but he's always honest. you rub your tongue along the underside, tracing the crown, flicking the slit. 

a whispered curse word. veritas' hips press up a little, his hand settles on your head, there is too much saliva in your mouth, you don't know how to do it, and so you let it make a mess instead. 

veritas curses again, his hand stays in place, though he's not trying to hold you in place. he makes a few shallow thrusts, cock sliding deeper, rubbing the back of your throat until you gag on your own spit, and then veritas eases you off to come up for air.

"good," veritas tells you, low and rough at your water-welled tear ducts glossed your eyes in crystalline solution. veritas is gentle even in this.

he warns you that he's close, and you moan like encouragement. his pace gentles. you are allowed to control the pace again, to pull off if you want to, but you stay.

veritas' thighs tense on either side of you, his breathings hallow and unsteady. he's always been beautiful in pleasure. all of him. veritas comes in waves on your tongue a moment later.  

"pretty." veritas says contemplatively, careful not to waste a drop, so when his hand falls from your hair to your spit-slick chin, examining you, he can whip the mess from your chin with his knuckles. ever kind, ever considerate. 

boothill .ᐟ

"stop staring" a moan rises in the back of your throat, and he thinks you look beatiful, how you shie away, hiding your mouth behind the palm of your hand when your moans begin to get loud, closing your eyes in ecstasy, letting the unintelligible noises melt away as boothill's hand slips inside your underwear.

"'m'enjoying the view." he runs the other hand down from your face to your chest, it dances on your body, caresses the curve of your neck, the valley of your breasts, rolling the sensitive bud beneath his fingertips, mindful to place bruising kisses along your neck where deep shapes of his ministrations would be left for you to cover.

his lips latche onto the skin of your shoulder, and he worked his away along the base until kissing the incision of flesh that dimpled behind your ear. 

“look at ya,” perceptible to his observant gaze, your shoulders trembled enthusiastically, accompanying the quiver of your knees that were soon to clamp around his hand. “fudge, you're gon' be the death 'o me, darl.” he cooes against your heated skin, noting the way your hold on him tightened.

his fingers press inside, and the both of you groan together. his digits are slender, dangerous maybe, and he eases them in so slowly it makes you whine. your hips buck up against his hand, back arching, and he chuckles, a cold hand pressing down on your navel to keep your steady.

"there ya go. not so desperate after all, hm?" the sensation so riveting that you are tender into his arms as he fucks you, somehow both gentle and rough. 

his fingers are sharp but slow, calculated to hit against your sweet spot with every thrust. he's filling the silence with gentle hums, encouraging you as you wither away, gasping and panting and begging.

"too good f'me," he whispers, crowding himself against your chest so you feel the cold metal of his own pressed up againts your skin, all over you. "aren'tcha?" there's a retort on the tip of your tongue, but the moment you open your mouth to speak, his hand  squeeze your cheeks together "aren'tcha?"

you're nodding before you know it.

"i am," you whimper, hands bracing yourself up. your arms are quivering from the endless sensation of his big hand on you, slicking up and down and up and down slowly. he is bringing you to your climax with every soft kiss he press into your shoulder. "i'm good for you."

and you can't help the words that spill out of your mouth as you cum hard around his fingers, that twinge into the air between you. you shuddered and almost screamed through your last orgasm, a slow rolling thing after the two ecstasies preceded it. 

unfamiliar with actions that caused your pretty little lips to squeal, boothill was sure to conduct each one, refusing to yield his practice until you had been blinded by sheer white, breathless and convulsing in his arms.

argenti .ᐟ

you hook your arms around argenti's neck before bringing him down for another kiss—one with more fervor, more intensity than you would otherwise offer. he doesn't reciprocate for a moment, seemingly astonished with your sudden vigor. but in time, he melts against your lips until one after the other.

such as now, his heavy body draped over yours, hips flush against you with his thick cock buried inside you.

"shh," he coos, fingers laced between yours as you sob and wail into the bed, feet mindlessly kicking as you cum around his stationary cock. he presses his lips against your shoulder, "how do you feel?" he teases you as you sniffle and tearfully look at him over your shoulder.

"s'good," you whisper and he smiles so sweetly at you that it makes your heart flutter.

he chuckles again, soft and reassuring as he lifts your thighs with strong hands, bracketing them again across his hips. 

"i know it does," he responds, carefully rutting his hips against you, stirring his cock within your walls, "you came so quickly."

"'again-!" you cut off to moan when he suddenly pulls back, "wanna  cum again"

"again" he considers, and you jolt when he pins your hips in place with one hand while seizing your wrist with the other. his look immediately morphs into something more captivatin, chuckling, "i'll make you cum again,"

but contrary to your expectations, argenti doesn't start fucking you into the mattress like a wild animal. instead, he hoists your hips even higher, holding your body at an odd angle. you're about to ask what he's trying to do, but when he plunges his cock back into your weeping hole, the words evaporate on your tongue.

"you are so beutiful," he assures. his sudden, unrelenting pace continues from then on out. argenti grips your thighs hard, but not enough to leave bruises. 

his discretion makes your heart flutter, but you can't quite bask in the sentiment given that his cock is hitting all the spots that make stars dance in the seams of your vision.

deep. he's so impossibly deep that you fear it'll take you days to sweat him out. a trail of saliva dribbles on your chin as argenti slowly guides you to the apex of an orgasm.his name sounds like an incantation on your lips, and you wonder if the aeons would let you have this man forever.

"argenti!" you squealed, gasping as you reached down to grab his wrist, "oh! wait, 'm gonna-!"

"it's alright," he assures, voice just as soft and even as ever, "just let it happen. want you to feel good for me."

your eyes roll back in your head and you gasp, al the while he whispered praises as you trembling and gushed, soaking his hand and cock. but he didn't mind, he just enjoyed the sight of you feeling good all because of him.

sunday .ᐟ

mass against his own. his chest is keenly pressed into your breasts, pinning you to the mattress with an intimidating vigor and a punishing snap of his hips. 

your ankles knock together behind his nape, and your knees crudely tense by your ears. a palm is cleaved at your waist, nails shoveling into the fat of your hips as the other hooks the bend of your knee into a firm mating press.

 your fingertips fiercely claw at his shoulders, scrambling for a pillar to keep your conscious ground and aware, but you can count the stars behind your glossy lids, another flitter of light flickering into the dark as the male slotted between your legs commences another tunneling of your tiny cunnie.

"'s too much—" tears descend the swell of your heated cheeks, droplets streaking your skin and smearing the mascara you previously applied to your fluttering lashes, brows tense and crinkled as your eyes lulled towards the back of your head and exposed the reddened white of your dazed optics.

"is that so?" a hum colored his tone, mocking and high, "i just want to be selfish and feel you cum around me. that's okay, isn't it?"

he lets your head fall to the bed again as he pauses the pounding of his hips to reach for your face, grabbing the fat of your flushed cheeks before he presss his thumb on your bottom lip.

you're embarrassingly compliant, parting your lips at the same time—tongue swirling around his skin as you cover them in a sheen of saliva. sunday doesn't say a word, but there's an uncharacteristic glint in his eyes that you never would've associated with him earlier.

"but do look pretty like this." his strong hand lets go of your face, instead moving to gently move your hair from your face where it's stuck to the mix of saliva and tears- the juxtaposition reminds you again of how much he actually cared."you know i always want to make you feel good."

a tap to your temple brings you out of your stupor- you're mindless, you're a mess, it's humiliating, but he smiles down at you. "you can give me one more, hm?"

you whimper; mewl as if language were unknown to you. all you can do is cry, sob, as his splits your little pussy in half. your name echoes from his kiss swollen lips as his fucks you harder into the mattress. his brain is in shambles; cluttered and screwed as if he had lost reasoning, but he was aware of himself; aware of his present endeavor-

he won't stop until you are sobbing his name, eagerly arching your tremoring pelvis into his own because he had begun to relentlessly hammer a delicate plot that induced your vision to flicker and blurrily haze with spangled glimmers of hot electricity.

jing yuan .ᐟ

there's just something so sweet about your voice when you are desperate. when you are laying in front of you, legs trashing as jing yuan watches, a small smile on his face as you try, try so hard to angle his fingers just right.

