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#the long fic is still coming
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Relationship(s): Murtagh/Orrin
Summary: Yearning makes him careless, but five lonely, numbing years since returning war-torn to his throne have made caution lose its luster. Not everything he risks losing matters to him the way it once did, and exhaustion has worn away his strength to deny his heart what it yearns for. So Orrin escapes to find comfort in the touch of a stranger.
-What should be a stranger.
Word Count: 10,427
Warnings: Mentions of su*cidal thoughts, Implied nsfw content
A/N: HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE give it a chance, I swear there's a method to my madness! This ship is pure gold and I'll prove it. This premise for their first meeting has been in my head for years and years and it felt so good to finally polish it write it out.
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beescake · 3 months
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PLEASE PLEASE MEGADUMP THE ARASOL!!! PLEAAASEE MR BEESCAKE I AM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU
HFHGHD GLADLY aaa i’ve been adding notes to it here and there for months but just hesitant to post it bcs im 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂
also this is just my own takeaway of the events, it doesn’t necessarily comply to the Ultimate Truth of Canon-Alignment or represent the actual facts of what hussie intended! v sentimental smh but hopefully its still interesting to read
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i love when characters inform each other by proximity, it's one of my fave things to see in media :') it feels even more significant when two characters deliberately choose to stick together, so that when one operates, you can tell the other is similarly aligned in associative solidarity.
sollux is a keystone of this trope — whoever he aligns with is a wordless statement, a nod of approval. this stood out to me bcs the main four humans were alr friends by default, but once you reach hivebent you realize the trolls can actively choose who they want to hang out with.
and as we all know, after assessing every troll's biases/loyalties, sollux is the only one who maintains his selective preference for innately Good 👍 people.
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aradia is such a beautiful character honestly, she evokes such incredible feelings in me. she might not have been consistently written with care but the best parts of her character are truly stunning. i think it's easy to remember sollux as the self-sacrificing one bc he's so open about it (and his friends frequently react to his Moments) but when you compare him to aradia, it's always struck me
how much more. raw it is
to be so alone as an agent of time, having to orchestrate immeasurably harrowing events nobody understands or gives a fuck about
with your role painted in the story as one who must tend to the needs of the narrative, responsible to match every next note
because when you're given the capabilities, it becomes your duty to carry it out.
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it becomes expected of you to keep experimenting and arranging the machinations to work for everyone, dusting off hundreds of necessary failures to keep going
and having to be so unwavering in your drive knowing miserably that there's no one who can help you but yourself.
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or alternatively: to make things fun! so other people won't think twice about letting you go off on your own.
sure she's had some very good buds, notably thanks to Team Charge v Team Scourge antics.
and yet, at the end of the day, the one friend that kept choosing her time and time again was the friend with the highest standards.
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i can see why people like to define arasol as moirails/matesprits but surprisingly i find the nondescript, unlabeled aspect of their relationship more straightforward to understand.
there's no shortage of people who would accommodate sollux. most of the surviving trolls are his oldest friends bcs he’d chosen them well. his transparency with his feelings had built him strong friendships that won’t falter or break, regardless of how much of a dick he can be. they’ve already seen and accepted him at his worst, and they still like him for who he is.
contrast that with aradia, who'd been so approachable, friendly and reliable in her exchanges it was super fun to talk to her. but the moment she became depressed, all her connections broke down.
her friends became hesitant to interact with her (until she became god tier, “happy” and amicable again) because her gloom and resignation didn’t serve them. she dealt with it alone.
there’s def something of note here abt the disparity between the way male & female characters are written+perceived in homestuck (esp parallel arasol with davejade) but i won’t go into that lmaoo
with this in mind i like to think of sollux as a gift to her, a loyal companion given to complement and commend her resolve. she's capable of doing so much alone but hussie took the time to build her and sollux's relationship as one of a unit; a set.
the ambiguity of their status does complicate things, but i do believe it makes sense with their characters. aradia's relationship with romance is a rocky one, the dubious stringalong equius had with her is a pointed reminder that her feelings of attraction are ultimately controlled by the author writing her.
unlike the other trolls who can openly address and own up to their crushes, aradia had romantic emotions forced upon her (especially when hussie implies 'she kissed equius back on her own volition'). and it seems like her character is so intrinsically neutral abt attraction that even when forced by the almighty powers above, she's unable to retain it wholly.
however, looking back to pre-game when she could actually "choose" her own feelings, she did have a crush on sollux.
their soft spots for each other were so obvious to the point where other people could see it.
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taunting aside, when vriska comments on their unit as bf/gf it actually informs the audience that arasol's relationship is romantic in nature despite not aligning with the quadrant system.
even while dead, aradia could still describe her care for sollux, expressing that she would like to see him happy. if they had more time to explore their relationship on alternia, it's possible they could've settled in a quadrant once they grew older.
but going back to the lack of labels, their dynamic was affected once more when aradia became god tier.
to me, her ascension was both the perfect culmination and possible closure of her character. it's the light at the end of her journey toiling through countless of timelines where she had to actively assess and participate. that's why it's cool to see her being silly and having fun giving guidance, passively exploring and watching other people do their parts.
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and yet the joy of her freedom makes it hard to explore further introspection. if we take her by her word, she'd already come to terms with the hurt she's been through and forgiven those involved.
i can't help feeling attuned to how impersonal and detached it can be, to devote and meld your identity so completely with your designated position as Maid of Time until you've become hard for your old friends (and even some readers!) to personally connect to.
idk post-canon but i assume there’s some degree of similarity to be bridged here with aradia's god tier and how the hs2 humans' Ultimate forms was described as a consolidation of all their possibilities. since aradia's classpect is inherently of service to Time, going god-tier may have elevated her beyond personhood with the "game construct" possessing her entirely. sollux doesn't realize the extent of it bcs he's still mortal, but a part of him may have subconsciously understood this.
i think there is a core aspect to aradia that was lost to the dehumanizing glory of god tier — a core aspect that may have contained an element of why sollux enjoyed talking to her in the first place.
to him, aradia hadn't just been a nice girl, she was a cool girl. despite not having much in common, he's still willing to chill next to her so she's not alone while she does what needs to get done.
back on alternia, they held a mutual and equal-level regard for each other that could've definitely settled into something permanent. but now, he's placed himself in a position where he can be kept around or left behind at will. the parameters of the relationship are largely in aradia's court, so any label she suggests to identify their relationship with he's likely to accept.
but that's why it's so difficult to label it. because god tier aradia may not necessarily Want quadrants or relationship labels. rather than the initial romantic attachment, their commitment to each other had evolved into one fundamentally of companionship.
no label? ok fine. no matter what, he still thinks she's a good soul worth latching on to. the best, actually. aradia > everyone else.
even if it gets stilted at times. there's an unexpected struggle to connect when sollux's go-to default for talking points is his feelings about things, and aradia may not want to talk about emotions all the time.
not to mention god tier aradia became an observer, especially of chaos. but sollux's avoidance of involvement comes partially from his innate pressure to get involved if something goes wrong. and he can't always tell when something goes wrong, because aradia doesn't mind if things go wrong anymore.
it's a non-negotiable preference that causes them to take the occasional time apart, a new boundary that wouldn't have existed before the game and aradia's god tier.
but just like how his friends tolerated his moods, sollux accepts aradia as she is. with no quadrants, their connection doesn't break down because there's no implicit romantic expectations to be disappointed by or resentful over.
