#) you would know how fucked up and twisted it is

[cherryredstars]

Hi! Would it be possible for you to write one where he’s pushing down on her stomach and he can feel himself inside her?

18+ NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Stomach Buldge, Hints of Overstimulation, Squirting, Creampie, Reader Passes Out (Miguel Continues), Somnophilia/CNC, Breeding Kink

Enjoy, loves!

"Miggy! 'S too much!"

Your wobbly sob completely fills the room, but it doesn't look like it even reaches Miguel. His eyes are trained to your fluttering cunt, hypnotized by the way your pretty pussy swallows and flutters around his thick cock. A foamy ring of cream sticks to his base, and he can feel it dripping down his balls as the gravity of his thrusts makes it slowly trickle down. Your skin is soft and dented where his hands eagerly grasp onto your hips to pull your weak body back onto him.

He can see the recoil of your skin as his pelvis rapidly slams against yours with inhuman speed, both of you knowing your thighs will be sore come morning. A thin layer of sweat coats both of your bodies, damp hair sticking to your forehead and cheeks. You've been moaning and crying so prettily for him over the past two hours, painting his cock with your precious cum. You should be fucking bloated from the two loads he pumped into you, but he can see how it seeps out from your hole as his cock slams into your gummy cervix.

But his favorite sight of the whole night, excluding the way your face looks when your eyes roll back as you gush around his dick, is the fucking buldge that raises in your stomach everytime he pushes his cock into your tiny cunt. It has him fucking drooling, desperately speeding his thrusts up so he can watch the way it reappears and disappears. You might be too fucked out to register anything, but Miguel sure as hell doesn't entertain even the idea of letting this go unnoticed.

"Pussy was made t'take thick fucking cock, hm?" He asks, reluctantly pulling his eyes away from the raised skin to look out you.

Your eyes are droopy, mouth dropped open with a series of moans as you weakly nod your head. Your face is completely flushed, and Miguel knows your cockdrunk mind didn't process a word he just said.

"Wanna see baby?"

You answer with another high-pitched keen, your eyes fluttering shut as you desperately grab at the sheets to stabalize yourself against Miguel’s thrusts. Miguel has to pry your hand away from the sheet, his teeth gritted as he takes it and places it over your stomach. You let out a squeal the same time he moans once he presses your hand down with his. You get impossibly tighter around him as he presses the buldge down onto his cock. He can barely move his cock out of you like this, and pleasure spikes through his spine as you twist and turn to get away from the newfound wave of pleasure. Miguel grunts, teeth gritting as he presses harder against your stomach to keep you still.

"Stop running away, not done fucking this pretty pussy."

Your thighs kick out around his shoulders, trying to push his body away from yours as you feel pleasure burning through your body to your twitchy clit. Your whole body is shaking with his rough thrusts, and you try to pull your hand out from under his to take away from the pleasure. Miguel can feel his balls tightening with a release, but he tries to hold it off as soon as possible. Before anything else happens, he wants to know how it feels like to have you milk his cock dry with his buldge glued to your walls.

He shifts, angling his hips up so his tip pokes out your walls and his buldge slams into the palm of your hand. You fucking scream at the feeling, your body spasming before it locks. Miguel moans as your pretty juices spray from your cunt, drenching his stomach and thighs with your squirt. Your body shakes violently as your cunt pulsates around him, and Miguel’s eyes roll back as his cock twitches and thick globs of cum fill your cunt for the third time tonight.

His hips still as his balls empty, his breathing harsh as he slowly eases up the pressure on the buldge of your stomach. You let out a little whimper of relief, your eyelids slowly fluttering closed until your breaths even out, and your body goes limp. Fucking hell. Didn't know it would be that good.

Slowly, Miguel pulls his hips back. He hums as your walls drag over his length as he pulls out. A small pop sounds as his tip escapes, the sunction of your cunt disappearing. It isn't soon after that a combination of your and his release trickles out of your fluttering hole, coating your cunt in more cum. Miguel groans as he wraps a hand around his sticky, still-hard cock. He gentlly pushes his cum back into your hole, fucking you with his tip.

He'll be damned if he doesn't have your stomach bulging with his baby after this.

#cherry's requests🍒 #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 #miguel smut #miguel 2099 #miguel o hara #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara x y/n #miguel o hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader smut #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara smut

[anantaru]

synopsis. you got alhaitham to tutor you, although he uses a method you weren't quite expecting, ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ cw, fingering, soft dom alhaitham, petnames used: good girl, fem! reader ᰔ

"repeat that paragraph, that one, read it to me," shuddered and twisted, you weakly nod back at alhaitham's words, the veil of lust drawing across his face.

you admire his honed jaw and poised tone, the perfect shade of red on his cheeks, no trace of imperfections except a lustre ignite of fire shaped inside the yearning in his eyes.

for now, you were only capable to re-read half of the paragraph as he digs the finger deeper inside before curling it, curling it hard, nudging your puffy cunt as you close your eyes at the impact, alternating between squeezing his hand with your thighs and parting your legs in obvious invitation.

alhaitham continues to lightly stroke over your searing walls, tracing his way further until you squirm at the mind-altering press on your cunt, your hole clenching around the digit, holding the finger in for him to never leave you, "yeah, good girl— ugh, but what else? that's not all," he grins as you sneakily ride his hand, his cock hardening inside his pants.

you rest your head on his shoulder, your focus forced on holding onto the book as good as you could.

you attempt to continue, founding it to be futile when he fucks you with a precision that quickened your blood.

"what else do you got for me?" he repeats.

"c-can we just forget about studying already?" you attempt to reason, stuttering over your words, "you know i can't— i want more," as you cough out and squirm, your hips shifting forward so your clit could grind against the heel of his hand ever so often, "i can't focus like this,"

you were correct, in fact, you were certain no one in all of sumeru could ever focus on a single task when a man such as alhaitham himself, no matter how aggravating at times, would look at someone with such hunger in his eyes, a gaze filled to perpetual sharpness.

you do not want him to stop, you want him to do more.

"you seem to enjoy it," the confidence in his tone could not be any clearer, "very much."

he tilts his head to look at you, the brush of his lips against your cheek making you whimper, the following scrape of his teeth hovering against your jawline tempting out a shiver after such tenderness.

a sensual thrust of his hand repeatedly curls and digs into you, knocking the air from your lungs as you clench as strongly as you could around a single digit, his finger rubbing just so against the furthest, most delicious spots of your walls that it increased the force and pressure on your tight belly from the inside.

how long until you break?

his finger wiggles inside, the touch exquisitely precise, awfully confident, and you found yourself in an inescapable position, impossible to hold yourself back from sinking into the sensation of feeling him. just having him touch you.

"you want me to put another finger?" he kisses your cheek tenderly.

your skin holds against sweat and desperation, tickling the hairs on your skin as a satisfactory pleasure could be felt ebbing and flowing through the entirety of your body.

"yes, please another," you breathe, greeting the scribe with a little more than soft excitement in your voice— but you sounded so angelic to him, your voice silk alike, drowning in a river of solace.

shameless in his doings, alhaitham smirks against you, his lips a hairbreadth away from your ear, "really? you think you got that?"

you nod in certain ecstasy, keeping one hand wrapped around his wrist as he pleasures you, stretching and burning into your hole.

the scribe remains confident in wanting to embed his touch, all of it, on you— not only that but his scent too, he needs your body to pick it up until his aura webs all over your most delicate spots naturally, nothing comparing to the feeling of fullness he gives you.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #al haitham smut #al haitham x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #alhaitham x you #al haitham x you #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles

[yaekiss]

𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝑩𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒉𝒔

꩜ Room Content: GN! AMAB! Top! Bathysmal Vishap! Reader x Subby! Bottom! Neuvillette, spoilers for Genshin Archon Quest 4.2, no gendered terms for reader, reader is a bathysmal vishap, Neuvillette has a dragon form, both reader and Neuvillette have hemipenes, cloaca fucking (Neuvillette receiving), frotting, praise (Neuvillette receiving), lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ A/N: If you don't want to read about dragon vishap smut, don't read this one LOL. I know I said "between 800-1500 words". This one just ran away from me ok shhhh. I also made up some draconic courtship lore, don't look too hard at it (but please tell me if you think it's cute thank you <3) anyways ENJOY !!! ꩜ This was written for @coingbee as part of my Care for a Fic fundraising event for Gaza! If you would to request a fic of your own, do check out the event post above ^^

The Hydro Sovereign has returned to their full power.

From beneath the surface, your head lifts. Judging by the excited clicks and chirps made by the rest in the community, it seems as if the others have sensed it too. 

Whilst your fellow bathysmal vishaps murmur and chatter wildly with each other about whether or not to head up to the surface, you’ve already come to a decision. Without wasting another minute, you’re already hightailing it upwards towards the surface, tracking the whereabouts of your Hydro Sovereign via the trail of draconic power traces.

Following the trail takes you all the way into Fontaine. Along the way, you’ve adamantly ensured not to take routes with higher human traffic. The very thought of even crossing paths with one sends your mind twisting with a hatred and loathing so foul. 

As your journey progressed, the ebbing and flowing stream of the trail you’ve been tracking gradually grows stronger and stronger as your distance travelled increases. Until, finally, you’re sure you’re close to the end and even closer to meeting the Hydro Sovereign when the trail stops and seems to be wholly focused and condensed into a solitary being nearby.

Your head emerges from beneath the water, breaking the still surface, sending ripples outwards. Eagerness bubbles within you as you anticipate finally meeting with the Hydro Sovereign that the bathysmal vishaps have been biding their time for, restlessly awaiting the return of their Dragon Lord. The moonlight of the evening is lovely, reflecting off the flow of the ripples.

And yet, as you crane your head to look over to where the water laps gently at the shore, to where the trail you’ve been tirelessly following should end, you feel your blood chill.

All you see is a mere human who stares out into the vast sea.

A split second is all it takes for any previous semblance of anticipation to morph into disbelief and bitterness. Surely, this can’t be! After all this time, was the undying hope in seeing the return of the Hydro Sovereign wasted on some farce? A prime example of a cruel sadistic joke the high heavens would play at your expense, just to see you inevitably crumble at the grand reveal? 

Consumed by your emotions for a moment, you can’t help but regret not having forsaken your sight as your ancestors did. For perhaps if you had followed in their footsteps, you would’ve been able to bask in the exalted presence of your Sovereign leader, albeit for the price of blissful ignorance. 

However, there is still a stubborn, restless part in your mind that wishes to understand just how you could have been so misled like this, how you had managed to be fooled into tracking the trail of a human all this time. 

In a bat of an eye, you swim and make it to the shoreline, the coarse sand crunching under your claws. The disturbance causes the human to notice you, startled by the sudden appearance of a bathysmal vishap. (Although, strangely enough, no trace of fear shows on their face, and they make no move to scurry away.)

As the tension between the two of you grows, you advance slowly towards the human, low hissing sent to them as a warning. And suddenly, they try soothing you in a tongue that’s nothing but familiar to you.

Before your mind can keep up with the fact that this mere human can communicate with your kind, your head has already instinctively lowered along with your gaze pointed down towards the ground in deference to the undeniable traces of draconic authority in their tone and voice.

And when you feel a gloved hand lightly patting under your chin, trying to usher you back up to your previous position, you're struck with the dilemma of relishing in the awe of the unmistakable power of the Hydro Sovereign thrumming beneath or scorning the fact that you've allowed a human to touch you so casually.

(Does it really matter if the human in question is technically your Dragon Lord? The uncertainty leaves a sour taste in your mouth.)

Nevertheless, with enough insistence, they manage to raise your head back up before they start up the conversation.

“Greetings. I am sure you must have many questions regarding my form-” you nod, “-Very well, I suppose an explanation of events both recent and bygone is in order.” Through this, you learn briefly about the matters that have transpired, that his name is Neuvillette, that he is the both Iudex and the Hydro Dragon.

“I expect that you would take this information back to the rest of the vishaps, and that soon I might see more of you on the surface-” his tone drops to one more stern and absolute, “-With this, should any of the human Fontanians meet any unjust or unreasonable form of harm from your kind, I shall not hesitate in enacting the appropriate judgement.” 

An understanding reached, you return back to your community as a sort of newly appointed mouthpiece. However, this proves not to be your last meeting with the Sovereign. No, far from it, really.

The sun starts to dip below the horizon as you slink languidly behind Neuvillette on a stroll together at the area outside of the Opera Epiclese. A couple melusines ride atop your back, Blathine and Veleda. You’ve come to remember their names after Neuvillette encouraged you and the melusines to get along more. (And you might have a soft spot for them after realising the fondness the Hydro Sovereign extends to them.)

The sight of the Chief Justice, along with a literal vishap essentially piggybacking two melusines might seem to be an odd sight to most. However, Fontanians have simply gotten used to this after the first few instances. 

“Ah, there goes the Iudex and the melusines, and that big ol’... weird lizard he keeps around again, for the third time this week,” you hear someone in the surroundings say.

“Huh. Good for him, I guess,” someone else says in reply.

Despite all the time you’ve spent around humans while at your Sovereign’s side, you still haven’t quite managed to readily want to take up the form of one. Hence, the reason why there was a vishap right in front of the Fountain of Lucine. 

Sometimes the Fontanians comment that you’re some sort of big guard dog for Neuvillette. (Honestly, you can’t quite find it in yourself to be opposed to being seen as a protector for someone you hold dear. Plus, it made for easier piggyback rides for the melusines and you enjoy seeing the warmth on Neuvillette’s face when he sees them having fun.)

As the sky darkens and the stars above begin to twinkle, the both of you drop the melusines off at their destinations. Soon, you’ve strolled to the coastline, the soft sound of sea water crashing against the shore blending into the ambient noise in the peaceful evening. Admiring the moonlight glistening and skating across the body of water, you break the comfortable silence first.

“I shall be travelling back to the depths tomorrow, is there any message you would like me to pass on to the bathysmal vishaps?” 

Ever since your first meeting with Neuvillette, more and more of the others have been venturing out and up to the surface with the return of the Hydro Dragon. Due to your enthusiasm in meeting with the Sovereign, the responsibilities of monthly reports and announcements now fall on your back. (Sigh, is this what you get for being the first one back up? “The early bathysmal vishap meets the Hydro Sovereign,” or something of the like?)

“Ah. Has it already been a month since the last one?” He pauses to think, before continuing, “No, I don’t have any information or messages to relay.”

Another short lull in the conversation, you note that he seems to be mulling something over as he thumbs along the handle of his cane in quiet contemplation.

“I hope I am not overstepping as I say this, however, I find myself reluctant to part with you. I find that the time that we spend together is invaluable and that I oftentimes catch myself longing for your presence whenever we are apart,” he communicates this to you, the vulnerability apparent in his words.

“Perhaps, my confession would be more sincere if I were not restricted in my human form.”