"can't," you whimper, free hand reaching out for him. but he leans back, smiling in faux sympathy. 

the nimble pads of his fingertips pried apart your slicken folds to clamp at the inflated bud between your legs, amber optics indifferent to your puppy-dog pout and repetitive mantra of plea as he forcibly held your thigh apart, eyes flittering the expanse of your skin when you pitifully cried and spoke incoherent requests he blatantly neglected to acknowledge.   

he hums softly, shifting closer to you and hoisting you up by your armpits, he settles you in his lap. "better?" he murmurs against your skin, taking the vibrator in your hands and pressing it up against her drooling cunt, buzzing along her clit. she chokes out a small, yes, before burying her face in your shoulder.

"feels good, doesn't it?," he whispers. "tell me."

he can feel you tensing every time he pushes his calloused fingers just a little deeper, the way your toes curl and your ankles dig into his back. he knows you feel good. he just wanna hear it. "'s good," you whimper. "good!— feels really good."

"gonna cum?" he cradles your face with his free hand, dipping his head down to press a small kiss to your lips, swallowing your breaths. "gonna cum for me, yeah?"

you nod. your brain's melted into pretty pink goo, oozing out of your ears with every second his fingers keep fucking into you. he pushes you, keeps pushing you into ecstasy, until your unravelling on his fingers. "oh," he coos. "so pretty, look at you."

you don't know when you start cumming. you don't know when you stop. he doesn't stop though, never stops. he keeps fucking into you, the sensation so riveting you don't even feel your third orgasm until it materialises in your trembling legs.

jing yuan hushes you. "just let me, dear," he makes quick work of your clit, having you gasping his name "so good f'me, yeah? cum, come on. i know you got it in you."

you stifle your cries into his shoulder, and he smiles softly. it's times like these where he looks at you with hearts in his eyes, when he brushes the soft hair and tuck it behind your ear in a move of adoration. it's times like these when he thinks that you are so good, so sweet, you'd do anything he say, right?

. ࣪✦ ៸៸ tottentz ▐ © 2024 ､ ? 𓄹 ܵ ۪

[gremlingottoosilly]

Bimbo!Reader that's dumb and normal except for the part she actually likes and support Mafia!König's killings,

"as long as you keep buying me stuff"

You let him fuck you seconds after he just shot some poor guy for not bringing enough money to the family. Or, maybe, for trying to fuck them over - you don't really care, not when your pussy is getting pounded by his large cock and his big hands are grasping your waist. Squeezing it, playing with soft skin. Kissing your neck all over and nuzzling in the crook close to your shoulders. Konig is weirdly clingy after killings - maybe he is trying to reinforce a soft and cuddly vibe on you, not letting you remember him as cruel. Not like you care, of course - not like you care where the money come from, as long as it pays for your dresses, expensive makeup and outings with the girls. You smile, pressing your lips against his cheek. At least he stopped wearing his mask around you - at least you can look at him properly. The face of a lover. You abuse the power you're holding over him, sometimes. Point your cute manicured finger in the general direction of a guy who wronged you. Maybe it's your ex - Konig wanted to kill all of your past partners themselves, but there are a few, particularly shitty, who you actually want to see dead. You point to a guy, and he is dead - Konig shoots him himself, letting you pick out the gun and maybe even a torture method if you want to be cruel. Konig calls you his cute little psycho and gives you some rubies as a little gift - red looks good on you, as he says. You don't even want to listen to him ramble about his job - but you spread your legs and let him rail his cock into your needy hole as he goes on and on about his day. It's like therapy to him - but he gets to kiss a pretty bimbo on her nose and nuzzle into her soft chest as she asks about the next big purchase. Of course he'd up the limit on your card -- you look too good in new dresses for him to stop giving you things, seriously.

[deepspace-raconteur]

The porn bug bit me again. This time it’s Sylus lmao

Kink discussion, Sylus’ trauma gets mildly triggered which leads to said discussion, choking, MC’s ankle almost breaking leads to trauma discussion, we love healthy conversations here, even if it is a little like pulling teeth with Sylus, evasive bastard, AFAB MC,

Sylux x MC, established relationship.

🍷🐦‍⬛

It really was an accident.

You and Sylus had been making out feverishly against the wall of his bedroom. There hadn’t been any particular lead up this time. You had just gotten back from some random gala or another. Sylus had insisted, as he always does, that you be dripping in jewels for the event.

“I’d like to show off my most prized treasure, covered in the favorites of my collection. Is that so wrong, sweetie?” He had said, fingers warm as he had draped a delicate collar of rubies around your throat earlier that evening.

He had been in the process of removing said necklace when you looked up at him with those eyes. The ones that would be is undoing in an instant if you so willed it.

Actually, that might’ve been the lead up.

Either way, you’re cupping his face with both your hands as he pins you against the wall. One arm brackets your head, the other is on a not-so-stealthy mission to hike your gown as far up your thigh as it will possibly go.

Which is pretty far, actually. His warm palm is searing against your upper thigh, his strong fingers digging into the plush flesh there. You can practically see him planning his next moves- hike your leg up on his hip, then command you to jump so that your other leg joins it around his hips. Keep the dress on, so he can continue to fulfill his fantasies of fucking you in every outfit he buys you, and go till sunrise.

Simple, really.

So of course it’s doomed from the start to go completely off the rails.

It’s when he suddenly grabs your leg to hike it up around his waist that the trouble rears its head. Trouble that he’d dearly hoped wouldn’t come up ever, and desperately hates speaking about.

He, and his grip, are stable as always. He smirks against your lips, and his grip is tight around your lifted thigh.

Your other heeled foot wobbles dangerously. A sprained, if not broken, ankle is imminent. You gasp into the kiss, eyes opening wide, and you try to catch yourself on instinct.

Your hands that had previously been cupping his face so passionately fly away suddenly. The intention is to grab his shoulders, and one does, solidly gripping his trapezius.

The other, however, doesn’t quite hit the mark.

Your hand lands more on his lower throat than truly his shoulder, and your thumb digs in just below his adams apple as you try to catch your balance.

You feel his entire body jerk and freeze. He inhales deep and sudden through his nose, and pins you harder against the wall. It feels different. His grip is tighter, and he jerks his upper body away. The hand of the arm that was previously bracketing your head is now gripping your bicep hard, and the other hand had slide up to your hip to pin it to the wall.

He suddenly feels farther away from you than he ever had, all while still in arm’s reach.

“I-I’m sorry!” Comes out of our lips as more of a jerk reaction than anything. “Did I scratch you? Are you okay?” Concern floods your tone.

You don’t know what just happened. The sensations and memories that you had just accidentally inflicted on Sylus. Years of brutal gladiatorial combat that you, his partner in the ring, didn’t even remember.

Years of being thrown around and controlled by hands around his neck. Forced to do things, forced to kill, choked within an inch of his life at the will and whimsy of others. It’s a… sensitive area, for him.

The faraway look in his eyes is clearing as you carefully extract yourself completely from him, now back on stable footing. The heels come off immediately as you watch Sylus concernedly.

He doesn’t say anything, which is the strangest part. Usually he’s always ready with a quip or comment, but now… he doesn’t seem to know what to say.

“My love? Are you okay?” You try again, walking back up to Sylus. Carefully, ever so carefully, you place your hands lightly on his chest and look up at him. He shudders, and you start to retract your touch, but he quickly winds his arms around your waist and pulls you close.

“Sorry, sweetie. I’m not a fan of choking.” He chuckles almost awkwardly, and your eyebrows raise. This was the first you were hearing of it, but you can read the pain between his lines. No touching his throat- got it.

“Oh no… so when I used you to catch my fall… oh, I’m sorry, my love. I’ll never do it again.” Your eyebrows furrow, and you lean up to press a quick, chase kiss to his lips in apology. He leans down into it, swiftly deepening it with that underlying passion in him that never seemed to fully recede.

