#i'm fucking obsessed with it. the character dynamics. what the fuck is going on

[phyrestartr]

Icarus Drabbles (Pt.3) | Sukuna x M!Reader

W/C: 3k #NSFW, Modern AU, ABO dynamics, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, blowies are received and given, mentions of character death

tags: @kamote-kuneho @prettorett @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @tr4nniez

Done Deal

“You let me fuck you, and I'll give you anything you want.” That was his proposition. No more flirting, no more attempts to seduce you, just his obsessive pining resulting in a deal. 

But you didn't seem too bothered sitting across the desk from none other than Ryoumen Sukuna, who lounged comfortably, puffing on a cigar like he didn't just offer to pay you for sex. Granted, it wasn't just the sex he wanted. It was more than that. 

You took a moment before speaking. “I thought you were the kind of guy who'd take without asking.” 

“Who, me? Come on, sweetheart, I'm a gentleman.” Sukuna grinned and watched you wave the coils of smoke out of your face. 

You looked him over, not betraying your thoughts. “And if I refuse?” 

Sukuna's smile simmered down, unamused with the mere concept of rejection. “I'll still get what I want. And you'll leave here penniless.” His men locked the doors loudly at the other end of the vast office, making their point. “So? What’ll it be?” 

You took a slow breath. “I want a condo. In Tokyo.” 

“That's it?” 

“Paid in full.” 

“Now you’re talkin'.” 

You stood from your chair and walked around the desk as you unzipped your jacket. “And my name's going on title.” 

Sukuna undressed you with his eyes like the millions of times he'd done so prior. “Ho? You wanna be the one to pay all the taxes, huh?” He turned his chair to you as you approached. Sukuna spread his legs wider to make room for you to stand between, but you instead boldly straddled his lap. He knew he liked you for a reason. 

“I can forward them to you.”

“You think I'll pay them?” One of his broad palms groped at your ass. His stomach coiled with excitement; he was going to enjoy ripping you apart. 

“I know you will,” you hummed. Sweetly, you tilted Sukuna's chin up to get a good look at his handsome face. 

“Oh?” 

“Mhm.”

“‘N why's that?” Sukuna whispered. 

“Because you want to.” Your hands slipped down his neck, down to his shoulders. “Because you think I'll come back for more.”

“I know you'll come back for more.” 

“If you live long enough,” you sighed before plucking the cigar from his fingers and snuffing it out. “These things'll kill you, you know.” 

Sukuna fucked you on his desk moments after. His men stayed in the room all the while, watching and shifting with unease or simmering urges of his own. He vaguely recalled taking a phone call, too. 

So how the hell did we end up here? He had to wonder; back then, he bribed you for your affection, paid you handsomely but purposefully left you wanting more and more and more. He wanted to provide for you, in a weird, twisted way, and that was his method since, well, he wasn't ever sure he'd really get you to stay. 

Yet there he was, waking up in a house with his husband next to him and his daughter in the crib beside you. It felt so…bizarrely natural. Normal. Almost like he met a need he didn't even know he had. 

He hardly spent his nights at his casino, Malevolent Shrine, any longer. He didn't wander the floors looking for liars and easy targets for his dealers. He didn't head up to his penthouse at the crack of dawn with a new dame on his arm every night; he wanted to come here, to the home he had built to house his new family. Sukuna wanted to collapse into this bed, hear you bitch and moan about Gojo or Geto or whatever idiot employed you that day, spend time with his little pup and listen to her yip and babble about nothing and everything. He wanted these moments. He wanted to cherish the little sparks of light in his life before the universe snuffed them out like– 

Gramps is dead, Yuuji had said, voice quivering on the other end of the line. What do we do? 

Sukuna closed his eyes and rubbed his face, willing away the memory. He hadn't had to act like a big brother in so long, but the instinct came rushing back to him the second he heard his little brother in tears. It was all handled swiftly, everything from the cremation, to probate, to settling the estate–but the weight of death and finality clung to the air like petrichor after a storm. 

Sukuna looked to your sleeping face for respite. It helped to see you, to be reminded that you'd chosen to stay with him through thick and thin. Still, he couldn't help but remember what his grandfather asked him the day he met Touka. 

Where does this end, kid? 

This. The gang life. The life that's too unrefined and brutal to be considered yakuza. Because Sukuna didn't deal in honour. He dealt in violence, drugs and money–that voice spoke louder than honour and family. 

But didn't he reclaim his family? Didn't he honour you with change? 

Where does this end, kid?

Maybe with honour and family. 

“I can feel you having a crisis,” your scratchy voice mumbled through the static in Sukuna's mind. Your eyes opened a crack to find his own crimson set before you wriggled up to him and half-laid on his chest. “What's wrong?”

“Your bony-ass chin’s digging into my tit.” 

“Mmmh.” 

“You like money more, or me?” He asked. 

You snorted. “I like you and your money equally.” You let your head loll to the side to press your cheek against his chest. “But I like you more, I guess.” 

“You guess?” 

“I'm kidding, idiot. If I cared about money, I would've married into the Zenin family.” You sat up and looked down at your partner with bleary eyes. “Where's this coming from anyway?”

Sukuna huffed and scowled at the ceiling. “Nowhere. It's nothing. Forget it.” 

“Don't be a little bitch. Just tell me.” And when he didn't budge, you added, “Suku. Come on.” And when he still refused to cooperate, you resorted to, “Alpha, please?” 

His eyes snapped to you so fucking fast it made his face burst into flames. You grinned, so stupidly enthralled and in love with how the gross, domestic pet name fucked him up and--fucking hell, it was so cute but so annoying. 

“Fuck you.” 

“N'awe, you're such a cutie sometimes.” You purred in delight and nuzzled all over his face. “My cute, sweet, broody alpha that I love so, so, so much.” 

“Shut up,” he snarled before viciously nuzzling back and attacking you with puppy nips and rude licks to your face. “Fucking omega. You're such a pain in the ass, you know that?” 

“So are you. That's why we work well together, right?” You held his face still and planted a proper kiss on his lips. “We'll be fine. No matter what happens.” 

Your alpha took a deep breath while he looked up at you, and sighed. You looked so calm and collected about the whole thing, so relaxed in the jaws of a shark that could eat you whole and leave nothing behind. Guess that was why he was so enamored with you. Only petty things, like the shitty little fish that nipped at toes, wore you down. Not the big, bad, unknown depths of the ocean. 

“You believe me?” You asked as you pinched his nose. 

Sukuna grimaced and tugged your hand away from his nose. “Fuckin’–yeah, I believe you.” He bit your fingers in revenge. 

It was your turn to make a face. “Disgusting.” 

“You wuv id,” Sukuna managed around your digits, grinning like an idiot. 

“I have bad taste in men.” You yanked your fingers free when you heard your little one coo and shuffle in her crib. Sukuna always found himself impressed with how fast your omega responded to the littlest of noises, always automatically cooing and trilling back to your baby like you'd done it your whole life. 

“But you sure you're alright?” You asked as you scooped up the little one. 

Sukuna sat up and leaned back against the headboard as you settled down beside him again. “‘M fine. Just…thinking.” 

“About your grandfather?” 

“Guess so.” 

You nodded and leaned into him, chest purring with comfortable vibrato as his heavy arm looped around you and pulled you close. 

“He was a good man. Lived a good life. Long one, too.” 

“Guess you’re not wrong. Don’t seem too torn up about it,” Sukuna grumbled, vaguely aware he was on the precipice of starting an early-morning argument. 

“People die,” you said, looking down at your babe. “He was old as fuck. I’d talked to him about life and death a thousand times anyway. His point of view on things helped me see things differently.”

“Oh?” Sukuna’s attention snapped down to your little one as her cherry-red eyes sleepily blinked open. “‘N what the hell did the old fart tell you, huh?” 

You smiled as Touka screeched happily, reaching up for her father and wiggling around in your lap until she could slug her way over to him (with much help from your guiding hands, of course). Sukuna, the fraidy cat that he was, awkwardly tried to aid his baby girl with crawling onto his lap, too. You kind of understood why–his hand was about as big as her body. He was probably afraid of smooshing her. 

“He told me energy can never be destroyed. It can only change shape and form. It’s the same with our souls.” 

“The fuck does that mean?” Sukuna grumbled as his daughter determinedly tried to stand to reach his face. You moved to help her stand, but he huffed and took over, uttering a grumpy ‘I got it’ as he carefully, carefully held her up onto her feet like one would a kitten. 

You smiled, so horribly smitten. “It means our bodies die, but our spirits can’t. They just change form before coming back and living life all over again.” 

“Hmph. Sounds stupid as–” Sukuna paused as a tiny hand landed on his mouth. 

“Bah!” Touka chirped. 

You pursed your lips and melted into your partner, a happy, summer scent pooling around the three of you. 

“Mhm, daddy’s a cranky little bitch, huh, baby?” 

“Big bitch,” Sukuna corrected, words muffled by the tiny overlord. He opened his mouth wide, lightly chomping on her pudgy little hand with the gentlest pibble nibbles he could manage. Judging by her squealing laughter, he was doing an okay job.

“Cranky big bitch–my bad.” You rolled your eyes and exhaled deeply. “But yeah, that’s basically it. Mentioned some stuff about soulmates–platonic or romantic or otherwise–tending to find each other in their next lives too. So, technically, you could be holding your grandfather reincarnated right now–”

“Babe, don’t make this fucking weird,” Your husband groaned. 

You laughed, loud and brash, before nuzzling him. “Sorry, sorry. Can’t help myself.” 

Sukuna scoffed, furrowed brow only easing as Touka assaulted him with little pats all over his face. 

“You’re a nightmare.” He leaned in and nuzzled his baby’s round cheeks with playful growls. “You’re a smaller fucking nightmare. Spitting image of your mum. How the fuck is that fair, huh?” 

“Well, you better get used to it,” you taunted. “She’s the only one you’re getting.”

Wait. What?

--

Devour

It’d been a while since Sukuna had handled an interrogation. He’d stepped away from doing it himself when you’d both gotten back together officially, thinking you’d be upset if you found out he was still beating the fuck out of rats and cheats wandering through his casino–but the opposite turned out to be true. 

You didn’t really care. You didn’t mind it at all, actually. You only requested he kept that sort of business away from the curious gaze of the little girl you both doted on incessantly. 

So, he took it to the basement of Malevolent Shrine. 

“Y'know, I really needed this,” Sukuna sighed, loosening his tie a bit more before he leaned against the table of lethal instruments and wiped the blood from his split knuckles. “Kid keeps me up all night. Wife's always bitching ‘bout being tired. ‘N then I got dipshits like you sneaking in, trying to access restricted floors.” 

The man he regarded scoffed, probably unable to catch his breath to clap back or, well, breathe. The sight had Sukuna grinning, pure delight and satisfaction coiling in his chest. 

“Got somethin’ to say?” 

The man coughed and tried to pull himself up from where he lay splayed on the floor. Sukuna never tied up his guests, no no, he always gave them a fair, fighting chance, stating they could go free if they could get past him. None ever did. 

“Y-you do this to that omega you stole?” The stranger managed as soon as he got on his knees. “Lock ‘im in a room, make them fight their way out?” 

Sukuna quirked a brow and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Only omega I've had in here is the wife.” 

“Bullshit,” he spat. “You stole one that was sold to my benefactor.” 

The mob boss sighed and scratched the back of his head. “That's what you're here for? An omega that I never had?” Sukuna pushed off the table. “Well, that makes shit boring. You're here on a delusion.” 

“It's not–”

“Then who do you work for?” 

As expected, the idiot clammed up. Sukuna tutted. Why did all these bastards have to play hard to get? 

Ah, but then he had an epiphany--hadn't you mentioned marrying into the Zenin family? You brought it up not too long ago, back when Sukuna first started spiraling about life and death, about where his world of chaos would take him in the end. 

If I cared about money, I would've married into the Zenin family. 

Right. That's what you said. 

“Zenin Naoya,” Sukuna guessed. The heir was a rampant misogynistic piece of shit, wanting nothing to do with women on any level--but you? A man who could bear children, albeit through difficult means? That'd be invaluable to someone like Naoya. He could have his cake and eat it too. 

And by the way the crook's body tensed, Sukuna figured he hit the nail on the head. 

“No shit. That little freak’s really outdoing himself this time.” Sukuna laughed wildly, enthralled that he managed to piss off the Zenin heir by taking his bitch and knocking him up. God, the damage this would do to Naoya's ego.

“I'll let ya in on a little secret,” Sukuna sang, turning to the table and grabbing a set of pliers. “I wifed up that omega. Knocked him up already. Hopin’ he'll let up on the ‘one pup only’ policy. He's been real fuckin’ strict on the birth control, lemme tell ya.” 

“He won't forgive this,” the crook bit out. “He won't just–” 

Thwack. Sukuna cracked him upside the head and knelt on his chest, jamming the tool into his mouth and breaking a few teeth on the way in. 

“Fucker can try,” Sukuna murmured, voice growing thick with malice. His ruby eyes gleamed with predatory promise. “Killing him's at the top of my bucket list.” 

–

You were definitely possessed. 

How could you not be? You'd just seen your baby daddy (your very cut, handsome, snarky baby daddy) beat the shit out of one of your tormentor's grunts 

“Babe,” Sukuna moaned as you swallowed him down your throat again. You'd taken him hostage in the elevator the second he was done his deeds downstairs. It proved to be…somewhat problematic as people continued to open the doors, but eventually Sukuna hit the emergency stop button, nearly shattering the console. 

You hummed around him, pressing your tongue against thick, pulsing veins and squeezing at his base and sacks intermittently while your head bobbed to the beat of whatever tinny jazz played in the elevator. You kind of liked the tune. It sparked the idea of playing music next time Sukuna bedded you–

Bedded you. Ah. That seemed like a good next step. 

You pulled back with a disgusting pop and fought to catch your breath between leaving wet kisses and hickeys along his stiff length. Your hand worked him firm and fast, eager to get him to fall apart under your feverish, hypnotic touch. 

And he was close. You could tell by the way his hand held the back of your head, fingernails digging into your scalp every time you did something so, so right and so, so unbelievably good for the big bad mob boss you'd tricked into staying faithful to you. You figured you'd reward him for being such a good boy. It's what he deserved for sacrificing his freedom for you, and, quite frankly, you thought you'd been slacking on the praise. 

“Gonna cum?” You hummed, looking up at your partner through wet lashes. “Hm?”

Sukuna groaned. His fangs bit into his lip as he stared down at you, pupils blown wide, eclipsing the red of his iris. 