As he says this, he wades into the waters, then dives under when deep enough. There’s a change in the atmosphere surrounding you, a heavier pressure forming and coalescing as a vivid bright blue starts to glimmer from the depths.

You look out expectantly, waiting with bated breath, and before long, the mirror surface of the water begins to ripple and distort from something significant moving underneath. Its streamlined movements rocket it towards where you’re standing, and as the level of the water decreases, more of its form is revealed until ultimately, the Hydro Dragon stands before you in all of his glory.

His serpentine frame towers high above you, almost double your height, with smooth iridescent azure scales covering the top of his body and claw-tipped flippers. The colour of his scales transition gradually from blue to ivory white in areas like his underside and neck. His powerful tail relaxes in the shallows, occasionally swishing, causing little waves in the water.

Casting your gaze further up, you see the familiar sight of his glowing tendrils, extending down from the two sides of the back of his head. He cranes his head downwards in one fluid motion, closing the distance between the two of you as he levels you with piercing lavender slitted pupils.

Driven by natural instinct, you bow at the display of ancient authority.

“Raise your head, after all, have you not managed to worm your way into the space next to my heart?” You hear his voice in your mind, the edges of his words pronounced with the slightest hint of a gravelly growl in this new form.

He shifts in closer, nudging his head under yours to lift your gaze back up so that it meets his own.

“As I expected. This form truly is more freeing for myself. Now, I am able to do this,” The tendrils by his head seem to glow more intensely before he can continue. The almighty Hydro Dragon is… blushing?

“Forgive me if I am too forward, however,” there’s nothing but sincerity in his gaze, “Would you allow me to entwine with you?”

Neuvillette's simple question sends your mind reeling. The act of entwining is an incredibly  personal act of intimacy and often indicates the start of courtship in draconic species, one that signals everlasting devotion and commitment.

Usually, entwining is done with tails in regular vishap species. However, species with tendrils can also choose to use them instead of their tails since many believe the gesture to be more heartfelt. It is also said that the closer the frills or spines that the tendrils wrap around are to the head, the stronger the affection that the dragon has for the receiving party.

“I ask this of you not as the Hydro Dragon but rather, as Neuvillette. The one who has seen you cherish and care for the melusines, the one who has had walks under the rain with until the stars have emerged in the clear night sky.” He tilts his head down, tone serious. “That is to say, I do not wish to have your agreement only be one made out of obligation to authority.”

A beat of silence passes as your brain scrambles to process Neuvillette pouring his heart out to you, and you realise that your lack of an answer causes him to hesitate. (His tendrils droop a little and you think you see rain clouds starting to form.)

Before he can apologise or backtrack, you shift forward, headbutting him lightly to shake him out of his crestfallen state.

“Of course, Neuvillette.”

Upon hearing your answer, he instantly brightens and he goes to nuzzle his cheek against the side of your snout. 

“Do excuse me if I execute this wrongly, I’ve never done it before after all,” he comments before gingerly manipulating his glowing tendrils so that they coil around the spines closest to your head on either side. 

Up close, you can see everything so clearly, the tenderness in his gaze that he holds specifically for you. You can’t help but playfully bump your forehead against his, making him emit a content low rumble.

When he untangles and pulls back up, you swipe your tongue briefly against one of his tendrils, something akin to a quick kiss. This elicits a shiver from Neuvillette, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Apologies, ahem, it seems that my tendrils are quite the sensitive area. This full form is still somewhat new to me, and I have not had the chance to discover and understand everything about it just yet,” he squirms lightly against you.

“So how about we find out together? No time like the present, after all,” your tone is sly, charged with a salacious intent that causes Neuvillette to stiffen, tendrils glowing even more intensely than before.

Saying nothing, he swiftly manoeuvres his lithe body until he’s lying supine on his back,.  he exposes his vulnerable underbelly to you, an act so trusting that it roots you to the spot in disbelief for a brief second. Your eyes travel down until you catch sight of his cloacal opening already growing slick.

“Teach me well, beloved.”

Using his tail, he ushers you onto his larger form, where you clamber until you've positioned your slit against his. And when you grind downwards, you can feel him tremble beneath you.

“Hah… I wasn’t aware that it would feel this good,” you hear his voice shake with arousal in your mind. Maybe it’s a side effect of telepathic draconic communication, yet, it’s almost as if you can feel everything he’s feeling, like all your sensations are linked with his, increasing the pleasure bubbling up within you twofold. 

He takes the initiative this time, pushing his bottom half upwards to rut against you. It’s not long before the both of you are reduced to grinding against each other, each moving in tandem in order to maximise the pleasure. 

Suddenly, Neuvillette halts all action, causing you to freeze and check up on him.

“I’m alright. I only stopped because it seems like your hemipenes have everted.” Bashfully, he averts his gaze elsewhere, as if he had been caught seeing something he shouldn’t have. (Which is laughable considering the fact that the both of you were just writhing on the ground, tangled up in each other.)

In your haze, you hadn’t even noticed your cocks evert. Neuvillette’s are still somewhat concealed within, only the drooling tips peeking out of his entrance. 

“Yours haven’t yet, that won’t do. How else are we supposed to help you understand your new anatomy?” you shake your head, a faux forlorn tone decorating your words. “Would you allow me to penetrate you, Neuvillette?”

He nods at your suggestion and you line up one of your tips at his opening. Aided by the copious amount of slick fluid, you’re able to slowly enter him, sandwiching one of his dicks between the one you have in him and the one rubbing against his exposed head.

The new sensation has him throwing his head back, drawing out a loud throaty groan.

“D-Don’t stop, please, beloved.”

Spurred on by how wrecked he sounds, when you’ve made sure he’s comfortable, you start to rock in and out of him, shallow unhurried motions to start then transitioning to a faster pace once he starts to meet your thrusts. Slowly but surely, as Neuvillette gets increasingly worked up, his hemipenes gradually evert until they’re fully revealed.

They’re slender, each with a pale white bulbous base that then curves and morphs into a tip that’s more flared on the bottom edge, like a blunt fishing hook.

“There we go, how are you feeling, still fine?”

“Yes, but allow me to catch my breath first before we continue. Thank you for checking with me, beloved.”

When he’s ready, he experiments and frots his cocks against yours, hissing at the heat and friction as they drag along your lengths. The slick sounds do nothing to quell the rising desire within you and you can feel yourself reaching your peak.

The dragon under you is faring no better as well, judging by how wound up he’s getting. His tail is flicking wildly to and fro in the water, churning up the sand as a desperate mix of growls, chirrups, and pitched calls leave him. Despite it all, he’s still the most gorgeous sight you’ve ever had the opportunity to witness.

“You’re nothing but beautiful, Neuvillette. Ah! I’ve grown to see the overflowing compassion you have within you,” he keens at your words and you can sense the pleasure he’s feeling melding with yours.

“How fortunate I must be to stay at your side, to call you mine, as I, yours.” And this is what does him in.

As he spills over, his tail goes to loop around yours tightly whilst his muscles lock and shake. You follow suit not long after, a sticky mess forming between the two of your bodies

A quick splash around in the water washes most of the evidence off. You rest next to where he’s curled up comfortably, the waves rhythmically lapping up against him. The atmosphere is relaxed as the both of you wind down and converse.

“I’d love to stay with you till the late morning but you have a trial scheduled and I promised to find Pahsiv first thing in the morning to catch up,” you lament.

A rumble from his chest, he’s chuckling. He tucks his head next to yours, caressing a tendril across your cheek.

“I’ll wait for you. Return safe, my beloved one.”

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

If you'd like to request a fic of your own, do consider checking out my event post!

#📜.Care for a Fic! #📜.qi writings #📜.qi musings #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin smut #sub genshin #dom reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #sub neuvillette #writing this was a wild ride #I had so many tabs about lizards and snakes and cloacas and hemipenes open #good lird this is 3k #no one ask me how I got here ok #ainsel just had really good and extensive prompts

[leashaoki]

the jjk men’s favourite sex positions

featuring: saturo gojo x toji fushiguro x kento nanami x choso kamo

wc: 1.5k

warnings: mating press, doggystyle, missionary, cowgirl, dirty talk

this post includes nsfw content, minors do not interact.

Saturo Gojo ꕥ Mating Press

Saturo just loves it when you’re splayed out beneath him, legs hooked over his shoulders as he fucks into you; praising you on how good you’re being for him, how pretty you look, how perfect you are.

“S…So deep, Toru,” You whimper, eyes lidded and mouth agape. The position allows him to fuck you deep enough that you can almost feel him in your tummy, kissing your cervix with every buck of his hips. His strokes are calculated and slow, his cock gliding easily against your walls only to be pulled back out again at an agonisingly unhurried pace.

“Getting so wet for me baby,” Saturo hums, fixated on the way your features twist at his movements. His hands are on either side of your face, fingers tangled in your hair to keep you glued in place. Gojo wants your gaze is fixed on him, clicking his tongue when your eyes close in pleasure, “Nuh uh, eyes on me, you know the rules.”

He gives you a light, playful slap to your cheek to bring you back to earth, a pretty smile gracing his lips when your eyes open again. Gojo tells you how much of a good girl you are for him, rewarding your obedience with an expertly pleasurable roll of his hips that hits your sweet spot just right.

Saturo’s hair falls into his face, those cerulean eyes glowing through the strands. He’s truly Godlike, your messiah, powerful and an image of pure sex; his handsome features twisted in pleasure. He lets out a sultry groan when you tighten around him, tongue flitting over his lips as his pace picks up slightly.

“Gonna fill you up, ‘kay baby? You can take it, right?” He coos, pouting down at you with a patronising shift of his expression before that chilling grin returns to his lips, “Of course you can - you’d do anything for me, wouldn’t ya baby?”

Toji Fushiguro ꕥ Doggystyle

Toji’s an ass man through and through, revelling in the sight of your behind bouncing against him with each of his thrusts. His grip on your hips is like a vice, pulling you back to meet each of his relentless movements.

“Y’ take me so well, Doll,” He groans, the bass of his voice reverberating through your chest. The sounds coming from the two of you are downright sinful; his grunts, your whines and the unmistakable noise of skin against skin.

“Fuck…Whose pussy is this?” Toji growls, practically snarling when you mutter a weak ‘yours’. His hand fists your hair, pulling you up at a slightly uncomfortable angle and turning your head to him. The sight you’re met with is one to behold; his eyes are carnal, sweat beading on his forehead and jaw tense. Some would mistake the look in his eyes as fury, but not you, you knew that look all too well. This was pure, unadulterated lust.

“I asked you a question,” Toji begins, his hips coming to a halt while he winds the strands of hair around his first once more. Bringing his lips to your ear, he places a soft kiss below it before clearing his throat, “Who-“ He thrusts into you impossibly hard, making your eyes water, “Owns-This-Fucking-Pussy?” Each word is followed by another inhuman buck of his hips before he pummels you fast and unforgiving.

You cry out, the pleasure almost too much. He’s hitting your sweet spot with every movement, sending you cascading into both heaven and hell; he tended to have that effect, a perfect mixture of good and bad. “Yours! Yours Toji, it’s all yours, I-I’m all yours”

Letting go of your hair, he allows you to fall onto the bed. You feel his lips at the top of your spine, a loving action despite the ruthless way he uses your body, “That’s right baby, and this cock’s all yours.”

Kento Nanami ꕥ Missionary

Call him vanilla, but Nanami fucking loves having you in missionary.

It’s the perfect view for him; your pretty face twisted in pleasure, the way your tits bounce with each of his thrusts, watching as his cock sinks into your heat over and over. He likes to take his time in all aspects of his life and fucking you is no exception.

Kento knows every inch of your body even better than you do, knows exactly what makes you tick, exactly how to have you moaning his name in bliss. His hips work expertly against you, speeding up gradually before slowing when it all gets too much for you, dragging the thick veins of his cock along your walls leisurely and groaning when you tighten around him.

“Feel good, love?” He’s always so attentive, craving nothing more than your pleasure, more so than he is own. Not to say it doesn’t feel good for him, it feels fucking magnificent, but it feels all the more enjoyable when he knows you’re losing your mind as a result of his dick.

“I want you to cum, can you do that for me angel?” His breaths are staggered despite his composed tone, pulling his lower lip between his teeth and closing his eyes for just a moment before continuing, “I’ll count you down, okay?”

Kento brings a hand to his mouth, sucking briefly on a finger and looking you directly in the eye, before it snakes down to your clit. He rubs small circles onto the bud, making your eyes roll and back arch.

“Ten…Nine…Eight.”

The muscles in his chest and stomach flex with his movements, an image of perfection above you while he coos you gradually to your peak. You can’t help but trail your fingers down his abs; he’s the maestro of your pleasure, the root of all of your desires, the love of your life.

“Seven…Six…Five…”

His pace picks up slightly, emitting an obscene sound because of how wet you are. If you wasn’t so lost in the feeling of his cock, you’d maybe be embarrassed. A low, sexy groan ripples through his chest, sucking air through his teeth as he fights to keep his cool and calm composure.

“Four…Thr-oh fuck- Three…Two…”

The pressure he’s applying to your clit increases, the circles he’s rubbing become more of a vibration and you see white. You hear him gasp, his hips stuttering and body tensing before he manages to utter out a strained,

“One.”

Choso Kamo ꕥ Cowgirl

No surprise here, Choso absolutely loses it when you take control.

“You look so pretty Cho,” you murmur, revelling in the way his cheeks flush furiously at the compliment. He whines, hips bucking a little as you bounce yourself up and down on his length. His hands fist the sheets, throwing back his head so the apple in his throat pierces against the skin.

“T-Thank you,” Choso manages to utter, his gaze once again returning to yours with heavy lids. His eyes are glossy, lips plump and swollen, hair array amongst the covers while you ride him just how he likes it.

Slow and smooth, the soft slaps of skin caused by the rhythm of your hips is his favourite symphony; he could watch you all day, looking up at you with a look of pure adoration on his handsome features. “You’re p-perfect,” He moans, a pitch to his tone so high that his voice is unrecognisable, “Love you- mmph - Love you so much.”

“Love you too baby,” You purr seductively, your hands moving to rest on his chiseled chest. Choso gasps at the feeling, back arching upwards and his cock twitching inside of you; he’s already came once, an agonisingly pleasurable orgasm and he’s still begging for me.

“P-Please don’t stop- ah - don’t want you to stop, don’t want you to ever stop,” He’s almost sobbing, sensitive and overstimulated but still so, so needy for you. His words are slurred, mouth agape and the most wanton look on his face.

“Can I go faster Cho?” You ask softly, snaking a hand up to his cheek and caressing his sharp features softly, “Wanna cum on your cock.” Whimpering, he stutters out a response quickly like the subservient lover he is, nodding his head desperately….pleadingly, “Anything y-you want, anything for you, p-please.” Choso grips the sheets impossibly harder as if to prepare himself for the change of your pace, breaths coming out quick and sharp.