“It’s alright sweetie, I know it wasn’t on purpose. I just… had a hard factory reset there for a moment. That’s all.” His humorous way of putting it brings a smile back to your lips, but it’s still cautious.

“While we’re on the topic, actually, I’m not a fan of having my senses cut off in bed either.” Sylus continues on tangentially, earning a quizzical look. He still had plans for you this evening, after all, and what better foreplay is there than talking about what gets you hot and bothered?

He continues to speak, while his sneaky hands reach around to the zipper at the back of your dress. Warm hands ease it down slowly while he talks about what he likes in bed in that low, smooth voice of his. In a tone that he knew you were practically pavlovian trained to respond to at this point.

“Blindfolds, earplugs, etcetera. Handcuffs are fine, actually, as I find them rather easy to break out of.” He smirks cockily, and you’re sure he’s referring to the event where Kieran and Luke had given you a “tranquilizer gun” and “evol sealing handcuffs”.

You still needed to get the bastards back for that, actually.

“Plus, it’s fun seeing how you abuse that perceived power. You remind me of Mephisto with his feathers puffed up when you think you have the upper hand.” That little comment earns him a full pout, even as the silk dress slides off your body like water to pool on the floor at your feet. You’re just in your lingerie now, and Sylus’ eyes take their time sweeping across your form. He’d bought this set for you, and damn did he have a good eye for finery.

“Now, sweetie,” Sylus purrs, one hand undoing his belt and pulling it from its loops, just to let it fall to the floor. The other pops the buttons of his shirt one by one, your eyes following each bit of revealed skin like you’re hypnotized.

“I just spilled my heart out to you,” he continues. Familiar red and black energy suddenly grabs you up and throws you back onto the bed. You squeak and bounce, and he kneels up on the bed to crawl over you.

“I think a bit of… reciprocation is in order. Won’t you tell me what makes you weak in the knees, darling?” He growls into your ear. He situates himself happily between your legs, looking at you expectantly while your face rapidly heats. Hands meander and tease up and down your body, massaging the ankle that had wobbled dangerously then going back up to press a kiss to your hipbone, then your collarbone.

“Are you going to make me have to torture it out of you?” He snickers, eyes flickering up to meet yours.

“No! No, I’m- I’m just… thinking.” You stutter abashedly. You hadn’t really discussed it with a partner before- Sylus by far was both the kinkiest, and the one you were most comfortable with. You didn’t actually have all that much experience, and therefore not many known preferences… or icks.

But you know you did have one. One that, in the new context of things…. you were unsure of how it would go over. But honesty was the policy here, right?

…Right?

“I… I like being handled.” Your words are quiet and shaky, which could be partially blamed on the fact that Sylus was lining kisses along the edge of your underwear. He hums in acknowledgment- he’d sort of assumed that one, from how much he’d already ‘handled’ you before, and how badly you’d been into it.

The time that you’d ridden him until your thighs gave out after he’d yanked you out of a wanderer’s path then carried you home still ranked in his top 10 sex-wise.

“… being choked is also included in being handled.” Is whispered, and comes out like a most grievous confession. You look halfway between crying and pleading for forgiveness when he looks up at you from where he’d begun mouthing over the wetness of your panties.

“Is that right, sweetie?” He smirks, sitting up to instead hover over you. Like this, it’s emphasized just how big of a man he is. You nod, seeming for everything like a pathetic wet cat. Yet another ‘I’m sorry’ begs to drip off your tongue, and you regret ever saying it out loud. For shit’s sake, the man just finished divulging his trauma over that exact thing. Seriously?!

His hand glides smoothly up your side, and over your still-lingerie-clad breast, pausing to squeeze just to make you shiver. It then continues its path up, up, up… before curling loosely around your neck. Your heartbeat speeds to a rabbit’s pace, and you look up at him doe-eyed. He’s still smirking, eyes lingering over his hand while his thumb rubs circles into the soft skin of your throat.

He leans down to kiss you chastely on the lips, then another to your cheek, and another and another until his lips reach your ear.

“Luckily for you sweetie, I like how my rings look against your throat.”

His fingers tighten.

[aritsukemo]

Comfort at the Edge of Darkness | Himeko

Summary: Himeko is the best at comforting people, even if that person is knocking on death's door.

Warnings: Major Character Death ahead! ( reader ) This drabble was written with strictly platonic intent! ( Reader is implied to be underaged ) Teen/Pre-teen reader is implied ( whichever you want to envision ) Reader is also lightly implied to be a Masked Fool. Mentions of being crushed ( Reader had a giant pillar fall on them and end up bleeding out ) I still consider myself a new player to HSR so Himeko may be a bit ( or very ) ooc. With all that said, read at your own discretion.

A/N: Did I plan to ever write something star rail related? Yes, yes I did. Did I think it would be platonic or involving Himeko comforting a dying child? No, no I did not- 💀 Uh, anyways, this was spontaneously written at like two in the morning after reading this Dan Feng x reader drabble made by @milksnake-tea ( go check them out btw, their writing is AMAZEBALLS ) so I'm sorry if this is a bit sloppier than my usual works. I'll try not to let it happen again! 🙏

Tagging: @nursedflowers / @onmysundaybest

People are such liars.

It's not like they can help it. Like eating and sleeping, lying was just another humanly function the body nor mind could resist. It's impossible for someone to be 100% truthful all the time because even claiming that would be a lie in itself.

All that's to say that you've been told many lies in your lifetime and have spewed such falsehoods just as much. Others' lies are what led you down this path and your own have both built you up and made you fall from grace with almost no hope of crawling your way back up. Both have made you the enemy of many, but neither have made you friends with the few good saps you've come to travel with. Those pathetically soft and forgiving Trailblazers you've come to dine with, joke with, cry with, and ultimately, die for.

Heh. It was all so stupid.

That's what past you would probably say to you right now if they were here to see your hair being dyed red by your own pool of blood. They'd probably scoff, maybe even sneer at the sight of the bottom half of your body crushed under this pillar. And oh, the way they'd absolutely glare with disappointment and disgust at the sight of your smile growing like it is right now, or rather, who it was directed at.

"Miss Navigator, heh.. Come to send me off?" Talking felt like running without toenails. It felt like sticking a sword down your throat. It hurt like hell. But, it is in your character to joke at a time like this.

And what were you without this role you've been playing for oh so long?

"Y/n... You.." Her voice was unlike her usual cheerful mellowness. It was sunken, rasped by dreadful surprise. It was a tone you never thought would come from her ruby lips. To you, she always seemed like the type to be composed in a situation like this one.

Maybe she would if the person laying under this pillar wasn't you. Who knows.

"I've had worse done to me honestly.." You managed to force yourself to say, though it left a bitter taste in your mouth. You roll your tongue and that bitter taste begins tasting more and more metallic, though you decide to ignore it in the end.

"Heh..aren't you happy?" You asked, "Finally..at long last.. The-.. The Astral Express will be rid of pranks and folly. It'll..at last, harbor the peace it once had.."

"Of course I'm not," She whispers. You pick up on the slight quiver her normal voice deceptively masks, "Why would I be happy about something like this?"

"Why wouldn't you?" You asked, for once, with your genuine emotions leaking over your tone.

You couldn't wrap your head around a reason for such a reaction as the one on her face. Sure, maybe the aspect of your age may cause a heartstring to be tugged, but that would be more so out of disappointment because of the wasted potential—the extraordinary power and protection—that would be lost following your death, and even then, you don't see that as something she should be relatively choked up about. After all, with the luck the Astral Express has, there's bound to be much stronger vessels than yourself willing to join the freight that would give them much less of a headache. That Stellaron for example.

..Now that you really think about it, what even was their reason for inviting you on the train at all? They had more than capable people aboard already, and while the untapped power within you could bring worlds to their knees, those goody goodies would never think of using it. You weren't much for peaceful entertainment either and caused nothing but discourse amongst the crew members even after swearing to turn over a new leaf when you became a Trailblazer.

It made no sense. She made no sense, and to that, you sought out answers... Though, the one you received wasn't very satisfying; silence.