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sometimes when i see hs content that deliberately distances sollux from aradia, i assume this is the dissonance people might have felt. people might find it "easier" to be cynical about them bcs of this strange tension.
but idc lmao. grab that shit by the neck
lack of easy resolutions and cleanly tied ribbons is pretty standard of homestuck and imo it doesn't make arasol's dynamic any less incredible. with the right affection and consideration, there's still so much potential to develop the nuance of their relationship outside of the popular quadrant-based depictions.
hs has a lot of really great character compatibilities but the way aradia and sollux are in their own special orbit is why i can write this much about them in the first place. it's that frail innocence between first loves that makes it so sweet to me, two kids who grew up too fast playing guesswork without being clear where they're going.
ultimately i do think you're meant to feel a little tragedy for just how much they care for each other, even if they can't quite establish it in simple terms.
maybe they keep taking breaks to progress their own paths. maybe they remain as anchor partners while seeing other people. but even if you decide to separate them, they're still (awkwardly) texting each other updates all the while. and when they reunite it feels like coming home.
and well. more than anything, i like to believe that they do want to be exclusive.
they're just afraid. after all, they're still learning how to love, beyond the projections of the foursquare quadrant system they had inadvertently distanced themselves from since young.
they might not have everything figured out, but they'll get there eventually if you just hold them together and write them there.
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optional post-canon segment:
one of the limitations of main hs is that (monogamous) relationships are often written as the go-to solution to wrap up character growth; it's an easy "patch" to imagine characters getting their happy ending because they have a partner, and those who don't end up with someone don't get that closure (most notably jade).
hs2 reaffirms this by suggesting that aradia's character cannot progress without letting sollux go, because happily settling in a relationship automatically locks your potential.
that pathetic panel of sollux staring emptily into the sky is still my fave hs2 spoiler ngl i find the impact of their parting so emotionally provoking precisely bcs they were written in original hs to be each other's forever, coming back together again and again
but now, they're subject to the decisions of the post-canon authors who might choose to deviate from that.
it's not new for them to part, but now there's an underlying worry that her dropping him off this time might be the last time. while i think the prospect of shattering their stability to make them grow separately sounds fun on paper, no amount of me desperately hoping for a good execution is gonna guarantee it
idk. i guess prediction-wise im expecting sollux in classic dramatic-hs2 fashion to tell dave to back off aradia LMAO. otherwise it's just gon be sollux and karkat pathetically watching aradia and dave from a distance swimming in their unresolved feelings for narratively-powerful time players smh obvs it sounds corny as hell but who knows its still plausible
srsly tho i hope they take the opportunity to develop arasol's relationship in a fresh direction that doesn't hurt me too badly...... and i hope they force sollux out of his comfort zone. i like watching him struggle :-)
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zillychu · 4 months
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woke up from a dead sleep last night realizing I could make soroku flavored pitch pearl and no one could stop me
edit: you know what? I'm feral and I won't apologize. more under the cut bc this is my house
I slammed this out all at once so I apologize for the quality but I'm having EMOTIONS
so imagine. bc of the way Danny was quickly resuscitated, his ghost only barely started forming. With the excess blast of ectoplasm from the portal being created, that little whisp was given form even after Danny's soul returned to his body.
except this ghost (Phantom) slowly comes into consciousness while trapped in Danny's body. they're separate entities sharing one body, but Phantom doesn't really have a sense of self right away. he pieces together vague fragments of Danny's memory to get a basic understanding of the world, and is mostly just observing like a backseat passenger.
Phantom starts reflexively protecting Danny, his powers and instincts bleeding through when his emotions are high. Danny doesn't really transform, and his personality doesn't totally shift that much at first because Phantom’s mind isn't complex yet. but as time goes on, and Danny has tense conversations with ghosts, Phantom realizes that's what he is. he's a ghost, somehow trapped in his old body. and even now, this early on, he already feels separate. he doesn't have all the memories Danny has.
this slowly turns into horror. into rage. sorrow, mourning a life he never got and will never get to have. forever trapped behind the eyes of someone else, never able to interact with the world. Phantom's rage eventually boils over until it allows him short bursts of taking over Danny's body. it starts out small–a stray hand moving without his consent, knees locking up, ghost abilities going awry. Danny can start feeling emotions that don't belong to him. get vague impressions, almost hears a voice inside him.
and eventually, Phantom is able to fully take over. this is when Danny “transforms". at first, Danny blacks out because his consciousness isn't used to being shoved into the back seat. but eventually, he's awake for these “episodes", trapped in the back of his mind while Phantom controls his body. this only happens when ghost stuff is happening, when Phantom feels threatened enough. he's not protecting Danny, he's protecting himself. Phantom knows instinctively that if Danny dies, he dies too. he's not a normal ghost, he wouldn't be freed. he'd simply disappear.
at one point after a fight, Phantom can feel Danny struggling to take back control. and he talks to Danny for the first time, acknowledges he's there. asks how it's fair that Danny is the one that gets to exist. but Phantom is tired and weak, he slips back into the passenger seat.
over the next few days, he's able to start talking to Danny even while he's not driving. though he's not chatty, it's only when necessary. and Danny knows, can feel it across the link between them–Phantom hates him. the ghost he created is desperate to find a way to take over completely. and as time goes on, Danny realizes with horror that it might actually be possible for Phantom to do that. he grows stronger every day, can stay transformed longer, controls Danny's body with much more ease.
it's only through a chance meeting with Frostbite that Danny and Phantom fully learn what happened to them. Danny feels sympathetic towards Phantom now. this isn't a malevolent ghost, it's a person who was never given the chance to live. who's trapped. who has to watch someone else live a life they're just as deserving of.
and Phantom feels that emotion from Danny. is so shocked by it, he doesn't know how to handle it at first. it takes him a while to contemplate, to talk to other ghosts like Frostbite. until one day, Phantom realizes… he feels sympathy for Danny, too.
neither of them asked for this. both of them deserve to live. Danny didn't do anything wrong. they're both villains to each other's story. and if anything… doesn't Phantom owe his life to Danny in the first place?
Phantom takes over less often. Danny doesn't feel hatred from him anymore. anger, yes–but not aimed at him. in fact, Phantom starts controlling their body in little ways in order to protect Danny from things that aren't even dangerous. just to avoid pain that would only affect the human tethered to him.
it isn't long before they're separated, either thanks to another ghost or Danny's parents. they're thrown apart in the middle of a horrific fight, and when Danny sees Phantom's equally shocked expression, he's terrified.
this ghost that hated him for so long–at best, Phantom would leave him defenseless. at worst, surely some part of Phantom still wants to kill him for stealing away his chance for autonomy.
and yet, when fire rains down on them, Phantom risks it all to grab Danny and get them both to safety. they're still both shaken and stunned this is even happening, but Phantom is able to nervously be like shit shit shit okay stay here don't go anywhere or I can't protect you, okay?
after the fight is over and dust settles, Phantom offers Danny his hand. they stare at each other and god if this isn't the weirdest thing. like, uh, okay, what now? they decide to go see Frostbite, who confirms that they're fully separate now. they ask if there's any chance of merging again and Frostbite assures it's impossible.