Bouncing on his cock much faster than before, you watch as his eyes roll back and his mouth opens in a silent scream before a stream of whimpers and moans leave those pretty lips of his. He’s a mess beneath you now, shuddering and spluttering, his dark purple irises practically crossing lewdly.

“Such a good boy Cho.”

That sends him over the edge unexpectedly, whining like a whore at the praise. Goosebumps cover his entire body as he takes a shaky intake of breath, “Ah-ah shit sorry baby, gonna cum, ‘m gonna cum again.” He sobs, a tear rolling down his cheek as his hips shake beneath you, cock throbbing as he releases his load in you for the second time that night, but definitely not the last.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #gojo smut #toji smut #nanami smut #choso smut #leashaoki #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader smut #saturo gojo #nanami kento #choso kamo #choso #gojo #nanami #toji #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #gojo x reader smut #Toji fushiguro smut #choso x reader smut #nanami x reader smut #jjk kento #jjk gojo

[inklore]

CAMBOY!RAFE WON’T LEAVE MY MIND.

When I tell you he’s going to give you your money’s worth, I mean that. He’s going to have you thinking; sending him more coins won’t hurt, right? If only to hear him let out one of those deep groans that you can see makes his whole chest shudder. 

He’s going to be a tease at first. Start the session out in an old t-shirt and pants—a casual outfit for a normal day. Not for a thousand eyes and comments begging for a show. 

Waiting with bated breath for him to get started. To take off his clothes and show them why they’re here. Why they keep coming back for more. Why they keep throwing their money at this pretty boy who’s smirking at the camera as he teases them. 

As he waits for the sound of money being thrown at him to slip off his shirt, which he gladly obliges with when he gets a number he’s pleased with. The pants taking a little longer. The heel of his palm pushing down on the growing outline of his cock—heavy, hard, and thick against the fabric. 

The comments almost unreadable as they come in a mile a minute when his fingers pull at the belt of his pants, his eyes never leaving the camera as he does it. Looking up over his brows as he pulls himself out of his boxers, pushing the rest of his clothes to the floor. 

“Oh,” he tsks. Clicks his tongue, smirking as he shakes his head. “You want to watch me fuck my fist? You gotta pay up. Nothing's free ‘round here. Ya’ll know that.” 

When he’s finally appeased. Finally, given what he wants, he gives them what they want. Wraps a firm grip around his cock and starts to stroke himself. Avoiding the head with each down stroke. Paying mind to his shaft, dragging it out. 

His pleasure. 

The show. 

His chest becomes flushed the more into it he gets. His lips parted, his tongue snaking out to wet them. Eyes hard and droopy with pleasure. 

The heel of his feet digs into the bed when he cants his hips up to push into his fist. His eyes scan the comments, making him throb even more, the head of his cock leaking as he reads them. 

Your dick is so pretty. 

Such a good boy. 

He’s so thick. 

Please use me. 

Cum for us. 

“You want my come?” His eyes look into the camera. “How bad do you want it?” He hums, lets his hand twist around the head of his cock, a groan slacking his jaw. “You know what to do to get it.” His voice stern, filled with desire. 

A heavy breath let out when the pad of his thumb moves against his tip to spread his precome around it. To add more slick to his cock. To make it easier for his hips to push his throbbing cock into the makeshift hole of his hand. Fucking his fist just the way his fans want. Just the way they paid him to. 

A thousand eyes on him as his head tips back in pleasure. As he pants. As he gets off to the donations coming, to the people begging for him to come for them. 

“Fuuuck, that’s good.” He smiles, groans. His goal for the night reached. Money in his pocket for putting on a good show for people who’d die to touch him. Feel him. Be painted in his seed. Marked by him, and thank him for it. “Mmm.” 

His wrist twists each time his hips cant down. His movements growing quicker, faster. The noises coming from him less controlled, deep, and incoherent. weak. Rafe completely losing control the closer he gets to coming. 

The only thing on his mind the wanting eyes on him. The eyes that look at him like an untouchable god rather than a man. Someone to bow down to, to feed from. Strangers who would let him wrap his fist around their throat and do whatever he asked gladly, happily. 

“You ready? You want it?” He says, breathy, panting, eyes rolling back into his head right before he comes. Streaks of white painting his spasming stomach. His throat raw from the noise he lets out from the intensity of his orgasm. 

His body shuddering when he lets his hand linger on his spent cock, oversensitive and twitching against his palm. A pleased look on his face, “such a shame it’s going to waste.” He looks down at the mess he’s made on himself. Eyes lifting, looking into the camera, “you want a taste?” 

#i feel meh about this but its been sitting in the drafts for forever so lol #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron one shot #outer banks smut

[vent-stink]

Animal Crossing (Seonghwa x Reader SMUT)

You used to complain a little about how Seonghwa would play animal crossing on his switch for the majority of time he was with you. Those complaints were quickly remedied, though, as he made enough space in his arms for you to comfortably cuddle him as he played, pressing sweet kisses to whatever skin was available to you while he'd excitedly show you the villagers he'd worked so hard to find and the items he had collected. It was cute, and you liked watching him be happy over such a small thing.

It helped that you were also an avid player of animal crossing, so more often than not when you finally had the motivation to work on your own island instead of watching Seonghwa work on his, you'd excitedly invite him to your island to show him your progress and he'd be even happier that you have something to show him. He'd visit Able Sisters every day to buy himself outfits, but when he'd see stuff he'd like to see your avatar wearing, he collects them and gifts them all to you when he visits your island.

Things like that were what motivated you to play animal crossing more, and he was happy, especially when you brought your switch to his dorm and played it on his TV, but when once or twice, became three or four times, and three or four times became every time, he suddenly saw why you used to complain all that time ago.

He was now in your position previously, tucked into your arms as you played mindlessly, pressing needy kisses along your neck making you giggle. He loved the sound of it, but that wasn't what he wanted to hear from your mouth. His hands started to wander, up your shirt, under your bra, and you were so engrossed in your game that you didn't even realize until you felt him run his finger tips over your nipple making you gasp. "Seonghwa-" "You're spending an awful long time on that game," he grumbled, lifing your shirt unabashedly to stick his nose in the valley of your breasts. You merely chuckled, patting his head once before wrapping your arms around his head to continue playing, "You're the one who decided to get me addicted, oppa." "I was wrong, I don't approve anymore," he whined into your chest.

"I'm getting the freaking tarantulas, don't distract me," she mumbled, focus back on the game. Seonghwa sighed, deciding to not do just that as his lips attached to the swell of your breast, leaving wet kisses as his arms made their way under you, unclasping your bra.

"Hey," she complained, but she didn't stop or even look to see what he was doing. "I don't even know why you're wearing a bra in my room," he said. Your arms were occupied, so instead of fully taking your shirt and bra off, he opted to just push them up, mouth latching on your nipple. The little whimpers that left you were closer to the sounds he was looking for, twirling your perked bud with his tongue while twisting the other between his thumb and forefinger, switching sides to his discretion.

"You're distracting me, but ngh I'm a gamer and I caught two," you taunted him, a light laugh leaving you." "I'm not trying to distract you, you're just getting distracted," he said childishly. His other hand that had been rubbing the side of your waist started traveling lower, tracing the waistband of your panties. You didn't usually leave your pants off in the dorm, always cautious that someone would come in, but this time San and Mingi had gone off to do something with the rest of the 99-line, so you didn't have to worry. The door was still locked, though.

His fingers dipped into your cute heart-patterned underwear that Seonghwa had bought you and brushed them over your folds making your hips twitch. "Oh-" "Don't get distracted from catching tarantulas, baby," he teased, swiping over her folds again. Your face unconsciously turned into a deep pout as you tried to focus away from what Seonghwa was doing. "I'm not gonna get fucking distracted- ngh!" You tried to speak through clenched teeth but shivered in pleasure.

Seonghwa prodded your entrance slightly and you let out a noise but kept your gaze fixated on the screen as your avatar inched closer to a tarantula. You were about to get it when Seonghwa finally put a finger in and you jumped, making the taratula bite your character. "NOOO!" Seonghwa only chuckled at your anger, "Gonna change your mind now?"

"No, this is only making me want to ignore you more." Seonghwa took it as a challenge just as much as you did, and he was going to win.

He moved down lower to level himself with your hips, pressing his nose into your pelvis making you glance down at him quickly. He was now going to take his time. You'd give up soon, he was sure. If the heaviness of your breathing was anything to go by, your hands would be in his hair instead of holding that controller soon enough.

He couldn't tell what you were doing on screen, but that was the furthest thing from his mind as he pulled your panties off, cold air exposing your heat to the air, making you shiver. He started with slow and calculated licks causing you to bite your lip. When he noticed, he slapped your pussy making you shriek and look at him with disbelief.

"If you're not going to pay attention, then you're at least not going to hold your moans back," he ordered, diving back in between your legs, punishing your further by wrapping his mouth around the whole area and sucking. At this point you were barely doing anything in the game, just holding the controller with a white-knuckled grip to maintain your farce.

His pace was still slow and when you got used to it, he could hear the clicking of the controller start up again, agitating him. He'd been making out with your pussy for a good few minutes now, and he was tired of not getting attention.

Finally, he pushed your thighs up slurping your pussy like his life depended on it, and you finally relented, throwing the controller somewhere else on the bed as you cried out and gripped his hair in your hands. He grinned, moving away for a second to take a look at your almost pained face. He spat on your pussy to taunt you, and you moaned loudly, "Fuck, fuck, fuck. Feels so good, Seonghwa, ngh!"

"Do you want me to finish you off or do you want my cock?" He asked in between the lewd sounds of his mouth on you. "I- I- fuck, please finish. Then fuck me, please, fuck me."

Seonghwa was a good man and an even better boyfriend, so he followed your orders, bringing you to your climax as vigorously as possible until your body was convulsing with pleasure, hips trying to thrash against his face. You keened when you reached it and whimpered as Seonghwa let you ride it out, mouth still attached to your hole.

When your body relaxed and all he could feel was the twitch of your pussy in his mouth, he pulled away, grinning at your as he leaned up to your face, taking it in his hands and kissing you. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" he asked. "You were challenging me. Succumbing was the hardest thing I ever had to do in my life," you grumbled, "but you win. Please fuck me now." He laughed, simply following your orders.

When you both were sweaty and exhausted, heaving against each other's bodies, Seonghwa noticed the Animal Crossing music still playing in the background. "You don't let it sleep automatically?" he asked tiredly. "It was shutting off too fast so I just turned it off," she breathed, "But I also like the game music."

"What were you even doing when I was eating you out? I know for a fact you lost the fucking tarantulas," he chuckled. You huffed, "You made me waste a Nook Miles Ticket, thanks for that. I only got like 3 of them." "Were you just holding the controller to piss me off?"

You gave him a cheeky grin, "Why don't you find out another day?"

He did find out another day when he was casually playing, not even thinking of you when he opened his bulletin board to see if there would be a fishing tourney or bug off soon.

No, instead he was met with a poorly written message, clearly written in haste. "fck hwa eat m pusy so ogod." He died laughing.

#ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #ateez #atz #park seonghwa smut #seonghwa smut #seonghwa ateez #park seonghwa x reader smut #seonghwa x reader smut

[yuri-is-online]

I imagine Deuce!Yutu is either A. The Ultimate Honor Student with perfect grades and a plsmile that makes old nannies and mothers swoon (Yutu: "Thanks, its because me and my parent are the local "weirdos" I had to overcorrect and become a golden child (':") OR B. just as bad as pre-NRC Deuce was, a gang member who'd jump anyone who'd look at him wrong (but still cried until he was sick when he watched My Girl (1991) behind Yuu's back. They told him not to because they knew it was sad, he didn't listen).

I imagine Yuu's main memory of Deuce to their Yutu was how much Deuce believed in self-improvement and redemption, always trying to be a better man, which either version of Yutu can't help but admire or respect, despite their complicated feelings over their absent father.

Upon meeting him in the "current" timeline as a student, A or B either can't help but give Pop's an A for effort, despite missing the goal sometimes or finds him a little cringe for being such a tryhard.

I had to google the movie you mentioned and got jump scared by it taking place in Pennsylvania. Pretty sure I have driven through the place it's supposed to be set before... and fuck just reading the synopsis made me cry I don't think I could watch it ;-; poor Yutu should have listened to his parent.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here.

I feel like I have read too much Tokyo Revengers because... we can have both: an honor student with a delinquent mean streak sounds like a good set up for Deuce! Yutu. Not that I think he would behave like Kisaki does exactly, but still. Dylla mentions in the White Rabbit event that she wasn't on the best terms with her mother when she was a teen, and we know about how Deuce was in middle school, so the idea of Yutu having a bit of a temper and rebellious streak to him does make a degree of sense. Sadly, I think that extends to his interactions with Yuu... so things are about to be angsty on two fronts today.

Much like Deuce, Yutu was just the cutest baby. He loved all things cute and fluffy. Bunnies, kitties, puppy dogs, he was such a sweet little kid who really loved chasing around butterflies in the great outdoors. He really loved to read, and learned how to do so at a very early age. When Yuu was having a bad day he would pick out one of his favorite books and insist on reading them a bedtime story so they could take a nap without any nightmares. If he was especially worried he would bring his favorite nightlight with him.

Not that anyone would ever dare to suggest it given what Yutu is like now, but he was very afraid of the dark as a child. He still is, there's just something about the void that exists in the darkness that screams danger to him. When he's isekaid to Twisted Wonderland it evolves into an extreme fear of blot and phantoms. I'd like his unique magic to have something to do with light or stars, something inspired by the Second Star to the Right from Peter Pan? I think it would be cute for someone afraid of the dark to be able to provide their own light.

When Yutu reaches middle school there's a noticeable change in his relationship with you. He's still polite, still bringing home good grades and unoffensive comments from his teachers. But he's a bit cold, as if he is purposefully putting emotional distance between you. His friends all treat you respectfully, but you just have a feeling, left over from somewhere, that you know what is likely going on but you can't put your finger on what. He gets angry when you try to ask questions, yelling something about how you just don't understand, maybe even throws in something about this being your fault...

I wrote about Riddle! Yutu having some fights with Yuu, but Deuce! Yutu's fights are so much worse. While Riddle! Yutu typically comes out of his room blubbering big fat tears ready to apologize, Deuce! Yutu feels the need to double down and save face. He does believe his parent has amnesia, he's seen how they act, but what he does not get is why they insist on feeling so fond of his dad and refuse to move on. In his mind their life could be a lot better if Yuu was willing to be honest with themselves about who his dad probably was. Yutu is very hung up on why Deuce felt the need to be redeemed, focusing on self improvement is all fine and good if you are someone worth redeeming but he's not around for Yutu to judge. And Yuu doesn't remember...