So you ask her, though with a bit of your typical sarcasm, "Why..Miss Navigator...aren't you jumping for joy over this thorn in your side finally being cut away?"

And she answers with sickening authenticity, "Because I wished to protect you."

You huff out a laugh, though you end up coughing up more blood than air. It was incredulous. After all, there was no need for someone such as you, younger or not, to be coddled and protected like some wounded birdie. Your character wasn't constructed for such a pillowy fate.

"You of...all people know I'm in no need of protection," You say, "It's not something I deserve or yearn for... It's utterly pointless to me."

"Is that really what you think? ..Because all I can see is child in need of nothing more than that," Your eyes widen. Himeko catches a glimpse of it for only a moment and it tugs at her heart strings when thinking about how it'll be one of the last expressions she'll every see you make. You, who though once walked the path of darkness with your fool's mask and caused many nothing but pain and suffering, she could never come to even greatly dislike.

..Because in her eyes, you were never a criminal or a murderer or a weapon of destruction. You were just a fledging who attempted to soar too early and ultimately fell out of their nest and into a dangerous forest of tyrannical wolves and manipulative foxes. You were just a child who was ripped apart and never pieced back together—who, at some point, must've screamed and cried for their mother to come and take them home, surely.

And in the face of such a person, how could she have wanted anything more than to whisk you off to safety and slowly mend you back together? To teach your body that it was made for more than just endless strife and pain? To let your soul become aware of the fact that the role of your character was no longer needed because she was here now to witness your vulnerability and allow it to spread free of consequence, cherish it, and shield it as if it were a precious gem?

"Hey... Miss..Navigator," She heard your faint call. She looks down again, her eyes at a sorrowful downcast as she asked, "Yes?"

"I'm...real' sleepy... Could I.." You didn't finish your sentence. You couldn't, but whether that was because you were adamant on dying wearing your cracked mask or that it was simply too much work to continue formulating your sentence was unknown.

Nevertheless, your silent request reached her and in seconds your head was resting on her thighs and one of her hands had found purchase in the only one you could still feel.

In an instant, her warmth began to spread throughout your body, replacing the warmth that had long since left you. It felt nice, kinda like taking a warm bath after treading through a blizzard to get home. And, as stupid as it was to admit, the feeling unclasped the lock that you had placed in the very back of your mind—unsealed the gate you had barricaded past memories your heart was never able to part with behind—and brought you back to a time you had forgotten long ago.

And for the first and last time, you broke character and allowed the tears to fall freely and wet your cheeks, all while a look of tranquility crossed your features; like a little kid dozing off to sleep after a long day's work of playing with the same broken toys.

And as numbness began to creep over your consciousness, you whispered to her, "Good..night... Miss Navigator..."

To which she returned the favor, as any mother would do, "Goodnight, dear.. I hope your dreams are forever sweet."

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[yuseirra]

Scary face~

I'd been thinking, but that really freaky face Kamiki made near the end of the story? That could also be referencing the myths. The god who he stands for was known for having a very intimidating face (had no effect on his wife Ame-no-Uzume but it did scare off all the 80,000 other gods besides her though!!)

Some analysis under the read more!

There's no mention of Sarutahiko being ugly in the myths. (I mean, him and Ame-no-Uzume fell in love at first sight and got together on the spot... Of course, it doesn’t seem like that goddess was particularly tied down by anything. She probably would've liked him regardless of how pretty he looked)

But there is talk about him looking scary. He didn’t look normal—more like a monster—so the 80,000 gods, except for Ame-no-Uzume, couldn’t even approach him just because he was standing there.

So doesn’t that mean that eerie, bizarre expression Kamiki made at the end was a reflection of that?;;; and that talk about him being a monster as said by Akane?

It was terrifying… like something straight out of a horror movie. That expression was way too unsettling.

I wondered why they drew it that way, but—

In the original myth, Sarutahiko didn’t actually have any ill intent. It was just that his face looked like that, so he got misunderstood.

I don’t know;; I mean, in Kamiki’s case too (that character is Sarutahiko Okami;;;), we don’t actually know whether he had any real malice or not. Personally, I think there’s a pretty high chance he didn’t.

But because of his expression and the way he looked, Aqua got all triumphant like, “You’re the problem here!” And then everyone else was like, “Oh, this guy’s seriously evil, huh?”

There’s no actual basis for it!!! There’s no proof at all. Except for this one really messed-up thought about Ruby he has, but for even that, we don't even know if he actually attempted to kill Ruby or have plotted/devised something against her because, didn't her stage end safely!! Didn't this man tell Aqua to go watch her!! Follow her journey and see her perform at the dome!! That means he wouldn't have let her die at least before she performed there!!!

And I keep saying this, but Sarutahiko’s real ability is guiding things towards a positive direction/future.

If that’s the case, then sure, in this story, all these strange incidents happening might technically be Kamiki’s fault. Because he's lost. Looking for Ai(Love). But whether he actually intended it or not—he said he didn’t.

Of course, his goal must have been to elevate/amplify Ai’s presence. And at this point, he’s indeed fallen into darkness.

But honestly, rather than being outright evil, I think his nature just got distorted. So… does that still count as evil?;

I mean, he did do a lot to try and bring Ai back in a sense.

But I don’t really feel malice from him. It’s more like… he was just so desperate to see Ai again that he lost his mind. That method—that was all he had, so he went off the rails. If there had been any other way, wouldn’t he have taken it? Was he ever really in his right mind to begin with? Besides, he really didn't do anything much in a physical sense, did he? So just how much of it was his intent and what exactly did this guy do anyway?? What I'm guessing is that what he's said is partly true, he didn't do anything in a physical sense, and he never wanted people to get hurt in the process but he still went for it because he thought it was the only way- the songs are what covers this aspect of him. He kept trying to offer things to bring Ai back or get closer to her I guess, he is not sane at this point of the story...

They would have had to stop him, of course.

But if you think about it… Ai and this guy really loved each other. They must’ve been happy together.

I just can’t imagine him doing anything bad to Ai. There’s not a single action in the story that proves he’s the kind of person who would orchestrate something against her.

And why is that?

The story is based on a mythological couple known for their deep bond. And now we’re supposed to believe the husband plotted against his wife? Why would the story be written like that? For what reason? This is so ridiculous.

Everything about what he’s done and how the situation is unfolding—it all lines up with that Sarutahiko god. That’s the only way to explain the bizarre events in this manga, or why Ai asked him to be helped.

If that’s the case… ugh… this is just horrifically tragic.

I really think Tsukuyomi is the real mastermind… What exactly can she do if she supposedly governs fate? Looks to me like all she did was try to get rid of Kamiki. What was she doing while Ai was alive? Just watching her die? Isn’t that what drove Kamiki insane? Was there really no hope from the start? It feels like she just let things play out because Amaterasu had to shine.

Like—“Retrieve the two troublesome gods and replace them with Amaterasu.”

Unless that was her mission all along, I have no clue what Tsukuyomi actually did in this story. She even let Aqua die… She totally used Aqua for her own ends. I can’t see her in a positive light at all… Or maybe she was acting on orders from some creator god or whatever. That could be a possibility

Did Kamiki and Ai violate some divine taboo or something? Their lives were way too cruel. Did they get punished just for reincarnating as humans of their own free will? Because their life was really cruel to them; Kamiki has all the right to curse his own fate, nothing works out for that guy.

A friend told me that maybe the author will explain some of this in another story that shares the same universe-

But personally, I think the full truth of one story should be revealed within that story itself.

One more thing, Sarutahiko is the guidance god- the god who directs everything into goodness, right?

I've been thinking, but I think that power may work in reverse when he's in bad shape (black star). That's probably why Ai got pregnant when both of them were totally unready (Ai says he was really crushed back then), how Ryosuke and Nino approached this guy and went after Ai, how Ryosuke went to stab Ai when Kamiki asked him to deliver a flower for him etc.