You smiled politely. “Mmh. I'll take that as a yes.” You kissed along his skin until reaching his weeping tip and giving it a gentle peck. “Where do you want it? On my face? In my mouth? Down my throat?” 

He bucked forward, jamming his tip between your lips and hissing when he felt the scratch of teeth against him. You sighed like he was such a nuisance, and opened up wide again, whining as he gripped your hair up into a messy, shitty ponytail before fucking into your mouth with reckless abandon. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck–” His body shuddered and he slammed inside one more time, squeezing his thick knot into your strained mouth and locking it behind your teeth as he rutted against your face, spilling down your throat. 

Your soft gags and chokes only made it better. He pulled your head closer, pressing your cute nose against the hazy line of his happy trail in a dizzy attempt to ground himself through the aftershocks of such a sudden turn of events. Going from beating the shit out of a sniveling sod to this was–

Your frantic smacking against his arm signaled your tap out. Sukuna cursed under his breath and worked in tandem with you to wiggle free the stiff problem stuffing your mouth and throat full. 

You gasped for breath. Drool and tears poured down your face as you coughed and swallowed whatever didn't have the chance to slip out of your aching mouth, and you wiped your mouth half-heartedly with the back of your hand. Sukuna hadn't seen a sight like that in a long, long while. Something so reminiscent of the early days of being bribed and paid for your services. 

“Christ,” Sukuna breathed as he brushed your hair out of your pretty face. “How much do I owe ya for that, huh?” 

You laughed between coughs before kissing his clothed thigh. “Just don't think I've appreciated you enough lately, you know?” You cleaned him up best you could before tucking your man away and standing to loop your arms around his shoulders. 

Sukuna caught your scent then; you smelled sweeter than usual. Warmer, too. Fuller. Something that reminded him of dough in the oven, billowing all around him and filling his senses with sinful sweetness. 

Your heat was on the horizon.

Sukuna smirked and switched the key holding the elevator closed and inoperable on the ground floor, and it started on its journey up, up, up. Time to get you back in bed. 

“Not appreciatin’ me enough, huh. Well, I was gonna mention it–” 

“Shut up. Don't be stupid right now.” 

Sukuna's grin grew. He leaned down, leaving soft kisses and nips along your neck, being sure to pay special attention to the scars he'd left behind. 

“You love when I talk shit.”

“You're free to believe that.”

“Oh? Then tell me what you've been appreciating about me, sweetheart. I'm all ears.” 

The doors opened to the penthouse floor, and you fought to drag the other out first.

“Your ass,” you replied, nearly exploding inside as Sukuna kicked the (unlocked) door in. Damn, how come he could do that so easily? 

“What else?” Sukuna's lips found yours time after time as you both fumbled your way toward the bedroom. 

You yelped as he threw you onto the bed. “J-Jesus–how strong you are.” 

“Yeah?” Sukuna kicked his dress shoes off and yanked your kicks off, too, before you had a chance to complain about shoes being on in the house. “Tell me more.”

“That's about it.” A sweet laugh bubbled out of you as he slipped in between your legs and kissed you like this was some highschool romcom.

“Oh? Lying now, aren't we?” 

“I think I need to examine you a little to remember, you know?” 

With all the strength you could muster, you turned the tables and flipped Sukuna onto his back, straddling his waist and running your hands up and down his chest. He still couldn't tell how you did it, but you flicked open every button of his dress shirt with unfathomable finesse before tracing the dips and curves of his defined muscles with teasing fingertips. 

“Hmmm…this is nice,” you murmured, taking your time to drink in the scar-riddled expanse of glowing, bronze skin. You scooted back, down his legs, to be able to plant soft kisses around his navel. 

Sukuna watched you with blown-out eyes; you were always good at teasing, at making sex electric and better than just cramming his cock into a hole. Secretly, he liked being pushed to the brink of insanity. Soft touches, whispered kisses, silent praise–it was all so your brand.

“What else?” Sukuna rasped as you left cheeky marks around his happy trail. 

“Hm. I wonder.” You took your time sidling up on his lap again, your hands taking charge and leading you up, up, up to his cut jawline and striking cheekbones. “This is nice, too.”

Sukuna licked his lips. “Yeah?” He Asked as he held your waist. 

“Mhm.” Your thumb stroked against his bottom lip thoughtfully before hooking inside and yanking his mouth open like a fish on a line. “This is a problem, though.” 

Your mate's heart thrummed like thunder. Rarely would he ever admit to liking being used, but when it came to you, his precious little trophy, Sukuna found himself far too eager to please. Too eager to consume. Too eager to be consumed. He could only hope you'd wreck him with whatever you wanted to do with that mouth of his. 

“Oh?” Sukuna breathed. Christ, his slacks were too fucking tight again. “The fuck you gonna do about it?” 

You sighed and shook your head. “God's work, I guess.” And you almost seemed burdened by what you ‘had to do’ as you loosened your waistband and wriggled up until you were straddling his broad chest with your weeping tip pressing against his lips. 

Sukuna grinned. “You think I'm gonna–” but he was more prepared for your rude push into his mouth than he let on–or he thought he was, anyway. He'd never really given head before, not really, but he'd given you a couple of handjobs in the past. Still, you were bigger than he remembered. Not as comically, ridiculously, stupidly big as Sukuna’s third leg, but you could probably stuff someone to the point of tears if you really felt the need. 

And, well, you were leaving tears in Sukuna's eyes, so theory confirmed.

“You're really bad at this,” you laughed. You held onto the headboard as you pushed into his mouth, letting him get used to it and adjust as a good mate should (maybe Sukuna should've taken notes). Thankfully, the man was a quick learner and a keener. He got used to the feeling of your length nudging against his throat, and posed himself a challenge to push it further. 

His hand grabbed at your ass and he pulled you closer, drowning in the sound of your warbled gasp mixing with a surprised yelp. Sukuna's other hand brute-forced his slacks open and fisted around his pulsing hard-on to the rhythm of your greedy thrusts into his mouth, down his tight, inexperienced throat. 

Your hips jolted and stuttered. Your hips stayed plastered to his face with weaker and weaker thrusts. Your forehead clunked against the rim of the headboard as your breathing got faster and faster, laced with tiny ah-ah-ah-s until–until–

“Shit–” you tried to pull away from him, tried to save him the grief of having to swallow down a load of cum (first time was always a terrible, terrible experience), but he wouldn't let you yank your hips away; his broad palm pressed against the small of your back and forced you flush against him, his nose pressing against skin as he swallowed and moaned around you like he'd been deepthroating cock his whole career. 

Somewhere in the haze of lightning and sparks, you felt him shudder and jolt under you, too. Then, like you'd done not so long ago, a swift tapping on your leg signaling, tap out, tap out! 

“Oh–fuck, sorry,” you babbled, hurriedly pulling yourself back and out of his mouth to let him breathe. “You're kind of a natural. I'm shocked.”

Sukuna was too busy coughing and fighting to catch his breath to snap back at you, though, and you couldn't help but laugh. 

“Shut it,” he scolded with a swift spank. “Spunk tastes like shit.” 

“But you’re not a spitter nor a quitter. You should be proud.” You smiled like the cheeky little shit you were before shimmying off your joggers and tossing them aside. “You did pretty well. Colour me impressed.”

“‘Course I did, who the fuck do you think I am?” He brought his other hand out of his pants and held them up to you, sticky with his own spend. “Deal with this.”

You whistled, and the heat in your face increased tenfold. “I guess you liked it. Good to know,” you said before holding his hand by the wrist and licking up.

“I'd be a freak if I didn't wanna make my bitch cum. ‘Specially when he's in heat ‘n primed to reopen the baby-making factory.” 

You looked at him, eyes round and owlish, before abandoning the mess on his hand in favour of kissing him. 

“The factory's open,” you assured, no doubt temporarily hypnotized by your body's desire to make your stupid alpha happy.

Sukuna rumbled a purr deep in his chest as he smirked. He'd gladly seize the moment.

“Let’s clock in and get to work, then.” 

–

Five is Better Than Three

Sukuna paced back and forth outside the bathroom door, impatient and anxious, waiting for you to just fucking tell me what the hell the deal was.

But Sukuna was anything but a patient man.

“Babe,” he growled, knocking on the door incessantly. “How long does It take to piss on a stick?” 

You scoffed. “I'm just--I'm trying to double check, you dumb bitch, shut up.” Your voice quivered the slightest bit, a soft sniffle or two barely making it above the radar. 

Sukuna sucked his teeth. He ran his hands through his hair and growled to himself, trying trying trying to stay patient, stay calm, stay–

“Sukuna,” you snapped when the door flung open. You were standing at the counter, an array of different pregnancy tests laid out before you neatly with you lording over them, face hot and eyes shimmering with…grief? Relief? Happiness? Sukuna didn't know, he didn't know. 

“Kept me waiting long enough, you fucking brat,” he came up behind you and stared down, clearing your noggin with ease and ignoring your grouchy quips and pinches. 

“I was–I just needed a minute, you stupid fuck, I'm--it's a lot!” You tried to push him away but, well, the man was an immovable object, and you were far from an unstoppable force. In the realm of physicality, at least. 

“Sukuna–” 

“This shit is like hieroglyphics,” he complained, picking up a test and squinting at it. His other hand held your waist to stop you from running away to hide. 

“It, uh. It means–well, I still need to get checked out officially but, uh, y'know. It's a yes. For now. Tentatively. All the tests are positive.” 

Sukuna exploded with happy puppy scent. He threw down the test and wrapped his arms around you, picking your smaller form up and swinging you around like a shotty romcom man should. 

And you laughed through your tears. You hugged him back once he put you down, and exploded into choked laugh-sobs as you pressed your face into his chest. His nice, strong, muscular chest that looked so good in that black tank top. 

“Oi, oi, what're the damn waterworks for, huh?” Sukuna asked through a wolfish grin. 

“I don't know, okay, just shut up.” You snuffled a few more times before sighing. “Maybe I'm just relieved that an old man like you still has a sperm count.”

“Hah. Big talk from a whore usin’ birth control and making me use a fucking condom ‘just in case.’” He nuzzled at your neck and purred deep in his chest. “Even then, my goods slipped through the cracks, huh? Doubt even getting your tubes tied could stop me from knockin’ your pretty little ass up, sweetheart.” 

You bit his tit while he cackled like a madman. “You're fucking gross and I hate you.” 

“N'awe. Would creaming on my cock make you feel better?” 

“No. Well, maybe later. But coffee and breakfast might subdue me right now.”

#male reader insert #sukuna x you #sukuna x m!reader #jjk #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #reader insert #ryoumen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk smut #jjk x male reader #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #itadori sukuna x reader

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: Kill a Dragon, Rez a Falin

I just like when they're friends like this :)

This, too, is taken from another post, but truly this dynamic is sooo funny of

Chilchuck: I am not a fighter!

Chilchuck, any time he has any sort of ranged weapon: [aims with pinpoint accuracy]

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This is just literally that moment in every Miraculous Ladybug episode where everything goes gray and the things Marinette is about to use for a Plan "light up" one by one in red with black spots. Please someone draw fanart of this. And maybe an entire Miraculous Ladybug AU. Yes I think Kabru would have to be Chat Noir - in terms of deuteragonist-ness is SHOULD be Marcille, but she and Laios just doesn't have enough of a bizarre push and pull Dynamic. We need real character foils to pull off that relationship square.

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Raw fucking dialogue.

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THE PERIODIC ADS ON THIS SITE FOR PRINTING OR CLOTHING OR SHOES REALLY ADD TO THE EXPERIENCE.

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Agh agh agh, looking at this, thinking about Namari's explanation of how much body mass you can lose before resurrection gets harder...

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Carving this tunnel into the dragon and physically walking in emphasizes how big it was much more than anything we saw while it was alive, and it's sooo cool.

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This ad was a great millisecond of cliffhanger, unironically.

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These opening pages of the next chapter are so devastating. After all the movement of the fight, this simple layout and minimal dialogue make the grief and horror and just emptiness, emptiness where Falin should be, where hope for Falin should be, ring like a low and broken bell. Driven in just a little deeper by Laios admitting he doesn't know a monsters fact (warg bones vs human bones) - there is helplessness, too. He's just doing the only thing he can, which is so little, in all this terrible caesura.

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And then this! Marcille and Laois don't have the messy meatiness of relationship to carry and Miraculous Ladybug love square, but they are JOINTLY the parallel to the Mad Mage, and that's fascinating. They're on the same page here: Laios's "No" isn't just the denial of grief, it's a flat "That's not what we'll do." This is Laios - of course he's already thinking about how the red dragon is perfectly functional meat. As is Marcille, at last 100% in-step with him re: monsters = meat, here in the final steps to save Falin. With magic and drive and an absolute determination to save Falin, they're going to walk hand in hand into the darkness, and if something in their devours them (or their party, or the surface world...) - well, it'll have to beat them first, because throughout this world it's eat or be eaten, and those who want it most, win.

(And it IS fascinating that they do this while, so far as I've seen, basically remaining at the relationship tier of "good friends/in-laws." This isn't Found Family, it's Found Really Good Co-Workers; and I LOVE that.)

.

THE PARALLEL COMPOSITION AND DIALOGUE TO THE ABOVE SCREENSHOT WHEN LAIOS WENT TO KILL THE DRAGON THOUGH!! I'M FERAL!!!

.

Obsessed with the decision to frame this as a monster meal.

.

Blood! In! Hair! Blood! In! Hair! Man, when I saw that post saying this wished this show was in the show, I vaguely assumed her hair had gotten messed up in the fight but she didn't bother to fix it for the ritual; but in fact her hair was braided literally 1 panel ago - she undid that and DELIBERATELY (or at least uncaringly) ran her bloody hand through it.

.

YOU WISH YOUR GIRLFRIEND WAS AS COOL AS THIS PANEL! Oh fuck yeah, eyes went white. That's when you know the magic is awesome.

.

HUNGER AND EATING AS A SIGN, SYMPTOM, STIPULATION AND SYNECDOCHE OF BEING ALIVE!!!

Alas, but with good okay slightly postponed and belated timing I must now go to bed.

#dm lb #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon

[inconspicuouspotatosack]

i hate this. i hate this!!