He's young, stupid, and angry, and he takes it out on anyone who looks at him wrong. What's worse for authority figures who want to help is that he's veeeery smart about how he does it. When he jumps someone you can bet there won't be cameras around to see it. When the police start troubling Yuu about what he's doing it's mostly just in the hope that they'll be able to talk some sense into their kid rather than to arrest Yutu or anything like that, but it doesn't work. Yutu gets to see the same thing that his dad did all those years ago, his parent crying because of his behavior but there's no grandparent Yuu is asking advice of. Since I am in the mood to be extra cruel, let's say the day that fight takes place, the day Yutu sees Yuu crying is the day he hears a very important name for the first time.

Deuce. His father's name is Deuce and the reason why he wasn't around was because he was from the other world that came to swallow up him and his parent the instant they began to remember. He doesn't get time to cover up the signs of his rebellion, or really a chance to say sorry. He has to look Grandpa Crewel in the face and admit that he made Yuu cry and added to the overly stressed mess their life had become. Everything they said about Deuce was true, and what's worse he was like him.

I feel like Deuce would be the sort of person who wanted to make a lot of home videos. Cater probably would be too, but he'd store most of them on his phone and I think that would be lost to time by the time his Yutu came home. Maybe it's because of the ghost camera, or his desire to be an "honor student" evolving into wanting to be an "honorable husband and father" but Deuce totally bought a video camera to take cheesy videos to show Yutu as he grew up. Instead the kid gets to see fragments of a life he could have had as he listens to his dad tell him about his life and how he met Yuu.

"Honestly I have no idea why they said yes." Deuce is a dork. A complete dork who looks so... young and life like in the video. He knows what features he took from Yuu but watching Deuce talk, he can pick up on the ticks, the way his mouth sets when determined. The look of shock that always made Yuu laugh, it bursts into view when he hears Yuu laugh as they enter the frame to snuggle into Duece's side, to press their face against his cheek with a happily contended sigh. "Y-yuu you're making me look uncool in front of the baby."

"He's not here yet!" You giggle and for the first time in a long time Yutu feels himself choking up as he watches his dad get all silly looking at the thought of his arrival.

"We're really looking forward to meeting you kiddo. I promise, nothing will ever happen to you. I'm not going anywhere."

"Well. Technically kept that last promise didn't you." He tries to play it off like a joke, but Crewel isn't laughing and neither is Yutu.

Gets put in Heartslabyul, but isn't exactly determined to be an honor student like his dad. While Deuce enjoys a good fight or the feeling of the wind in his hair... Yutu mostly got into fights because he was angry and needed someone to take it out on. Because of that temper he struggles with learning and controlling his magic but he still does pretty well with the practical academic side of things. He's proud of his ability to understand these things, and takes a lot of comfort in knowing his dad would be excited at knowing he was good at things like math and science.

Like with the other Heartslabyul boys, he had to fight his father's phantom. He sees putting Deuce to rest as part of his penance for how he treated Yuu in the years leading up to getting isekaid. He refuses to go back in time until he's able to lay this version of his father to rest next to Yuu so he can promise both of them, to their faces, that he'll create a world where they all can be together and live as a family.

Deuce is extremely friendly to Yutu! He wants to learn as much about Yuu's world as he can so he can help them feel as at home in Twisted Wonderland as possible. He makes sure to let Yutu know that extends to him too once Yuu warms up to having him in the friend circle, Uncle Ace is much less enthusiastic but it's clearly from a place of care towards Yuu. He starts to warm up when he sees Yutu trying his hardest to tutor Deuce, though he claims it's because he just thinks it's funny but really it's because Ace wants to see Deuce succeed.

Very correct on his feelings about Pops. His dad is so wildly cringe it's unreal. His effort is inspiring until he starts getting embarrassed for losing his temper and stuttering, or seven forbid you look at his grades. The more he interacts with both of you the more certain he becomes that Deuce would never have abandoned him... and that he is so getting grounded when Deuce learns about how he treated Yuu. And what's worse is that Yutu sort of wants him to.

Surprisingly that's not what happens at all. When Deuce learns who Yutu is, whether by sleuthing or through a violent confrontation with a monster from the future, when the whole story is laid out before him and his son bows to beg for his judgement it doesn't come at all. His Pops yanks him up by the collar and turns him towards Yuu.

"Say all of that again to your parent." Deuce's voice is as stern as it is serious. Yuu looks distraught, not quite to the point they were on the day everything changed but getting there as Yutu immediately breaks down and chokes, crying and begging for your forgiveness and saying he's sorry as Deuce brings all three of you together into a strong embrace. "I'm not the one you need to make things up to, but it's ok. I know exactly how you feel and we'll work through things together."

Deuce doesn't feel like he can be overly angry at Yutu for taking after him. He does feel the need to apologize to Yuu, profusely and in private, for putting them in so much danger and not being there to help Yutu work through his temper. If I was writing this as a story, I'd make Yuu sort of afraid of Yutu's feelings? I could see them blaming themselves and things being a bit awkward within their relationship with Yutu where they had been very good before the reveal. With Deuce being the loving and understanding partner that he is, the bridge is once again mended and the whole family gets to indulge in hobbies that aren't beating the shit out of other people.

Yutu gets back into reading, and starts looking up manuals and histories of blastcycles so he has something to talk to his dad about. He was right about his dad being extremely proud of him for being smart, he's that classic mechanic working class dad who can't stop talking about his kid who went to college and has pictures of him in his garage he makes sure to point out to everyone who comes in. Said person is really just Ace who really wants to make fun of Deuce and Yuu for being cringe together but is too focused on this whole world ending thing and wants everyone to be more focused on that.

Deuce promises that he is, he has a lot of confidence in the ability of your little group to be able to win against stacked odds. You've done it before you can do it again. Yutu couldn't have picked better allies, he's really determined to show him that and be a dad his son can be proud of. He repeats his promise to Yutu that he's never going anywhere, even though the kid never told him anything about the tapes because he really means it. He wants that world little Yutu dreamed of and older Yutu swore to fight for to be a reality, and it's his job as an honorable dad and future husband (he gets so flustered when he says that) to be the one on the front lines of fighting for it,

... just please please please do not tell Yutu about the egg incident. He doesn't think he could handle that embarrassment.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #deuce spade x reader #deuce spade x yuu #ace! yutu is a charming rogue like robin hood #deuce! yutu is like basil from the great mouse detective #this took forever as i was inflicted with some big sleepies but i think they're gone now? we shall see

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno Prompts May-hem (get it?!); cw for more violence than I usually do, ymmv. Also I have a feeling this one shows my American-ness more than most, so uh, sorry? ^^;]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) 15: nightmare

'This,' John mutters to himself as he eyes the flashing red on the departures board, 'is a bloody nightmare.'

Sherlock frowns beside him. 'We're being shunted to a less direct route. Inconvenient, but hardly the stuff to disturb one's sleep.' 

John closes his eyes momentarily. By and large, he's a good fit for Sherlock's behaviours, even when they're--especially when they're?--somewhat off the beaten path. But sometimes he doesn't have the energy. He just doesn't.

They've been on a literally cold case in Nowhereton, Bumfuckshire, and although the jewellery was found and no one was hurt John could absolutely murder a home-brewed cup of tea. And he would very much like to hold his daughter.

'Don't worry, John, you'll be home to her soon,' Sherlock says to him as they board the overstuffed train. They're not the only ones whose night has been sidetracked, literally, but John's empathy is thin on the ground as he jostles his way to two open seats, fantasising about going for a rugby tackle if someone else gets their first.

Sherlock ends up doing the tackling, though, because he gives not one damn about how train passengers view him. And it's not really a tackle, just a Very Cold Look. And maybe a thrown elbow.

Amused, at least a little, John takes his seat.

They manage to get an hour in before it all goes to hell.

---

The sound of the train car sliding over something besides tracks is the first thing that happens -- and really it's more of a feeling than a sound, somehow.

At first.

'Sherlock,' John says quietly, his stomach twisting. 'What was that?'

'Likely just--'

But Sherlock is interrupted by a great dirty shake, like the train is a snake trying to shed its skin in a big ugly hurry.

'Shit,' John mutters, feeling adrenaline flood his system. 'Hang on to something.'

---

John doesn't wait until the dust clears; he's out of his seat and beating his way through the door at the end of the car the second there's stillness beneath him. Their coach is still on the tracks, but he somehow knows that those ahead of them are not so lucky.

The emergency lights are on, but they're flickering and John has to squint as he makes his way through. His gaze sweeps around and he listens hard, but everyone in the car seems to be suffering from merely shock, bumps and bruises, minor things.

The next car is where shit gets real. The angles are all wrong, and he can see several people tangled in an awful unnatural embrace with metal pieces popped out from seats and side rails.

'Jesus,' he hears himself mutter. 'This is not ideal.'

Sherlock is right behind him, which he'd known but not paid any attention to. 'Triaging a hoard of exhausted people in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere with no avenues of immediate escalation?'

'Yeah, like I said. Not ideal.' 

Sherlock opens his mouth, but John has no time for whatever witticism is about to be gifted upon the world, so he steps away from the detective and further into the chaos.

He raises his voice, but tries to keep it calm. 'Hello, everyone. My name is John, I'm a medical doctor, and I'm here to help.'

---

It's a long fucking night. Four dead, a couple dozen injured. One cannot save them all.

---

Hours later, the sun peeking over the horizon and Molly sacked out on the couch, he's about to pivot onto the staircase to his room when Sherlock puts a hand on his elbow. 'Let's wash up first,' he says, voice low and firm. 'Your daughter doesn't need to see you covered in blood, even if it's someone else's.'

'God damn it,' John mutters, knowing Sherlock is right but hating it; his skin itches with the need to see his little girl. 'Fine, but quick-like.'

He sheds his jacket and button down, which had got the brunt of it, on the way to the toilet, then barely looks at himself in the mirror as he runs a flannel over his face and scrubs at his hands. Sherlock is quiet beside him, handing him soap and cloth when needed, without prompting.

John finishes, then looks up at him. 'Aren't you coming?'

Sherlock's face-- well, It does something very complicated before smoothing out into a small smile. 'All right, let's.'

---

Anticlimactically, Rosie barely stirs when John picks her up. His limbs are finally able to shake out the events of the last twelve hours, and he feels Sherlock's arms around him and beneath her like a bridge truss, supporting them both.

John breathes in deeply, taking in the scent of his daughter and his flatmate. His-- his family, he thinks, trying the word out.

'Stay,' he says quietly, not looking away from Rosie. 'Just-- Stay?'

Sherlock hums for a moment, then answers like it was never in question. 'Of course.'

They don't consider pyjamas, instead curling around each other's dusty skin in pants and vests while murmuring about inconsequential things, domestic things that send warmth spiralling through John to replace the chill that had settled in somewhere during the journey they've just finished.

'I do have one question,' Sherlock says finally, the words warming the skin at John's neck.

'Go on.'

'As you know, many common understandings about the English language, particularly when it comes to colloquialisms, are not part of my… erm, base worldview.'

'Right, I am aware.'

'So I'd like to confirm: When you called the train delay a nightmare, you were exaggerating for humour, and when you called the derailment "not ideal," you were…'

John chuckles tiredly. 'Being English.'

'Being facetious.'

'Yes.' He pauses, fingers in Sherlock's mildly tangled hair. 'Sometimes, it's all that gets you from one moment to the next. One body to the next.'

Sherlock murmurs a noise, and John feels his embrace tighten. 

'Well,' the detective finally says, voice deep and sleepy. 'Besides all that, I really must say that watching you in action was quite... informative.'

'Oh? In what way?'

'Informing me that I find your medical competency viscerally pleasing.'

John huffs a surprised breath. 'Yeah?'

'Mm-hmm. You're very good, and it's very attractive.'

'Noted,' John murmurs, eyes closed. 'Next time.'

'Mm-hmm.' Sherlock's palm is warm on his solar plexus, and John doesn't think twice as he succumbs to a deep, quiet sleep.

[❤️]

[a/n- I have not been in a derailment, but I have been in a train car when it ran over a live human being going 70mph, so forgive me for not being keen to research the former for the sake of accuracy.]

ETA OH GOD I forgot the best part! My inspiration for this piece:

#BBC Sherlock #May Prompts 2024 #mayprompts2024 #It's gonna be MAY 2024 #kind of a downer despite starting as a funny tweet #Very British Problems

[class1akids]

Crowd-pleasing vs THE THEMES

Let's talk about about how Horikoshi brought back Bakugou for another crowd-pleaser moment and managed to destroy several character moments for dubious gains.

I'll start with Shoto.

As I said last week, Shoto's panel placing was odd and it looked like Horikoshi was hiding something. This chapter makes it clear that - as some have speculated - Shoto in that moment, lifted Izuku with his ice. Shoto was the endpoint of the Class A combo, the person who got Deku through the last leap.

The moment - if shown full, god forbid included with a DIALOGUE - would have been a nice and emotional callback to the iconic ice-platforms Shoto made at Kamino, or during Class A vs OFA, when he trapped Izuku in an ice pillar. Shoto is one of Izuku's closest friends - it really would have been nice for him to get something like Iida or Ochako - to parallel an earlier moment (here is an idea: get rid of the jarring US president moment that makes this page needlessly cluttered and put Shoto's ice there!)

But well, ok - if he left him off, that's because there is a twist right? We'll get a big TDDK moment, right? Or we get a finally a satisfying Origin Trio moment?? We'll get to know what was the point of the origins and rising and how it all comes together. Right?

Nope. What we get is Shoto being off-screen again (I'm not kidding you) for a "twist" or whatever, that doesn't even work as one. All these last chapters of holding off the TDDK moment was to reveal that Bakugou Katsuki who already had a huge team-up with Deku to save All Might that was good and satisfying, used Shoto's jump platform to reach Deku. (You didn't even need to hide the ice-platform for that!!)

I guess you could count it as a "recall" to the Class A combo scene in Dark Deku where Shoto and Katsuki work together to help Iida reach Deku or to the earlier Kamino rescue scene where Shoto's ice is the starting point of the rescue

But it really doesn't work when the visual is just this - Shoto gets a panel showing the size of an anthill, when he had Phosphor activated before and if it was gonna yet another ice move, it should have really been knocking on heaven's door and to boot, gets once again no lines and no scene neither with Deku nor with Bakugou in the end.

2. Well, if Horikoshi ruined Shoto's moment with Izuku it must have been for a fantastic, compelling team-up that had to be drawn exactly this way. Right?

The team-up in question is Deku punching through and Bakugou blowing up ShiraGiri's warp gate.

And Deku doesn't even stop and think, there is no internal conflict, there is no question about right or wrong. He went through Tomura's memories, so how much he cherished his friends, but not a single thought was spared about what ShiraGiri was trying to do.

Haha! Hilarious! So satisfying... FUCK THE THEMES!!! WOHOOOO!

3. Was any other dynamic destroyed?

Well, now that you asked, let me remind you that the Rooftop Trio whose dynamic and comeback was already shafted horribly was devolved to this:

Mic's emotional outburst over ShiraGiri's choice turns into wide-eyed Bakugou awe. Mic has no more emotions to spare for the tragic fate of ShiraGiri - what could ever take precedence over another layer of glaze for the main character, the inimitable, forever-winner-of-every-poll, Bakugou Katsuki?