Remember how his eyes briefly turned white when he met Ruby? That's because Ai's love was transmitted to him through Ruby's eyes. So he was briefly restored of his original powers then-

Thus, that's how Ruby's wish got granted. because, he was able to grant wishes in the right way the way he should have been (along with Ai)

He went to visit his children last thing before he thought he'd rot away and all, didn't he? and what did he do when he actually met them? He asked Ruby of her wish and congratulated Aqua on his having come true, that's all he did.

He was there to grant his children's wishes as a parting gift of sorts, that's what's been going on. Because he's the guiding god who can direct people's futures and GRANT WISHES WITH HIS WIFE. He wasn't there for his children physically, but there's mention that he has an eye on Ruby(when he met Yura) and he tells Aqua they share the same eyes, right!! HE'S THE BLACK STAR GOD! AND HE WASN'T ORIGINALLY THAT WAY! HIS EYES USED TO BE WHITE! HE WAS UNSTABLE BECAUSE HE GOT ABUSED, AND HIS NATURE GOT PERMANENTLY TWISTED BECAUSE HE RECEIVED A FATAL FLAW UPON AI'S DEATH! That's what the song Fatal is talking about.

That whole say about him having paternal love is true!! What happened when the twins used/utilized their black star eyes, huh? They did have things work out their way. That's kamiki's power!!! HE HELPED HIS KIDS PURSUE WHAT THEY WANT WITH HIS POWER! I say this a lot, but that's what the whole star eyes are about! The white star eyes are from Ai and the powers of "sending out love", and the black one originates from their dad!! What kamiki tells Aqua in ch 160? that's him going, "I gave you my powers, wasn't it helpful? didn't it feel good?" and Aqua's rejecting him saying "Aw yeah, but you suck and Ruby's going to be different from you" but you know? in the final chapter, doesn't Ruby still USE the black star eyes??? Then it's not exactly always a bad thing??? It's just their parent's powers, that's it!

What Sarutahiko is capable of is directing people's futures, so Aqua abandoned it, leaving him powerless, that's why Kamiki got so shocked. What he said to Aqua about his futures is what Aqua really could have had!! It's words coming from the very god who has to do with futures, so Kamiki knew his son would have had all those things he mentioned, he even smiled at him.

Aqua just. hates his dad so much. I think this is Tsukuyomi's doing tbh

come on, this guy originally had a noble soul, that's something that's put out there as a statement. Ofc he went mad after having lost Ai but this entire story is such a trainwreck... Ai had to be brought back o<-<

Well, that's that,

The author should have explained this all, not I...

I keep talking about this because this keeps bugging me a lot; I hope it doesn't at some point but I feel so bad about how.. this character seemingly seems to be constantly so misunderstood and misjudged by everyone, that's not fair. Even if someone's done wrong, they should only be accused and punished for things they're responsible for. It's just..agonizing to look at;

[flowers-and-dndoc]

Fix It Fic Snippet #3

Thinking through the soft haze of regeneration energy was starting to become more and more of a struggle.  

He’d managed a stop at Belinda’s house, a stop at Ruby’s.  He owed them both proper goodbyes, after what he’d put them through.  Especially Ruby - god, he can’t believe he’d just left her like that all that time ago, I love you lying on the floor of the Tardis between them.  Maybe it’s his impending death, but he can’t quite see why all this time he’d been so scared of those three little words.  

Maybe it was because I love you and goodbye were all he had left to say now, and he doesn’t have long to live with the consequences. 

He leaned against one of the Tardis’s railings, letting himself slowly sink down to the floor as pain shot through him.  He was so, so tired.  It would be easier to give in, to let himself go, let regeneration take its course and carry him into his destiny.   For a moment, gold flickered between his fingers, and he nearly let himself surrender to it.

But then he thought of flames reflected in the most beautiful blue eyes he’d ever seen, and of a message strong enough to break the stronghold the Wish World had on his mind, and he knew he had one more job to do before he could move on.   

[impala-dreamer]

Number One

A Short Story

~After Radio Company's first show, Jensen is flushed with excitement and needs to channel it into something... extra fun...~

Jensen Ackles x Reader

1,387 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Oral and Otherwise. ;) 

A/N: This was a Tell Me About... ask that I went off the rails with. You're welcome ;)

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The adrenaline is rampant; his hair is damp. Jensen’s face is flushed, lips a deep ruby, eyes wild and crazed.

He stinks of sweat and bourbon and his breath is hot. He’s near to panting as he tugs you into an empty room backstage and spins to wrap you in his arms.

“Fuck, Jen- you were amazing!” You beam up at him and he’s as giddy as a child on Christmas morning. “It was so, so good, baby. So good.”

He blushes hard and licks his lips; body still vibrating from the stage.

Both your ears are ringing, but neither of you seems to mind. It was all worth the hearing loss- the show was incredible.

“I was so nervous,” he admits, running a hand back through his long hair. “Did it show? You couldn’t tell could you?”

You could, but he didn’t need to know. “You were so amazing, Jensen,” you say again. “I am so fucking proud of you.”

He exhales deeply, settling down. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Of course. You think I’d miss my favorite band’s very first show?”

A laugh tickles your throat but there’s no space to let it grow. Jensen attacks, pulling you close with a big hand flat between your shoulder blades. He licks at your mouth and you let him in; his kiss is hungry, laced with emotion. You melt against him and he lets out a heavy moan when your tits press into his chest.

“Fuck…” He pulls back, green eyes lidded and reflecting the strips of light pulsing from around the door. “Want you so bad…”

There’s a ton of people outside and in the green room proper. You can hear them milling about in the hallway, congratulating themselves and drinking. The sweet smell of marijuana lingers in the air and you breathe deeply, letting the drugs mingle with Jensen’s faded cologne and fog your mind.

“Yeah?” You reach a hand up to hook around the nape of his neck, let your fingertips dance through the shorter hairs there.

He nods, half gone already with lust and excitement. You can feel him growing in his slacks and you rock your hips forward, rubbing gently. Lightly, you scratch across his scalp and his eyes roll.

“Please…”

Desperation leaks into his voice and your pussy flutters at the sound.

“Makes me so hot when you beg for it, Jen…”

His lips curl into a sleek half smile- he knows. But it’s still true. He wants you, needs you.

Pushing up on your toes, you lick at his bottom lip, tug it snug between your teeth and drink down his raspy moan.

“You’re makin’ me crazy, Y/N/N.”

He reaches for you, ready to snatch the shirt off your back, but you swat him away and give him a hard shove. He stumbles, face dropping in a look of shock.

“Wha-”

You cut him off with another shove to his chest and he lets out a huff when his back hits the wall.

“Oh…”

He smirks and you suck the smile off his plump lips, drag your hands down over the black cotton tee he’s nearly sweated through. His belt is loose already and you take no time whipping it from its place and tossing it aside. His jaw hangs open when your hand slides inside his pants; head falls back against the wall when you trace his cock with one curious finger.

“Baby- please…”

The muscles in his throat tense and you can’t help but push up to taste the salt there. You suck at the magic spot below his ear, lick at his pulse, marvel at the tiny noises he makes.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Jensen,” you whisper, snaking your hand beneath his boxers to wrap around his shaft. “Such a goddamned rock star out there tonight.” You pump your hand slowly down to the base and back and his teeth gnash, lips twitch. “And now that it’s official- I get to be your number one groupie…”

His head drops down and he catches your lips, sucking at the flesh until you’re wrapped around him again, hands traveling up over the big dips of his arms and shoulders. You shove your tongue into him and he hums, tugs at your jeans, jerking you into him.

His lips move down, covering your jaw and settling in the crook of your neck. He takes a tiny bite and your body trembles with desire. He knows every spot to hit. He’s too good, too determined, too… fucking… beautiful.

Again, you push him away, slapping his firm chest with your palm. He sucks back a breath and settles his shoulders against the wall, pops his hips out, spreads his bowed legs just a little bit more than he needs to.

“You’re gonna get it now, big boy,” you tease, nimble fingers undoing the clasp on his slacks and sliding the zipper down.

“Oh yeah?” Jensen grins, eyes you beneath thick lashes, lets the tip of his tongue jutt out across his lip.

He hisses as you yank the fabric down and hook your fingers into the elastic hem of his boxers.