Phantom asks, even if I overshadowed Danny? or stay real close? yes, it's nothing to worry about. they leave, and back in the quiet of Danny's room, they talk. Phantom isn't sure what to do. now that opportunity is in front of him, he feels paralyzed. Danny does his best to let Phantom know that… they might be separate now, but if he ever wants help or even just a friendly ear, he's here for him.
Phantom is quiet for a while. then says maybe he just needs to rest first. he'll think about it tomorrow. they're both exhausted and injured. Phantom asks quietly… if he could rest in Danny for the night.
Danny's shocked, and–really confused. Phantom blushes and is like I don't know what my haunt is yet, I don't know where to go, but I know… you're kind of my home. now that I know I can leave whenever I want, it's not something bad anymore. I miss feeling your heart next to my core, just a little bit.
and Danny is just as surprised when Phantom overshadows him, then quietly nestles into the passenger seat again. he didn't realize how he got used to feeling Phantom with him. it's a feedback loop of contentedness, and Danny sleeps easily. (they also find out while sharing a body, Danny gets to reap the benefits of Phantom's supernatural healing)
anyway that's all I got for now thank u for coming to my ted talk
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yuwuta · 1 month
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yuuta exhibits such previously abandoned, recently adopted dog behavior. incredibly anxious all the time, even though nobody’s out to get him or leave him behind. waits for you to return home or from school or from work excitedly, just to see you when you walk through the door. follows you around senselessly, hovering in your space just for the sake of companionship. initiates affection in prodding ways—starts off next to you, then a hand on your thigh, then deems it safe to lay all the way down, then slowly pushes his head into your lap. gets up whenever you need to get up, and resumes his position as soon as you’re ready. brings you gifts as a sign that he’s thinking of you, and maybe because he likes the affection it brings out in you, maybe because he likes the gentle affirming touches of a hand in his hair or a pinch to his cheek. rests his head on your stomach or his chin on your shoulder when he’s sleepy, stays there, immobile, and will not move unless absolutely necessary. sometimes he gets surprised when he hears you calling for him, there’s a moment of disbelief as he thinks “me? really? you need me?” but it’s very quickly overshadowed by this compulsive need to show up, to please, to do anything for you, which is why he always answers when you call. he doesn’t realize that he has puppygod eyes, especially when he’s excited or confused, but he does and it’s incredible endearing. very reluctant to share your space or attention after a while, considers that to be sacred and he won’t risk being let go or lost again, so as a safety precaution, he keeps himself right by you, waits for you always. 
#atp i need to shut and write the omega verse fics that consistency plague my mind#but while im here time for my obligatory megumi mention bc i mentioned dogs teehee#yes megumi attack dog hes megumi grumbly yes megumi bark bark bite bite BUT BUT BUTTTT#megumi is also used to like... hm........ taming? having? caring for? people in his life and also literal (divine) dogs#so for him yes he bites and barks#but he also... he gets confused if YOU dont follow him around like a puppy bc everyone else in his life has so why not you?#gojo's always been the annoying yapping pomeranian chewing on his arm even if he didn't ask#always in megumi's space even tho he didn't ask but he learned to deal with it#won't admit it but knows that too much attention is better than having someone who couldn't give a shit about you#yuuji is the golden in everybody's life and megumi is no exception#unmovable unshakeable and incredibly addictive even if he doesn't mean to be#and very very attached to the people he cares about so yeah yuuji is loud and annoying but he's also loyal and megumi respects that so fine#nobara is like... she decided she liked megumi and was upset about it so she bit his ankle and he tried to kick her off but she has too muc#pride to get shaken off by someone as scrawny as megumi and somewhere along the way megumi became impressed that she was still there even i#it hurt a bit and she was a little rough it's not like he was worse so fine whatever she can stay too#so if you like... if you dont hover around megumi if you dont pry if you dont prod then he has to be the dog smh#now he's gotta bite for your attention and nudge you and how annoying. he's gonna keep doing it tho. as long as he has to#or until you learn to fall in line and accept your leash too whichever comes first n e way.... anyway.............#somebody's pampered omega always gets what he wants megumi complex is showing......#this was about yuuta right? ok i'll put his tags now....#juju#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#yuuta okkotsu x reader#yuta okkotsu x reader
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choccy-milky · 2 months
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oh boy anon, you’ve activated my trap card. GET READY FOR A SEBASTIAN CHARACTER ANALYSIS ESSAY BELOW LMAO
ok so first off I know im obvs biased, but I don’t actually think my seb is that ooc, AND PUT DOWN YOUR PITCHFORKS IMMA EXPLAIN WHY. but im also gonna explain why I don’t think the other more friendly and lighthearted renditions of seb are ooc either. bc theres so many aspects of seb we get in the game that can be interpreted in so many diff ways, and so this is how i see it/landed on MY rendition of seb:
PROTECTIVENESS/POSSESSIVENESS: this is one of the main aspects of him, imo. his entire questline is about wanting to cure anne, and how he’s not giving up, and how he believes that HE is the only one that can do it, because “she’s MY sister!” seb is super tunnel visioned and has a one-track mind when it comes to this, and I headcanon that he’s this way because of their parents deaths. he’s the brother, the boy, he’s gotta be strong for his sister, and ofc when their parents died, he tries to comfort her and be there for her/be the rock, and it happens again when she’s sick. shes his sister, his responsibility, and he’ll die before he gives up on her and her safety.
SO, I just transfer all those aspects over to a romantic relationship instead. you just replace “shes my sister” with simply, “she’s mine/my gf/my wife/etc.” and in the same way I think seb tries to be strong and reliable and protect anne because he’s the brother, I think seb would be the same way in a relationship, because he’s a boy and she’s a girl and its 1890 and he’s chivalrous and he just sees it as his responsibility. I think the death of his parents and his dynamic with anne has baked this sort of mindset into him, and its even MORE intense in a romantic aspect, because then hormones and puberty and sexual tension and attraction is involved (plus the fact that seb in my fic is 17, so he’s older and has even stronger raging hormones and testosterone LOL.
JEALOUSY: who can forget the lines “between the two of you, I’m starting to feel left out” and “ominis simply needs a moment with you and he’ll change his mind. is that it?” the first one is more playful but I feel like the second one really showcases sebs brand of jealousy, and how biting and uncharitable it can be.