It's a wonderful and logical character conclusion after all for the character who got twisted into an awful, insecure bully partly due to constant praise to share the spot of the most-praised character of the endgame with the toxic, outed family abuser, right? We must make loud and clear that there is a rEdEMptiOn aRC here in case some people missed it and they are so awesome because they are doing exactly what everyone else is. (I miss Bakugou who worked WITH Class A, who put on a tie to stand with them, who took out the trash quietly - that Bakugou was endgame material Bakugou. This current Bakugou to me feels blown out of proportion.).

4. At least we got a fantastic joke out of it. Right? Something new? A nuance and interesting moment between these two. Something special to be treasured by generations to come!

Well, ok. I guess cheritably it works like a recall to Ch 286. Maybe Shoto will catch Bakugou again. Strictly offscreen.

Don't worry. The crowd this scene was made for will be pleased. They have two weeks to gloat at the Ochako fans how Bakugou is the closest, bestest, amazingest, only-ever-important, special friend to Deku. Fuck the rest. They'll make hype, they'll tweet the tweets, blow up the trends and will successfully drown out the voices of the people who don't just focus on a single ship and care about the themes and dynamics and ask:

What happened to my MC?

What happened to the themes?

Btw, I'm not saying necessarily that Bakugou shouldn't have been back or he didn't deserve a moment. He did. He should have been part of Deku Rising last week as everyone else.

But looking at how Hori keeps fumbling the final arc, it's sadly fitting that instead of the chapter that raised Deku to his peak, Bakugou once again steals the spotlight in a chapter that wasn't about him and that tore down everything in a span of 15 pages that Izuku stood for as a main character.

I'd say I'll drop this manga, but it's too late. I'm still invested to see what happens with Touya and the Todoroki family, though after this chapter, my expectations are extremely low. All I can pray for is that Horikoshi doesn't assassinate Shoto's character as he did Deku's.

And maybe Deku is right and there was no other choice than to kill ShiraGiri (something Deku refused to do both to Muscular and Overhaul) and pulverize Tomura's body to ash while offering no words of comfort, but if Deku came to that decision, maybe the space wasted praising Bakugou could have been used for him to reflect on that, to grapple with the choice, to let us feel the sadness and weight of what he must do.

There is so much wrong with this chapter, with how Deku was written in the last part of the manga, with Shigaraki's "conclusion", with the AFO-overload, etc. This is just a small part of it. But I wrote it to show how much a badly placed scene can destroy several other important moments.

RIP THE THEMES. Crowd-pleaser won by KO.

#bnha meta #bnha 423 #bnha manga spoilers #bnha manga leaks #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku #present mic #kurogiri #bnha 422 #i feel rage and emptiness #to alternating degrees

[faeriecap]

you know what’s really fucked up? the mcu skipped over bucky’s entire character arc and sidelined any representation of not just his healing but all personality because no homo so he would be lucid and battle ready in like one freaking day to fight steve’s civil war uwu!!!!

because they passed over what should have been a gradual and natural reunion between him and steve, it got shoved into the civil war plot out of necessity but had to happen really fast. so all the REALLY good accords arguments steve has about violation of privacy and big government agendas and power structures becoming corrupted and dictating what the avengers do or dont do get completely ignored in favor of blaming steve’s actions on “infatuation” and “nostalgia.” and it’s played off as totally irrational????

Rather than it being him putting the needs of the people first and foremost AGAIN like he IS DOING!!!!so many viewers see his challenge of the accords and tony as a petty feud over a friend they view as not worth enough to even fight for. the absolute value of bucky aside, this puts him and steve in a position of not just selfishness but immaturity: steve acts like a child on the playground or a lovesick puppy. this could be personal platonic love, but imagine if bucky were steve’s long lost girlfriend instead (like if hydra took peggy). people would blast steve for being a fool in love much like they did wanda with vision in iw but they wouldn’t say he was as irrational for it! without that, bucky still gets the same treatment plus thinly veiled homophobia

some anti-woke fans literally mocked steve’s “weakness” with implications that they attribute it to him being gay for bucky. i mean looking back at some of steves lines theyre SO relevant and SO right!!! and so antifacism!!!! but they get ignored beause they force fed us surprise bucky!!!! and its almost like the film wants us to side with tony because the entire time steve’s resistance is played off as stupid and selfish FOR SOME GUY. it puts steve in a super negative light, objectifies bucky, and creates dislike for him because now hes nothing more than a catalyst and then erased for the rest of the mcu narrative????? just consider how the film would have been if it was completely absent of bucky? if all we heard were steve’s speeches on corruption and people using means to their own gain? of reading the fine print? of only being able to trust themselves and each other? 

td;lr: bucky’s development was twisted into a plot device that erased him of all personality because they didn’t want to devote the proper time and care to his storyline and they did that to fit it into the civil war plot line but it wasn’t even worth it because all it did was put bucky and steve in a negative light and as such steve’s entire argument in civil war becomes a big joke which sucks because he makes some top notch points

#but jay you say it’s been almost ten years and we have fatws now aren’t you over it #FUCK NO #I WANT RETRIBUTION #I WANT PEOPLE TO HAVE MEDIA LITERACY #I WANT A GOOD CAP THREE #WHAT THE HELL #yeah i overused italics here you’ll live #i speak #stevebucky #stucky #anti mcu #mcu #marvel #marvel critical #marvel crit #mcu critical #mcu crit #cacw #captain america civil war #captain america #steve rogers #bucky barnes #long post

[theemporium]

Yay congrats!

My order: a smut-berry daiquiri (21 - if you want to come, you’ll have to beg.”)

Hot hot, can’t wait!

thank you for requesting! i partially blame @hischierhoney for my feral nico mood🤠anyways, enjoy!

21. "If you want to come, you'll have to beg."

.

It was a stupid fight. 

An incredibly stupid, downright dumb fight that escalated far more than it should have. And to be honest, on any other day, it would have been a small fight that you both would have rolled your eyes and laughed at the very same day because it was stupid. 

Today, however, was not one of those days. 

It had been a cumulation of things that led to the tension in the fight: between Nico spending every free moment on the ice or at the rink and you being swamped with projects at work, the two of you hadn’t had time for each other. It was something you were both at fault for, and the work stress did not help the situation. 

And maybe—just fucking maybe—you missed having each other’s attention. But somewhere in the stress and the tension and the pressure, you both seemed to snap over something as stupid as one of you forgetting to unload the dishwasher. 

Which led to you giving Nico the silent treatment on the first day off that the two of you had lined up.

And you regretted it almost the second you started it because half an hour in, you missed him. You missed being able to curl up on his lap. You missed listening to him tell you stories about the boys that you had missed in the last few weeks. You missed standing in the kitchen, both of you moving seamlessly around each other whilst you cooked together. You missed him and his smile and his arms wrapped around you and—

You just really missed your boyfriend. 

But you were stubborn. One of the most stubborn people he had ever met and, despite knowing how you felt considering the fact you were lingering in the living room with him instead of locking yourself away like you usually did when you were mad, you weren’t just going to give in and break the silent treatment. 

Which meant Nico had to get creative with the ways he got you to finally break. 

“I—” You cut yourself off, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you felt his soft kitten licks against your clit. 

“C’mon, baby,” he mused, a hint of something teasing and smug in his voice as he squeezed the fat of your thighs. “Gonna keep hiding those pretty noises from me still?” 

You pressed your lips together, determined to bite back the moans you so desperately wanted to let out as you pushed your face into the arm of the couch you were currently sprawled on. 

“Hm, still being difficult?” He murmured, his warm breath fanning over your soaked cunt and you couldn’t resist the urge to buck your hips a little. “Look at my girl, so fucking wet and ready for me. Bet I could just slide right in, you’d take my cock so well. Like you always do.”

And at that, you couldn’t help but let out a pathetic whine.

“There’s my girl,” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh as his hands pressed your hips down into the couch. 

“Nico,” you groaned, squirming under his hold with a small huff of annoyance when you felt him continue to give your thighs the attention your pussy wanted. 

“You finally done with the silent treatment?” He asked, spoken so casually like he was talking about the weather. Like his face wasn’t buried between your legs moments ago.

“Please,” you grumbled, your pride long forgotten as you glanced down, the sight of him grinning up at you with a few strands of hair in his face making your stomach twist with desire.

“Nuh uh, honey,” he shook his head, keeping your legs spread just how he wanted you. “If you want to come, you’ll have to beg. Let me hear that pretty voice.” 

“Nico,” you whined but he lightly nipped your inner thigh in response. 

“You sound pretty when you beg, baby, let me hear it,” he murmured before he leaned down, licking a slow, broad strip along your cunt. He delighted in the way your back arched off the couch in response. “I know my pretty girl can be good for me, yeah? Beg and make those pretty moans and I’ll make you come as many times as you want, schatz.” 

And truthfully, you would have been a fool to turn an offer like that down.

.

#cece's cocktail celebration #nico hischier #nhl #new jersey devils #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier x you #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier fic #nico hischier one shot #nico hischier smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl smut

[mdhwrites]

I’m honest to god baffled that fantasy shows like Steven Universe, Amphibia, Star Vs The Forces Of Evil, and Gravity Falls have an abundance of memorable human characters with memorable locations that make you want to live in that human community while The Owl House BARELY has any of that.

Camila, Jacob, and Masha are probably the only human side characters that are memorable and have a impact on the story, and Gravesfield is too forgettable and full of not so good people (which even then is questionable considering Luz’s antics) that it makes it hard to want to live there.

It’s almost as if TOH is desperate to want people to want to live in the demon realm and forget about appreciating Earth and being human, which ends up making it even more immature compared to other shows that at least TRY to express how important it is to appreciate your human side and it makes the main human characters much more likable cause they know being human is just as important.

If Luz doesn’t bother to appreciate her human world more, why should I care about her?

This isn't a bug; It's a feature.

(Before I begin, just as a reminder: Fuck JK Rowling. I hate how much I have to praise Harry Potter for this.)

There is a LOT to say about TOH wanting to be the Harry Potter for a new generation. The concept that all of humanity is worthless so you should escape into our other side of reality is a big thing there too. Part of why Harry Potter, and ESPECIALLY Hogwarts, means so much to people that they literally can't give it up is because of the escapist fantasy involved with it. The story made one believe anyone could be whisked away to a fantasy realm where they were important. Where they could face the bullies and win. Where they could be so much more than reality made them feel.

The Isles is pretty clearly meant to feel similar. It's the ONLY explanation for why Belos' tyranny isn't actually present besides to make being an apprentice to Eda even cooler than it normally would be. The Coven System could be inspired by a lot of things, like D&D, but it's hard to deny that Harry Potter is the easiest example, especially with The First Day reinforcing that even the school is divided up by these covens. There is ZERO bigotry, of literally any sort, even magical preference, because that would make the Isles unappealing. It wouldn't be somewhere anyone would want to escape to because the world would be too much like our own.

This is further reinforced by how Harry Potter has the Dursleys while TOH has just implied repression of Luz... Except that it DOES have more, doesn't it?

This is part of why I think TOH fails in this regard. Why we don't see a lot of TOH OCs, or Hexside OCs, minus future kids which is just mashing the canon characters together. It's too insincere and too modern a work in order to actually be the escapist fiction it wants to be. Again: There are MAJOR storytelling concessions to make it more attractive as escapist fiction but it won't commit.

This is why we have Camila as our main representative of humanity. The 'trope' is to make her awful. The worst person imaginable. The Dursleys fit that after all. But modern writing trends are too self aware for that sort of thing. They need to try and twist tropes to look clever (I would date the start of this somewhere around Frozen) or else they look silly and are to be thrown away. So instead of the evil home life to run away from like in Harry Potter, where that gives Harry permission to only care about the new world he's entering, even if it's just a secret society, we instead have Camila. The saint. The one who is first wronged by Luz and never really gets made up to by Luz because, well, that goes against the fact that Luz is clearly meant to, even by the end of S1, want to choose the Isles over humanity EVERY TIME. Why she starts an entirely new life there without even thinking about things like, I dunno, how the fuck do I keep dating this witch when I go home. Amity and her never do have a real conversation about the promise because that's inconvenient to the escapist fantasy.

This attempt at being 'clever' over being sincere is also why Hogwarts is a much more magical, literally and figuratively, setting than the ENTIRE ISLES. There is magic and secrets and interesting discoveries at literally every turn at this one school. Meanwhile, TOH wants to be able to make modern social commentary despite the fantasy land its in, and also wants to be taken more seriously than fantasy often is, so it needs to be grounded and mundane and mostly like our own world because otherwise they might actually have to make a world that's interesting. It fits into modern writing trends that give Twitter easy fodder to talk about THEMES, regardless of how well those are actually tackled, but get in the way of being escapist. Of creating a world that you'd actively beg to live in.

This is actually something I'll give modern isekai and is a large part of why it's so popular: It is extremely escapist. Even the more serious ones still make the main character be the biggest badass ever and the 'dark' elements actually conform just to make him a bigger badass. To give him more than he already would have by genre convention. They do that mostly through sincerity of concepts. By going "This is what we're doing, this is what we're giving the audience, FUCKING GO."

TOH never has that unity of purpose.

BUT

This lack of unity of purpose also meant that while PLENTY of anime are bigger, more popular and more influential than TOH, as far as western media goes, it was a strength. Like I said, it leans into current trends with writing. It is unique, even amongst anime, for having an explicitly LGBTQIA+ main character, adding to the escapism for those specific groups. All while packaged as a kids show for those who don't like kids shows, much like how Avatar for many is anime for those who don't like anime.

Now this is where I might talk about the other shows you brought up, especially Amphibia but, well... None of them are going for such pure escapism. Bare minimum, their main influences aren't pure escapism. They're more rooted in old isekai or just straight aren't influenced by isekai or Harry Potter. They're genuinely more complex about the relationship between the worlds because for their stories, both worlds actually matter. Neither is meant to be entirely abandoned like TOH wants to abandon the human realm.

There is a reason why Luz ends the series only learning about magic after all despite claiming to live in both realms because she has no interest in the human realm. There's a reason the villain is pro-human realm. It's all meant to point to not just wanting to run away but encouraging it. That's not even always a bad thing. I've written porn for god's sake, the last thing I can criticize is the desire for escapist fiction. It has its place.

TOH would fill that place better if it would just be honest about what it was. I'm still glad it comforts those who need it to be their escape though. See you next tale.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#the owl house criticism #toh critical

[tobiasdrake]

Have you read the Dragon Ball Super manga? You've stated in the past that you're more of a fan of the original manga than the anime adaptation, so I was curious what your thoughts are on the current continuation of Toriyama's original manga, seeing as how the manga had some Toriyama supervision and was based on his notes.