“Oh… yeah.”

Falling to your knees, you drag the silk with you until he’s exposed, hanging long and heavy against his inner thigh. You blow a breath across his velvety flesh and his head slaps back against the wall.

“Fuck.”

His voice is cracking so sweetly when you lick a line down his cock, loop your tongue around the head and suck him between your lips.

“God, Y/N/N…” He jerks his hips, forcing his cock deep into your throat. He drops a hand to the top of your head, curls his fingers in your hair, guiding and holding for dear life on all at once. “Gonna kill me, baby… so fucking good.”

Every swallow makes him hum, each flick of your tongue makes him shudder. Blunt nails dig into your scalp as he gets close and you pick up the pace, drooling around his thick cock.

“Fuck, I gotta fuck you.” He arches his back, pulls away from your buzzing lips. “Please-”

With a devilish smirk, you ignore him and lean in, humming as his snakes back down into the depths of you. You swallow and he howls, grabbing at the sides of your head and pulling you back.

He looks down with a snarl and you know you’re in for it.

“Now.”

His hands are rough and hurried as he jerks you to your feet and turns, shoving you face first into the wall. He scrapes your hair to the side, exposing your throat, and takes a bit, teeth digging in, bruising and claiming.

“Jen-” You struggle to get your jeans undone, fighting against his weight and your fading intellect. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” His palm closes around your breast, squeezing while you wiggle free of the denim and push your ass back for him.

He doesn’t bother waiting until your panties are gone, he simply shoves them to the side and rubs, teasing your clit until you’re dripping down onto his palm.

It doesn’t take long.

One hand on the back of your neck, the other locked around your hip, he bends down and settles in, shoving his cock in with one hard thrust.

The burn is harsh and delicious and you bite your lip shut, stifling a cry.

There are too many ears outside the door and you know for a fact that it’s unlocked.

“God…”

Your body trembles, your cunt throbs around him.

“Fucking hell, girl, you’re gonna make me cum-”

He grits his teeth, scratches a hand down your spine, and lets go; shaking as he empties into you.

The rush is hot, his skin burning against yours. Warmth spills down your thigh when he pulls out and his breath on your cheek is quick, his kiss sweet.

Dizzy and smiling, you turn and reach for him. He folds down to you, lifts you up with a languid kiss.

“You were really amazing,” you whisper, staring into brilliant green eyes.

“So were you,” he jokes, winking somehow with both eyes.

“I mean it. You were great.”

His lips graze your forehead as he sets you down.

"By the way- not a groupie,” he says, tugging up his pants. “But definitely… my number one.”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

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[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Ironwood: Attention Citizens of Atlas: Salem is invading and we cannot stop her. Everyone in mantle please board any private aircraft you have and come to Atlas. If you have no airship, then you are shit out of luck. I hope you die quickly.

Penny: That's not very sensational of that motherfucker.

Penny: I'm sorry Ruby, but to save the Citizens of Mantle and Atlas, You, our friends and family, and Myself will have to execute multiple felonies on top of our preexisting Treason Charges over the course of the next three days with split precision.

Penny: Would that be okay?

Ruby: Why the fuck would that be okay!

Penny: Hey, Language.

Ruby: You said it first!

Penny: I am armed with a dozen Plasma-Rail swords and can vaporize you in under a second.

Ruby: ...

Ruby: Fair enough argument, let's do it.

[bridgyrose]

How’s that bees schnees date go?

When Weiss had heard Blake and Yang wanted to take her ice skating, what she had imagined was that a skating rink would be rented out just for the three of them. Instead, she found herself at a crowded rink, barely able to think to herself with the amount of noise around her, and tying on a pair of rentable ice skates instead of using her semblance like she was used to. Still, it was a date with them and she was willing to see it all the way through. No matter how disastrous things got. 

“You ready yet, Weiss?” Yang asked as she finished walking over with her ice skates. “Blake and I are about to get onto the ice.” 

Weiss nodded and finished tying the laces on her skates as she stood up. “I think I’m ready. I’m not used to wearing skates like this.” 

“I thought you said you’ve been ice skating before.” 

“I have, but its usually just with my semblance and at private rinks.” Weiss took a deep breath and took a few steps forward as she tried to keep her balance. “But this should work the same way.” 

“I can stay close to help you if you need it. Blake’s never been so I’m going to teach her.” 

“I’ll be right behind you guys.” 

“Dont take too long!” 

Weiss nodded and made a few more steps, already starting to wobble even as she tilted the blades in to walk. It was already much different than wearing heels, though that may have been from the skates not quite fitting her feel like she thought they would. Still, she made it to the ice and held to the railing to keep her balance a bit more. She glanced out towards the ice and couldnt help but smile as she watched Yang and Blake. 

Watching Yang help keep Blake supported and balanced on the ice brought a smile to her face. It was different to see her this gentle and caring, though that might have been the fact that Ruby wasnt here to be as competitive as she could with Yang. The longer Weiss watched, the more she wished she was the one being held by Yang like that. 

Weiss shook her head to get the thought out of her mind and made her way onto the ice. Balancing on the ice was just as hard as balancing on solid ground, but as she started to move, she realized it was just like she was using her semblance, though she would’ve preferred to use her semblance. 

She made her way towards Blake and Yang, struggling to stop before hitting them. “How’s Blake handling the ice?” 

“I think I prefer walking,” Blake said as she lost her balance and fell into Yang. “I dont know how any of you can like this.” 

“It come with practice,” Yang said as she helped her back to her feet. “Maybe Weiss can help you.” 

Weiss nodded and took Blake’s hand. “Its easy. Try to take a step as if you’re pushing yourself forward.” 

Blake took a few steady steps as she followed Weiss’s instructions, starting to glide forward. “Like this?” 

“Just like that.” Weiss gently kept hold of Blake’s hand and helped guide her around the ice. “You’re getting the hang of it. Want to try it on your own for a bit?” 

“You’ll stay close in case I fall, right?” 

“Of course.” 

Weiss let go of Blake’s hand and smiled as she followed her around the ice. Despite the noise around her, everything seemed quiet as she stayed close to Blake and Yang, glad she accepted to go on this date. 

Prev

[howlingday]

turns out every member of team rwby had a massive crush on the rusted knight and wanted to date/ be railed by him and even had self insert fanfics about it. now that they know it's jaune how do they try to make their fanfics real?

"What are you drawing, Ruby?"

"A picture of me an the Rusty Knight!" Showing off her crayon portrait of the Rusted Knight, his mount, and herself standing together in a flower field, Ruby's mother cooed at the drawing.

"My, my, what a wonderful drawing!" Summer smiled. "And what are you three doing together?"

"We're on an adventure!"

"Hmhmhm!" Summer chuckled. "You must have really loved that story last night, didn't you?"

"I'mma marry him, and then we'll adventure forever!"

Summer chuckled at her daughter's daydreaming of the fictional hero. Not even six and already dreaming of marriage. She was still so innocent, and Summer hoped that would never change.

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

"Would you like a kiss for your wounds, my lady?"

"No! Because I'm a big girl! Kisses are for babies!"

"Could you kiss me then? After all, only the coolest girls can kiss the coolest dudes."

"Yang, lunch is read-"

Yang slammed her notebook shut, twirling in her seat with a red face and a squeaky voice. "DAAAAAAAAAAD! KNOCK ON MY DOOR!"

"I did knock, sweetie~!"

"NO, YOU DIDN'T!" Yang stamped her feet.

"Sorry, sorry!" Taiyang stepped away. "Lunch is downstairs when you're done doing, er, whatever."

Yang huffed as she jumped off her seat, carefully hiding her notebook under a bunch of arts and crafts material in a drawer. She stamped to the door, looking back at the drawer to make sure it was safe. Nobody could ever know her dark secret.

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

"The Rusted Knight?" Nicholas looked down at his granddaughter. "Of course I've heard of him! In fact, it was his armor that inspired my set!"

Weiss rubbed a tiny hand against the white shirt her grandfather was wearing. It was soft, and underneath was soft, too. He wasn't wearing his armor. He hardly did in his own house.