#/j #new hyperfixation identified ig #the boys amazon #i'm fucking obsessed with it. the character dynamics. what the fuck is going on #the found family of it all #also whatever the fuck butcher and hughie have going on #their exchanges. the things they take for granted about each other. #god i'm having a moment right now there is so much happening. #not me realizing this literal moment that i just. am literally hughie campbell #i'm trying!! i'm trying so hard to fucking find myself. #yeah everything is a shitshow but my found family is there with me #supporting me in this journey and being unexpectedly but not necessarily unwelcomedly homoerotic about it #anyway i've got a self-identified frenchie in the party #and what i suspect will be a self-identified butcher or perhaps mother's milk #oh god there's a kimiko here too #i really am not meaning to typecast my friends #just dumbstruck by how much i relate to hughie fucking campbell #yes yes he's clearly the most relatable protagonist to the average viewer etc etc #idk i'm just reflecting

[vulpinesaint]

bed covered in books feeling fucking fanTASTIC

#READING IS SUCH A THRILL DID Y'ALL KNOW ABOUT THIS #i've acquired two books off that queerplatonic ace rep rec list so far and i am. thrilled about it #the first one is not like. Extraordinary haha but i read like two hundred and sixty pages last night and it was enjoyable! #i have to remember that ya fiction is ya fiction sometimes. haha #but!!! ordered another one online (first one is a library book which was SO fulfilling to go grab) and it got here today and i'm SO pumped #reviews online were largely positive + complimented the like. visuals and dark fairy tale feel to it #and while one review said that the prose wasn't that good (i am always looking for writing that is Technically good) #(technically as in like. the technical aspects of it are well done. it's well executed) #i am still excited about the kind of character dynamics it promises me #i'll take some clumsy prose if it gets me platonic intimacy. i swear to god i will #ALSO IT'S ABOUT THE WILD HUNT AND I AM SO OBSESSED WITH THE WILDHUNT #and i was promised nonbinary knight character??? so. new fixation incoming perhaps #only choice now is whether to finish the first one or jump right into the next haha #i have what. less than a hundred pages of not even bones to finish? #i should get through that one haha #apparently it's a trilogy and the qpr comes in later so :rolling_eyes: #we'll see if i'm invested enough #or i'll read the webtoon or smth haha #I FUCKING LOVE THE LIBRARY I CAN REQUEST + HOLD THE NEXT TWO BOOKS #god. using public utilities is such a rush #anyway!!!! excited excited :) #valentine notes

[ackermans-angel]

BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND!GOJO SATORU | FIC RECS

A/N: Been obsessed with the Brother's Best Friend trope recently, specifically regarding Satoru, and I really wanted to share my favorite fics created by the amazing writers listed below. ALSO I wanted to do this because I haven't made one of these recommendation lists in awhile, and I love to do them number one to help promote the writers I love, and number two because when I find a trope I love with a character I wish I had a list like this to just find fics instantly LMAOOO. PLEASE feel free to recommend me your favorite brother's best friend fics if you know anymore and FEEL FREE to send me an ask at anytime if you're searching for fics of a certain trope I'd be happy to make more lists. Now enough of my yapping, I got ahead of myself and I'm posting this now but I'll update as I find more fics.

WARNING: I WON’T BE MORE CLEAR ON THIS! If you proceed to these accounts make sure to look at the rules and warnings. please respect the account owner, as most of them don’t want people under 18 on them. ALWAYS READ WARNINGS ON FICS TO INSURE YOU ARE RESPECTING THE WRITERS GUIDELINES!!!

One more thing! IF YOU LIKE A FIC PLEASE REBLOG NO MATTER THE ACCOUNT! The easiest way to show a creator you care and that their work is being appreciated is to reblog reblog reblog! They spend hours of their time creating work FOR US. The least we can do is REBLOG!

accounts under the cut. (last updated January 4th, 2024.)

IF IT’S ONLY A TOUCH…AITA? by @tteokdoroki This one is so good and the most recent one I read. It's the perfect amount of angst and smut. It does have some descriptions of the reader having braids, darker skin, and brown eyes so if you don't like when it's not vague about how the reader looks then this is probably not for you. However, those descriptions do not match me at all and I didn't have a problem while reading at all. I think you should definitely give it a read if you like the brother best friend trope!

BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND by @cptnleviackerman This one was so good for it only having so few notes. definitely go hype this one up because it deserves it. Read the tags before you continue on though because some of the themes could be triggering! Other then that this one was super good.

HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO FUCK YOUR BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND? (FOUR WHOLE DAYS) by @saetoru SOOO GOOD. I love this fic so please go check this one out!

CRYBABY. by @ieirism AHHHH I FORGOT ABOUT THIS ONE. This one was soooooo goood. It is really fluffy and has so much sweet satoru. love love love.

TELL ME YOU DON'T WANT ME by @awearywritersworld I completely forgot about this one but from what I can remember it was really sweet. All angst and fluff and omg their dynamic after sugurus death is just so sweet.

YOUNGER BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND GOJO by @satocidal this is just a little drabble but the smut>>>>> that's all I have to say. go read!!

#gojo satoru #brother's best friend!Gojo Satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jujustu kaisen #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru x you #gojo smut #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jujutsu satoru #jjk x reader #satoru smut #satoru fluff #satoru angst

[greensaplinggrace]

the fact of the matter is that buffy ends up isolated no matter what the scoobies do because she bears the burden of the slayer alone at the end of the day and nothing can change that. the problem with this isn't that she's separate from them, it's that they don't want to acknowledge that she is, and in doing so they drive a wedge between them that just grows and grows. the best thing about spike is that he's similar enough to this other side of buffy to understand it and her by extension. he is the only person around who can support that side of her.

most of buffy's issues in season six stem from the scoobies rejecting a part of buffy that spike accepts. and this shame she feels for her reliance on spike and the presence of this darkness and isolation she cannot avoid is largely because of them. i'm sick of this bizarre assumption that pointing out where the scoobies go wrong in their relationship with buffy somehow equals an uncritical uplifting of spike. just because he understands her and represents a certain aspect of her doesn't mean he doesn't fuck up. i mean that's kind of the whole point of their season six dynamic. one of his biggest issues is that he thinks he's helping her by enabling her completely because he doesn't have the ability to properly identify the line between self acceptance and self destruction - pursuit of the id is one of his biggest character traits. that's what makes the end of season six and his decision to get the soul so interesting (although of course there's just as much i can say about the narrative framing of that in regards to lore consistency and the story's obsession with angel, but that's a whole other thing).

point is, the scoobies cannot understand all of buffy, and when they refuse to acknowledge this they destroy their chances of building any bridges to even a simple relationship with that other side of buffy or helping her carry that burden in any way. meanwhile, spike is in the proper position to understand buffy as the slayer and hold his own with her in such a way, but his definition of love is wholly obsessive and destructive. while i disagree that he's incapable of love and even of loving selflessly without his soul, i think spike's version of love in particular is self destructive in a way that enables buffy's own desire to hurt herself through hurting him (see the aforementioned shame regarding her shadow self). spike cannot identify why allowing buffy to give in to her dark side in such a way is bad because he struggles to understand how she could use this to resent herself - although i do think he realizes it's happening on some level.

spike is also buffy's only form of catharsis and the only one that actually listens to what she is saying during a time when everybody else is dismissing her because of the aforementioned inability to understand her as the slayer. it's a clusterfuck - and a clusterfuck that needed to be shattered with a hammer for any kind of relief. and quite frankly to disregard the scoobies' own part in this situation does a disservice to buffy as a character. to be honest, she deserves fucking better than what everyone in her life gives her, especially the scoobies, who grow to take her for granted and feel entitled to controlling her life as a way of keeping her conformed - again, due to the aforementioned lack of desire to acknowledge this other part of her that they cannot connect with.

which leads to season seven, where spike is the only person on the show who has developed and changed enough to remain at buffy's side helping her carry the burden. while everyone else suffered during season six, none of them opened their eyes to what they were doing to buffy - and if they did, none of them acted on it. spike is the only one to acknowledge the damage he's done and work to become better for buffy in any way he can. he is the only one that ends up able to carry that burden with her because he is the only one capable of facing the truth and acting on his desire to do better.

the fucking problem isn't that he hurt buffy - because to be quite frank everybody did - it's that he's the only person on the whole damn show to acknowledge his place in buffy's life, and to acknowledge the burdens she bears, and actively change himself for her. did you know he has almost all of the genuine apologies in the entire show? seven seasons and all of the harm the scoobies cause buffy, and it's fucking spike that is acting like a mature person capable of being a proper partner.

#buffy summers #btvs #spuffy #anyways buffy deserves better than that #is all #as a character who's path to self acceptance is pretty important to a lot of people #even if again i could write a lot about how that bag is fumbled throughout the show lol #btvs discourse #fandomcourse #pro spuffy #idk man i dont actually go to this fandom #i just have thoughts on buffy #honestly i never joined the fandom cause i imagine the literacy is probably worse than even the bs fandom lmfao

[fruitsofhell]

Something I really like about Rose Quartz's characterization is how dedicated the writers were to making what she did morally grey. Idk it would have been really easy for the twist to be she was Just Evil, especially learning she was related to the main villains, but no they created this very vague character who even in her appearances feels mysterious. If anything Rose is the one thing that is less clear to me after my rewatch, because now seeing the nuance in her character pulls me out of a black-ane-white view of her and into one that is just... foggy.

But a vibe I do get from Rose, is that despite clearly being incredibly compassionate, she's someone who lacks empathy in the case of the ability to fully realize others' autonomy and thought processes. There's just a lot of decisions she makes that feel aloof in an odd way, and when combined with how childish she can be it can give the impression she sees everything as a game. But it's still clear that she cares and is genuinely moved by the Earth, and when her entire truth is revealed you can see how ideologically honest she was. Even if it feels like her beliefs are just so she can have fun, but that is part of freedom, the freedom to vibe and explore and do silly things she couldn't.

That attitude clearly just comes from her position as Pink Diamond. It was an oppressive role emotionally, but not as literally oppressive as the lives of those around her. I think her relationship with Pearl is where I find the most of the part of me that sees her as compassionate but unempathetic. Pink can't fathom what it's like to have been born to be an obedient servant and how that would cloud Pearl's judgement. How telling her "I'm going to fight for this world but you dont have to" would mean nothing to her because she is still obsessed with her, how entering a romantic relationship with something while they're still effectively your servant is unhealthy, or how spending her life flirting with other men would probably tear your servant-to-lover-to-ex up inside lmao. With the first she obviously meant to be giving her a choice because she cares about Pearl, but she can't understand how to truly give Pearl freedom of choice she can't treat her like a fully freethinking person. With the second she doesn't understand how her power has an unhealthy impact on her bond with Pearl. And with the last it's not at all that Rose isn't allowed to move on, but I just always found she has a lack of awareness of Pearl's jealousy and misery that's a bit inappropriate. Not that you can't assume she has already let Pearl down easy or cares about her coping, but it's never shown, which feels like a deliberate choice.

I'm working on a more organized theory about Rose's characterization, but it is deeply fascinating. Her and Pearl's relationship is as well, I feel like it's sometimes characterized as just a mean jealous ex situation but like it's way more fucked than that, and is a great exploration of power dynamics, obsession, and grief. Love me some toxic doomed yuri.

#steven universe #pearl #rose quartz #pink diamond #su #shut the heck up #theories and rambling #i need to redo my tagging systems honestly #this is super unorganized but i just wanted to get it out #i reallybreally love characters with low empathy and high compassion so i might be projecting preferences lol

[toorumlk]

Hi I'm so freaking obsessed with your twitter.

Also what's your favorite Romione moment in the books and why?

ohohoho thank you, friend, i’m quite proud of some of the stuff i’ve posted on there B)

and as for my favourite romione moment in the books, when i read the question i first blanked out for a couple minutes, thinking of a bunch of smaller, sillier scenes. but then i remembered that i do have a favourite and it’s from chapter 11 of DH, when remus visited the trio at grimmauld place and filled them in on he goings on of the war -including the implementation of the muggle-born registry. ron’s response upon hearing this (after his immediate outrage) was

and it’s not just the hand holding and the “‘you won’t have a choice’ said Ron fiercely” that played out so vividly in my head like this:

but this scene demonstrates so perfectly the political weight of this pairing (muggleborn/blood traitor) which i think is the immovable narrative foundation of romione. all of their silly moments and idiosyncrasies aside, there is genuine narrative purpose behind this love. ron has always had an astute understanding of the blood supremacist politics of the wizarding world (need i remind that he was ready to curse shitco at the ripe age of 12 for calling hermione the in-universe slur) and just how wrong it is. ron is a pure-blood wizard and by design has so much privilege in this society bc of it, but by virtue of having parents like arthur and molly, he’s grown up knowing the importance of fighting against blood supremacist ideology. always.

so, after hearing about the completely horrifying muggleborn registry ("People won't let this happen," said Ron. "It is happening, Ron," said Lupin.), he immediately turns to his muggleborn best friend and love of his life and says “i’m making you a family member, i’m going to use the protection my family-name has and use it to protect you from the awful injustice of our situation, no you won’t have a choice but to let me help you”

i remember having such a… visceral reaction while reading this scene like holy shit .. these kids, THESE KIDS!!!!! this is the bone-marrow-deep love that makes me feel insane. this dynamic of the blood traitor/muggleborn always there, from CoS all the way to the epilogue. We get to see that romione is the story’s pure blood/muggleborn that finally made it (rip jily and tedromeda :(). we see it in hermione keeping her muggle last name after they get married (oh my god these two actually got married) and we also see it in the hyphenated Granger-Weasley (granger being first!) in their kids’ last names (oh my gof these two had TWO kids). they are a true symbol of change and progress in their world.

also this is one of those moments where i’m so glad that our only window to romiones relationship development is through harry’s narration because it so brilliantly shows the readers this blossoming love story instead of just telling us about it because harry obviously doesn’t have access to the inner thoughts of his two best friends, he can only witness them fall deeper in love. showing the audience acts of love is always more powerful and my god is this an act of showing your love to your beloved.

(and not to go on an unrelated tangent, but this is exactly why i could never ship my girl hermione w any DE or DE-adjacent character. no fucking way. not when the concept of a muggle-born registry exists in this universe, not when the antagonists in this story wish to eradicate people like her from their society. idk about the rest of y’all but im going to keep taking the narrative seriously bc the worldbuilding obviously has real world ties/implications and i like engaging with the canon. tangently to the tangent, i saw someone (a ron basher) on twitter say that ron, OUR RON FROM THE ABOVE EXCERPT, was “one bad day away from becoming a death eater” ohhhh ohhh i ought to beat you with sticks bc HUH? this is the same kid who said he would’ve boarded the train back to kings cross if he got sorted to slytherin, the house notorious for birthing DEs, at the tender age of 11)

anyways, all this to say is that romione is incredibly, realistically, materially romantic and i love them and i love their love <3

#romione #harry potter #harry potter and the deathly hallows #pro romione #bc duh #romione meta #hp meta #harry potter meta #toorumlk #nusreplies #my art #bc the hands #ron weasley defense squad

[ellecdc]

Nsfw!