While I do prefer the manga to the anime, I will say that both versions of Dragon Ball Super are hit-or-miss. There are basically three creatives at work with DBS.

Toriyama, up until his passing, would write story notes and some individual plot points down and pass them off to Toei and to Toyotaro. Lotta To- names floating around Dragon Ball.

...he said with no sense of self-awareness at all.

But this is Toriyama twenty or thirty years later, so he's not exactly the same creator that wrote the original manga. His memory of his own work has drifted; For instance, while writing Battle of Gods, he forgot that Super Saiyan 2 even existed and thought SSJ3 was SSJ2.

It had been a long time for him. He only got back into Dragon Ball because Dragon Ball: Evolution pissed him off. Explaining in the 30th Anniversary Super History Book:

"Dragon Ball once became a thing of the past to me, but after that, I got angry about the live action movie, re-wrote an entire movie script, and now I'm complaining about the quality of the new TV anime, so it seems that DB has grown on me much that I can't leave it alone."

The movie script he rewrote was, of course, Battle of Gods.

Famously, after seeing Evolution, Toriyama basically marched into Toei to see what they were making, ripped up the script for Battle of Gods, and rewrote the whole thing. He was just. So. Incensed. By Hollywood's butchering of his work.

So, in a twisted way, we have Dragon Ball: Evolution to thank for the resurrection of the Dragon Ball brand. I know, it's so weird.

This was Toriyama's formal return to the world of Dragon Ball after decades of just writing little story bits here and there or designing a character or two. Though just writing story bits here or there is more or less what he settled back into with Super. Toriyama would write notes about what he wanted to happen and deliver them to Toei and to Toyotaro, and the two would separately interpret those notes into their own vision.

You can tell what's from Toriyama versus what's from Toei or Toyotaro based on what plot points end up being hit by both versions versus what's unique to one interpretation or the other.

So, this:

Gohan facing down the fused Kefla and sacrificing himself in a double KO to take her off the field? That's Toyotaro.

Super Saiyan Blue Kaio-ken? That's Toei.

Goku has never kissed Chi-Chi in 20+ years of marriage because he's aroace and they're basically playing house for keeps? That's Toriyama.

Android 17 being the key factor in winning the Tournament of Power because his Android energy can't be sensed the way ki can, that's something that came down from Toriyama. 17 pretends to self-destruct using the bomb he doesn't have anymore; The one Krillin once used Shenron to remove from him.

But Toei has 17 emerge for the fight with Jiren, so he can briefly join Goku and Frieza in fending Jiren off - before they tell him to fuck off because he's not supposed to be in this scene.

While Toyotaro has him remain hidden under his cloak of ki-sensing invisibility for a last-second surprise.

But like I said before: Writing Dragon Ball again after twenty years away out of spite towards a bad American production, Toriyama isn't the same creative he was when this was all fresh and new and exciting. He was just as prone to characterization slip-ups and questionable decision-making as Toei and Toyotaro are.

I mean. That was even happening in the original manga. Remember that time when any part of the Android arc honestly? Good times. Nobody's perfect.

So, like I said, with Super, it's really hit or miss on both sides. Sometimes Toriyama's collaborations with Toei give us the heartwarming and beautiful friendship relationship between Broly and his new pals Cheelai and Leemo.

Or this. Especially this.

Nothing in Dragon Ball has ever, EVER been as funny as when Goku and Vegeta made Frieza hold the line against Broly, a nemesis Frieza brought to Earth to kill Goku and Vegeta. Taking advantage of his berserker rage in the most comical and beautifully karmic way possible to buy them time to work out the Fusion Dance.

And sometimes they give us yet another version of the Gotenks failed fusion joke they need to flog like a dead horse every single time a Fusion takes place in any piece of media they have ever produced.

DO YOU REMEMBER THAT TIME DO YOU REMEMBER DO YOU FUCKING REMEMBER THAT TIME IT WAS SO FUNNY DO YOU REMEMBER IT

That is Fusion Reborn, Yo Son Goku and Friends Return, DBS: Broly, and DBS: Super Hero in order.

And for his part, sometimes Toriyama's collaborations with Toyotaro gives us Goku lighting the fuck up like Spirit Korra.

And sometimes it gives us Vegeta learning how to teleport from the Yardratians but then immediately swearing off ever using it again because... I guess the move has Goku's cooties on it or something.

"Vegeta, you can teleport!"

"No, I cannot! I demand divergent character evolution from this manga so I will forever forego ever learning the cool and useful techniques that you use, Kakarot. What do you mean my dialogue sounds like a fourth-wall breaking author screed?"

This is honestly one of my "favorite" things that ever happens in Super. Vegeta refuses to learn Ultra Instinct, the ultimate martial art of the gods taught by Whis, and demands another path to the same kind of power that does not exist.

Then Beerus, a character who has long been established as vastly inferior to Whis, is like "Wanna learn this other thing that's just as good as Whis's thing I swear?" and helps Vegeta learn a new art where he... *checks notes* ...lets his opponent punch him in the face without defending himself until he dies.

This is where you end up when your mission statement is to not do the things that actually work for the intelligent martial artist and instead do the opposite out of spite. You end up with a fighting style that's built around losing fights on purpose.

Toyotaro somehow manages to shill the hell out of Vegeta and downplay Goku while also making Vegeta look like the most useless idiot ever. Ultra Ego is the worst transformation in the history of Dragon Ball and I'm convinced that Beerus helped Vegeta develop this as a prank.

He's up there right now laughing his ass off.

So. Yeah. There's a lot to like but also a lot to not like about both versions of Super. It's very different from what the original manga is, and it has very different pluses and minuses between the two versions. But there are some gems to be found here.

And the biggest gem is this guy.

#dragon ball #dragon ball super #son goku #vegeta #broly

[ethereal--muse]

𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘕𝘰𝘸, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭...𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘦...

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: tony stark x daughter!reader (platonic) ; steve rogers x reader; brock rumlow x reader; dark-ish!rafe cameron x reader; ward cameron x brock rumlow (platonic); bucky barnes x reader (platonic; maybe romantic later)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: noncon; sexual violence, physical violence; mental abuse; verbal abuse; age gap (reader is turning 20 in future chapters while Rumlow is in his early-fifties); pre-civil war; blood; violence; choking; talks of murder; politics i know nothing about lol. 𝗜𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝘂𝗽𝘀𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝗗𝗡𝗜

𝐚/𝐧: reblogs, comments and asks are always welcomed. 𝘦��𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮�� 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴. pls send me more requests <3

✶𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭✶

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @willowpains @rovckwells

You didn't quite remember your wedding day...or, as you called it, the day of your death. You couldn't believe your own father made you do this, selling you to the monster you've always avoided. You felt like a little sheep being fed to a wolf.

You were drunk that day, drunk on your own tears. You were young after all, too young for this cruel life and world. Every wish, every dream and every hope of yours was crushed that day, turning you into a plain, alive soul, forced basically to live.

Brock Rumlow grew incredibly much the past years, becoming the principal leader of New York, Florida and a wide part of Washinton. His dark aura had always terrified you as a child, usually when he came into your home and discussed business with your dad. You never understood why your dad, such a good man in your perspective, would make deals with him. This thought haunted you as you grew up.

But being thrown directly in his arms as soon as you were old enough was pure torture, unimaginable for you.

You still remembered the night before your wedding, as you begged your father, Tony Stark, on your knees not to make you do this. But, obviously, your pleas and cries were ignored, his "career" and "business life" were more important for him that his own fucking daughter.

Somehow, you still managed to love your father, because, after all, he was the only family you had. But, deep down in your achy soul, you were numb towards him for what he did to you.

Of course, men did not care. They never cared. But you did. And it wasn't fair, it was your life. They had no right to take it away from you.

You watched the fat drops of the rain running on the huge glass of the bedroom. It was quiet in the massive mansion, your husband was not home, thankfully. Your thoughts wandered, as always. You couldn't sleep, you missed your dad, you wanted to be home, not in this dark hellhole.

Your spirit was broken. The first days you tried to fight Brock back, you tried to resist. The dark bruises on your face reminded you of how fucking stupid you were. You had also tried to talk back, ignore him. The memories of your swollen lips, your cutted stomach, bruised hips and sore core were tattooed on your brain, reminding you every single second of who actually owned you and what was your life like now.

Distant barks of the dogs pierced through the massive wooden door and you flinched. Your heart skipped a beat. "no, no..." you whispered. He was supposed to be gone till next weekend.

You looked around and grabbed a sweathshirt, pulling it over the thin white dress quickly, and praying you'll get to the balcony before he enters.

You opened the gigantic door as quietly as possible, and you heard him. His voice deep, the twisted tone and everything made you fill up with horror. He was shouting at his men. The black dogs were between his legs, wiggling their tails, happy to see him.

You shot your glance down, and you felt his burning gaze on you. Now you had to go next to him, for your own sake.

You weren't stable on your own legs, feeling your knees buckle as you approached him as fast as you could.

Rumlow took a big step towards you and wrapped his arm around you. It was heavy and rough, not even trying to seem loving. This was his nature after all: twisted; monstrous; depraved...You winced when his fingers pressed in your waist and the bruises there.

"How about a pretty smile for me, sweetheart?" he muttered in your hair. You looked down, trying not to run from him and from this entire damned life.

He wasn't pleased with your disobedience, but fear paralysed you. You just couldn't think.

He barked an order again and another of his men brought him a glass of thick alcohol. You only looked down, praying that he has another things to do.

You tried to pull away from his grip, but he strenghtened it. You hissed as he started dragging you to his office. It was bad, you knew it.

Some of the men opened the door and the scent of cigarettes, alcohol and cologne burnt your throat. The tremendous room was dark, only the lights of New York coming through the window, butvthe lights were turned on quickly.

Rumlow stepped in before you and you followed him, just as the pretty little quiet pet you were.

You went past him and sat down on the enormous leather couch, trying to make yourself as small as possible. You started fidgeting with the sleeves of the sweathirt as you looked down.

"We're havin' a big night...my partners are coming to discuss business..." he started, and you looked up at him. "Behave..."

Your fear was replaced with annoyance. Of course, after all, you were young and you somehow...forgot your state.

You get up and try to leave. "Did I tell you to leave?"

This time, you rolled your eyes. "You don't have to-"

All of a sudden, your jaw was gripped in a steel grip, and you were pushed in the wall behind.

Your heart started beating faster and tears pooled your eyes. "Don't fucking cross me, baby. I thought you learned that already."

"I-I'm so-orr-" you whispered as good as you could through his grip. Your heart was beating fast, questionably fast, as you cursed your actions.

"Shut the fuck up!" he shouted and you flinched hard. "Learn your place. I could fucking kill you, remember that." he finished, releasing your jaw.

"D-do it! Please..." you cried through sobs.

He chuckled to himself mockingly. You were terrified, angry and tired. "You really are a stupid little girl, aren't you, swetheart?"

When he turned back to you, you flinched and tried to back off as fast as you could. He grabbed the hair from the back of your head and you winced. "I said I could kill you, not that I would. I paid millions of dollars for you. Fucking millions!" he roared. "I forgave your daddy of his huge fucking debt, only for you."

You flinched and choked sobs, hating to hear the curses in his mouth.

"Don't worry, baby, I won't kill you...I need you alive. I got rid of every whore and club just for you, my ungrateful little slut." Your gut twisted with disgust as you tried to avoid his eyes.

Rumlow sighed and tightened his grip on your hair, pulling your head back, to look at your face. You felt infant, caged. "If you misbehave, I'll slit your daddy's throat, understood?" he asked. You felt sick and quickly nodded, as his grip allowed. "and, I'll keep you in a fucking basement as my personal slut and you won't see the light of the day again, trust me."

You sobbed, tears running freely now. You couldn't breathe. You wanted to die, to disappear.

He let go of your hair and grabbed your jaw instead. He roughly ran his thumb over your wet cheeks and over your lips and you flinched. "Go and put on something prettier, baby...and come downstairs, understood?"

You shakily nodded. "Use your words, baby..." he said as he let go of your face completely. "..y-yes" you whispered, looking down.

As you were getting out of the office, you heard the words that pierced through your soul.

"Oh, and...don't cover the marks...those motherfuckers need to learn not to cross me."

#brock rumlow imagine #dark! steve rogers x reader #dark!rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron #rafe imagine #brock rumlow #marvel fanfiction #marvel #obx fic #outer banks #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #tony stark #tony stark x reader

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Pan Says... (9/?)

Summary: After waking up in a strange room with a naked stranger, Emma and Killian must endure the twisted game their kidnapper insists they play in order to gain provisions and avoid punishments.

A/N: Check it out, y'all! Another update from me! Lots of love to @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4 for their exceptional beta skills! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I did writing it!

Rated E / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six  / Part Seven / Part Eight

Chapter Warnings: exhibitionism / voyeurism. role play.

Part Nine

“I don’t know who you are, or what sort of game you’re playing at, but this isn’t funny!”

Emma glanced at the monitor overhead, the timer quickly counting down the minutes she had left to try and convince David that she was really Emma, that she was alive, and in need of his help.

“David Robert Nolan, shut the fuck up and listen to me!” she yelled over the receiver.

“What did you just call me?”

“I called you by your full government name,” she said. “David Robert, after your father, Nolan. Or would you prefer I call you Charming like Mary Margaret does?”

“How do you know--”

“Because it’s me, David! It’s Emma! I’m alive and I need your help!”

“Emma?” he questioned over the line, the hope she knew he wasn’t sure he should dare to feel leaking into his tone. “Is it really you? How? Where are you? Where have you been? Who did they pull out of the--”

“Just listen, okay?” she interrupted as the time rapidly dwindled. “I don’t know who that woman was or how he faked my death, but I was abducted three weeks ago by someone who calls himself Pan. I was taken from outside the police station after dropping off a skip. I was tasered. I’m here with a man named Captain Killian Jones. He has a brother named Liam, who also was led to believe that Killian was missing for reasons other than kidnapping. I need you to find him. He’ll be trying to get a hold of you, because Killian just called him, too, and let him know what’s been going on.”

She flicked her gaze to Killian, still looking shell-shocked from the emotionally charged conversation he’d had with his brother. He’d wanted to stay by her side whilst she made her call, but she’d told him to go sit and take a moment. They’d be there for one another later. It was why they’d chosen to wait and make these calls before turning in for the night. So they could just lay in bed and hold each other in the aftermath.

“What has been going on?” David demanded, bringing Emma’s focus back to her brother. “Why would this Pan person take you? What has he… are you alright? Has he hurt you? Did you escape, is that why you’re calling now? Do I need to come get--”

“No, we haven’t escaped. We… we sort of… earned a reward. Look. It’s too much to explain right now. I’m going to give you some specs of the place we’re being held in. Write them down so you can give them to the police.”

Emma waited as David searched for a pen and paper, her heart thudding wildly in her chest as the timer continued to draw closer to zero.

“Okay. Go.”

Emma rattled off the information Killian had put together for them; the estimated size of the facility, features he’d been able to make out that might make the building distinguishable, and details about the different rooms (though she hadn’t told Killian about the medical suite she’d been in, and hated that she couldn’t tell him or David about the doctor, for fear of Pan’s threat against Killian’s pound of flesh) that might aid in their search. She also mentioned that there were others here, so perhaps they could find a link between their missing person cases and others with similar details.

“Got it,” David said. “What… what else can I do?”

“Nothing,” she said, her throat tightening and tears welling in her eyes. The carefully constructed fortifications she’d put in place in order to get through the call were crumbling fast, but she couldn’t fall to pieces just yet. “Just… Just know that I’m alive and that Killian and I need you to get the police looking for us again. And…”

“And?”

10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5…

“And that I love you! I love you both!”

0… dial tone.

The receiver slipped from her hand and clattered against the concrete floor. She was pretty sure Killian returned it to the base before sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her to the bed. Laying her down gently, he crawled onto the bed beside her and gathered her in his arms. With the last of her strength, Emma pressed closer to him, molding their chests together and tucking her head beneath his chin. Long, quiet minutes stretched out with only their unified heartbeats filling the void, neither of them capable of saying much of anything until Killian broke the silence.

“He sounded destroyed,” he murmured, his tone flat and watery from the tears he’d shed after hanging up with his brother, and again as he’d held Emma while she spent hers into the front of his shirt. “Your brother sounded as though he’d been given a noble quest, while mine…”

“You told him not to beat himself up over it,” she reminded him. “To not dwell on the fact that he’d believed the lie Pan sent him from your email address.”

“Aye,” he sighed.

She knew he was running the conversation over in his mind. The way Liam had sounded ecstatic to hear from him, asking about his travels and when he thought he might return home. The way the line had gone silent after Killian had revealed the truth. The way his brother had sounded broken and utterly ashamed that he’d fallen for the trick, too eager to believe things had turned a corner for his brother, blinding him from seeing the cracks in the story that might have caused him to be suspicious enough to follow up.

Killian had spent most of the call comforting his brother and apologizing for the things he’d said when last they spoke, breaking open old wounds they had not the time to properly dress so they might begin to heal. Their time had gone so fast. He’d barely been able to convey the necessary details to him so that further action could be taken beyond the call before time ran out. She wasn’t even sure Liam had heard Killian tell him he loved him before the line had gone dead.

While her call to David had played out almost exactly as she thought it would, she knew Killian’s had not gone the way he’d wanted it to.

“At least they know now,” she said. “The truth is out there, and they’ll be looking for us again. That’s something at least.”

“Aye,” he agreed, though a bit hollowly. “That’s better than the alternative.”

“Hey,” she said, pulling back and lifting her gaze. When he didn’t meet hers right away she reached up and scratched her fingers through the stubble at his jawline. A huff left his chest and his eyes fell to hers.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to really clear the air with him. I know there were things you had to leave unsaid in order to get our message out, but…” She swallowed hard, willing back the fresh sob working its way up her throat. “Please don’t give up hope.” His eyes softened at the sound of her words catching and he buried his hand in the back of her hair. “I need you to help me stay optimistic here. I need you to tell me that we’ll still be able to tell them everything we didn’t get a chance to say to them today, because they’ll find us and we can say those words to their faces. Okay?”

“Emma, I…”

She could see his heart breaking in his expression and she chastised herself for guilt-tripping him, but… she meant what she said. She needed him to be strong with her right now.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said, holding her close to his chest once more. “Of course we’ll get that chance. We’ll have an entire lifetime to say all the things that need to be said. They’ll find us. Of that I’m certain. They’ll never stop fighting for us. And neither will I.”

“Good.”

~/~

Emma twisted and turned her torso in an attempt to find comfort, something that seemed to be an impossibility in the damned corset Pan had provided.

A corset that accompanied the wench costume she was expected to wear for tonight’s festivities. Festivities that made her stomach roll, or would have if the blasted corset hadn’t been cinched so tightly.

After a fitful night’s sleep and late morning meal, she and Killian had been escorted to different areas so they could prepare themselves as the evening’s entertainment. Per usual, her anxiety spiked when it became clear they were to be separated, and the spa-like environment where she would spend the day being pampered and prepped did little to calm her nerves.

The host of ladies who assisted in the waxing, facial, manicure, pedicure, massage, hair, and make-up services wore masks to obscure their identities and spoke in a language Emma could not identify. Although she attempted to question them individually, they either did not understand her, or had been instructed to pretend as such. The latter seemed more plausible given the furtive glances the ladies occasionally made towards the Lost One standing guard.

After a light meal, Emma was dressed in the wench costume; a more upscale version of the cheap, slutty knock-off one might find at a Halloween store. The women were dismissed and she’d been instructed to follow the Lost One, her trepidations spiking again as she padded down the corridor behind him. There were many twists and turns before they finally rounded a corner, revealing Killian standing in front of a set of double doors. Emma’s heart leapt at the sight of him and relief flooded her body.

Well, first relief, then… something else.

He was decked out in head to toe leather, his jawline manicured with an alluring amount of scruff and his eyes lined in a deep, rich kohl. His hair had been artfully tousled and his skin bronzed. Beneath the layers of black leather, he wore a smoke-like linen shirt, unbuttoned down to the v of his waistcoat, exposing a tantalizing amount of chest hair. The leather trousers were tight, but not so much as to appear painted on, leaving just a hint to the imagination of what lay beneath their laces.

“Swan?” he said, in an amused and sinfully deep tone. “See something you like, love?”

Now aware that her mouth had been hanging open, Emma closed it and swallowed hard before answering, “You look…”

“I know,” he quipped with a cheeky smirk and smugly lifted brow, earning him an eye roll before his gaze raked over her once more. “You cut quite the figure in that get up, I must say.”

“Cutting is right,” Emma groused, struggling against the tight confines of her outfit. “I can only imagine the impression this corset is leaving on my spleen.”

“Your discomfort is a cross I am more than willing to bear… especially after my earlier one.”

Emma raised her brows in response to his cryptic words and put-out tone.

Scratching behind his ear, the tip of which was becoming quite red, he confessed under his breath in a low mumble, “I’ve been manscaped.”

Her eyes widened, and although she knew better from her earlier perusal, they fell to his chest, ensuring herself that the thick blanket of hair remained untouched.

“Not there,” he said, exasperatedly. “Lower.”

Emma tucked her lips between her teeth to try and stifle her laugh. His disgruntled tone and expression were absolutely priceless, despite the circumstances.

“Well,” she said, placing her hand on his arm in commiseration. “That makes two of us.”

They shared a moment of joint amusement, until the sound of the doors opening pulled them back into reality, sobering their demeanors.

A Lost One waved them forward. This one, like the one who had stood guard over her throughout the day, was not either of the men who had been assigned to them previously. The ones who seemed to be connected to her and Killian, respectively, in some way.

With shoulders back and heads held high, they entered the theatre, hand-in-hand. The Lost One directed them to the platform and they were both caught off guard at the emptiness of the room.

“My guests will arrive in due course,” Pan’s voice echoed. “First, a few pre-performance instructions. Pan says…”

He started by pointing out the furnishings upon the platform: a leather chair, an antique writing desk, a chaise with several cushions, and a small side table with various toys, lubricants, restraints, and other items atop it, including a pair of domino masks and earbuds.

“Go ahead,” he insisted, “Pan says, each of you take a mask and an earbud. The mask will help obscure your identities and the earbud is how you’ll hear conversations and suggestions made by my guests.” After affixing their masks, they placed a bud in their ear. Pan’s voice was now, eerily, inside their heads. “You will only act on the suggestions that are accompanied by a green light that will illuminate along the back of the upper tier.”

Green light splashed against the back walls as an example before Pan continued. “Pan says you shall not speak unless instructed otherwise, and should only do so in character. I expect you to comply with the approved requests and show my guests a good time. Understood?”

“Aye,” Killian managed to utter. All Emma could do was nod, too choked with impending dread to speak.

“Good,” Pan crowed in their ear. “Pan says, get into character and have a good show.”

Before the doors could open, Killian swung Emma around to face him and pressed their foreheads together. “You and me,” he whispered, so low she barely heard him. “Just you and me, love.”

Emma closed her eyes and nodded, her forehead rubbing against his as she inhaled deeply. Opening her eyes, she connected her gaze with his, both of them silently giving the other permission to get into character and play out the charade: him, a fearsome pirate captain and her, his defiant wench captive.

Their audience finally filed in, initially paying them little attention, while greeting one another as they took their seats behind their screens. Emma took a seat of her own in the leather chair at the center of the platform as Killian casually leaned against the front of the desk with his arms and ankles crossed. It wasn’t until the stage began to spin, allowing all of the guests an opportunity to see the show from every vantage point, that the audience really took notice of them.

It was unnerving to hear their actual voices, and the comments being made as they assessed tonight’s entertainment. Emma kept her eyes squarely focused on Killian’s, attempting to block it all out, and had therefore almost missed the way his bejeweled finger was drumming against his arm, tapping out a rhythm against the leather.

You and me. You and me. You and me.

A greeting of welcome sounded out from the speakers and Pan took a moment to remind his guests to don their own earbuds and microphones, as well as set the stage for that evening’s entertainment.

As soon as the greenlight - literally - was given, a cacophony of voices flooded Emma’s ear as each of the guests threw out suggestions. Her stomach turned and tremors of dread rippled down her spine at the thought of what they would make her and Killian do, of the intimacies they’d witness, of the images they’d take away with them.

Reaching up, Emma adjusted her mask, assuring it was firmly in place. Closing her eyes, she tried to drown out the voices so she could collect herself. She wasn’t Emma Swan right now. She was a wench. A wench being held by a fearsome pirate captain. They weren’t seeing Emma. They wouldn’t be able to take anything from Emma Swan. All they would get from her tonight was a wench. A character. A fantasy. Nothing more.

The sharp tip of cold metal digging into the underside of her chin jolted her back to the here and now. Her eyes snapped open and Killian - no. Not Killian. The pirate captain - was standing before her with a dagger held to her throat. The room was flooded with green light, and Emma realized the first command had been issued. Swallowing against the pressure of the blade, Emma wet her lips, set her features, then lifted her chin in defiance.

“Seems she needs some convincing,” a guest said in her earbud. “I say we give the Captain free rein to order his wench about. Agreed?”

Others murmured their agreement and the green light illuminated once more. A wide, sinister smile lifted the corners of her Captain's lips and he twisted the dagger so the flat part of the blade rested beneath her chin.

“On your feet, wench,” he commanded, the blade prompting her to stand as he applied subtle pressure upward.

With a predatory gaze he followed the tip of the blade as it dragged across her skin, over the swell of each breast before dipping into the valley between. A shiver of desire coursed through her causing his lust-filled, darkened depths to flick up and meet her own.

He slipped the dagger beneath the laces of her corset and with several firm tugs cut her free from the restrictive garment. A relieved and rapturous exhale left her lungs, her breasts heaving from the joyous release.

“My, my,” Killian purred in his Captain’s voice. “Aren’t you a sightly bit of plunder.”

The tip of the dagger continued to tease and taunt her breasts, the tip swirling around and over each nipple until they were painfully erect and clearly visible through the thin fabric of her blouse. A few more tugs, slashes, and artfully placed cuts left her top in tatters, her breasts fully exposed to their audience and her pirate captor’s eyes. Eyes she chose to remain focused on as more suggestions were bandied about among the crowd.

A new suggestion was green lit, and the Captain stepped forward, closing what little space there had been between them. Trading their positions on the platform, he then pressed down on her shoulders and ordered, “On your knees for the Captain, wench.”

Emma lowered herself in front of him, a defiant, in-character, glare staring up at the smirk he gave her.

Sinking into the chair she had occupied a moment ago, he leaned back and crooked his finger at her. As she shuffled forward on her knees, his gaze hungrily taking her in, he commanded in a low and sultry tone, “Make good use of those hands and undo me laces.”

Her core clenched and she tried to remain in character as she reached up and loosened the laces of his leather trousers as though it were the last thing she wished to do.

“Good girl,” he praised. Slipping his hand into his trousers he pulled out his cock, not quite fully engorged yet, and began stroking it in her face.

“Now then.” She flinched when he tapped her lips with the head of his cock, hard. Taken aback momentarily by the action because she’d been distracted by her earbud, trying to decipher what the crowd was telling them to do next… not that it was a big leap. Reaching down he placed his thumb against her chin and applied a bit of downward force as he told her, “Open that whore’s mouth of yours and take my cock, wench. Let’s see how deft you are at shivering me timber.”

Her eyes watered and she choked against the assault of his member being forcibly shoved down her throat. Flicking her gaze upward, she saw the concern and apology in his eyes before he shut them tight and let his head fall back, an expression of arrogant dominance and self-satisfaction gloating from his features.

The laughter and jeers of the crowd filled her ears, as did the vulgar chant of suck his dick, applied in a rhythm that her Captain made her keep pace with from where he had her hair gripped in his hand at the back of her head.

“That’s it, love,” he praised, tapping out another rhythm behind her ear with his finger as she bobbed against his length. You and me, you and me, you and me.

She’d almost managed to tune out the mob when a woman’s voice grated in her ear.

“Well, hello there, sailor.”

Looking up, Emma saw a woman, decked out ostentatiously in hues of green, arriving late and making her way down the steps. In her hand was the microphone attached to the ear piece she wore. She paused, giving Killian a once over before slinking behind her screen and taking her seat.

Before she disappeared behind the thin veil of fabric, Emma recognized her by the mask she wore. It was the woman who had paused by the two-way mirror the night before to check her flaming red tresses.

“Do us a favor and flick those kohl-lined eyes this way,” she cat-called into her microphone.

The green light signaled from above and another light shone down over her screen. Emma stared up Killian’s body to look at his face and saw the muscle in his jaw clench and spasm before he flicked his eyes away from her and towards the screen, then held his gaze there as the platform continued to turn.

“Mmmm,” the woman hummed provocatively. “Yes, I think I’m going to enjoy tonight’s entertainment very much indeed.”

When the platform circled round again, Emma glanced over at the woman’s screen and could see the silhouette of her reclined back with her legs splayed wide, clearly pleasuring herself under the Captain’s gaze. A jolt of jealous anger ignited down Emma’s spine. Relaxing her jaw, she let Killian slip further down her throat until she could brush the tip of her nose against his torso. A cursing moan slipped over his lips and his hips bucked from the unexpected action.

“Nice!” a guest praised. “Make her take all of it, Captain!”

“No, you fool,” another guest chastised. “We don’t want him blowing his load too soon. Not when the wench has other holes for him to use.”

“I wanna see the wench take control. Let her have the reins for a bit.”

“Maybe next time,” someone countered. “I’m enjoying this too much.”

Next time!? Emma responded internally in a near panic. What the hell do they mean, next time?

“I think her breasts need some attention, too,” another chimed in. “Look how those nipples are just begging for attention.”

“I wanna see her cunny. I bet it is just dripping. Would love to see our Captain’s face glistening from her juices, wouldn’t you?”

All during their debate Emma continued to work her Captain over. She delighted in the way his chest hitched and heaved, the way the chords of his neck tightened, the rosy blush that developed high on his cheeks, the micro spasms twitching through his torso and down his legs, and the sounds… dear god, the sounds this man made.

Green flashed again and Emma was astounded at the way Killian managed to keep track of what was expected of them, given the distraction she’d been providing. Pulling himself from her mouth with a pained sounding grunt, he hauled her onto her feet then shoved her back onto the nearby chaise. She’d barely registered what was happening when he lifted her skirts up over her legs and grabbed her hips, pulling her body towards the edge of the cushion and lining her sex up with his eager mouth.

The exquisite torment lasted for what felt like hours. Time and again he brought her to the brink with his tongue, teeth, and hands, deftly assaulting her clit as he probed, scissored, and thrust his fingers into her holes. When his mouth tired he switched to one of the many toys, holding her on edge until tears streamed down her face and pathetic whimpers escaped her lips. Her back ached from the repeated arch his actions provoked and her legs quivered uncontrollably. A few times, he gave her cunt a rest, turning his attention to her breasts and laving them with his tongue while his slick-coated fingers rolled her nipples into taut peaks that he then sucked clean with his mouth.

The sound of their joint moans were echoed by those from the crowd. A symphony of zippers being undone, fabric being moved, skin being slapped, and groans being uttered filled her ears, making the torture all the more erotic. When she was finally given leave to speak, it was only so she could beg. Beg for mercy. Beg for release. Beg for him to fuck her.

And beg she did.

“Please, Captain,” she whimpered, choking on a sob that had caught in her throat from the fresh assault he was applying to her clit.

“Please what, wench?” he commanded in a strained gruff. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Please let me come,” she pleaded. “Please, please, plea--!”

She didn’t get the third please out before a scream tore past her lips, her body convulsing from the pleasure the vibrating toy at her clit was finally granting her. Wave after wave of release crashed over her until she was so spent she wasn’t certain she hadn’t blacked out. The next thing she knew, she was being hoisted off the chaise and bent over the desk, facing out towards the crowd.

The Captain’s body molded against her back, his breath hot against her ear as he growled, “I’d find something to hold on to if I were you, wench. Because I’m gonna fuck you hard. I’m gonna fuck you deep.”

Emma barely had time to latch on to the corners of the desk when the entire thing tipped forward from the force of his entering thrust. Relentlessly, he pounded into her, egged on by the jeers, cheers, and taunts of the crowd.

“Keep your eyes open, wench,” a voice demanded from the masses. “We wanna see you watching us take pleasure in your degradation.”

The green light commanded that she do just that, the silhouettes from behind the thinly veiled screens leaving little to the imagination of how much the audience was enjoying the show.

“She can keep her eyes on the lot of you,” the irritating woman’s voice said. “I want the Captain’s eyes back on me.” When the green light agreed, Emma could practically hear the woman’s gloating expression in her words. “Cast those come fuck me eyes this way, Captain.”

He must have complied, prompting her to purr, “Oooo, you are a wicked one, aren’t you. Would you like to have your wicked way with me? Tell me all the wicked things you’d like to do to me.”

With effort, given the pounding he was giving her, Emma managed to look back over her shoulder in time to see him flash the woman a wide, yet sinister smile before grunting, “I’d like to shove a gag in your mouth to shut you the fuck up.”

Applause rang out, as did a round of laughter, and Killian turned his attention back to Emma and the brutal pace he was setting.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he panted on a half groan. “So wet and so tight.”

“That’s it, Captain,” the crowd encouraged over the barrage of their own moans and sounds of satisfaction. “Take her. Use her. Breed her.”

“Yes!” someone cried out. “Breed her! Fill her for us, Captain. I wanna see your cum leak out of her afterward.”

The Captain roared from his release moments later, his fingers digging into her sides to the point of bruising as his hips moved erratically against her ass. Once every last drop had been coaxed from him, he collapsed and fell forward, sprawling across her back as his chest fought for each breath. Around them the sounds and smells of others reaching their own climax filled the air, then for a brief yet glorious moment, things went quiet.

One final swath of green filled her vision, and Killian murmured into her ear, “Stay there, love. One last task, I’m afraid.”

He removed himself from her and she immediately felt the warmth of his release slip from her depths and trickle down her thighs. He gave her ass a quick, firm slap, then spread her cheeks, allowing everyone to see the proof of his conquest as the platform turned one last time.

When the platform came to a stop, a curtain dropped, surrounding the stage and separating them from the audience's view. Killian assisted Emma off the desk and swept her up into his arms before taking them over to the chaise where he could sit and cradle her in his lap. They held each other as their skin cooled, their heartbeats regulated, and their breathing calmed.

“You were wonderful, Swan,” he praised, his fingers gliding across her back and down her side. “I’m so proud of you, love.”

“You, too,” she murmured against his chest, barely able to keep her eyes open, the exhaustion created from both their exertions and the stress of the situation starting to take hold.

“Here. Have her put this on.” A voice caused them both to jump and Emma’s head snapped to where a Lost One stood a few feet away with a robe offered in his outstretched hand.

Killian took it from him and draped it around her shoulders, then helped her to stand so she could secure it around herself.

“Follow me,” the Lost One commanded, setting off towards the door they had entered hours before.

“Are you okay to walk?” Killian asked, his tone full of concern and laced with guilt.

“I’m good,” she assured him. Tucking herself into his side, she added, “But I might need to lean on you a bit.”

“Lean on me all you need,” he told her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “But I don’t mind carrying you.” She flicked her eyes up at him and smiled when his Captain’s persona took hold once more. A surprised yelp squeaked past her lips when he bent down and swept her feet out from under her. Straightening, he adjusted her weight in his arms and cheeked, “I’ve carried rum barrels heavier than the likes of you, wench. So, I’ll have no argument.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

~/~

Killian gazed up at the ceiling, his arm wrapped around Emma as she lay curled into his side, the smell of her floral shampoo and conditioner tickling his sinuses. After they’d finished entertaining Pan’s guests, the Lost One had led them to the showers so they could clean up. They’d both been almost too spent and exhausted to wash, much less talk, and little had been said on the way back to their room, while dressing, or even after they’d crawled into bed.

While Emma had drifted off within moments of her head hitting the pillow, Killian had been unable to do so. Too many thoughts were competing in his mind. Thoughts of Emma playing her part as the defiant wench, the memory of her on her knees, splayed out on the chaise, and bent over the desk threatening to make him hard again. Thoughts of the crowd and how he hadn’t expected the proprietary feelings of satisfaction that had coursed through him as he took his wench in their full view, claiming her for his own. Thoughts of what those actions would mean for them now, knowing he had finished inside her without protection. Thoughts of everything the two of them had been through since they had awoken, naked, in bed together all those weeks ago, and… thoughts of what Pan might have in store for them next.

It was these thoughts that were keeping him awake the most.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Emma said groggily, her fingers twirling through the hair on his chest as she sleepily looked up at him.

Furtively, he glanced down at her then back up, unwilling to voice his thoughts to her just yet. Despite everything they’d been through, she seemed so content. In this moment she was safe and happy and hopeful.

He did not wish to deprive her of that.

“Hey,” she said, concern coloring her tone. Reaching up, she cupped his cheek and pulled his face back down, forcing him to look at her. “Tell me. What’s eating you up?” Propping herself up on her elbow, her brows pulled together and a slightly panicked expression crossed her face. “Please tell me you’re not beating yourself up about tonight. You know I would never hold any of that against you, right?”

“Aye, I know,” he responded quickly, not wishing for her to believe for a moment that his trepidations had anything to do with her. “It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I just… I wonder whether we,” he paused, taking a moment to swallow and fortify his resolve before confessing, “Whether we made the right decision.”

Confusion rooted deeper in her expression. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you… don’t you wonder why he let us call them?” he said, his fingers gently stroking her arm as a way to ground himself and hopefully keep her feeling connected to him as he attempted to voice his concerns. “Why he made it seem like agreeing to do what we did was the only choice we could make?”

“It was the only choice,” Emma countered emphatically. “Being separated from one another isn’t an option I--”

“But that’s just it,” he argued. “Maybe that’s the choice we should have made.”

Emma pulled back as though he’d just slapped her, and his heart broke at the vulnerability and hurt he saw displayed upon her face and in the tremor of her next words. “Are you… Have I done something to make you not want to…”

Sitting up, he took her face in his hands, leveled his gaze with hers, and assured her, “No. No, please don’t misunderstand me. Being separated from you is the last thing I would ever wish for. I just think that…”

Emma reached up and took his hands into her own, cradling them in her lap as she spoke. “Alright. Talk me through what you’re thinking, then. Why do you think it was a mistake to agree with his demands and stay together?”

Killian’s Adam’s apple bobbed and he drew in a deep breath, not wishing to voice his concerns for fear of making them real. He’d rather them both be prepared for the possibility, though. Everything they’d faced, they’d faced together. Choosing together. He didn’t want this to be any different.

“Each round of Pan’s demented game has escalated things between us,” he began. “First, it was stripping away our vulnerability. Forcing us to reveal things about ourselves that we would never normally reveal.”

Emma nodded and squeezed his hands. “Go on.”

Wetting his lips, he continued. “The second round was all about taking advantage of our attraction towards each other and getting us comfortable with sharing physical intimacy. This third round challenged and exploited the lines of physical intimacy we were willing to explore with one another.”

“Yeah,” she replied. “Each round has ratched up the stakes of our experience here, making us more and more compliant.”

“And each round’s rewards and penalties have reflected that.” He held her gaze with an intensity he hoped would lead her into understanding where he was going without him having to say it explicitly.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t quite getting it.

“I still don’t understand why you think it might have been best if we’d chosen to be separated.”

“What if the next escalation, or the one after that, is…” He swallowed past the bile working its way up his throat, “...actual harm to each other. Violence.”

Emma balked and her mouth dropped open with a gasp. Clearly, such a thought had not occurred to her until now.

“What if Pan makes us hurt each other? What then?” he continued on, pulling her into his arms and whispering the rest into her hair in a tone of apology. “Maybe he tricked us into staying together? Maybe we would be better off separated, because… Now we have to face what it would mean to have hurt someone we… how are we supposed to respond when faced with the command to injure the other? What would you have me do if Pan orders me to…”

Thoughts of the unthinkable made it impossible for him to continue, but after a few moments Emma pulled back and ran her fingers down the side of his face.

“We’ve already made our choice to stay together. There’s no point in wondering whether or not it was the right one.”

Killian nuzzled his face into her hand then turned his head to place a kiss on her palm.

“Besides,” she said, his tough lass straightening her shoulders and setting her resolve. “If Pan commands that one of us is to be harmed, then the harm will happen regardless.”

Killian cocked his head to one side, not completely sure what she meant by that statement.

Fortunately, she clarified, saying, “Either one of us will administer the injury, or he’ll have one of his Lost Ones do it. Either way… the injury will occur. There’s nothing either of us can do to stop it from happening.”

“Aye. You’re right,” Killian replied. “I suppose the thing we must ask ourselves is whether we can endure the guilt, and every other emotion that might come with it, should we be the one to inflict such pain on the other.”

Several silent beats of his heart went by before she softly, yet hesitantly asked, “Could you?”

Killian took another beat to truly consider the question. The question he’d been considering for most of the night. If Pan commanded it, could he hurt the woman he loved?

“No,” he stated definitively. “It’s one thing to administer a spanking to you, and quite another to…” He balled his hand into a fist and stared down at it, his Adam’s apple bobbing painfully. “The thought of putting my fist to you… I can’t. I won’t.” Gazing back up at her, he added, “And I won’t fault you for having a Lost One mete out Pan’s orders on me either. Especially if it will save you from having to carry that guilt, love.”

Emma nodded her understanding and acceptance, then prompted him to lie back down beside her. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” she whispered softly, though there was very little hope in her tone.

“Aye, love. Let’s hope so.”

Part Ten - Coming Soon!

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)

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#csff #cs ff #cs fanfic #cs au #captain swan #csfic #cs fic #cs smut #pan says... #words by hollye

[officialtayley]

So... Plot twist 

Hi everyone, is Emily/em/Sparks9397, make yourselves a snack this one’s long. 

I have a lot I'd like to say, but think a good place to start would be that yes, I’m very sorry for how this played out and for what I did, though, the pics were about as far as the lie went, guess doesn’t matter either way but yes, I am a lawyer, yes I live in Australia, yes that’s my dog, yes I have a boyfriend, etc. 

Honestly, I'm not mad at the anon in fact I was kinda expecting it? (someone was bound to get that’s not my pic), but you did caught me off guard last night and I panicked cause I thought better disappear and leave no trace behind, they all hate you anyways (you guys have been way too nice and fic gate is kinda funny), but I do like to twist the knife and did go back to it in the morning to check how badly i'd fucked up, is why i'm sending this.

if you want me to explain myself, well I was in a bad bad place last year when I started writing, the writing really help me through lots of stuff and for personal reasons i thought it was better not to add my pic, stupid me thought it was a good idea to share another person’s photo, who kinda looks like me if you want to believe that or not, but seems way happier, more stylish, more fun, etc and well you know how that ended... 

Was it necessary to keep posting more pics that weren’t mine, no obv not, yet believe it or not somehow in the past year my life got way better and I made it out of that dark place and was excited to share more of my life, my mistake to not just come clean instead of keep pretending I was someone else. 

Anyways, I could keep going with the apology but I don’t think it matters very much now, does it? 

So I’ll just use this time to say I'm realy really sorry Meike @paramorewillbelegends  and I’m really so so sorry Reese @dnd21, you both were really good friends to me and I'm so grateful to you both for being there for me when I had no one to talk to, sorry I couldn’t reciprocate and be a better friend to you. 

Ps. A03 was more leveled headed than myself during this time and though I deleted everything and didn’t have backup they sent me a copy of everything which I can repost if that’s what you want, but yeahh guess that's it for me, and thanks to Ash if you end up posting this (no pressure). 

i think your apology matters. you've obviously seen what i've said about what you did so i won't say anything more, but if you mean this then it's something people can forgive you for and move past.

i think it's better to do this than to do something drastic. as you can see, no one hates you, even any of us that may have sounded quite harsh, that's not hatred either. anyway, i appreciate that you sent this and i'm sure everyone else will appreciate it, especially your friends, so i'll post it because i think it's important and you didn't have to send it at all but you did, so again, i think it'll be very appreciated.

also you do whatever you feel is right with the fics. a lot of people may still want them but ultimately it's up to you and if you feel comfortable doing so.

#anon #answered #what a way to end ficgate