"Lügner." Weiss softly said, pressing further into his belly.

"Ach!" Nicholas shouted, placing a free hand to his abdomen. " Mein bauch!"

Nicholas fell over to the floor, holding Weiss in the air. She giggled as she stared at his bearded face. Looking at him, he reminded her of the Rusted Knight, and his statements on his modeling after the fairy tale hero would only become more and more true.

"Say, would you like me to read you that story for you?"

Weiss' eyes lit up and she nodded fervously. He chuckled as he swung himself to his feet. Walking to the library, he pulled out the book and was about to read it when a pair of eyes stared at him.

"Come on, Winter. There's enough room for all of us." The older girl hurried over, taking her seat on the other side of their opa. To this day, it remains Weiss and Winter's most cherished of their shared memories.

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

"Thank you for meeting with me, Mister and Misses Belladonna."

Blake sat between her parents, red in the face. To think it would actually come to this. Her parents were going to kill her. Or worse, take away her books.

"Is everything alright?" Mom asked with worry in her voice.

"It is, but... In a recent assignment, Blake was tasked with writing a short story about herself and a fictional character in an interview." The teacher slid the assignment forward. "If you'd like, I can tell you without your reading."

Dad took the paper and gave it a quick read. And by quick read, he shoved it into Mom's hands after reading half a paragraph. Half of him was red with embarrassment and the other green with disgust.

She took the paper and almost immediately responded with, "Oh my!"

"As I'm sure you are both aware, we always encourage creativity in our students, but this..."

"No, no, we understand." Dad said with a burp. "We'll be sure this won't happen again."

The teacher and Dad spoke further on the subject, moreso than Blake EVER cared for. There was a hiss at her side, and she looked to Mom. She was pointing at a word. A very bad, bad, naughty word.

"This is spelled with an i, not an e."

[hyena-woodie]

A collection of notes that I made during ep 1 and 2 of the new season of Doctor who:

Episode one; space babies

- Ruby gets a crash course ‘Doctor who’

- We must know that the doctor is adopted

- Doctor likes scaring babies?

- Even Ruby and the Doctor cannot escape the ‘f-king steam!’ jumpscare (3 times)

- How exactly did Eric picture his victory?

- I don’t care if that thing is one of the babies, kill it with fire

Episode 2; The devil’s chord

-Oohhh Theme Song… Fancy -> Them listening it on the jukebox?? -> meta af

- One day we’ll see the Tardis wardrobe… -> but they slaying

- omg, Ruby pats the Doctor on the back lol

- Ruby is adorably enthusiastic

- Omg Totter’s Lane reference -> it’s 1963, what did I expect O_O

- Gays mention

- Not the old Lady! Not ‘Claire de Lune’!?

- Teleportation via piano, skills

- What the shit. 2024. -> hmmm, the year Eurovision went to shit lol

- Toymaker is a dad, wtf?

- What if you fall over a rail in the Tardis?

- Turkish?

- Music battle slayyy

- Shit is hitting the fan

- Ruby is going through some shit is ep -> the Doctor too by the way

- It rains inside (or does the roof leak heavily?)

Overall, 2 fun episodes :DD still need to get used to their energy together, and the pacing is quickkk sometimes, but they are a lot of fun :)

[ellekhen]

Hand, Hearth, and Home

Chapter 69 - A Hand to Hold

Chapter Summary: As he proves to be a troublesome prey, Church's dream attempts to ensnare him in the sweetest, most poisonous trap. Shadowheart begins her trials for the Gauntlet of Shar. Church meets a beautiful stranger.

Pairing(s): Astarion x Male Tav (Main); Past OC x Male Tav Rating: Explicit Length: 358K+ words; Chapters 69/?? (Master Post)

Excerpt below:

The sun has gone down by the time Church makes it back into the city, but lights cast the roads in warm, flickering light. It is still early enough in the evening that the streets continue to bustle with crowds, especially with a festival in the square.

On stage, Church spots his friend — the bard D’vana — as resplendent as ever as she performs and dances beneath the glittering lights of her cantrips. Her music floats through the city long before he sees her.

He is tempted to take a pause and watch, drinking in the sweet, lilting music… but he needs to focus. Amid these crowds, his heart looks for one person. There are a myriad of humanoids with white and silver hair of all textures and lengths — it would be impossible to spot just one from here on the ground level.

And so Church makes his way into one of the taverns, weaving through the patrons as he ascends the staircases to reach the balcony overlooking the square. There are customers milling about out here, drinking and making merry beneath the stars.

Church slumps against the railing, breathing in the night air that tastes of spilled ale and smoke.

It all smells so… real.  

He must be going mad. Did he panic after Tavi asked him to move in with him? Is he just overwhelmed by… everything about that?

Has he been writing so long that he can no longer tell the difference between fact and fiction?

“Well hello there, stranger.”

Church’s heart pounds in his chest as he summons the courage to turn towards that voice. 

“Do I… know you?” the tiefling asks, even though in his heart…

You have been looking for him for some time.

“Perhaps not,” the elf drawls, stroking an elegant hand along the railing as he draws closer to the tiefling. “But I know your face. How could I forget a face like yours, even in a crowded place like this?”

Church stares and stares at him. He’s familiar, but so alien and strange as he tries to connect the dots in his mind. The links shatter every time.

“What’s your name, sweet thing?” the elf purrs, leaning in with heavy eyes — red like rubies in the lantern light. 

“I’m… Church,” the tiefling manages to say.

“Well,” the elf chuckles. “I can’t say I’ve heard a name like yours before. I’m…”

“...Astarion,” Church breathes, and gods, his head hurts but the hurt is good. The hurt is right.

How did he forget Astarion?

How could he forget Astarion?

The elf’s confident smile twitches into a momentary frown before carefully composing itself again.

“Ah, well… no,” he titters. “My name is… Petras, actually…”

“Astarion,” Church repeats, his eyes wide as he drinks in the sight of the apprehensive elf. “Gods… how could I…?”

Astarion’s mouth twitches into a small grimace as he pulls away. “You must have confused me for someone else.”

“Astarion!” Church repeats, grasping hold of the elf’s hand before it can leave his side. The elf looks at him with alarm, rage, and… fear? “Don’t you remember me?” 

Astarion levels a cold gaze upon him.

And then it softens.

“Of… of course I remember you… Church,” the elf coos. “It’s been too long, hasn’t it?”

He presses himself up against Church’s body, whispering into his ear.

“How about we go somewhere a bit quieter to catch up?”

[mxrp-official-steve]

Your monthly MxRP dev update: Coming Soon(TM) Edition.

You guys hear that? It's a heartbeat.

(Description: An image of the freshly restyled MxRP frontpage, complete with a popup in the middle reading "Signed in successfully")

The issues surrounding the database HAVE BEEN SOLVED circa last week, and Hex has officially gotten the database, including accounts and their associated logs, working on Ruby on Rails. This choice was made because it dramatically speeds up dev- this is the framework CheRPs upcoming Cardinal update uses, allowing Hex to adapt features from there (realtime chatting, accounts with tied chatlogs, notifications, etc) and change them as need be, because it's a framework that they're skilled and familiar with, making any needed retools and reworks easier.

So, what you're probably wondering here is this: "Steve! If this speeds dev up that much, does that mean the Beta is soon???"

To this, I answer: YYYYEEEEAAAAHHHHHHH BABY!! We're currently on track to be Beta-ready sometime this December.

This is an estimate, of course, and the beta could very well be ready before then- if it is, I'll be making a post here, on the Patreon, and on the discord server in short order of each other. Thank you all so much for sticking around through all this development time. It's been arduous. But we're closer than ever!! Keep your eyes peeled, folks. And get ready for MxRP-chan to come out of surgery stronger than ever.

(One more thing before i go btw)

(Description: A video of the MxRP2 beta homescreen slowly changing basic theme colors by clicking on the top-right dropdown box, followed by Hex logging in successfully through the Log In prompt)

[echoesoflila]

RP Sample - Ruby Sunday

Ruby fidgeted with the TARDIS console, her fingers running over the buttons and levers she was still learning to understand. "You know," she said, looking over at the Doctor, "for something that's supposed to travel through time and space, you'd think this old box would come with an instruction manual." She flashed a grin, though a part of her was a bit nervous. It had only been a few weeks since she'd started this mad journey, and while she loved every minute of it, the unpredictability still made her heart race.