Moonwater is a bit new pairing for me and i love it too much but i always wonder how the dynamic are in the bedroom, i really dont think both men are anything other than rough.

I mean when needed the boys would be gentle but most of the time i dont think so? Remus, maybe? could be gentler but during full moon he’s an animal but regulus tho, i dont see him as the gentle type.

What do you think?

oooou ok ok I like it, I like it; let's discuss below

CW: discussing sex and dynamics, NSFW, mdni 18+

So, this first part is going to be my own personal opinion based off of who I am as a person, and my views may not be shared within the fandom. I personally struggle with super abrasive dom/sub dynamics where a male character is very overbearing, controlling, etc. THAT DOESN'T MEAN I DON'T LIKE ANY DOM/SUB DYNAMICS, just that fics where a male character is being super aggressive and demeaning and such really aren't my vibe, if that makes sense?

I personally struggle imagining our sweet, sad boy Remus as being super mean in bed? Doesn't mean I don't think he's in charge, especially in poly!scenarios because when there's that many people in bed, someone has to run the show lol, but I don't see him as super bossy and assertive.

Now, keeping in mind that this is my interpretation on a character who literally doesn't exist (which is so sad wtf), my version of 'dom!remus' looks more like a very assured, confident guy in bed; he knows what he's doing, he's good at it, and he knows how to get everyone where they're trying to go (i.e., orgasm city, obviously). He takes care of everyone in bed, and (in the case of poly!marauders or poly!wolfstar) he certainly redirects anyone's naughty (bratty) behaviour (read: sirius), but I think he'd also be super communicative and understanding that it's a dance, not a battle which adds to his assuredness and confidence in bed because people feel safe with him - they know that he knows what he's doing and can let go because they trust him with their safety and their pleasure - and he's in bed with his partner's, not his adversaries.

I've often imagined his love language (how he shows love) to be acts of service and physical touch, which I think goes hand in hand with how he is in bed; when he's in a relationship with these ships, he's making love, not just fucking

HOWEVER.....

I think you're right...some things definitely change around the full moon. I think leading up to the moon (depending on if it was a manic moon or if he was moonsick) there'd be a very noticeable change in him. For manic moons - he'd be a little more desperate, a little rougher (while still being our sweet guy as mentioned above lol), and I think there would be way more sex. He'd be insatiable and obsessed with you; "come on dovey, one more for me, yeah? you're so good, so good for me; i know you can do one more". Good luck trying to pry him from between your legs.

if he was riddled with moonsickness (immediately after every moon or leading up to a bad moon where he is sore and such), i think he might be a bit of a switch? He'd want to be held and cherished and taken care of - he'd nearly cry in awe every time you got on your knees to give him a lazy, gentle blowjob, or if you were in the mood, he'd lay back and let you ride him (he actually loved it - thought you looked beautiful up there)

Now for Regulus lolololololol

No one who grew up in the dynamics Regulus did is vanilla in bed, I'm sorry. (and I come from a place of authority in this - I relate a little too well to Sirius [though not as violent, obviously]). Honestly? I could see Regulus being mean. And not in a super demeaning way that makes you feel small or embarrassed (again, this is my preference), but he takes pleasure in surprising you by suddenly flipping you over and taking you from a different angle. By suddenly and without warning changing the rhythm of his thrusts from soft and slow to deep and punishing. He'd love marking you up - possessive af and making sure everyone and anyone knew that not only were you taken, but you were his. In the same vain, I picture him as a bit of a sadist/masochist but again, not in a super violent or demeaning way. He'd like for the fuck to be a little rough, a little hard; he loves the mixture of pleasure and pain - wants to be bit so hard he bleeds and wouldn't mind doing the same to you if you asked for it. I also think he'd be willing to try a lot of new things in bed, and some of his favourite sex is when you fuck him with a strap [if you're fem or afab].

Together?

I think Rem is still in charge - again, he's confident and assured in the bedroom and everyone trusts his authority and trusts him to keep them safe and satisfied. He would keep Reg from getting too rough or going too hard and would constantly check in to make sure you were still good with everything going on. He'd also be able to satiate any need in Reg regarding his masochistic tendencies. I believe Reg would bottom in the dynamic, but again, I think sometimes depending on the moon and how Rem is feeling mentally - he'd experiment more fluidly with Reg.

I've also mentioned before that I believe Purebloods have a breeding kink and with Remus' animalistic side due to his lycanthropy, that he would too. So I think there would be a lot of using cum as lube, taking turns filling you up with their cum, maybe some snowballing??? jesus christ I'm a sick fuck lmfao. anything to do with cum would send those boys spiralling, "no no babygirl, don't waste it" Rem would coo as he used his fingers to push cum back into your hole. or "whose do you want next, amour? Mine or Rem's?"

And I think you're right, when the time called for it, these boys would be so fucking good at making you feel nothing short of fucking worshipped. The soft, hungry gazes, the lingering and soothing touches, the praises falling from their lips as they gave you everything they got. I'd cry I think; they'd reduce me to tears for sure.

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #remus lupin #self insert #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #remus lupin x regulus black #moonwater #poly!moonwater #poly!moonwater x reader #poly!moonwater x you #moonseeker #poly!moonseeker #poly!moonseeker x reader #poly!moonseeker x you #poly!moonwater smut #poly!moonwater headcanons #remus lupin smut #regulus black smut #ellecdc fics

[nekropsii]

What a about Caliborn makes him so cool in your opinion?

Go keep track of his progression as an artist alongside his development as a character and think about how these are intrinsically linked. Ponder the fact that he is both at his most obnoxious and at his most amateur when trying to ignore his unique style explicitly brought on by his canonical learning disability and mimic others rather than truly be himself. Consider how his explorations of art are genuinely cool, not a bad thing, and how we get some really neat multimedia stuff out of it.

Caliborn may be a shitty little teenage wretch but the way he is portrayed as an artist and as a disabled person is both really good and very real. It comes from a place of love. His learning disability is handled with a degree of gentle care that you would not really expect from Hussie. The place Caliborn's art style ends up in is so fucking sick and I actually unironically love it. The technique he uses is really interesting. It's intentionally reminiscent of an Etch-a-Sketch, and I'm a little obsessed with it.

This is so fucking good. I mean this seriously. He's right - that is some Pure Art Skill.

I just love the way art is employed as a necessary component of his character arc. It's so neat. You don't see visual cues that intricate too often. Usually it's just in character design, but watching his entire art style and even his medium of choice change several times over is fascinating. You can really tell Hussie had a lot of fun with him. He's also just really, really fucking funny. Just about every sentence that comes out of his mouth is Grade A Absolute Fucking Gold, and I'm honestly obsessed with his dynamic with Dirk. This may get me thrown to the wolves, but I personally think Dirk and Caliborn have way more chemistry than Dirk and Jake. Maybe that's because we actually see Dirk and Caliborn interact on screen... Lmao.

Necessary Topic: I don't know why people hate him so much. Like, I understand hating his misogyny and fatphobia, sure, but those are deliberate character points and not just Hussie-isms. I see people act like Caliborn is indicative of Hussie, as if Homestuck-era Hussie wasn't, like, famously really fucking good at writing female characters and absolutely not a misogynist. Caliborn's a parody of Homestuck Anti-Fans - which is a term we really ought to bring back, god, anti-fans are absolutely still a thing and good lord they're everywhere - who really were just shitty little bigoted haters. Calliope, the opposite side of his coin, was representative of, essentially, "the best kind of Homestuck fan" - an ultimately sweet young teen girl who willingly dedicates almost all of her time to this piece of fiction she loves so, so much, who draws a lot of fan art for the joy of it all, has OCs that don't fit any of the design conventions in Homestuck whom she pairs with the characters in it for innocent fun. Someone who has a lot of theories and analyses, writes a lot of fanfic, and is genuinely just having a lot of fun. Everyone loves Calliope. Even the characters in Homestuck love Calliope. They just think she's the cutest, sweetest little thing they ever did see. Caliborn was the worst kind. He sucks on purpose. No one likes him. He is a total nuisance to characters he is by all means trying to impress. I love them both.

It's also just funny that he's a canonical Intersex Transmasc who is probably Gay and this has, like, no relevance to anything about him, really. So no one really talks about it. Gender Hilarious, Gender Nefarious.

#homestuck #homestuck meta #homestuck analysis #cherubs #homestuck cherubs #caliborn #calliope #caliborn.pdf #nekro.pdf #nekro.sms

[akoyaxs]

Dangerous Games - III ✮ Pairing: Aonung x Tayrangi/Omotikaya fem reader (possible Neteyam x reader as well) ✮ Tags: Reader POV, friends with benefits, p in v, aftercare, fluffy fluff fluff, Aonung x Reader, slight Neteyam x reader, reader has intimacy issues (childhood traumaᵕ̈), jealous Aonung, jealous Neteyam <3 ✮ Word Count: 5.4 k PART 1 HERE | PART 2 HERE Note: this (backstory and character dynamic) is heavily based of my wattpad fanfiction "Dangerous Game", it's just a little more mature than I would post on my WP so I'm doing a Aonung x reader part now instead of the Aonung x OC in the fanfiction ˙ᵕ˙

You didn't exactly make a mistake, you know that, yet it's not the best position to be in. On one hand, there's a massive, obnoxiously hot skxawng that is obsessed with you, happy to do anything you like, but on the other, the principal for not giving in to his endless and amused attempts at seduction has dismally failed.

Yet every few days different encounter isn't exactly making you regret your acceptance of his "friends with benefits" offer.

You might get hot from training, or Aonung might be frustrated with his unsuccessful attempts at ikran taming, and suddenly you're finding his head buried hungrily between your legs, or bent over as he's balls deep and roughly thrusting, all the while smoothing your hair and whispering his moaned praise.

You're always careful to not get attached, to never pay too much attention to the sincerity of his words and his surprising gentleness with you when you aren't in the middle of one of your "benefits", but you can never miss it.

It's starting to worry you, the way you're now starting to like the tender touches, the way he brushes your hair out of your face and tells you how well you're doing.

No one has ever been this careful with you, bothered to try at look after you like this. You know it's your fault that you push everyone away, but Aonung is the first to refuse to be pushed away.

He cares, for some inexplicable reason that makes no sense to you. He's infuriatingly stubborn, just like you are.

So weeks after the arrangement began, you begin to notice the other things, things that only mean one thing.

"He really likes you, you know."

"What?" you say, snapping out of your daze and looking up at Kiri, who smiles, her eyes darting to where yours had just been watching Aonung with Rotxo in the river.

You, the three metkayina and the Sullys had taken the day to go to the river so Rotxo, Tsireya and Aonung could swim.

Neteyam looks up from besides you as you frown at Kiri.

"What are you talking about?" you clarify.

"Aonung is obviously down fucking bad for you," Kiri grins. "I mean, he can't ever pull his eyes away from you, and when you aren't around him, he's always looking around to see where you are."

"No he's not," you scoff. "He-"

"Loves you," Neteyam finishes, his face blank and bored, as though he's pointing out the fucking obvious.

"No," you shake your head. "He just had a little thing for me at the start that-"

"Has grown into an unbearable love?" Kiri suggests. "The only question is if that love is unrequited or reciprocated."

"No!" you exclaim, covering your face. "We're just... friends. ish. Friendish."

"Right..." Neteyam says, raising his brows at you. "So you don't fuck."

"That's - that's- no- well, yeah but- I mean NO-"

"Oh Eywa," Kiri says, her incredulous laugh interrupting your awkward, desperate stammers. "You totally do!"

"That's not a big deal," you snap. "He's attractive and it doesn't mean anything, we're just... helping each other out, I guess."

Kiri mouths the words helping each other out, before turning and shooting her brother a disbelieving look. Neteyam's gaze is still and expressionless, flicking between your flushed face and Aonung in the river. 

You follow his gaze to see Aonung staring at you, and you quickly turn away, grabbing Neteyam to do the same.

"It's just sex, nothing else," you say strictly.

"Yes," Kiri sighs. "But you're old enough to have more. You could find a mate. Besides, you deserve to be happy-"

"You don't have a mate," you say defensively.

"She has Rotxo," Neteyam points out. "Lo'ak and Tsireya have each other. You're the only one who-"

"You don't have a mate either," you protest.

"Well that's different," Neteyam sighs. "I'm the next Olo'eyktan, remember? I can't just pick anyone for my mate, and besides, who I want-"

"WHO?" you say excitedly. "Is there someone else?!"

Neteyam doesn't answer, and you tackle him to the floor excitedly, shaking his shoulders and demanding he tells you who. Neteyam reluctantly opens his mouth to speak, but then he looks over your shoulder and quickly closes it.

Aonung is standing there, so massive that you have to crane your neck to look up at him. You have to admit that it's hard to not stare too hard- his paler smooth teal skin is glittering with little gleaming droplets of river water, and when you're this low besides him, you're kneeling for a very different task.

You don't need him to speak to understand what he's thinking about, but it's a question of why. However you just slide off of Neteyam who was still pinned underneath you and stand up.

Neteyam's face hardens as he watches you face Aonung, brows raised and waiting for him to speak.

"Can I speak to you?" Aonung asks dully.

Kiri is gaping, Rotxo and Lo'ak are laughing to themselves whilst Tsireya is adorably oblivious, and Neteyam is watching silently and emotionlessly as you nod and follow Aonung through the trees. You can feel his cold golden gaze burning into your back until you slip between the trees, and even when you know he couldn't see you any longer, you can feel the ghost of his inexplicable gaze between your shoulder-blades.

"Yes?" you ask, once you pause a little while away.

"Is there something between you and Neteyam?" Aonung asks, frowning down at you.

You blink confusedly back. You weren't expecting him to speak- expecting more of the usual quick fuck so you could both release some tension then head back to the others.

"What do you mean, something between me and Tey?"

"You call him Tey, for one thing," Aonung points out. "And you're with him a lot-"

"Funny," you say, folding your arms. "Because he says the exact same thing about you."

"But we're actually fucking," Aonung says, without any pretence of a smile in his blunt, deep voice. 

"What are you trying to say," you ask with narrowed eyes.

"Do you- uh -have any other friends," he asks, arms folded and blue eyes fixed challengingly in your golden-amber ones.

"What does that matter?"

"Because I want to know what I have to share," Aonung growls.

There's a strange, almost possessive glint in those ocean eyes now. Share. He thinks that he needs to share you.

"Why would it matter," you whisper. "We're not anything, this is just an arrangement. You're free to do whatever you like too."

You think for a moment that you broke Aonung. He is completely still, glaring so irately down at you with those blazing, large blue eyes as you try to guess what he's going to do next. But he still manages to surprise you when he leans forward and crashes his lips onto yours.

Everything has always been tentative, frightened to cross the barrier that would be too much for the other, but Aonung just doesn't seem to give a damn right now.

His mouth is warm and hungry, fangs lightly nipping your soft lips, hands roaming and grabbing and caressing with careless oblivion in a way that makes your skin ache afterwards in a welcome sting and bruise.

Then suddenly you're lifted up and you're on your knees right there on the forest floor. You can feel Aonung's breath hot and heavy as he nips at your neck, folded over your much smaller, arched body and sliding your tewngs away with quick hands.

"Is this-"

"Yes it's fine," you say, gasping a little as you feel yourself being stretched open, small stings of pain shooting through you as you drop your forehead to the ground and grunt. This is different to before, bent completely over with your face pillowed against the ground.

When he starts to move, it completely knocks your breath out, so you're left gasping for air you never manage to catch as he thrusts again. His grip on your waist is bordering on strangling, yet you find yourself unconsciously following him, pulling yourself back to meet each one of your thrusts with a choked moan.

His sudden roughness and hunger and desire is startling yet undoubtedly welcome. So this is what it's like when he's unrestrained, hot and animalistic, rutting fast and hard, pushing you into a further arch while his sharp teeth nip at the back of your neck and shoulders.

It's starting to get too much, the coil in your stomach growing too close too soon, and your moans are starting to border on lewd whines and whimpers as you sink your teeth into the flesh of your arms.

You're clutching the ground for dear damn life, arms attempting to pillow your face as your whole body rocks forward with each rough, almost ruthless thrust.

"I'm going to-" You gasp, your thighs trembling as you sob against the floor. "Oh, god, oh fuck, oh shit, I'm going to-"

You can feel him twitch inside of you, and you moan at a particularly hard thrust. Each rock of his hips knocks every breath, every thought out of you until your heart is pounding in rhythm with each increasingly rough, deep, animalistic thrust of his cock rutting between your legs.

"Wa- wait," you gasp, as another thought occurs to you. "Aonung, the others."

"What about them," he grunts, not slowing down for a second, hand absent-mindedly moving to your shoulder-blades to push you into an even deeper arch.

Between choked whines, you manage to say, "They're right over there. They're going to hear!"

"Guess you're just going to have to be more quiet," he says carelessly, no doubt knowing that there wasn't a fucking chance of that happening.

You just bury your face deeper into your arms, hoping that they'll be enough to hide the moans knocked out of you with each of his deep thrusts.

He has you pinned firmly beneath him, yet it feels snug and comforting despite the pain of his grip. It feels like he's fucking everything into you, even his scent, so each thrust is enveloping you in his warm, tropical scent.

Then finally with a loud cry that you tried so hard to stifle and kill, your entire body pulses as your orgasm blazes through you like fire as Aonung continues to fuck you through the quivers of your release.

You yelp as he speeds up now, brutal and animalistic as the last tenterhooks of his strained restraint snaps and he buries himself deep inside you.

You just give out, going slightly limp so he's holding you up as he comes, hair spilling over you as you just rest against the floor, breathing heavily in an attempt to steady yourself as you choke at the sensation of impossible fullness.

Then when he finally stops, he seems to return to himself, realising that you're just lax on the floor, only held up by his rough grip on your slightly bruised hips, flushed and slightly tear-streaked face hidden shamefully in your arms and curtained away by your long dark hair.

"Shit, are you okay?" Aonung asks, pulling out and lightly tilts your chin so he can see your face.

You just groan weakly and attempt to swat his hand away, a mortified little smile on your face as he sighs in relief and flops to the ground beside you.

"Feeling better?" you croak, wrinkling your nose at him.

Aonung exhales shakily with a small laugh. He turns to look at you, and there's a note of something in his eyes that you just don't understand- like he's trying to see if he would be able to get away with something.

Then he tentatively reaches out and tucks your hair away. When you don't protest or pull away, he lightly pulls you closer, so your head is resting between his shoulder and his neck, your arm draped tiredly across his chest and your body nestled cozily against his larger one.

You're tense. You've never done this, never cuddled, never allowed someone to be this fucking close. But then again, you've never fucked the same guy twice, and you've been in this arrangement with Aonung for weeks.

But this time was different, aggressive and desperate and hot and messy and overwhelming, and you're completely fucked out.

"Are you alright?" you ask Aonung quietly.

That's weird too, that you're asking Aonung about how he is. That you care how he is.

"What do you mean?" he asks gently, nuzzling closer into your neck. You try to ignore how comfortable it is having his lips resting warmly against your collarbone.

"Well," you say, with a bitter, shaky laugh, "it looked like you were a little... pent up."

 Aonung groans and buries his face deeper into your hair.

"Aonung," you say gently, turning so you can see him.

You are inches apart, nearly nose to nose as you rake your eyes over his face. He looks torn between mortified and as though he's trying to hide from you. You wonder if it's this frustrating for him when you hide like this.

"I just forgot about the arrangement," Aonung mumbles, not meeting your eyes. "I just- I..." Surprising yourself, you tentatively reach up to brush your fingertips against the soft teal skin of his flushed face. His eyes instantly flick to yours, and his lips part just enough for you to lightly touch them too. "I just... I didn't like seeing you with Neteyam."

"Oh," you says softly. You have no idea what to say to that- especially when its something that you always kind of knew, but never expected to be told. Especially when it never processes in your mind that you could be loved. "Neteyam's just a friend," you laugh lightly.

There's a slight crackle behind you like twigs snapping, but when you look up, there's nothing and no one there. You frown, but Aonung lightly guides your face back to his before you can think more about it.

You sit like that in silence for a little bit, but it surprises you how it's not awkward at all. It's comfortable and warm and quiet, pillowed against his muscular body with his head tucked gently beside yours, hands absentmindedly playing with your hair.

Usually you would never allow this, but you're frankly fucked out, and you doubt you'd be able to push him away even if you wanted to. So you just close your eyes and rest for a moment, until he speaks.

"So when do I get an ikran?" Aonung asks, shifting slightly so you're facing each other now, yet you're still close enough for him to hold you.

"Soon," you shrug. "You can ask Neteyam to-"

"What if I don't want Neteyam to take me," Aonung asks.

"Lo'ak or Kiri might be free," you shrug. "If you manage to pull them away from Tsireya or Rotxo."

"What if I don't want the Sullys?" he asks, eyes glittering with amusement and slight incredulous annoyance as though you were being stupid.

"Then who-" you start to say, a confused look on your face before Aonung cuts you off, rolling his eyes with a fond little grin, his hand gently snaking to tilt your face as he kisses you.

You have half a mind to snap at him, to remind him that kissing was a little too personal, too intimate for the agreement when you weren't actually fucking, to shout at him for cutting you off, before you realise you don't actually mind the intimacy of the kiss when you're nestled in his arms, his hands gently caressing your cheeks and holding you close, his heart beating warmly and comfortably against you. 

In fact, the thought of him pulling away seems worse than the actual closeness, tenderness and suggestiveness of the kiss, then suddenly he is, and you're frowning at the sudden, tiny, yet extremely unwelcome distance between his lips and yours.

"Can I kiss you," he asks, just a little late.

"Yes fine," you grumble impatiently, yet by his little, delighted smile, you know he took it for what it secretly meant, yeah you'd better kiss me skxawng.

"So you'll allow this?" he grins, inching closer. "It doesn't break the agreement?"

You have a strong temptation to smack that smug, delighted expression off his face, but you are just fucking exhausted, and his kisses are like coffee. But before he can lean back in and satiate you, there's stupidly familiar voices though the trees and you're panickingly staggering up to not get caught.

"Bro," Lo'ak says, looking you up and down before raising his weird hairy human eyebrows at Aonung. "Are you trying to mark her now?"

You flush deeply, only now noticing the little purple bruises his grip had roughly left, as well as the little nips and hickeys that now adorned your body. You feel even more aware of Aonung's marks when you look back up and meet Neteyam's gaze, his rich-golden eyes blazing bright as they trail over the bruises, hickeys and love bites before turning coldy on Aonung. 

Aonung returns Neteyam's golden gaze with his own icy blue one, and an unspoken challenge seems to be passed between the two boys. You expected Neteyam to react like the others, amused like Lo'ak or scandalised like Tsireya, but he remains cold and expressionless, not looking at you or returning your nervous smile. Instead of laughing off or denying Lo'ak's question, Aonung just smirks slightly and looks away, and Neteyam swallows hotly.

The walk back to the village is a strange one. There's some weird confusing tension between Neteyam and Aonung that you probably couldn't decipher in the best of times, let alone when you're so completely fucked dumb that you're putting all your best efforts into walking normally enough so the others don't know that you're whole body is turned to jelly.

Tsireya is laughing with Lo'ak at the front of the group, but Kiri and Rotxo seemed to have noticed your clumsy tiredness because Kiri links her arm with yours and gently leads you along and Rotxo distracts you with quiet, sweet conversation.

But you're hardly listening, because you can feel two gazes blazing straight into you from behind. Although no words are spoken between them, the weirdness between Aonung and Neteyam seems to radiate straight into you. 

Whatever, you'll figure it all out when you're back to normal, when you aren't so weak that you're susceptible to Aonung's tenderness and intimacy, when you aren't so fucked so dumb and stupid and reckless that you aren't wanting to kiss him again.

But there's no mistaking the intensity of the gazes on your back as you reenter the village. One blazing gold, the other icy blue.

In the next few days after that trip to the river, you're terrified. Terrified of what happened between you and Aonung.

Not of the sex, no that was doubtlessly the best you've ever had, but of what happened after. Of the cuddling and the kiss and the tenderness with which he cared for you and the fact that you let him be so tender and intimate.

So okay, maybe seeing your whole clan get murdered and destroyed by sky people at a young age could be traumatising, maybe even give you a few silly little intimacy issues, but your total aversion for intimate affection had always been uncomplicated.

No one could betray or hurt you if you never let anyone get close enough for you to care about them. No one could ever get hurt by you if they never cared for you in the first place. But Aonung has. Yes he's pussy-whipped, but he's liked you from the start and you knew that. No matter how hard you tried to discourage him or push him away, he's just as stubborn in liking you as you are in not liking him.

And now you don't know what you like. You think you know what it means that you trusted him to take care of you, that you let him get close in a way that wasn't just meaningless activity and was genuine care and intimacy. So you have to stay away from him.

Which is why for the past few days, you've only been in your kelku. You refuse to go out, knowing full well that no matter where you go, to the forest or around the village, Aonung will track you down and ask why you've been avoiding him, be all concerned and sweet and ARGH.

You groan and flop back down onto your woven bed. You're running out of things to do- stuck in your kelku. You've woven an obscene, unnecessary amount of jewellery, carved two new knives, beaded several new tops that you can only wear if you one day summon the courage to go outside and face the prospect to running into Aonung.

You're snarling with annoyance of being self-isolated in your kelku, hissing to yourself under your breath as you string together the beads of a new top when someone ducks into your kelku. Your body stiffens, but you quickly relax when you realise who it is.

"Hey Tey," you grin, as he smiles slightly back at you. "What are you doing here?"

"I haven't seen you in days," Neteyam says, frowning slightly at you. "I was getting worried- you seemed... off, that day by the river."

"I was tired," you say, brows furrowing at your friend. Usually Neteyam would be sitting with you talking about a guy, torn between slight protectiveness over you and slight amusement at your scornful attitude to intimacy. But now he's frowning, worried about you. "Aonung tired me out."

You expect him to grin, to joke, to maybe even make fun of you, but Neteyam isn't Lo'ak. Your close friendship with each of the Sullys is different, but you always considered yourself closest to the eldest, training with Neteyam, bonding over the struggles you both went to to prove yourselves.

Since you sought refuge with the Omotikaya at a young age, you and Neteyam had been the closest of friends. As you got older, he was busier with his various duties as not only a warrior, but the future Olo'eyktan of the clan. The two of you never really discussed it, but in the last few years, when you both started having 'experiences' with others, you grew apart slightly.

It's not like your relationship had ever been romantic, but there were certain elements of intimacy and jealousy you had always just assumed to be the closeness of your friendship. But now Aonung pointed it out, was even jealous of Neteyam himself, you have to wonder if there ever was more between you and the prince of the Omotikaya.

Then the Sully's had left for a bit to the reef, and when Neteyam came back, you had both grown. Even without any spoken elements of romance between the two of you, the obvious fact that both of you had had several if not many sexual and romantic experiences with others just seemed strange for a friendship forged in childhood.

You lower your beading and look up at him to find those golden eyes are fixed straight in your own, bright in the afternoon light filtering into your kelku from the gap in the weaving he left slightly ajar, his lips slightly parted as he tries to decide what to say. Fuck. No. Okay so maybe Aonung is getting in your head. Maybe Aonung is opening your eyes, because now Neteyam just looks... different.

Since the reef, Neteyam has gotten more muscular, more than the typical Omotikaya yet without the broad physique of Aonung. It's probably all the swimming or the diet of tropical fruits and fish or something, you suppose, but why did you never notice how he's just so... attractive, with his blazing golden eyes and smooth handsome features.

Sure, all you'd heard from other girls for years was how Neteyam was so handsome and hot and strong and a good lover, but that had all just been silliness because Neteyam was your friend nothing more, to either of you.

"Can I help you with something?" you ask, swallowing heavily, horribly aware that you had just spaced out and stared blankly at him for way too long.

"Are you okay?" he asks, frowning and moving closer to you, setting down a pile of stuff so he can get a better look at you. "You're acting weird."

"Am I?" you ask nervously, swallowing hard and blinking way too much. 

"Yes," Neteyam says slowly, crouching beside you and frowning deeper. "You've been in your kelku for days, you haven't seen anyone, talked to anyone, and everyone was starting to get worried. I was getting worried about you Rey."

His nickname for you, shortened from Reypaytun and meaning blood red, was one of the first things you ever shared with him as your first friend among the Omotikaya. It was a fond name he chose given the blood red war paint favoured by the Tayrangi that you never got the chance to wear, and ever since he called you Rey, the little warrior, the last Tayrangi.

He seems to notice the way you pause at the nickname Rey as a flood of memories from your childhood washes over you, and he places a comforting hand on your leg, saying, "It's me. You can tell me if something's going on. Is it Aonung?"

The sound of Aonung's name snaps you back. The one you've been having all these strange feelings for, the one that mentioned Neteyam having feelings for you. You swallow hotly again, and Neteyam frowns. Again.

"Yes," you say quietly. Instantly, he coldens, scowling and hissing protectively.

"Did he hurt you? You looked a little bruised but I didn't say anything because I thought maybe you-"

"No there's nothing wrong like that," you say quickly. "Aonung didn't hurt me, not at all. He's been... well I've been... um..."

Neteyam sighs, his ears drooping slightly as understanding dawns on his face, his hand sliding off your leg and dropping towards the ground. The absense of his touch feels like a sign, like your friend is slipping away just as his hand had. That the two of you are growing even further apart than ever.

"I know Rey," he says gently. "I mean, it was pretty fucking obvious from the start that he liked you. I tried to tell him that it wouldn't end well, that you never let anyone get close, but you proved me wrong like usual."

"What do you mean?" you ask quietly, your tail sweeping behind you. You miss your friend.

"For years I thought we were the only ones you'd let love you," he says, now looking slightly wistful. "I never thought it would be Aonung of all people that managed to get your heart, not when literally every guy ever is head over heels for you."

"You aren't," you point out, though even to yourself, your voice sounds unsure. "Right?" 

Neteyam doesn't reply, just smiling wistfully and sighing, his strong jaw clenching. You try to think of something to say, when the rest of his words clink into place in your brain, and you sit up quickly.

"What do you mean get my heart?" you ask sharply. "He hasn't- not-"

"Rey please," Neteyam says, not looking at you. "You literally let him cuddle you, take care of you, play with your hair. It goes beyond banter and pointless sex and you know it. You know it means more to him, and you know that it means more to you too."

You make to shake your head, but then you realise your body isn't moving, as though it refuses to say that Aonung means nothing. Fuck. 

"Fuck."

Neteyam laughs humourlessly as you sit up, face twisted in distress as the stupid damn truth of your friend's words sink in and you frown at him. Neteyam isn't looking at you, hiding his face from you, and your harboured suspicion that he's secretly laughing at you is immediately stomped out when you notice.

His ears are drooped all the way down, and his hands are lightly fiddling with his necklace. It's a small habit he only fell into when he was agitated or upset- you often found him fiddling with the beading of the traditional warrior necklace when he found expectations too much, when he got in trouble with his father, when he felt he wasn't enough.

"What's wrong Tey," you ask, lightly reaching out to touch your friend's head in a friendly pat. But it feels different now that you're both all grown up and grown apart- he feels too big, not like when you were inseparable children. 

Neteyam looks up, his face suddenly so large in your hand- no longer the adorably delighted childish face it once had been, now all chiselled and handsome and suddenly twisted with almost concealed, melancholy bitterness as he sighs and pulls away from you. It means something, that he pulled away.

"It's just weird," Neteyam says, with a poor attempt at a smile. "I always felt proud knowing that you let me close to you. That I could help you and protect you, that we would be so close forever. Then shit happened and I had to leave and we just grew apart slightly I guess. I just never thought that when we came back, Aonung would be the one to get you."

He swallows and looks away, obviously having said more than he meant to. You are about to reach out to your friend before remembering him pull away, his hand slipping away, his gaze somehow refusing to reach your own. But you're closer to understanding now more than ever, and being the ridiculously stubborn person you are, you can't just let it go now.

"What are you trying to say Tey?" you ask, frowning at him. "Aonung said... he said..."

"What?" Neteyam asks, now completely abandoning the pretence that he isn't annoyed and letting the confusing, uncalled for bitterness seep into his words. "What did your Aonung say about me?"

"That you..." you start to say, throat feeling dry under his suddenly blazing golden gaze. "He thought there was something going on between us."

With that, the last remaining light in Neteyam's face just snuffs itself out, and you feel your heart sink desperately. His tail stops flicking agitatedly behind him, thudding listless and dead on the floor behind him, his gaze dropping away somewhat as the fire in those blazing eyes dies, as though you put it out.

"I mean," you hastily say, trying to get him back to normal. It makes your heart ache in a terrible, painful sort of way to see Neteyam look so doleful and betrayed, makes your whole body shiver at the thought that you made the prince of the clan look so broken. "He thought you maybe liked me. But I told him- you only see me as a friend and I-"

"It's fine Rey," he says quietly, not meeting your gaze. "I get it."

"No!" you practically cry. "I don't even know what I'm trying to say- please stop! You don't need to get anything, Aonung was just being stupid and I don't even know what's going on."

"He wasn't stupid," Neteyam says quietly.

"What?"

"He wasn't stupid," Neteyam snaps, standing to leave. "He was right."

"About what?" you breathe, heart hammering uncomfortably in your chest. You know exactly what Neteyam is going to say next- but it just can't be true.

"That I liked you. Like you," he says angrily, taking a deep breath before rushing his next words. "But I know that you see me as a friend, and that you have your whole fucked up thing with Aonung going on."

You exhale shakily, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment and trying to think of what to say. When you open them again, Neteyam's blazing eyes are filled with fiery possessiveness again. It's everything you've always marked as friendship that is so clear in his gaze now, and you swallow heavily when he steps closer.

"But I know you Rey," he whispers, suddenly towering over you as he steps closer. "And I could be better than Aonung."

At that, you freeze. This is Neteyam, your friend Neteyam, the most desired man in the clan, the prince of the Omotikaya standing over you, blinking down at you with his large golden eyes and telling you he's better than the other boy you fuck, who's also his friend. What. The. Fuck. 

"What are you saying?" you whisper, hating how squeaky your voice sounds.

"Let me prove myself," Neteyam shrugs, now just a foot away.

You mouth wordlessly. On one hand, all you've heard for years is Neteyam's incredible talent with women, his amazing looks and bravery and size working wonders for every girl in the clan, but then again, Aonung was also completely and utterly satisfying and hot and muscular in himself. You aren't tied down though. Just because you had been having a good time with Aonung didn't mean you couldn't with anyone else.

But your friendship might not last with Neteyam if you took this step. Yet then again, it's already changed, even more so now he's told you he likes you, absolutely now he's offering what he's offering.

It seems a little as though he's stepping on Aonung's toes- along the same lines of impressing you, proving himself yadayadayada, but as you meet Neteyam's gaze, you can't seem to find a problem with anything.

He's staring down at you, inches away from your lips yet still a foot taller, blazing golden eyes staring straight into your own.

fuck.

#aonung x reader #aonung x female reader #aonung fic #avatar smut #aonung fanfiction #avatar fanfiction #avatar #avatar fandom #avatar the way of water #aonung #neteyam #neteyam smut #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar neteyam #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x reader x aonung #threesome?

[confiscatedpeaches]

Bratty Reader Tries to Dominate William Afton, and Fails (W. Afton x Bratty!Reader)

Minors DNI, Reader is assumed to be 18+

TW: BDSM, age difference (William is pushing 40, reader is early to mid 20s), d/s dynamic, use of Daddy in a sexual context, spanking, humiliation, degradation

Huffing, you puff out your cheeks and cross your arms like a little cartoon character. This pushes up your chest, making your breasts more prominent. Nipples peeking through your shirt, William can't help but notice your adorable delicate form. The form of his little bratty bunny.

"How come you're always on top Mr. Afton? I wanna try being the dom."

Laughing, he shakes his head. Really, to think you could challenge him was a joke.

"Absolutely not, you're pushing your luck love."

You somehow cross your arms even harder, before uncrossing them and spinning around in a dramatic manner.

"Aww really? C'mon Mr. Afton, admit it, you're afraid of letting me take control." You tease.

"Pfft Hah! Scared? Of what? You? Don't make me laugh."

Pacing away from him, you grab a whip from the wall, holding it out like a dagger pointed at his chest.

"Get on your knees Daddy!" You demand.

He crosses his arms and laughs, his head tilting back.

"Aw, you really think I'm gonna listen to you love? Remember who's in charge of who here."

He walks up to you. Looking down and deep into your eyes, his head tilts to the side, as if he's analyzing and predicting your next move. You love it when he obsesses over you like this. His little bunny is misbehaving, and he's going to figure out why. The gears in that smart mind of his are turning with filthy punishment ideas. Playfully, you smack him on the shoulder with the whip.

"Do as I say."

His mouth stretches into a wide toothy grin.

"Or what? You'll punish me little bunny?"

Before you can respond, he lunges forward and grabs your wrist, spinning you into a tight embrace. Surprised, the whip slips from your hands. You wriggle against him, but he doesn't let go. Laughing at this, he leans close against your ear. The hair on the back of your neck stands up as his breath hits you and his lips brush against the lobe of your ear. Wetness pools inside your panties. Fully aware of the effect he's having on you, he laughs.

"I think the only one getting punished tonight is you."

Shoving you forward towards the bed, his hands catch your hips. Instinctively your hands shoot in front of you, catching your fall. He pulls you back by your hips until you feel his erection against you through his pants. Hands grab at your panties, pulling them aside in a swift and well practiced movement. Rolling onto your back, you grab the cat o' nine tails whip that he left on the bedside table. Without even thinking, you slap him with it. Hard.

….uh oh..

His smile drops and his face flushes pink, revealing the newly created white marks on his cheek. You honestly didn't mean to hit him that hard.

"Bunny."

Oh no, this was serious.

"Mr. Afton I am so sorry, I didn't mean to hit you that hard please forgive me! It really was an accident please-"

His hand wraps around your mouth, shutting you up. His cold grey eyes stare into you. His scowl deepening as he spoke. The realization that you really fucked up hits you.

"Begging isn't going to get you out of this one little bunny."

He shifts his weight on top of you until you are firmly pinned beneath him. He lets go of your mouth before turning and sliding open the bedside table drawer. Your lips part as he pulls out a length of red silk rope.

"Now, be a good girl and hold still for me."

Roughly, he yanks your arms above your head. Swiftly and precisely he begins tying your wrists together using one end of the rope. Tightly, very tight. Oh dear, you definitely fucked up this time. Partially out of fear, and partially out of arousal, you keep still for him.

Once he's pleased with how well secured the knots are, he pauses to look down at you. God, he looked like heaven from down below. His mouth blossomed into a sly grin. He loves looking down at you like this, his poor little bunny who pushed him a little too far this time. So small and pathetic beneath him. His eyes jumped around your face; from your plump lips to your wide doe eyes. The panic and desperation in your eyes made his cock twitch.

"Open your mouth, love."

You hesitate, causing your plush lips to close slightly.

Annoyed at your reluctance, his hand moves to your face. His fingers prying your lips open, sliding in between your teeth.

"I said, open your mouth."

You allow his fingers to open up your jaw fully. Hot air leaves your gaping mouth. He gathers up saliva in his mouth. Parting his lips, a large glob of spit drips down into your open mouth. By the time it reaches you it's cold and tastes like cigarettes. It's disgusting and deeply degrading.

You make a face. He tut-tuts you for this. Can't act all fussy and princess-like. Not after you've been so bad for your Sir Mr. Afton.

"Good bunnies get soft warm kisses, naughty little bunnies get cold hard spit. You know the rules, don't act all prim and proper"

Truthfully, you did know the rules, but it's so much fun to disobey him. He pulls away from you, one end of the rope in hand. Once he's far enough, he tugs... hard.

Your arms shoot towards him, your torso soon following after. Collapsing, your knees hit the floor. He moves further away, pulling you along with him. How he loved to drag you around like this. His naughty little girl, stuck following him around like his very own personal pet.

"Aww what's the matter? Don't enjoy being dragged around and played with bunny? Too bad!"

Making his way back to the bed, he sits on the edge of the mattress. He grabs further onto the rope and pulls you close. Forcefully bending you over his lap. He places his hand on the back of your neck, holding you down. Your hair falls over your face and the blood starts to rush to your head from the position you're in. Pulling up your skirt, his warm calloused hands brush against your bare ass. You feel something cold and hard on his fingers.

"Wait, you're wearing your rings Mr. Afton!"

He laughs.

"You're right bunny, I am wearing my rings." He teased, and made no motion or effort to take them off.

This was going to hurt, big time.

He lifts his hand before striking. You cry out once it makes contact. He smacks you once, twice, then three times, your ass becoming more raw and tender with each strike.

"Oh you like that doll? I bet you're loving this, naughty slut."

Ruthlessly he continues assaulting your tender behind. Tears well up in the corners of your eyes from the pain.

"Mr. Afton, please I'm sorry..." You manage between cries.

"Oh? You're sorry? Look everyone! The little whore is sorry!" He laughs.

The spanking continues without hesitation. Pain shooting through you.

"Please... please I am sorry Mr. Afton... please I'll do anything please.." You beg.

He pauses. Relief washes over you. He gently caresses your sore spots with the back of his hand. The cool chill of the rings bringing much needed comfort after the pain they just inflicted. You coo instinctively.

"Really~? Anything~?" He sing-songs.

"Yes," You whisper.

"Anything... Mr. Afton... please."

He giggles to himself, pleased with how easy it was to unravel you. Breaking you was always sooo easy, once the right pressure was applied.

"Then get on your knees and repeat after me love."

Letting go of your head, he lets you roll onto the floor. You quickly scramble to your knees in front of him. Placing your hands onto your lap. His hand meets your chin, tilting it up to look at him. Once your eyes meet his, he smiles sweetly. There is a slight darkness to his eyes however, as if he seems to find it amusing how pathetic you must look right now. The bulge in his pants appears to find you very amusing.

"Say... 'I am sorry for challenging our roles Mr. Afton, I have been a bad, naughty, no-good little bunny, and I promise to make it up to you Sir.'" The words rolling out of his lips like a well practiced mantra.

Unintentionally, you let out a shaky sigh out of pure embarrassment. Cheeks flushing almost as red as the growing welts on your ass. He tilts his head.

"Bunny. Are you seriously going to piss me off even further by refusing?"

"No Sir! I... I am sorry for challenging our roles Mr. Afton."

His eyes light up with pleasure.

"I have been a bad, naughty, no-good little bunny, and...."

You swallow.

"....I promise to make it up to you Sir.'"

His hand reaches up to pat you on the head.

"Goood bunny. See, that wasn't so hard now was it? Now, let's continue to put that lovely mouth to use."

He points to the growing tent in his pants.

"Lick at it, kiss it for me through the fabric. Show me how much you want to make it up to me."

You lean forward, tongue making contact with the dry warm fabric of his dress pants. The smell and taste of him is faintly present. Salty and hormonal. Lips gaping and rubbing against his heat, desperate for more. A satisfied groan escapes him. Your cheeks flush harder. Look at you, begging and pleading Mr. Afton with your lips and tongue. A desperate, filthy, and horny little slut just for him.

His hands unbuckle his belt. Pushing the hem of his pants down, he pulls out his cock. The head brushes against your cheek, then lips. You stick out your tongue, playfully licking his slit. Slowly you take in his head. Sucking further you feel his length against the roof of your mouth and then back of your throat until you've reached the base. His sweet precum coating your tongue in the process. The bottom of you lip brushes against his scrotum.

He places a hand on the back of your head, encouraging you to begin bobbing up and down. Rhythmically, you caress his length with your lips and tongue. His cock throbs against you. Hips begin tilting and pushing up almost involuntarily.

He huffs and puffs, orgasm building within him. You can tell how much he's been waiting for this release. How he's been waiting all day for his little one to relieve him. You love pleasing him like this. Knowing only you get the honor of swallowing him and his seed.

He pushes further into you, almost making you gag when his tip hits the back of your throat. A hot sticky release flows into you, and you have no choice but to gulp all of it down. The heat of him drips down and melts into your core.

Once he's finally empty, he slowly pulls you off of him.

"Hmmph, that's much better behavior bunny. Don't you agree?"

#william afton x reader #william afton smut

[nemastraea]

Doormat extraordinaire: Andrew Graves is down horrendous for his own sister | Part 1

Or as I like to call it, actual literal word vomit attempting a proper character analysis!

Here's a link to the AO3 version for archive purposes: The doormat extraordinaire has a bit of a romantic streak,

Content warning: This will heavily feature spoilers from Episodes 1 & 2 of The Coffin of Andy and Leyley. Trigger warning: Abuse, cannibalism, child neglect, codependency, harassment, incest, murder, self-harm, and suicide. Disclaimer: I will occasionally reference an extremely normal essay from Sufficient Velocity commenter Leyleyfication (here). It would be a lot easier to read this essay first as Leyleyfication does a pretty good job establishing the following: - Ashley is dependent on Andrew to assure and validate her of her own insecurities, and - The game heavily implies that Andrew wants to fuck his own sister.

Anyway: The Coffin of Andy and Leyley! A game in early access where a pair of siblings are stuck through a seemingly never-ending quarantine together, desperate not to starve to death. When their cultist neighbor dies in a ritual gone wrong, they rationally resort to cannibalism. Fun!

I am definitely going to assume that you read Leyleyfication's extremely normal essay (I am on my knees, begging you to read that). Which is why this essay immediately starts with, "yeah, Andrew definitely wants to fuck his sister" as its baseline.

What I will be adding to that funny little cauldron of fucked up sibling dynamics in a horror visual novel are the following: Andrew's fixation and sexual attraction manifests as his desire to control, dominate, and possess Ashley. And it is framed as a fatalist attraction and the totality of his existence (for worse or even worse).

Because of Tumblr's limit for 30 images per post, though, I'm going to have to split this extremely normal and reasonably lengthy essay into... multiple posts! Yeah! I have no idea how long this will fucking go!

So first things first: how can we tell that Andrew is even attracted to Ashley in the first place?

Nemlei (Devlog 05). Note the hickeys above and below Ashley's choker and her left inner thigh, and Andrew's left hand creeping into her right thigh.

As Leyleyfication points out, the game primes us to believe that Andrew is a pushover and Ashley is his abuser. This occurs in the Steam page as it explicitly says Ashley is "in fact, very bad" and Andrew is a "doormat extraordinaire." Moreover, it's very easy to tell that Ashley is, on some degree, obsessed with Andrew:

She's happy to hear that Julia broke up with Andrew over the phone;

She repeatedly accuses him of finding the Lady from Room 302 attractive and he 'tried anything with her;' and

Her flashback to wanting to punish her friend Nina ("the Bitch in the Box") for crushing on Andrew.

Episode 1, dream and memory. Leyley previously said that Nina should know better than to 'steal from another woman,' referring to herself. The implication that Andy is hers is toyed with after this moment, when she says she'd put Andy back in the box.

The game does prime us to think that Ashley is Andrew's abuser. It also suggests that Ashley projects an unrequited and incestuous love onto Andrew. Before we consider Episode 2's narrative, Episode 1 gives the initial impression that if Andrew comes to reciprocate her feelings, it's more of a reaction and subsuming to her will. That it may not be something he wants for himself and independent of Ashley's manipulation.

But again, I do believe Andrew wants to fuck Ashley. And always has been. He just frequently vacillate between 'subtle' and 'really fucking obvious' tells that completely take advantage of the game's third person limited POV.

Keep in mind that both Andrew and Ashley are extremely unreliable narrators. We aren't going to get information they personally do not care about and that is on top of our own choices as the player.

(A digressive example: you will not learn that the founder and CEO of Toxisoda's company was a former surgeon unless you interact with the television in Andrew's Episode 2 dream and memory of their blood oath. Otherwise, it neatly ties into the surgeon that Mrs. Graves conveniently says she was directed to regarding the siblings' quarantine in the main story.)

When it's really fucking obvious

When you play as Andrew in Episode 2, his post-dinner argument with Ashley carefully frames them both. They are cramped in the foreground and Andrew's left arm is conveniently blocked by Ashley and the kitchen knife, as seen here.

Episode 2, common route. Prior to this, you can interact with Mrs. Graves for her to pointedly comment on the siblings being inseparable.

At this point in the game, their physical closeness is something we're used to by now. After all, we've already seen Ashley on his lap at least twice; Andrew slept in her bed in Episode 1; and Ashley confirmed they've shared the same motel bed multiple times in the one-week interim between Episodes 1 & 2.

But the game abruptly shifts to Mrs. Graves' POV when she enters the scene and not only do we see the two as physically close, but we notice a few more details.

Episode 2, common route. The first picture transitions from Andrew's POV to Mrs. Graves as it introduces us to her entering the scene.

The contrast of how spacious the kitchen is from Mrs. Graves' POV to Andrew's cramped POV is obvious. More importantly, Andrew's fingers loop through Ashley's belt loops when the two are huddled together. When Mrs. Graves clears her throat, the two don't really separate.

Ashley pivots on her left foot so that her body is turned to their mother, not Andrew, but she doesn't step away from him. Andrew, meanwhile, recoils from Ashley and withdraws his hand. But he isn't turning his body to face their mother like Ashley does here. His attention, at least in this moment, is still towards Ashley (and, yanno, the sink).

Episode 2, common route. Two things to consider in the second picture: Andrew hides Ashley's bite mark on his cheek with his left sleeve and he conveniently moves the pillow from behind him to his front.

The 'tell' isn't so much as the two are unusually physically close. Again, we're used to that by now. But it's how the two siblings react whenever Mrs. Graves comes into the picture. Ashley doesn't really give a fuck about whether or not people assume the worst of her or even her intentions regarding Andrew. To Ashley, their proximity is normal and anyone who sees that as a problem is not worth an explanation or reason.

But Andrew is at least subconsciously aware it's 'not normal.' As far as these moments are concerned, Andrew instinctively tries to do damage control by either putting space between them or keeping his hands occupied so they aren't visibly touching Ashley. Still, he either does not mind or actively appreciates his physical closeness with Ashley.

When it's really fucking obvious (but only in hindsight)

In Episode 1, Ashley passes out after trying to clean up after the apartment. Regardless of her passing out in the living room, the bathroom, or their parents' room, she will wake up on the couch with her head pillowed by Andrew's lap.

Episode 1, Ashley's POV. Andrew's hands often hover over Ashley's head, but more than that—

I personally didn't notice this until I replayed Episode 1, when I basically have the hindsight of Andrew's fixation with hair. But yes, his fingers idly twirl through the ends of Ashley's hair as they watch TV. It's implied that Andrew can and will do this when Ashley pillows his lap, awake or asleep. He does not recoil from it when Ashley does wake up and later on, in Episode 2, even continues to brush it from her face.

Episode 2, common route. Ashley fell asleep at the passenger seat, so Andrew had to have transferred her to the back seat to pillow her head again. Though, technically, she's more cramped at the back seat than if he'd just reclined the passenger seat.

So far, we've seen that Andrew has a natural tendency to not only be physically close to Ashley, but to hover over her personal space and be in constant and direct contact with her. Whether it's by having her head on his lap, twirling her hair through his fingers, or even constantly grabbing her by the head in various states of comfort, playfulness, or outright threat (but let's put a pin on that for now).

The weight behind this candid contact shifts when Episode 2 draws a pretty explicit parallel between Julia and Ashley. Assuming that you interacted with Julia's landline and heard Ashley's voicemails, you know (and Andrew knows) that Ashley draws that connection herself:

DO YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME!? Just because you can fuck him and I can't? You think that's love?! Are you fucking delusional?? Cumdumpsters like you are just that. He will never love you. Not like he loves me. I am the only one. I am everything. I am the secrets you'll never hear. When he lies in bed at night, and when he needs someone to hold on to... It's not you he seeks out. It is me.

Episode 2, common route. Andrew's dream and vision implies that Andrew's heard these voicemails before.

That connection extends to the hair contact as well, as Andrew goes in to hug Julia, cards his hand through her hair and requests she tie her hair up.

Episode 2, common route. Andrew's dream and memory of Julia when they're older. From the use of Andrew's present-age portrait, suggests is closer to the timeline of the game's events than his and Ashley's memories as Andy and Leyley.

From this moment, we can have one of two assumptions: either Andrew wants Julia's (black) hair put up like Ashley's, or Ashley caught onto Andrew's hair kink and puts her hair up to imitate it.

Regardless, we infer the following:

Andrew teases affection through touching and even pulling on one's hair.

His fixation on ponytails and pulling on them does not exclude his own sister. It still stands and without reservation, perhaps more explicitly since he can do it so candidly, as we saw before.

The last of that Julia-Ashley parallel is self-contained within Episode 2. But only if you end up in the Burial route regardless of Ashley's platonic or incestuous vision.

Episode 2, common route (first picture) and Burial route (second picture). It's worth pointing out that Andrew is actually disinterested and moody during his conversation with Julia, and only perks up when he mentions Ashley or feigns care for Julia (since he extends his care of Ashley to her as well).

The game ends up drawing parallels on how Andrew treats Ashley, for better or for worse, with his ex (which is definitely worse, poor Julia). In doing so, the game blurs the lines between romantic affection for Julia and 'platonic and familial' affection for Ashley.

Y'all, this isn't even getting into how Andrew respectfully gives his parents space and only crowds them when he threatens them with his cleaver. In his mind, Ashley and Julia are in that same space of physical and romantic displays of affection; something he reserves only for them (only without reservation for Ashley) that does not extend to anyone else. His ex-girlfriend, and his sister. Shit's wild.

When it's obvious BUT it's violent!

That isn't to say that his hair fixation (hair kink?) is completely innocuous, though, as it rears its ugly head (pun unintended) in Decay. Which is what that previous pin was for! Yay!

You end up in the Decay route if Ashley doesn't trust Andrew with keeping an eye on their parents. Here, Ashley sleeps on their parents' bed by herself and has an alarming vision: an unknown party chases after her through the in-between and when they catch up to her, it's Andrew. Ashley has nowhere to run and Andrew eventually grabs her and threatens to kill her.

Whether or not Ashley can defend herself depends on Andrew expending all of her gun's ammo when he deals with the hitman, or not. But that outcome divergence will matter much, much later (so that's another pin for us to come back to).

The sequence of events actually mirrors the way the siblings ambush the Lady from Room 302 back in Episode 1. There, Andrew closes in on her and grabs the Lady by her wrist and uses his front to pin and restrain her. With his cleaver to her throat, the Lady is completely at his mercy.

Episode 1 & 2, common route (first picture) and Decay route (second, third, and fourth pictures). Note that Andrew restrains the Lady from Room 302 by the wrist while with Ashley, by her hair.

Andrew asserts control of the person and the situation through violence. Whether it's by killing them (the wardens) or by threatening physical violence (the Lady from Room 302 and Ashley). It's always on the table for him. As Leyleyfication puts it, "He's so calculated in how he approaches his use of violence [here]."

That violence includes Ashley. It's always on the table where Ashley's concerned. The game even juxtaposes when Andrew threatens violence and physical assault 'playfully' versus when he's seriously out for blood:

When you interact with the wall of call girls' numbers and Ashley jokes about leaving her number on the wall, Andrew 'jokingly' threatens to backhand her for even thinking about it.

When you interact with their parents' latched window for a second time, Andrew 'teases' slapping Ashley if she doesn't find a way to open it. (Ashley jokingly asks if it's on her ass or at her face, and assumes it must be the face when Andrew says she'll have to find out.)

The two other times that Andrew exerts violence against Ashley are both in Episode 1 & 2. We can remember when that happens in Episode 1, when Andrew's had it with Ashley's fits and threatens to kill her:

Episode 1, common route. Y'all, Andrew was choking her hard enough for his grip to bruise.

It happens again in Decay when he confronts Ashley about repeatedly calling him Andy and therefore, breaking the promise he coerced her into from Episode 1.

Episode 2, Decay route. Another thing to keep in mind is that Andrew's outburst is preceded by Ashley prodding him about his current state and insisting that Andrew was fine with 'Andy' during their home invasion.

In Episode 1, Andrew resorts to harming Ashley because he's fucking had it with her accusing him repeatedly of trying anything with the Lady from 302 and, in her eyes, his 'infidelity.' Where she accuses Andrew of not loving her enough that if his eye catches another girl, he'd leave her behind or flip on her. In Episode 2, she's poking and prodding on his boundaries on 'Andy' and whether or not, once again, he's with her on their now-committed life of joint crime.

If I can give another example, it happens in Andrew's common route memory of Nina's death and his blood oath with Leyley.

Episode 2, common route. Prior to this, Andy expresses immense exasperation at Leyley's tantrums over him 'thinking about that bitch again.' When he goes to grab the kitchen knife, cleans it, and returns to Leyley on his bed—he's briefly considering killing her.

Andrew threatens Ashley violently whenever he intends to confront her on her perceived brattiness, for lack of a better word. And keep Leyleyfication's essay segment on Ashley's insecurities and need for Andrew's validation in mind here—when Ashley does this, she wants and even needs Andrew to comfort her. But her aggression treads Andrew's patience and really, his tolerance of her behavior.

When Ashley's anger, clinging behavior, insecurities, and possessiveness of Andrew slips his control and tolerance, he resorts to violence to coerce or even dominate her.

I think (or hope, if it's clear enough) it reinforces what Leyleyfication points out:

The truth of the matter is, Ashley can only make Andrew do anything because he lets her. I don't mean in the sense that I'm saying abuse victims let their abusers emotionally abuse them, I mean in the sense that he is clearly considering his options on the table and choosing to discard those that could stop her, or bring an end to any of this.

It also reflects on another aspect of why Andrew resorts to violence: in all three situations, Andrew remarks on Ashley's behavior and her sake. If she acts up again once they're out of the apartment, it'll cause trouble for him while they're evading authorities. If she's going to call him Andy from hereon out, what's the point of running away with her. If she expects him to leverage keeping 'her secret,' he won't because it's for her sake.

Andrew rationalizes his attempt to control of Ashley's behavior as being for her sake. But really, isn't it him confining her behavior to something he can tolerate and personally handle?

I'd also like to point out that Andrew admits that he noticed Ashley push for calling him 'Andy' during the home invasion, and he did not argue with her on it while they held their parents hostage and readied to sacrifice them. We can infer that when Andrew calculates his use of violence, that can also factor when, where, and how he exerts it.

--

Well, that's where I can reasonably end this half of my word vomit! Now, onwards, to part 2!

#lia's conspiracy board #The Coffin of Andy and Leyley #TCOAAL: Andrew Graves #TCOAAL: Ashley Graves #ship: coffincest #character analysis

[onepiece-polls]

One Piece Shipping War - Grand Finale!

Propaganda under the cut.

Propaganda for Franky x Robin:

Do I really need to explain?

The old married couple who's healthy, Enies Lobby (and all their appearances) are their propaganda really.

It’s all about the maturity!

Their dynamic is perfect and their pasts are so similar. I love the chemistry between them as well as their introduction that helped build the connection and shared history they already have.

they are THE t4t bi4bi ship | franky telling robin "existing is not a crime" immediately puts this at number one for me | they are opposites (bright and loud + quiet and goth) but also they're both so eccentric and silly <3 | THEY WEAR MATCHING OUTFITS

Mom and dad Straw Hat

They are STILL the Mom and the Dad of the Straw Hats, this is the one thing I don't care what Oda says <3 Also their interactions in Enies Lobby and Thriller Bark are amazing.

In my eyes, they are married. Some of my favorite character interactions in the manga/anime and in official art.

Oda had Franky call Robin his wife at least once

Your honor they’re married

I'M GOING TO PUT LINKS IN MY EXAMPLES (Mod note: I linked to the whole post, the propaganda was going to get too long otherwise. But I will copy this line:...) They immediatly clicked in Enies Lobby, Franky saved Robin with both words and actions ("Your existence is not a sin!"), and then she grabbed his balls.

The duality of two kids who were just trying to chase their dream and having circumstances outside their control (the government) take everything they love away from them, but one choosing solitude and the other adopting every other person in a bad circumstance??? I love them. Plus they literally had couple moments from the first interaction.

The ultimate t4t couple idk what else you need theyre iconic

A wholesome ship of a woman who feels the need to be constantly on edge trying to relax and a man who is a 110% himself from the moment we see him. the joy of frobin is the causal domesticity, in many color spreads and especially post timeskip we can see them casually enjoying the others company.

Remember when Franky was in Chopper's body in Punk Hazard and every time he spoke Robin was like "Franky. Stop talking. Do not talk while you're in Chopper's body."

idk like. he's obsessed with her. she's his weird Goth gf and he's her himbo. they have matching outfits. I love them.

Look. It's Franky and Robin. Literally the only two characters that make sense to ship on the Sunny. Their arcs are inextricably intertwined (water7/enies lobby). Also LOOK AT THEM interacting, both during their arcs, but also thriller bark, or post time skip. I love them. Also robin crushed frankys balls.

funny big robot man & analytical smart research lady power couple... silly x smart... himbo x researcher... augh... so good

They are the ship for taxpaying adults your honor I LOVE them they’re literally freak4freak and they share such a fucking powerful arc together (Water 7).

that moment she let him sleep on her lap in punk hazard was sooo cute <3 -- The matching thigh highs and bottoms in film z can NOT be understated. -- Strawhat mom and dad -- Let's not forget the way robin convinced franky to join ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) -- she also indirectly called his balls "treasure" so,,, -- the way their stories are so closely intertwined...they were both keys to destroy the world...the way they instantly connected over that...the soulmate-ism of it all...

they . them. girlboss and malewife. that's it.

She grabbed his balls. He totally liked it.

He's so silly and she loves it. She's so scary and he loves it. She grabbed his balls in public.

They will be endgame trust me. Franky doesn't treat any other girl like he treats Robin. There dynamic in Water 7 and Thriller Bark was and always will be one of the best in all of OP.

Propaganda for Nami x Vivi:

Yes, Nami has a new girlfriend on every island, but her heart belongs to Vivi. Vivi in turn refuses to marry, because her heart belongs with a pirate ❤

THEY’RE LESBIANS! IN LOVE! another point: my friends who are watching OP for the first time came to me and asked “so Nami and Vivi… they’re gay right?” So it’s pretty apparent to even newcomers

I just think they’re neat! And in love. Nami gave up money for Vivi that’s True Love

Anyone who saw them can just tell they’re gay. Like Nami gave up money for her

They're one of the rare lesbian ships in op, they care for each other so much !!

Lesbians

Lesbians

They were so gay that Luffy offered to share food to cheer Nami up when they were separated.

i dare you to read Baroque Works through Alabasta without shipping them. the way Vivi and Nami are so affectionate with each other, and Vivi putting saving her nation on hold to get Nami healthy again ???

Lesbians

Let’s go lesbians!!!!! Ok but actually, I think Nami saw a lot of herself in Vivi (ha) especially when Igaram “died” and then throughout their journey together Nami really encouraged her to open up to the crew. Nami showed Vivi it was ok to ask for help just like Luffy showed her.

Vivi was Nami's gay awakening and you cant change my mind. Nami was in love with Vivi and Vivi def had some kind of feeling for Nami. They were so close and they were more then just 'gal pals'

Lesbian Pirate Supremacy! they clearly care a lot about each other and considering when nami meets vivi she is probably one of the first close female friends she gets to have.

#one piece #frobin #NaVi #namivivi #op shipping war #grand finale #tournament poll

[ancientbygone]

simulacra 3 [take me back to eden]

[sundowning]

Sleep's mimic forms of the vessels during the time period of TMBTE, because i can't be normal and start a series from the beginning and not the end.

more info + design breakdowns under the cut:

[obligatory "when talking about the vessels, i'm talking about characters" disclaimer]

background info on the whole idea:

Sleep as a being is shapeless in my mind; more of a concept than a creature. it can manifest as sort of an absence of light in any shape to others, usually to appeal to feeling/emotion. the only "rule" for that is that whatever Sleep tries to appear as cannot look more or less innocent/powerful than Sleep actually is, which usually manifests in two things: the size being different from the thing/person it's imitating, scaled according to power, and/or added features, usually in some way threatening or regal.

one of Sleep's more consistent forms it takes throughout interacting with Vessel is mimicking him, partially to create an illusion of the two being more similar than they actually are and partially because Sleep used to exist as Vessel's shadow when they'd just met. the visual itself has changed through time (you can see what it was like during Sundowning in my Higher artwork), and during TMBTE that visual is pretty much the titular song's character with the most minor tweaks (which is why i didn't draw it separately).

all that made me think about the idea of Sleep mimicking the other vessels just to fuck with Vessel further (to be clear, i am a strong believer that Sleep only interacts with Vessel in any way). so now here are the designs of those mimics during the events of TMBTE, utilizing the album's song characters much like the Vessel mimic. because again, i have to start a series from the end, i guess.

"ii"/ii mimic (song character used: AYROK)

the main idea driving the design of "ii" is the real ii's goal to keep Vessel more or less safe by being by his side in worshipping Sleep, which is the reason he'd decided to become the second vessel in the first place. the choice of AYROK as the character to use in this design is obvious. one of the ideas that stem from that is ii's duty/desire to keep his face hidden for Vessel's sake; only his hands are visible & detailed because that's the only part of him Vessel remembers before either of them became vessels of Sleep and the only part ii has really shown after that. another is ii's timidity in telling Vessel to go against Sleep's will because he fears that no matter how bad it may be, it'll be much worse if Vessel doesn't follow it. that part comes through in the pose - shyly holding his hands together as if they're tied.

"iii"/iii mimic (song character used: Aqua Regia)

the song character inspo being Aqua Regia is mostly because of the calmer nature of the song and the dynamic duo it makes with Vore, less so the themes of the lyrics. also its visual design. iii mimic's design themes are iii's adoration/borderline obsession with Vessel (wearing Vessel's jewelry and having elements of his robe in his shirt + his own face/mask slowly melting off) and his enagement with worship as an act/aesthetic rather than something more serious (the overabundance of jewelry and accessories; the extra arms; the body language; the cuffs around his arms and legs being decorative and not actually restricting). also the rings on his fingers make a checkered pattern.

"iv"/iv mimic (song character used: Vore)

the use of Vore for "iv" is obvious too. song wouldn't be the same without his real life self. the design really just aims to combine iv with the Vore character, but there are two big things here. the simplest one is anger issues, which is why he's So Goddamn Spiky and why his jacket looks like scarred skin rather than painted & customized. the anger mostly shows up in the body language: most of the time "iv" just stares unblinkingly with pure palpable ire in the two glowing dots for eyes, and when he does move it's very stiff and snappy and barely controlled. the other thing is that, simply speaking, the real iv got into this whole mess without knowing the full extent of it and now he's in too deep and kinda losing himself. in the design it's expressed through the human features gradually turning into bug-like, such as the hoodie fading into a segmented millipede-like body and the fucked up mantis hands, and the gold of the original iv's mask melting over the face with the horns being part of it. the spikes protrude from him in a way that makes it difficult to distinguish between jacket decorations and actual parts of his body, but the spines are definitely from his body & allow me to live the dream of iv with a mohawk LMAO

anyway have fun with these go nuts i'll make similar sheets & posts for Sundowning and TPWBYT eventually

#sleep token #sleep token art #sleep token ii #sleep token iii #sleep token iv #sleep token sleep #<- i cannot emphasize enough that ALL OF THESE ARE SLEEP IN DIFFERENT FORMS!!!!!! #IT'S ALL THE SAME BASTARD EXPLOITING VESSEL'S EMOTIONS IN DIFFERENT WAYS #take me back to eden #sleep token tmbte #bygone art #bygone talks #bygone writes #<- that's serious lore screw you /lhj #i was tired when i started writing it and i'm sleep deprived finishing it up #once again have fun if you draw any of these i would be more than thrilled please tag me in that

[292pantone]

Okay! Time for some Glass Onion analysis bc I'm already obsessed with this movie.

GLASS ONION SPOILERS AHEAD READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

I've seen people saying that it was unnecessary for the movie Glass Onion to be set in May 2020 during the height of the pandemic, and that it took away from the movie, but I disagree. The specific setting is relevant because of all the movie's subtext about the Black Lives Matter movement and its resurgence in May 2020. Hear me out- there are several parallels between Andi's death/Helen's avenging her death by wrecking the mansion, and the riots in 2020 following the unjust deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and many others.

To begin with, there's the power dynamic between Andi and Miles. A mediocre, unexceptional white man stole the contributions of a brilliant black woman and got away with it because his influential friends closed ranks around him in a system designed to benefit him. He got the benefit of the doubt and weaponized the legal system to financially ruin her. Even though she was telling the truth, no one believed her, and Miles fully expected this pattern to continue once her sister Helen took up the cause.

Miles burns the incriminating evidence of his lies and flat-out tells Helen that no one will ever believe her with only circumstantial evidence. Even Benoit Blanc acknowledges that his skill as a detective can only go so far without the police and courts on his side.

In the case of police brutality, cops similarly weaponize the legal system and avoid accountability for their murders by closing ranks through police unions that invoke "qualified immunity" (aka shielding the cops from legal liability). The privilege of white men, compounded by their wealth and connections, makes it difficult for them to face actual consequences for the harm they do.

We see the concept of avoiding consequences again with Miles' crew of "disruptors", all of whom rely on his money to bail them out of trouble. Birdie was implied to have done blackface, made tone-deaf comments comparing herself to Harriet Tubman, completely ignored all COVID restrictions, and tweeted ethnic slurs to the point where her assistant had to take away her phone, but her line of loungewear still takes off thanks to Miles' financial backing. In response to the latest scandal, personal assistant Peg says "We will do what we always do! Deny, half-apologize, then go silent awhile." Despite her litany of offenses and half-assed attempts at accountability, no consequences stick to the privileged Birdie either.

However, Helen refuses to accept this unfair state of things. In a situation where she appears powerless, with her sister gone and the valuable napkin burned, Helen essentially goes "fuck that" and makes Miles pay for what he did anyway. If the law won't take her side, she has to take it into her own hands. This is where the parallels to the 2020 riots come in.

We see her smashing the symbols of Miles' wealth, starting with his glass sculptures, and at first the other characters don't mind. They cheer her on from the couches, even though they all just refused to testify for her in court. This parallels the performative activism seen in many celebrities, who would rather watch from the sidelines and say vaguely supportive things rather than do any meaningful action to change the system. The other guests are happy to break the glass sculptures alongside her, saying how cathartic it feels, but they get antsy when she moves on to breaking more valuable things instead of giving up after a short while like they did. The camera shots of Helen smashing things and lighting a fire linger uncomfortably long as it starts to sink in that this isn't just a momentary temper tantrum. The so-called "disruptors" wince and gasp and exclaim how a piano belonged to Liberace and so on, completely ignoring how THE DESTRUCTION IS THE POINT, because if Helen only broke safe, acceptable targets, then it wouldn't actually mean anything. Similarly, when people rioted in 2020, there was a huge amount of pearl-clutching by people saying rioting is going too far, and can't we all just be nonviolent and have unity and forgive each other? In both cases, there's a veneer of support from people who just want the victims of injustice to "get their anger out of their systems" and move on without any serious changes being made.

I find it very fitting that Helen burns the Mona Lisa with Miles' own unregulated hydrogen fuel cell, using the override switch that he carelessly installed. She exploits the natural consequences of his self-centeredness so they all catch up to him at once. In the end, Helen's acts of protest do disrupt things and lead to change, even as people tell her she is going too far. Once Helen does the actual work of tanking Miles' reputation for good, only then do the "disruptors" jump ship and promise to back her up in court. They're willing to take the side of justice only when things have shifted to the point where it's the better act of self-preservation. If there was any chance of still hanging onto Miles' golden titty and making his reputation their hill to die on, they would've done it.

Blanc, the protagonist of the movie, gives Helen tacit permission to burn everything down by handing her the chunk of hydrogen fuel. He stands by her the whole movie and takes her seriously, demonstrating a path to better (non-performative) allyship.

Glass Onion shows that lasting change has to be demanded, not wheedled, and that sometimes things have to reach an undeniable crisis point to do so. In other words: protest is necessary.

#discussion #glass onion #knives out #glass onion analysis #black lives matter #knives out analysis #benoit blanc #miles bron