AGGRESSION/VIOLENCE: yet another iconic line with: “fine. but ominis knows, I won’t step back from a fight.” LIKE... the fact that apparently ominis knows this means its come up more than once…and im not saying seb is some unruly aggressor who flies off the handle at anything, but he defs has a capacity and is willing to get violent if HE believes the situation calls for it—basically the same way he feels about the dark arts. he felt justified using imperio to protect anne, and taking the relic to save anne, and so he would have fought ominis to get out of the catacomb. and with MY seb, while he doesn’t go picking fights with any boy who looks or gets close to clora, he’ll definitely be willing to beat up or lay hands on a creep who bothers clora/who is in the process of bothering her LOL.
SO YEAH, that’s pretty much it, and I’ll be the first to admit I definitely ramp up these traits further because he’s older in my fic and i think these traits would only get more intensified with age + being in love and also bc IM A TWILIGHT GIRLIE!!! what can I say. there are so many moments in my fic where you can just replace seb with edward and it wouldn’t seem out of place tbh LMAOO so blame twilight, it was a formative experience for me BAHAHA
BUT like I ALSO said, I don’t think peoples more lighthearted interpretations of seb are ooc either. because even all my earlier above examples, you can just focus on diff aspects of them. like his tunnel vision and obsession to cure anne? instead of seeing it as over the top protective and possessive, you can just view it in a more wholesome determined selfless sort of way. like I said we got so many nice little bits and ingredients of his personality that we can turn into anything we want, really👌just pick which flavour of seb u like best and use what we got in game to create it HAHA
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AW TYY QUEEN BAHAHA💖 and aw im always so honoured when ppl tell me they consider my stuff canon that’s like the best compliment I can get, tysm 😭 and im glad you like my fic and art so much (enough for your friends and family to unfortunately know💀 LMAOO)
im adding your ask to this because it kinda ties into my seb essay. LETS GET INTO WHY A SWEET BABY ANGEL WOULD LIKE SOMEONE LIKE SEB. the answer ISSS: the same reason WE’RE also all into him I guess?? BAHHA
ok but to start off im gonna defend my seb, not only cause of what you said anon (i dont want you to feel like this is targeted to you!) but also bc I got an ask recently asking me to summarize seb and clora’s relationship since all they see from my art is that “they fuck and seb is possessive” LMAO, and I feel like ppl who JUST see my art and don’t read my fic have a warped image of my seb.
this may be shocking but I don’t consider my seb a red flag LMAO. I joke about how hes more of a pink flag tbh, but even THAT i dont even really believe, and don’t even consider him overly possessive. like yes he keeps an eye on her when shes hanging around other boys, but I feel like that’s normal (esp for 1890) and all of his most possessive moments have been when theres been a threat to cloras life/coming from a place of love and protection (especially since clora is so self-sacrificial, she’d have killed herself by now if not for seb LOL) so to me id actually put Sebastian as being PROTECTIVE as his first and foremost trait, followed by the possessiveness.
and yeah he gets jealous, but unless a dude is actively trying to get with her/hitting on her/harassing her, he’ll otherwise just kinda be unhappy about it/let it play out/ watch on unhappily LOL. and even when lawley was blackmailing clora and getting in between her and sebs relationship and lying about how close he and clora were, seb demanded answers from CLORA on what was happening between the two of them, but he didn’t touch lawley or tell him to stay away. bc seb thought that was what clora wanted, so he let her drift away. if he was TRULY a red flag, in this instance he would have just beat up lawley for taking what was "his"/not allow clora to leave him/immediately go to lawley instead of clora, and tell him to stay away despite what clora might want. (and clora even WISHED seb had interfered and done this. she was like 'why is he letting me drift away and go off with lawley i WANT him to fight for me...but she couldn't actually say anything thanks to the blackmail)
clora doesn’t just 'put up' with sebs more possessive and protective behaviour though, she actually likes it HAHA. just bc shes a precious baby angel, we all like a bad boy, even back then. just look at jane eyre, and how popular the dark and brooding and assholey mr. rochester was.
she tells seb at one point that she likes those things about him, even his immature competitive side, and his darker sides, and that he shouldn’t try to hide them or change himself because she accepts them. and even putting aside all of the stuff they’ve been through together that has bonded them (like the main canon quests + annes curse and then CLORA being cursed, and then clora being kidnapped and seb saving her) clora thought seb was roguish and charming and witty and intelligent and good looking from day 1. add to the fact that he’s just so devoted to her in everything he does, that even if he CAN get a bit overbearing at times, how could you NOT fall for someone like that😩 someone whose possessive behavior just stems from wanting to protect you and love you and want to keep you safe and cherish you like DAMN…. GET ME A SEB, TOO. WHERES MINE!!!😭😭
clora also realizes in ch 32 WHY seb is so protective of her (the trauma with his parents and wanting to be there for anne) and that she accepts it, and enjoys it, and that she might even MISS it if seb were to ever get less protective of her/might get lonely LOL, and then sebs like "i’ve "spoiled you, have i?"
so YEAH I don’t think sebs protectiveness and possessiveness goes into any toxic territory or red flag territory PERSONALLY (and the time that it DID get toxic was because of the relic, and clora DID put her foot down)
but my normal seb? whose dream in life is to whisk clora away into a tower and lock her up to keep her safe and keep her all to himself, but that he’d never ACTUALLY do because he knows its insane and unreasonable but jokes about wanting to do it anyway bc he would if clora agreed? clora finds that endearing and cute and is touched by how much he loves her and wants to keep her safe.
IN CLOSING: I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOUR AND THEY LOVE EACH OTHER👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨
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writeouswriter · 2 years
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The curse has lifted (finally wrote more than like 10 words on something)
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lunarharp · 3 months
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:')
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add1ctedt0you · 9 months
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An interesting theme, imo, in mdzs is the sheer tiredness you must feel when dealing with someone who, having been dead for more than a decade, is still the same person as before, while you aren't anymore.
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cipher-fresh · 4 months
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Did Eleven ever tell Amy and Rory’s parents that they’re alive in the past? Or did they just go missing a few weeks after a third of the human population had heart attacks?
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livesincerely · 3 months
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on my hands and knees for a take a shot snippet 😭 i just know this fight is gonna take me out
Ask and you shall receive! But brace yourself
00000
“Jackie, stop,” Davey says, his voice shaking. “I know you wouldn’t, it ain’t like that—“
“Then what’s it like, Dave?” And now Jack can feel his own eyes starting to sting, a lump forming in his throat. “Explain it to me. Because I don’t understand.”
Davey’s mouth parts, his features drawn and pale.
“I… I can’t,” he breathes, the refusal nothing but a sigh on the wind.
“…You can’t,” Jack repeats quietly, and he feels something crack and crumble, deep inside. “You can’t? Wha⁠— What the fuck am I supposed to do with that, Dave? Huh?!” His voice breaks as it all comes pouring out of him, a geyser of feeling that’s finally erupted. “Am I supposed’ta jus’ sit around with my thumb up my ass, waitin’ for you decide I’m good enough to talk to again?”
“Jack⁠—”
“‘Cause that’s the thing, ain’t it, Dave? Jack spits. “It’s not that you can’t explain it⁠⁠—Race and the rest of ‘em, they all know damn well what the fuck’s goin’ on with you, don’t they? It’s that you won’t explain it to me. Not even when I’m down on bended knee, worried outta my skull, beggin’ ya to let me in.”
And then, because he couldn’t keep in even if he tried: “Why can’t you trust me anymore?”
Davey makes a noise in the back of his throat, low and wounded. 
“Jack, I⁠— It’s not that simple⁠,” he says, his eyes wet and pleading, and the fact that even now, Jack can’t hardly stand to see him cry, is infuriating.
“Seems pretty fuckin’ simple from where I’m sittin’,” Jack says, forcibly hardening his heart. “If you don’t want me around anymore, then that’s⁠— that’s fine. You ain’t the first an’ you won’t be the last. But I thought you’d at least have the decency to say it to my fuckin’ face instead of draggin’ it out like this.”
He shoves himself to his feet, his arms and legs trembling faintly. “Message received, okay?” he says with a bitter scoff. “Loud an’ clear.”
“Jackie, wait!” Davey’s fingers clutch at his forearm, his hands clammy and frantic. “You don’t⁠— It’s not that I don’t want to tell you⁠—”
“Then tell me!” Jack shouts as he whirls back around. “For fuck’s sake, Dave, you’re acting like I broke your heart!”
And Davey looks absolutely gutted⁠—cracked open, exposed, and raw—and he staggers back a half step, dropping Jack’s arm like he’s been punched in the gut.
Jack stops dead in his tracks. The frustration that had been swirling inside him, the churning froth that threatened to capsize everything in its wake, flickers and dies like a candle being snuffed out. Icy cold seeps through every crack and crevice of him, down into his lungs and out through his veins, freezing him right to the bone.
Silence. Gaping and unfathomable. Then:
“I think you should go,” Davey whispers. 
Jack’s throat clicks, the chamber jammed. 
“…Dave,” he starts, hushed, hardly daring to breathe, suddenly and impossibly aware of just how brittle the space between them has become. “Davey, did I break your heart?” he asks.
Davey swallows so hard it looks painful, like he’d rather choke it all down than let another word escape. “Please go.”
“Are you in love with me?”
“Jack,” Davey says, his voice utterly shattered. “Stop it.”
But Jack can’t. He doesn’t know how.
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ephemerasnape · 2 months
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The sight that greeted Victor Rookwood as he exited the Hog's Head that fateful evening would be forever ingrained in his memory.
The street was dark and eerily quiet, and the dapper wizard had just taken a few steps outside the seedy pub before he realized something was amiss, causing him to stop abruptly and survey his surroundings.
"Lumos."
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Continued below...
At first, Victor was more disoriented than anything - unsure that he could trust what he was seeing with his own eyes. The dark wizard blinked a few times in confusion before, slowly, he began to make sense of the gruesome display before him.
Heaps of... dirty rags? Someone has made rather a mess, it seems. . .
No. That's blood.
Blood and worse.
Before him was a scene of utter carnage the likes of which he'd never seen. A slaughter. The lifeless bodies of several young witches were splayed out in the middle of Spire Alley, a spectacle so macabre that even the dark wizard, well-accustomed to death, felt his stomach lurch at the sight.
A ginger witch lay eviscerated. Another's golden hair fanned around her angelic face like a halo. A brunette was positioned face down in a pool of her own blood. A strange-looking witch with odd-coloured hair... Victor shuddered as he recalled that one. He remembered her as having been particularly annoying.
And yet more still.
Sisters in death. Some he recognized outright, a vague familiarity to the rest. Their faces - doubtless once beautiful, now befouled by their own blood. Twisted limbs at grotesque angles. Internal organs now decidedly external.
Gods..
And in the center a... survivor? Victor tentatively stepped forward, perhaps even to offer a helping hand, as the pale witch clad in black gazed up at him adoringly.
"Victor.. I did it for you. For us."
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Rookwood watched, horrified comprehension dawning on his face as the witch released a bloodied dagger she'd been holding. He barely registered the sound of the steel clattering to the cobblestone over the pounding of his heart.
"I love you, Victor."
-------------------
Now a video.
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thelemonsnek · 3 months
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visuals i made for a real actual paper i wrote for my sociology class that my professor will be reading
[image ids: the first image is a black and white drawing of Ingo and Emmet, from some time after Ingo disappeared. They both look neutrally forwards. Ingo is bedraggled per usual in Hisui, and Emmet looks tired. To either side of them are triangles emphasizing what shape their goatee is.
The second image is a photo of a salt and pepper shaker. The Submas Sideburns are drawn on top of them.
The third image is an edit of Shrek. He gestures at Donkey, saying, "submas fandom is like onions. submas fandom has layers, onions have layers... you get it? we both have layers."
The final image is an edit of the Marge potato meme. She holds Ingo and Emmet up, saying "I just think they're neat!" End id]
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katierosefun · 10 months
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hm maybe i’m going to get flack for this, but i genuinely don’t understand how some self-claimed fic lovers can be the same people who a) pressure and harass writers into producing more and more stories, regardless of their current health or personal lives, b) pressure writers when they aren’t updating fast enough, again, regardless of their current health or personal lives, and c) now, apparently, feed their supposedly beloved writers’ stories into ai bots. it’s becoming incredibly disheartening and clear that some folks don’t care so much about writers and really care exclusively about feeding whatever greedy need they have to just consume.
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corazondebeskar-reads · 8 months
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well it's love, make it hurt - chapter six
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well it’s love, make it hurt series
six: sometimes it just feels better to give in
series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter
dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader
Word Count: 4.2k
Summary: You have cabin fever and a rough morning. The Mandalorian finds a way to cheer you up and pass the time while you travel across the galaxy.
Warnings: bdsm, d/s relationship, established relationship, dom!Din Djarin x sub!reader, soft dom!Din Djarin, kind of intense scene, domestic nonsense, hand feeding, spanking, one (1) pussy slap, oral (m receiving), oral (f receiving), 69, rope bondage, sex pollen (intentional, Din only), Din Djarin removes the helmet but doesn't reveal his face, subspace, aftercare, no y/n
Originally written for Kinktober 2023 - Day 8: Sex Pollen/Sexual Competition, inspired by @absurdthirst’s wonderful prompt list,
also on a03
3 ABY - Winter
It's day five of near-constant travel across the galaxy. You had worked on the way out, filling the carbonite, and now had nothing to do but return.
Yesterday, you had stopped for fuel and food. Taking the long range of bounties would pay off in the end; you had run the numbers, but for now, it meant things were a little tight. Mando never really lingered at the ports, but you hadn’t bothered to enjoy the market or the rusty crimson mountain range. The faster you got back, the faster you got paid.
It wasn’t as if you would starve. There were reserves; you both knew that. After it became clear neither of you were particularly interested in ending your arrangement, you shifted the way the profits were split in favor of a more communal fund for ship repairs, rations, and medicine. That budget was running low. But both Mando and you had your own caches of credits, earmarked for other purposes.
You regret the quick departure now. You wake up stiff and grouchy, like your body knew it missed out on a leisurely hike full of beautiful sights. After you drag yourself out of bed to stretch, you try to recover the day.
What for, though? There's nothing to do. You're over looking at the stars or the gray walls of the Crest. The datapad only held your attention for a minute or so before the tension in your chest built back up, and you tossed it to the side.
Getting out of bed proves to be another mistake. You burn your caf. When you try to dump it out, you spill a bunch on the floor and have to clean the whole galley to get the smell out. And when you go to rid yourself of the caustic odor and sticky residue, the fresher is exclusively sputtering cold water.
Fuck it.
You dry off and go back to the bunk, not bothering with clothes lest you rip your favorite shirt or trip and fall while putting on trousers. Seemed like the kind of thing that might happen.
You bury yourself in the covers and turn off the light, determined to sleep for the entire day and hope tomorrow was better.
Mando was elbow-deep in the wiring for most of the morning. A long trip was a good chance to update some of the non-critical systems. He was vaguely aware that you were up and puttering around the ship, and as much as he wanted to take a break and greet you, he knew he’d never be able to finish the job.
By the time he finishes and cleans up, securing the panel back to the wall, a couple hours have passed. But you aren’t in the hull eating lunch or fixing your jammed pistol. You aren’t curled up in your chair with a book. Even the refresher is empty (to his slight disappointment. He would have enjoyed the show).
It was unlike you to go back to bed. A deep frown settles as he makes his way to the bunk, and there you are, curled up on your side against the wall. He runs a bare hand up and down your leg, and you stir a little.
“Cyare, you okay?” he says.
“Uh-huh.” It was more of a groan than anything else.
“Are you sick?” His hand tightens a little on your calf, brow furrowing as he reaches up to feel your forehead.
You bat him away (or, at least, he thinks that's what you attempted to do. It was more of a weak flop of your hand before it fell back on the bed). “Nuh-uh. Sleepy. Bad morning.”
He settles on the edge of the bed. “Anything I can do for you, cyar’ika?”
“Nuh-uh. Lemme sleep.”
“Okay.” He sighs and slips back out of the bunk, but leaves the door open. The idea of closing you in there made something grind in his sternum.
He lets you sleep for another hour while he takes a quick rinse in the fresher before preparing a bit of lunch—or, technically, breakfast. Neither of you have eaten yet. At the market yesterday, while you were meticulously restocking and haggling with shopkeepers (he could practically see the credit-per-meal calculations crunching in your head), he had slipped a wrap of boiled tipyip, a crusty loaf of bread, fresh tubers, and a few fruits into the bag. With his own coin, of course, and insisted on carrying the bag.
The idea of you stressing over whether or not you’d have enough food made him physically ill. He trusted you to buy enough rations, but it was unusual for you not to buy at least a few fresh items. You were going to be on the ship for another four days.
Before working together, you had both lived that way. Bounty to bounty, ration to ration. But half the point of taking a partner was to have a better life. And while most of his credits went to making sure his people all had better lives, it hadn’t taken long to soften up with you around. He wanted to be soft with you around, or you’d spend every moment flinching away from the thorns you’d made your nest from.
Osik, he’d done the same thing, but he had the armor. The armor he’d been wearing a lot less lately. The past month or so, he found himself shedding everything but the helmet while you traveled. Never on land or at port, but hurdling through the frigid vastness, he preferred to feel your warmth.
Mando eats while he makes your plate and then, slipping his helmet back into place, climbs into the bed. He settles behind you and wakes you.
“S’it morning?” you mumble.
“No, but it’s time to get up.”
“No,” you whine and cover your head with the blanket.
He shakes his head, grinning beneath the mask. “I’m not asking, cyar’ika.”
You pull the blanket down to your nose and look up at him with big, sad eyes.
“Stop that,” he tugs at the blanket, “or are you trying to be a brat?”
You shake your head.
“C’mere,” he says, patting his lap. You scoot up so your back is against his chest.
“Open,” he says.
You obey immediately, but furrow your brows and strain your head back a little to see what he's up to, given that you are very much not in range of his cock.
He presses a berry into your mouth, which doesn’t seem to clear anything up for you, as you raise an eyebrow at him.
“Eat, cyar’ika,” he says, running a finger over your bottom lip.
You close your eyes for a moment as the juicy berry bursts on your tongue, and then you sit up and whip around to look at him. “Hey—” you started to scold.
“It didn’t come out of the budget,” he says, pulling you back down by the shoulder. A wave of affection spreads as you let him rearrange your body, despite your irritation.
You open your mouth to argue, but he fills it with a slice of longfruit before you can make a sound. You bite down on it like you wished it was his flesh, narrowing your eyes in challenge.
“I’m allowed to spend my credits however I’d like,” he reminds you, pressing a piece of stew-soaked bread to your lips just in case you got any ideas about speaking again. “If I want to spoil you, I can spoil you.”
You cross your arms across your chest but open your mouth willingly for the next bite. He brings his idle arm around yours, basking in the way you loosen a little, forehead smoothing over and exhaling softly.
“That’s it, cyar’ika, just let me take care of you.”
Once you had eaten a decent helping of everything, he brings his other arm around you and closes his eyes, resting his helmet in the crook of your neck.
“Are you still hungry?” he murmurs after a few moments of peace.
You shake your head. You're pleasantly full, warmed by the stew, and feeling lighter from the fresh meal. “Did you eat?”
He nods against your shoulder, wiggling you a little so you're nestled between his long legs, and sighs softly. You take the cue to close your eyes and lean your head against his chest, content to go back to sleep.
You should have known he had other plans when his hands started wandering, but to be fair, it was rare that you lay together without him idly fonding you. It didn’t always lead to anything; he just liked to keep you in a near-constant state of arousal through teasing.
“That way,” Mando had purred in your ear once when you whined, “you’re always wet and ready for me, cyar’ika. That way, I can just… bend you over and slide right in.”
You had nearly cum at the thought alone, and so, he continued to be an absolute menace.
Now, he helps himself to handfuls of your breasts and lazily rolls each nipple between a thumb and forefinger. You concentrate on your breathing, having learned well enough that if you let yourself get worked up too soon, he was more likely to laugh and walk away, to let you marinate in it until you were begging for him.
“Cyar’ika,” he says, pitched low and dangerous in a way that never fails to make you feel like prey. Uh-oh.
“Yes, sir?”
He grins at the tell-tale waver in your voice. “I’d like to try something.”
“Oh no,” you breathe, shuddering.
“Oh no?” he says. “You don’t want to try something? Is that why your poor, empty cunt is dripping all over the bed?”
You whimper and bury your face in your hands. He pries them away immediately, holding both wrists in one hand.
“Sorry, I’m sorry, sir,” you say, knowing how he hated it when you hid from him. You're squirming, now, and can feel his hard cock against your lower back.
“What do you say, cyar’ika? Can I use you? I think you’ll like it.”
You nod without hesitation, despite the way your heart rabbits against your ribcage. You had enjoyed everything he's done so far, but every time he starts with “I’d like to try something,” it usually involves something very intense.
“Let me help you forget all about your bad day.” His hand slides down to your cunt, and your hips buck involuntarily, trying to reach him. He snatches his hand away and laughs. “Be patient,” he warns, before cracking his hand down against your pussy.
You yelp and whine, a pout turning your lips down.
“None of that, sweetheart, or do we need to start with a spanking?” He's teasing, but you hesitate. “We can, if that’ll help.”
You nod, your hands twisting at the sheets to keep them from obscuring his view as you flush from your ears to your chest.
“Such a good girl, telling me what you need. Lay across my lap,” he scoots so his back is flush with the wall. He’s so proud he doesn’t even make you beg for it.
As you settle, he strokes the soft skin of your back, one broad hand splayed across your shoulder blades. “Count for me, baby,” he says before bringing his hand down across your ass.
The strikes are firm but not sharp. Your count comes out in soft moans. He watches as your skin reddens a little, the way your plump flesh bounces. His cock is straining against its linen prison. It was going to have to wait a while, too. He had too much self-control, and it certainly wouldn’t be fair to you if he got to take the edge off before starting his little game.
Not that it was going to be fair to begin with.
You’re sprawled now, limbs askew, head hanging off his lap with your arms dangling.
He pauses. “Are you seriously falling asleep?”
“No,” you lie. “It’s just so nice.”
Ooh, mistake, he thinks, and brings his hand down hard for the last hit. It has the desired effect as you yelp and startle from his lap, betrayal across your face.
“Out,” he said, gesturing to the door and pulling his legs from under you so you have to scramble to make room.
You eye him suspiciously when you land on your old bedroll.
“Something you want to say?” he says, digging around in a cabinet with his back to you.
“No, sir.” You bite your tongue and try to see what he’s doing.
“Sit down, impatient girl,” he scolds.
You sit, legs crossed. You thought about kneeling, but with no indication how long you’d be there, you decided to get comfy instead. It’s then that you notice the ropes on either side of the bedroll, neatly coiled. Waiting.
“Don’t touch,” he says as you reach to feel.
“How do you do that?” you say, flinching back and folding your hands in your lap.
He chuckles. “I know you, cyar’ika. Turn around and face the fresher for a minute.” When you’re settled, he sits down behind you and takes one of the ropes. “Can I tie you up, baby?”
“Please.” It comes out as more of a whine than you mean, but your every muscle aches to find out what it feels like.
“You just sit there and relax.” He pauses. “No sleeping.”
You snort and shake your head. There was no need to worry about that. You’re too wound up now.
He begins to wind the cords around you, softly explaining what he’s doing. You would have been fine just letting him work, but to your surprise, it’s nice to know what’s happening. It helps that his voice is so, so pretty. And soft.
As he ties the diamond harness around your chest, he brushes his hands against your breasts, and you can’t help but squirm. He lets you. You won’t be able to, soon, anyway. He ties it off and shakes some of the ropes, running his finger under them to make sure they aren’t too tight.
“Oh,” you whisper, reaching up to feel the knot against your sternum, cupping your cradled breasts, and following the rope up to where he’s woven it over and under your collar.
He lets you explore for a moment. “How’s everything feel? Any pinching or tingling?”
“No, sir.” Your voice is so quiet he can barely hear it over the hum of the mechanics.
“Hands together behind your head.”
You lift them up, fingers knit, and he adjusts them so your neck is cradled in your palms. “Is that comfortable? Think you’ll be alright with them there for a while?”
You hum.
“Cyar’ika. Need you to stay with me right now and use your words.”
You shake your head a little bit, trying to clear away the haze even though all you want to do is sink into it. “Yes, sir. And yes, I’m comfortable.”
“Good girl. Hold still.” He starts first with your arms, threading the rope around to secure your forearm to your bicep. He winds a cuff around each wrist and gathers your hair into one fist.
You moan, less in pleasure than in contentment, so he takes an extra moment to run his fingers through your hair, pulling it neatly back. He slides a loop around it and braids the excess through, tying the end and securing it to your wrists.
Your breathing is ragged. Every brush of his fingers is sparking straight to your cunt, your thighs damp.
“Relax, baby. I’m only halfway done,” he says. He helps you turn around and gently lowers you until you’re lying flat, face up.
He looks you up and down and scraps some of his plan. He had something more elaborate in mind, but he doesn’t want you to slip into subspace yet, and it doesn’t seem like you can fight it for long.
Instead, he takes one leg and bends it to your chest before tying it there. With the other, he bends it over a low rung of the ladder, and secures it so you’re spread and vulnerable. Finally, he takes the loose ends sprawling from under the bedroll and weaves them across your torso, crisscrossing until he’s satisfied.
He checks each tie meticulously, having you affirm your comfort, before he sits back on his haunches. “Move.”
“What?”
“Wiggle, baby. Squirm around.”
You try. When you find that you can only wiggle in place, but can’t actually get any distance, you moan.
“You like this, cyar’ika?” He doesn’t need to ask. Your cunt, spread wide for him, is soaked. But he likes to make you say it anyway.
“Yes, sir.” You’re flushed, but you couldn’t hide from him if you tried.
“Good girl. You ready to try my idea?”
You open and close your mouth a few times. “This isn’t it?”
“It’s part of it, baby. It’s preparation. But last night at the market, I found something very interesting.” He holds up a small canister. “There’s a plant that grows on the mountainsides there with a peculiar side effect, if inhaled. If I take this, I’ll be insatiable for hours.”
Your breathing is shallow, eyes wide as you stare at the little tin.
“Remember, cyar’ika. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I won’t be upset with you if we don’t use it.”
“What’ll happen if we do?” You’re curious. “You’re already insatiable.”
“No, pretty girl. It’ll leave me hard. I’ll be able to cum over and over. Y’know, like you get to?”
“Oh. Yes, please.”
He laughs. “I was thinking we could play a little game. You like a little competition, right?”
“Uh-huh,” you nod, feeling a little suspicious again. You enjoy when he makes you suffer for his (and your) pleasure, but that doesn’t stop you from getting nervous.
“I want to see which one of us can make the other one cum more.”
“Oh,” that sounds fun, actually, so what’s the catch? “Wait. Hey, hang on. You tied me down.”
He laughs. When he’s like this, it’s just on the side of condescending that makes your clit throb. “You’ll have your mouth. And I’ll have everything else.”
“That’s cheating!”
He runs his hands over your breasts, pinching and squeezing. “That’s the point. Don’t worry, cyar’ika,” he strokes your cheek. “You kind of win either way, don’t you?”
He stands up. “It’s up to you. You say the word, and I’ll put this away. Plenty of other ways I can use you like this.”
You look up at him, a look in your eye he can’t quite place. “I want to.”
“Are you sure?”
“I trust you. And I want to make you cum. A lot.”
He grins. “Greedy thing. I’ll be right back, then.” He doesn’t want to open the container in the same room, doesn’t want to risk dosing you somehow. One of you has to be of sound mind for this, and he knows in his bones that if you use your safeword, he’ll stop. But he’s not sure you’d use it if you needed to, were you to ingest it.
It takes a few minutes, but by the time he returns to you, he feels warm all over. He had been half-hard already from groping you while you were tied up so prettily. But now, he aches.
“Can I blindfold you, cyare?” He’s breathing heavily.
“Please, sir,” you beg immediately, fairly certain of what that will mean. And you’re right.
As soon as the cloth is secure, you hear the soft hiss as he removes the helmet. He doesn’t make you wait, mercifully, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You moan and try to lean up for more, but your tether doesn’t let you.
He smiles, you can feel it against your lips, and you think you might lose your mind. You need him. Now. But he backs away.
He shushes you when you whine at the loss of his warmth, and settles himself over you.
“Oh, stars,” you groan as you realize what’s happening. He lowers his hips, letting the tip of his cock brush over your lips as he bows his head and parts you with his fingers. He dips his cock into your waiting mouth just as he licks the first stripe from your clit to your cunt.
It kicks off a chain reaction. You moan around his cock, and the vibrations pull a moan from him, as well. When you try to take him deeper, you realize you’ve been thoroughly tricked. You’re completely at his mercy, can only have as much of him as he lets you. Meanwhile, he’s teasing a finger at your entrance and sucking softly on your clit.
Suddenly, he pulls away, but slides his cock deeper in your throat. “Oh, and you can cum whenever you want. You don’t need to ask right now.”
Fuck.
It doesn’t take him long to draw the first one out of you. He lets you have his cock the whole time, softly thrusting as you suck and work your tongue. When he finally slides a thick finger in you, all the way to the knuckle, you cum. He moans into your cunt, pushing his cock down deep into your throat. He knows you like to choke on it when you cum, which—you realize later—was actually evil. Because it knocks a second orgasm out of you as you gag and struggle.
He pulls almost completely out, moaning as you suck hard to try to keep the head in your mouth. “That’s two,” he says, but it breaks into another moan as you flick your tongue over the slit. “That’s it, pretty girl, I’m almost there.”
He resumes fucking you with his finger, sliding another one in for good measure. He isn’t going to fight his orgasm. It’s not like he needs to try to hold out, and you deserve to get what you worked so hard for. So he thrusts roughly into you and spills down your throat.
He expects you to count or tease.
But you don’t. You gasp out, “Thank you, sir,” before opening your mouth again to wait for him.
“Dank farrik, cyar’ika,” he groans. “You’re going to kill me.” He slides his still-hard cock back into your mouth, and the way you take him is rapturous.
He resumes licking and nipping at you, kissing and sucking bruises into your thighs. You don’t notice the particulars of what he’s doing. Everything is soft and blissful. You’re only vaguely aware when you cum again, a gentle, rolling thing that makes you shake all over.
The world around you has narrowed. You might be floating, but thankfully, Mando has tied you nice and tight, so you don’t have to worry about it. You always love his cock, but right now, you think you might die if he stopped fucking your face.
The exquisite pleasure is just on the right side of painful. There’s a rushing sound in your ears, like a waterfall. You lose count of how many times he rewards you with his cum, how many times you cum just from feeling him twitch and spurt down your throat. Your jaw aches, and you feel raw all over. It’s bliss.
By the time the drugs wear off, Mando thinks maybe, maybe he’s too old for this. His back aches, and his knees lock up. And he’s so, so tired. But he’s still warm all over, and you’re so soft and beautiful.
You whine when he pulls away, but it’s a weak, soft thing. You’re too far gone, too worn out for more. He gives you another kiss before sliding the helmet back on.
“Cyar’ika, I’m going to take the blindfold off now.” He’s turned out the lights in the hull, but the adjustment might be too much still.
“Mm.” Everything is too heavy to move.
He slips the cloth off your head and warns you to hold still.
As if you would move if you could. That would be so, so much work.
You barely notice as he slides the knife, cutting the rope away from your body. You’re both absolutely filthy, but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t even think about getting cleaned up. Instead, he lifts you up and somehow manages to ease you both into the bunk. He brings the canteen to your lips and makes sure you take slow, easy sips.
Running his hands gently over you, he both checks to make sure skin didn’t break and admires the ridges of the rope where they’ve been tattooed into you. You’re limp, curled toward him, and he thinks you’re already asleep.
But then you nestle closer, pressing soft kisses to his bare chest, and he’s overcome again by gratitude, by awe at what he gets to have with you.
“Hey,” you whisper, later into the night. He stirs a little, too groggy to open his eyes. “Who won?” you ask.
“No idea,” he murmurs, and pulls you back into his chest to sleep.
*title from "My Blue Heaven" by Taking Back Sunday.
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raycatz · 3 days
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WIP ask game, artist edition! (writing welcome too)
RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
It's been really fun reading about what everyone's working on! Let's get the artists involved, too! I want to see everyone's aaa.fileextention and aaaa.fileextention pieces hehe.
I have so many LU comic ideas! For most of them I have the dialogue, visuals, and acting written out. Some have art! Everything from initial concepts to multi-chapter fic.
Here's the .csp wips I have atm! Some of them are tied to comic ideas and some are stand alone.
shunk
haha tanlines
apple tree
chores
wind_maya_19_simpleRig_pose.mb
smack_audio_shorter
theblorbos
pixels2
om nom
nehneh
sleeps
full sprint
headache
ico
uuuuuhhhhh
mftrainsbro
huhwha & hhhwa
beetleeeee
Non LU writing & art wips
lizard
whee
wobbles
corn
sleepy ocs
Moe the Moblin (the idea lives on the LU ideas google doc but it's gen loz. could be LU if you wanted it to be, though! Open to interpretation.)
SSBU Links - Chateau Romani
SSBU Links - Get Out Of The Water!
Mina's Linkverse - Goat Plushie
Team Ico AU
Major & Minor Beats & Shot Types: Dragon Tower
While tagging as many people as I have wips might be possible, maybe, it would definitely be excessive! I'm tagging: @zolanort, @liccy, @luwyv, @mizaruwu, @theegh0st,
@bluevaractyl, @grenapple0547, @starrysorry, @twilight-linkess, @genderfluid-puddle-of-soup,
@awkwardpossum0, @ghostlykidplaidbanana, @jellydragons, @off-mozzarella, @kikker-oma (Oma, do you have any projects outside of Fan Joy July you want to share? :D ) and anyone who wants to play!
(also feel free to ignore the @. This is for fun and only if you want to!)
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blooming-gwens · 9 days
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I'm pleased to inform you that the wait is over! Here is CHAPTER TWO of For Everything
Chapters: 2/
Fandom: Spider-Man: Spider-Verse (Sony Animated Movies)
Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Miles Morales/Gwen Stacy | Spider-Gwen Summary:
~Perhaps they were meant for each other. It was written in the stars—stars meant to burn out in their all at once powerful surge. Stars meant to fall. Bright, burning and then gone. And in its sudden demise, no one would even remember it was once there, lost in the infinity of severed constellations.
That was the way of the universe. That was the way it had to be.~
Alternatively: Gwen Stacy is doomed but Miles Morales’ love might save her.
Please feel free to reblog to support and share my work!
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