The Doctor, of course, was completely unfazed, flipping switches with that usual burst of chaotic energy. “Where’s the fun in manuals? Just push a button and hope for the best!”

Ruby snorted, leaning back against the railing. "Right, because nothing says ‘good plan’ like winging it through a black hole." Still, as the TARDIS rumbled to life, Ruby couldn’t help but feel a sense of exhilaration. Every trip was a chance to see something new, and despite her sarcastic banter, she wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

[katiecollinns112]

The Blood of The Dragon Runs Thick

Chapter One: And The Dragons Roared as One 

Rhaenyra had been full of nerves since her maids had awoken her at the first sighting of the sun’s rays. Today was her wedding day, the day that she would be marrying her half-brother, Aegon. She wasn’t dreading it, no she had long accepted her fate when it came to Aegon. Surprisingly, they had come to enjoy one another’s company and many within the court claimed that marital love would come quickly and naturally when they moved to Rhaenyra’s seat at Dragonstone. Since Rhaenyra was named Visery’s heir, Aegon had been eternally grateful to her. He had been vocal that he was not suited to rule and that he had no desire to usurp his sister from what he called her birthright. Many jested that Aegon should have been born the daughter and Rhaenyra the son. The only one who did not approve of their union was the Queen, Alicent Hightower. She had railed and screamed for days when Viserys and her father Otto had publicly announced their betrothal. She had hated Rhaenyra ever since she was forced to marry the King. She could not understand that Alicent had not been given any chance to say no to her father’s plans, that she had no say in the matter. So when Rhaenyra shunned her, Alicent blackened her heart toward her childhood friend.

“Come, Your Highness, your braids are finished, it is time to put on your wedding gown and cloak,” one of her handmaidens spoke softly as she nudged her to look towards the large mirror they had set in her chambers.

She had chosen her braids to be rendered after Visenya’s preferred style. They were stacked atop her head, with rubies and black diamonds nestled throughout her hair. As she was admiring herself, they brought out her wedding gown. Rhaenyra had been extremely particular with the commission of her dress. It was blood red, which of course, was the color of House Targaryen, with glimmering threads of black and silver stitched into images of dragons breathing fire. But the piece that was the most magnificent was the golden dragon stitched down the back of the gown. She had ordered the dressmakers to stitch a perfect replica of her brother’s dragon, Sunfyre, as a way to include her betrothed and to perhaps give him a slight surprise. Sunfyre was Aegon’s pride and joy. Since he was a hatchling he had been deemed by the smallfolk as “Sunfyre the Golden” and “Sunfyre the Beautiful”. She knew that this would bring him joy to see it upon her back. So, she had it commissioned and kept rejecting it until she thought it was perfect, and looking upon it now, she knew that it could not be more perfect or beautiful. It was truly a work of art.

After she was laced up and her black bridal cloak with the sigil of the three-headed dragon was blue, which was the color of her mother’s house, House Arryn placed upon her back, there was only half an hour left before she needed to be at the Sept. Quickly she was ushered out of the castle and into a large carriage. As she made her way to the ceremony, she let the smallfolk look upon her. They were screaming and throwing flowers at the carriage. She was completely breathless, they had not been this loud even when the birth of Aegon was announced. This was pure adoration, bordering on fanaticism. This is what it meant to be a Targaryen. Loved by the masses but also feared. Finally, they had arrived and the nerves in Rhaenyra’s stomach began to twist with a new fervor. This was it, she thought to herself, the day that had been planned since the day of Aegon’s birth.

“My Lady.” Ser Harold Westerling acknowledged her with a small smile as he opened her door. Slowly, she eased herself out of the carriage and made her way to the gigantic doors of the Sept. As soon as she stood in front of them, they swung open. Stepping through the threshold, the murmurings of the nobility attending were immediately silenced but the noise was not what she noticed. At the end of the aisle was Aegon. He was regal in his black wedding robes and on his hip she noticed the Targaryen’s ancestral sword, Blackfyre. She was no small amount shocked, for their father was quite possessive of the weapon but he must have thought that today of all days it should be allowed a different bearer. She was so swallowed up in staring at Aegon that she barely heard the announcement of her name, “Her Royal Highness, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone!” As soon as the announcement was over, quiet music began to play and Rhaenyra knew that she was meant to walk but it took her a moment to set herself in motion. It felt like years before she finally was at the base of the steps and standing beside Aegon. She had yet to make eye contact with him. She feared that if she did she would lose her composure but she was looking at him from the corner of her eye. He truly did look like a painting of Aegon the Conqueror come to life, especially with his hammered steel circlet sitting atop his brow. Finally, she grew the nerve to turn and look at him fully. He took her breath away. She might have been dubbed “The Realm’s Delight” but he was truly more deserving of the title. His face was perfect and his hair, which now brushed his shoulders, was like spun moonlight. The only thing that marred his beauty and gave away his nervousness was his eyes. They were normally a pale lilac, different from her deep amethyst hue, but today they were rimmed in red. This was one of his few tells that he had not slept any the night before. But as she looked at him, he was also looking at her. He had never seen anyone more ethereal than Rhaenyra and he was still amazed that she was his, she with enough beauty that could even tempt a god to steal her away and make their own. The Septon interrupted their thoughts by raising his hands in the air to let everyone know that the ceremony was about to begin. Aegon smiled and gave Rhaenyra a wink before they turned to face the Septon.

“We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, one flame, now and forever.” “Let it be known that Rhaenyra Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone, and Prince Aegon Targaryen are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

He gestured towards them to bring their hands in front of him as he took out a blade of shining black Dragonglass. In two quick movements, he sliced their palms and tied them together with a red cloth. With another gesture, their father strode over to them with two attendants and carefully removed her bridal cloak and replaced it with Aegon’s cloak with their traditional house colors.

Aegon and Rhaenyra locked eyes and gave one another a smile. The day was far from over but the most tedious part was. They now, before the eyes of gods and men, belonged to one another and nothing would stand in their way. So very slowly, they leaned in and as soon as they let their lips touch, all the dragons roared as one, shaking the very foundations of the Sept.

[howlingday]

Appreciation ask in your inbox now

I just have to say. I really love your work and all your aus . I always love it when you write more details in each au. I may like Jaune very much, but I still how you write other characters as well. You gave us details for all of the RWBY cast a pokemon and wrote small background, personality, relationship details for them.

Thank you, I really enjoy your writing.

Oh, why thank you. I appreciate your appreciation.

I'll admit that not all of my works are winners, but I try to see it as a sort of trial-and-error system. If it works, it works, and if people ask for more, I try to give them more. If it flops, I try to avoid making the same mistake again. And, of course, writing is only one half of writing, because you also have to read to learn from others. Heck, sometimes I'll reread my own works to figure out what I could do to improve!

Part of the reason I write Jaune, Ruby, their teams, their allies, their enemies and so on is because I got a critique in one of my works that the way I wrote everyone in it was so out of character. The only praise I got in the story was "writing Nora good" but it was a back-handed compliment because they added "but it's hard to write Nora wrong". That being said, I try to make characters as accurate as I can because I saw a lot of, and still see a lot of, "Harem King Jaune" fics. Don't get me wrong, it's fun to write the good guy getting the girl (or multiple girls because everyone deserves some love), but when it gets to the point that the character you're writing comes off as a pathetic, selfish tool who sees women as objects, then you've gone off the rails on your crazy train, alright?

Alright, let me get down from my soapbox now and finish this by saying that writing is a skill, and like every skill ever, it's going to take a lot of practice to get right. Start small. Do a bit from your favorite show/game and recreate it with your favorite characters. Soon enough, you'll pick up what makes good writing and, before you know it, you're writing 10+ chapter stories with their own points of intrigue.

Keep reading, keep writing, and always

KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK!