#i wish i can say that the original is better but it's not. i suck at drawing skeletons very well

[mysticmoondancer]

Skull Dragon

It’s a dragon made up of bones and is sort of like a zombie in a way since it’s like the living the dead. If its bones fall apart, it can easily reassemble itself back together again. It can’t breathe fire, but it can fire a laser beam of energy from its mouth, though. It can also control and freely move each part of its body or bones around in mid-air. Including sending them flying at you as another form of attack, only for them to then come right back and reattach itself in the proper place on its body. The only way to kill it is by burning its bones/body. And even though it’s a skeleton, it can still fly.

#Book Of Dragons page 73 #dragon #mysticmoondancer original artwok #art #i wish i can say that the original is better but it's not. i suck at drawing skeletons very well #but i still love the concept though! 😃 just not my execution of it though. 😑 #skeleton #skeleton dragon #also. sorry about the pose. this was the only way i could draw it very well enough

[be-good-to-bugs]

UGH why does eating always make me feel like throwing up :/ that is the opposite of what i want

#the bin #i feel less bad todaynthan i usually do. i think. but physically my body feels terrible. i am also still super stressed and sad but. i dont #feel as utterly horrible as i usually do so thats good i guess. i wish i could turn it into something productive but thats fine #i mostly wishbthat i could being myslef to do something fun like watch something or whatever but my brain still says no #and i wishbi could draw but my brain says no to that too #well. i can probably actually afford some weed after all bc itll peobs mostky be gas i gotta pay for for thw trip so #idk when ill see my sister next but ill have to fully figure this out then. and i gotta measure the inside of her boyfriends car so i can #know how much i can pack. i can also probably afford to get the things i wanted for my siblings from here before i leave. maybe. #gas will be a lot but they still owe me $300 so that helps a lot. i should be able to afford the trip fine. im really sad i have to leave #most of my stuff though. i dont trust my sister with it. but i dont have a choice so whatever. ill just have to deal. #well. im glad i dont feel so empty and horrible now. i hope it lasts and i can do something with it. its probs bc i had a meltdown honestly #ive felt like maybe thats what ive been needing to feel better. things still suck but i feel marginally better #usually i try talking to my mom just to get an ounch of social interaction and also i can complain abt stuff to her and she doenst tell #anyone. she has issues but shes pretty good about my privacy i think because shes scared id stop talking ti her if she broke that trust #which is true. i would probably stop talking to her. that was originally the plan before she stopled being such a bad mom anyway so #but idk. i havnet talked to her since she asked if i was coming to the funeral and i said no. she wasnt mad at me or anything but i havent #talke to her about non dad dying related stuff in a bit so. i shouod tho. im moving and i need to find out when a good time for that is. #and make sure she knows around what time i had been planning. and i need to know if she got an update about some stuff too. #also helath insurance stuff. im assuming she didnt end up getting a chnace to add me yet considering what happned. shes been busy #but my tooth pain has gotten even worse this past week so id like to see a dentist in june if possible bc god this thing hurts so bad

[jadedxhearts]

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐰 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 #𝟏𝟐

more HC's about "filming" with Law.

Warnings: smut, female reader, mentions of fisting and breeding

Originally posted on August 21st, 2023

Law loves the power he feels over you and your followers when the two of you stream together.

The jealous men in the comments, all wishing they could be him. He gets such a kick out of taunting them, making it known your pussy only belongs to himself, and nobody else.

But the other part he loves? Asking the viewers what exactly he should do to you.

He’ll be playing with your pussy lazily, rubbing circles into your clit or simply running a finger or two along your folds, simply getting you wet and ready for what you’re about to endure. Law watches the influx of comments, looking for an idea he likes. Most of them say things like “spread her so we can see better!”, “I’ve never wanted to be this man so badly before”, along with other dumb comments.

But then the people who send in tips with their comments come in, getting priority.

“Fist her”, the first one that Law notices says.

Law chuckles audibly, reading it aloud for you and everybody watching to hear. “Since you were so kind with tipping, I guess we’ll give it a shot.”

But he’s got to work you up to it. Law starts with one finger, quickly two, in your cunt. Swirling around and lathering up your juices, he begins his gentle attempts at stretching your hole. He scissors his fingers within you, deeming you ready for a third. The third finger adds a bit of that stretched sensation, and you’re actively moaning now, lightly squirming as Law holds you in his lap. Then the fourth finger joins, and you’re biting your lip, hissing as you prepare yourself for your lover’s entire fist.

The most the audience can see up to is your lips forming an “o” shape when Law’s fist slowly slides inside you. Your rolled back eyes are cut off from the camera’s view, something only Law can see.

Everyone, though, can see the way your juices gush out and slide down onto Law’s wrist. There’s a bit of a bulge in your lower abdomen, and it moves around as Law tries opening his hand, running all fingers and his palm along your gummy walls that burn with the stretch.

You’re screaming, legs shaking as Law fucks his fist inside you. He’s talking, taunting the audience and praising you, though none of it is registering in your mind. You cum, hard, squirting out onto the floor beneath you. There’s a huge influx of tips, comments and likes.

When Law’s fist leaves you, he begins reading through the tips again. One comment with a high number attached comes in, and suddenly everybody else starts commenting it too.

“Breed her!”

It’s like they’re all cheering Law on, demanding that he breeds you now. “Is that what you all want? To see her bred?” He asks, teasingly running a finger over your inner thighs and to your clit.

“Breed her! Breed her! Breed her,” all the comments read.

“Fine then. Let’s get her nice and bred, fill her up with my seed,” Law agrees with the comments, moving yours and his positions.

He moves you into a mating press, ensuring the camera can see your cunt with a good enough view so that they can all witness his cum pouring into you.

Law shoves his fat cock into you, pounding his hips to fuck you roughly. The noises in the room are ridiculous, and you almost wish you could see the comments and views, knowing the number would be one of your highest.

“Fuck, you’re just sucking me in, baby, aren’t you? Taking my cock so well, you just want my cum that bad, huh? You wanna get all full and knocked up, don’t you?”

“Yes, baby! O-ooh, fuck, harder, harder!” You scream, “stuff me with your babies, please!”

All you can hear is Law’s heavy moans, the sound of his skin slapping against yours, and the chiming of incoming tips.

“A-ahh, fuck! Fill me with your cum, please! L-La-“ you bit your lip, having nearly said his name. “Baby! Please, cum in my womb,” you cry out, loud enough that your audience will be able to hear; even with Law’s body pressing on you, therefore muffling any noises you make.

“Sh-shit,” he curses, shoving his cock as deeply into your pussy as possible, “‘m gonna cum, baby, gonna breed you like the good whore you are,” he growls.

You moan loudly, begging and whimpering as Law’s hot sticky cum starts shooting out, deep into your womb. You can feel it starting to fill you, meanwhile the audience can see as Law freezes his movements with one harsh thrust, balls slapping against your ass as he empties them into you.

You’re both moaning and whining into each other’s mouths, kissing through the intense orgasm you and Law are both having together.

Eventually, Law pulls out, taking the camera and aiming it directly at your cunt, using his fingers to spread your hole so that everybody can see all of the cum he’s stuffed inside of you. Law decides to leave the camera aimed at your pussy for a while, letting everyone, including himself, watch as the seed begins dripping out of your tired, over-fucked body, out onto the carpet underneath you.

And of course, you and Law had never gotten so many tips or views combined.

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #law x reader smut #law x y/n #law x you

[dirtyvulture]

Natasha Romanoff x GP!Virgin!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by anon: Hello God of Lust, thank you for continuing to provide us with your blessings 🙏

Would you possibly consider doing a flip of the GP!NatxCheerleader!R where it’s GP!Reader losing their virginity to a slightly teasing Nat? Reader begins to lose their shit *very* quickly but they’re trying their best to make it seem like they have it all together and the entire time Nat’s just stroking them and licking up and down their dick and finally Nat’s like “since you seem to be handling everything so well, you’ll be fine with me riding you, right?” And the moment Nat mounts R (very easily because Nat’s 100% been getting off to teasing R and listening to their moaning and panting), they completely lose it and explode within seconds because Nat just feels too good around them, how could they not 🥴

Kinda long, sorry 🙈 but thank you for your service once again, o’ God of Lust

AN: Anon, you filthy genius. 😙 Here’s the original fic, this one will have no plot whatsoever.

Your moans and pants are like music to Natasha’s ears as you struggle to keep your hips pinned to the bed. Your eyes are focused on her hand, already slick with your pre-cum, wrapped around your throbbing cock as she moves it up and down to pleasure you.

“Everything okay, baby?” Natasha asks, looking up at you through her long eyelashes with a devilish smirk on her lips. 

“Uh...yeah,” you gasp, your thighs quivering when her thumb rubs the sensitive spot under your tip. Your entire body feels like a rubber band stretched to its limit, and all Natasha’s done to you so far is give you a handjob. But you had never had anyone’s hand around your dick other than your own, and with a beautiful redhead lying between your legs, giving you her full undivided attention, you are seriously concerned about your stamina right now. 

“Your cock feels nice in my hand,” Natasha comments, and more pre-cum leaks out of your head at her words. You clench your jaw, wondering how much longer you can stand this, when she says, “I think you’d feel better in my mouth.”

“Nat--” You’re not mentally ready, but there’s no way in the world you are going to stop the Natasha Romanoff from putting your cock in her mouth. When she wraps her lips around your head, all you feel is wetness and heat, and you can’t stop yourself from sinking back on the bed, your loudest moan yet coming out of your chest as you grip the blankets in your fists. 

Natasha smiles as she takes a few more inches into her mouth, her tongue lapping at the pulsing vein that wraps around your cock. Your hips jerk up instinctively before you can stop yourself and Natasha gags around your length, but relaxes her throat so she can take you fully.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” you chant, no thoughts in your head as Natasha sucks your cock. She pulls away and you whine at the loss of heat, looking to see her licking along the vein, and your entire cock twitches. You have no idea how you’ve lasted this long, and you wish you could last forever, but Natasha is determined to give you your release.

She sits up and says, “Since you seem to be handling everything so well, you’ll be fine with me riding you, right?” 

You barely have time to comprehend her words when she swings her bare legs over your waist, lining herself up and sinking down on your hard cock. Natasha is soaking wet, clearly having gotten off on pleasuring you for your first time, and her walls hug your cock with a tightness and warmth that is unparalleled to any other body part she’s used on you so far.

“Nat!” you cry, overwhelmed by the stimulation that you pump your hips up once and completely empty your load into her. Natasha sighs as she feels your cum fill her up, rocking her hips gently until your whimpering and begging her to get off. 

“You owe me now,” she says with a devious wink.

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

AN: Absolute filth.

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #g!p #natasha romanoff x reader

[bonefall]

Now we've got all six of em, can I just say that CRIPES ALMIGHTY the titles for a starless clan suck major ass! Both separately AND as a group!!

I Do Not Rewrite Arcs Until They Are Done BUT DO YOU WANNA HEAR MY WIP RENAMES SO FAR

Remember: Don't get too attached yet, the only one I can say with certainty will show up somewhere is the title of Book 4.

ARC RENAME: A Starless Clan -> A Prayer Unanswered

The original name is really good but I'm getting a vibe that the theme of the rework is going to be... when love isn't enough.

It's about how some things can't get better. It's about how all the kindness in the world couldn't get Bramblestar to turn around as a leader. It's about how Heartstar might have had good intentions, but occupation never works out in the end. It's Nightheart's relationship to his family being salvageable, not because they don't all want to fix it, but because his life has worked out best with distance from them.

So, Prayers Unanswered is both about the religious part of how RiverClan doesn't have a leader and can't get in proper touch with StarClan, but it's also about every other wish that hasn't come true.

River -> Starcrossed One of the VERY large changes I'm considering is actually massively reducing Nightheart's POV. I'm thinking of doing this, not because I dislike him, but because I think it might actually be a better story if the audience is guessing as to his intentions just as much as the other characters are. So, until he's ACTUALLY needed later, his chapters are short and sparse. So Starcrossed would be about setting up the troubles of the Clans, especially the parts of the conflicts I want to highlight more in BB. It would be setting up the rule changes for "starcrossed lovers" (lmao) but also the brewing anger that the cats have towards code changes... and StarClan, if I do decide to keep the newest revelations and work them in better, in hindsight.

Sky -> Fracture There's a phrase in my head that is so interesting to me that I need to do something with it. "Only frozen water can fracture." I want to make the RiverClan situation worse than in-canon. First of all, there's going to be identifiable groups this time which begin to scramble for power. Instead of having the cats just... forget how to do the chores they've done their whole lives, the Clan is splitting up into factions. This is why they won't be able to win against Heartstar later, when she decides to take drastic measures. They're not fighting like a Clan; they're fighting like a bunch of disorganized teams. There should also be a bunch of needless injuries, maybe even a border aggression that lead to a death, before Heartstar barges in. I also want to make this a bigger part of the story, Erins willing. Too much time was spent on the Catnip Patrol, imo, we're going to have ANOTHER big trip and I don't want this one to eat up so much time. Rowankit is also still going to die; and maybe a couple of elders around the Lake too.

Shadow -> Snakes and Turnclaws Berryheart's hate movement has been too tame, from canon books 1 - 4 as of the time of writing. It's ridiculous that they haven't even injured anyone in the Battle Cat series. I saved Antfur from the previous arc so that she can die here. We've been seeing the Anti-Turnclaw movement rise from the first book, so now with Nightheart's boldness leading him to a place where he will be unsafe, we need to see his rusty butt in actual danger. I'm even thinking that, instead of Nightheart failing his task on purpose, Sunbeam makes him fail by stopping him from getting killed. I need to know the ending of ASC first though, because I MIGHT be having Berryheart getting her exile here. Whatever kills Antfur is either deniable enough that she's able to squeak by while Sunbeam quietly leaves (refusing to accuse her mother of anything publicly) OR it's so obvious that Heartstar casts her out on the spot. Meanwhile, we see the OTHER half of ShadowClan's conflict as RiverClan finally unites... against them, as their common enemy. Task failed successfully, Heartsy

Thunder -> The Source of the River I'm still unspeakably proud of this outline. There's so much I want to do here. She's going to come back with a DND party and I'm hoping that all of them end up in RiverClan with her; INCLUDING Nightheart. I want the fact that he accompanied Frostpaw to actually be the final straw for him. While he's away, Sunbeam is acclimating to ThunderClan and falling in love with her new home. There are parts she misses about ShadowClan, but as she's adopted by Sparkpelt, taken as a secondary apprentice by the deputy, smiled upon by Squirrelstar after she pressures Bramblestar to abdicate... this starts to feel like this is where she belongs. And that's too hard for Nightheart to ever come back to. "You come to the source of the river, and are vexed that you do not find the water that is flowing downstream" dude.... man. That's what BB's about. Change. I also really want Nightheart to choose HIS OWN NAME by the end of this series-- so at some point in this book he should finally admit "Nightheart" wasn't his choice either. (I'm thinking Deltastep. Because his journey with Frostpaw begins at the southern delta of my reworked map.)

And I haven't done them for Book 5 or Book 6 yet, especially since I might end up condensing them or chopping them up to put into the other books.

I do know I'm really love to play with the idea of a starless sky for one of the last books though, I may or may not keep Splashtail's lack of faith in StarClan (hate the Evil Atheist thing they keep doing), but the idea of a "Pitch-Black Star" absolute fucks as symbolism, ngl. Maybe something like "A Gap in the Stars" or "Constellation's Void" or "The Stolen Star"

Also also also I'm having Curlfeather come back as a Dark Forest Demon for at LEAST one scene.

I don't give a good goddamn if they don't go to the Dark Forest or not. ONE weird coincidence that could totally have been Just Good Luck but was actually Curlfeather. Let Her Drown Splashtail, she deserves it. Let her be a malevolent spirit who protects her baby. RiverClan can whine all it wants about Mothwing who ooo doesn't believe in God, Frostpaw's got a demon. Cry about it

Also I hope Frostpaw becomes leader because I'll make it go hard

#Mapleshade here like ''haha i will continue my curse on the appledusk bloodline'' #And Curlfeather looms behind her like ''dont.'' #BB!ASC #better bones au #ASC Spoilers

[tf-lover]

I know I’ve already wished you a happy birthday but I can’t help the opportunity to do it here as well. Just wanted to make sure that you know I love you and that I feel proud to call you my boyfriend. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing and I’m sure anyone who’s spoken to you knows that just as well. I feel so lucky to know you and have you in my life and I’m grateful that we were somehow able to meet through the unlikeliness of Tumblr messages of all places hahah! You deserve the world and I hope I’m able to give it to you ❤️

That said I’m glad you’re enjoying my present so far. It wasn’t easy to get my hands on that nanotech body suit. Expensive thing but well worth the money with how easily customisable it is at any time. I know you’re probably gonna be spending the majority of your time as a massive black stud but I can’t wait to see what other bodies you try out with all the customisation as well!

Of course I had to save the best of all of these birthday asks for last. ❤️

I couldn't ask for a sweeter man to call mine. That day I was bored at work and reading stories then messaged you from my main accidentally was one of the best and most unlikely outcomes ever. I wouldn't change a second of anything that led you to being the most wonderful boyfriend I could have asked for. I love you Mr Wavell, I can't wait for the rest of our days together.

That being said, I'm sure you all saw this picture I posted with the original post getting you to send asks in. That, if you can believe it was how I woke up! Already in the suit and programmed to look like my favourite stud, my boyfriend definitely knows me well. It was wild to say the very least waking up and feeling genuinely different; I thought I was seeing things at first until I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

Of course then when he walked in and called me by this body's name I knew who was responsible. After all the roleplays we've done this was really taking it to a new level with him acting like he was totally unaware of me being anyone other than Ched.

Still, I've had plenty of other fun with the suit too!

Taken a ride through a load of my other favourite men's bodies and fucked or been fucked in all of them. Flipped my gender and spent an afternoon teasing him about being a straight guy whilst riding his cock and making him grope my tits. Became a copy of him too for a little bit just to play out the twin fantasy.

I've had all sorts of kinky fun to say the least, but at the end of the day we both know who I'm always coming back to.

Like you suggested I started playing around with the customisation settings this morning. How do we think dreads suit me? There's a few other surprises too, but you'll have to find those out for yourself. All the hint I'll give you is try sucking my nipples next time we're alone together and see what happens. 😜

Thank you again though for the new suit, and for everything else you do to make my life better with you in it. ❤️

#male transformation #racial transformation #my writing

[milkzoro]

MY BABY GURL-

May you offer some more zombie Luffy please? I desire more of him-

I don’t mind him nibbling on my while he fucks my brains out- :3

sum more zombie!lu for yew 🤍

version 2 ! (original post)

⋆.✧̣̇˚.⚝𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪★ ✧˖°˗ˏˋ

a fever you can’t sweat out

luffy whined in bed all day, he laid there covered in sweat while tears stained his cheeks, he felt hopeless. this was something completely different for him, he wished he would feel better soon so that he would be the one taking care of you, even though you were completely fine.

after going over all the possibilities of the causes of his sickness, we were both stumped, “are you sure you didn’t eat something bad, lu?” he shook his aching head before a thought crossed his mind.

“we’ll now that you mention it… i did get bit by something… don’t worry peach, ‘m strong.” just as he said that his head started to throb. you rubbed from his shoulder to his chest to try and comfort him, he still had an insane fever, his skin was scorching hot.

“that’s not how that works baby, i’m worried about you.” saddness filled you emotions, you knew he wanted to be okay for you but he physically couldn’t.

“a kiss to make me feel better? then i’ll tell you what happened, promise!” he reached out for you, pulling on the back of your neck to get you close, he looked deep into your soft eyes and smiled. you rolled your eyes and mumbled, ‘fine’ as if you weren’t going to give him a lil smooch anyways.

his lips were warm as he kissed you, his tongue begged for entrance as he tried to push past your plush lips. you allowed it, the growing ache in your tummy wanted him so bad.

you ignored your aches and pulled back, making him growl in annoyance. “you said you’d tell me, luffy. so spill.” you held your ground, despite wanting to give in to his needs.

“muyggffgghhhhh fine— was playing with my bugs… but there was one i didn’t recognize, mm had like human teeth? and, well no it wasn’t a beetle… you think it was a zombie y/n? sheheiiuhihihih kidding! but it did have teeth.”

he showed you the bight mark on his right hand and you audibly gasped. the mark looked so fresh, how could you not have noticed? the teeth indents were red and it definitely looked infected, there was slight swelling and discoloration… poor baby, he was shivering now. the unknown illnesses seemed to be getting worse.

“please don’t worry y/n! ‘m fine! see look!” he shuffled out of bed and stretched out his arms to the best of his ability. “can you kiss me again?” he put on his best puppy dog face for you. how could you say no to him?

you playfully pushed him back on the bed and layed on top of him carefully, kissing his cheeks before meeting his mouth again. “only if you stay in bed and rest baby, that’s the deal if you want me to keep going.” you teased and he wholeheartedly agreed.

luffy ignored the aching feeling flowing through his veins, he loved your pretty lips. he hoped that kissing you would distract the other thoughts that were in his mind. but he sucked, and pulled, and finally bit.

“ouch! luffyyyyy why did you do that?” it stung, you’re pretty sure he broke skin, you tasted a faint trace of metallic in your mouth. he didn’t look okay, he was apologizing as if it wasn’t in his control, he aslo didn’t look like himself. his fever was worsening, he writhed around in bed, clutching his ears because they were becoming hypersensitive.

“baby, listen. it’s okay. i’m here.” you touched him again but he begged for you to back away, he didn’t want to accidentally snap at you and regret it later.

his voice deepened as he explained to you, he growled and moaned. “no, y/n! please, get the ropes, i need you to listed to me and tie me down, i feel something happening, get them now!”

you tied him to the bed and waited for further instructions, biting your lip as a nervous tick. he was unresponsive and still for a moment and you worried even more, you rushed to see if he still had a pulse and he surprisingly did. but he was ice cold. he shuffled in his ropes a bit when he felt your fingers touch his ice neck. you could’ve been mistaken but you thought you heard whimpers?

you boyfriend looked different. his eyes met your own but they didn’t give you that warm feeling anymore, they were hazy white and the color from his skin was gone. you reached out to touch him again.

“y/nnnnn seeeeee mm ohhuuuukayyyy, t-touch mmme” with the groans mixed in, his words were almost inaudible, but you could understand him

you were hesitant at first but you still had the aches in your tummy, luffy laid restless under the ties of the ropes, his soft rustles and pants made your cunt do flips at the sight before you.

“you want me to touch you, lu? i-is this okay to do?

“uh huuhh… i need you now… get on top mughhhhhhhrzz now…please.”

the ropes you placed on him were secure, so you felt safe moving forward. each limb was tied down to every post of the bed, he was sprawled out like a starfish. you knelt between his legs and eyed the tent in his shorts, he looked bigger than usual. the zipper opened easily as you freed huge cock from the fabric, eyes wide from the sight of him.

his growls ushered you to remove your panties and t-shirt. “let me feel you peach, get on.” his raspy voice controlled you, he couldn’t use his hands so he needed to improvise, he begged for you.

“tell me if you want me to stop. okay, lu?”

his eyes turned sinister and a slight grin crept on his face like he has just got the last piece of some monster plan. his voice was more clear now, but it was just a little bit off. it was now deep and demonic. “think before you speak y/n. look at me.” his pale eyes gestured down to his enlarged cock. “shouldn’t i be the one saying that to you? now get on.”

you nodded your head and swallowed your nerves— how were you going to fit it all? waiting around wasn’t going to solve you problem. you hurried to straddle him, lining him up with the drips of your entrance. his growing tip kissed along your slick, you held your breath until you finally sunk all the way down his length. he hissed at the contrast of your warmth swallowing him whole.

more groans fled his mouth, annoyed with how he couldn’t grasp you and move you himself. you needed time though. as you rest at the base of his thick cock, you held your hands to your mouth. silencing your yelps from the pain of being stretched so soon. you shifted your hips a little, the pressure in your cunt finally adjusted to his insane width.

slowly, you began to rock yourself on him, pushing up on his chest for support. “ahhh shit! too big luffy. feels so good—”

he whined and shifted beneath you, bucking up his hips to get you to move faster. “be a good girl and move. please, fucking move peach—” he continued to hit your g-spot repeatedly, even if your weren’t fully ready for it. tears pooled in the corners of your eyes, both from the pain and the pleasure. slick sounds filled your ears as you felt yourself start to unravel around him, you started to bounce faster.

“ahh luffy!! sss too muchh— t-think i’m gonna cum!” your cunt clenched around him, hugging around his thick base perfectly. your words fueled him more, he took it as a sign to fill you up on the spot. the ropes tugged on his flesh as he jolted beneath you, you were surprised they managed to hold down your monster of a boyfriend. but those thoughts soon left as he thrusted deep inside you over and over again. you could barely sit upright as he did so, you were blissed out and so sensitive.

“c-coming lu!!! i’m gonna— fuck! cum so hard!” you felt your legs begin to shake on either sides of him, his deep stokes making your mind go numb as you unravel around him. he wasn’t done yet, but he was close.

“fuck, y/n stay right there for me, gonna fill your pretty cunt all the way up. shit— you can do that for me, can’t ya?” you cried out as he overstimulated your weeping pussy, making a mess of the both of you. he stroked up a few more times before you felt his cold liquid flooding your cunt, there was so much of it.

with his final stoke before he came, he moaned deeply. you cried with him, feeling your second orgasm come with his own. “so tight for me y/n, shittttt— such a perfect pussy.” his chest heaved in unison with yours as you both started to come down from your highs.

⋆.✧̣̇˚.⚝𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪★ ✧˖°˗ˏˋ

@anemptypuddingcup what do we do next ???? do we untie him? yes or yes 🙈

#zombie!luffy #one piece x reader #one piece smut #luffy smut #monkey d luffy smut #luffy x you #monkey d luffy x reader #luffy x reader #one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #monkey d luffy #op luffy #monkey luffy smut

[johnwickb1tsch]

Yandere Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick Imagine Part 3 by @treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake and @johnwickb1tsch GIF credits to @scarlettspectra ❤

Original Post Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: So many dead doves! Do not eat! Unless you like dead doves, that is. You're in good company here. 😘 Violence, sexual content, blood, murder, kidnapping, possessive behavior, yandere sh!t...it's all here! Please take care! 😘

“Atonement? What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means,” Tex says with that wolfish smile, “That you hurt our feelings, and you gotta say you’re sorry.” He reaches up to coil a bit of your hair around his finger, tugging gently. Having the two of them crowding you against the wall like this is terrifying—and insanely…titillating, if you’re being honest. Your eyes follow the line of Tex’s arm up by your head, from muscular forearm to the curve of his bicep. A thing of beauty.

You should not be this attracted to either of them.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Nope. So now I think you have to sleep with both of us.”

John pays his partner a sliding side-eye look that conveys maybe he’s not so happy with this arrangement.

“And I gotta say, I’m feeling a little left out that you kissed John but not me.”

 You’re pretty sure John kissed you—then lightly assaulted you?—but who’s counting.

“I think she liked kissing me,” says John, claiming your attention again. “Didn’t you, honey?”

Suddenly, your mouth is dry as a desert, as you try to form a response and utterly fail. You wish you could just disappear into the wall behind you.

Now Tex’s hand is on your cheek, turning you back to him. You are getting dizzy, with all the back and forth. How the fuck do they expect you to keep up with them? You watch with fascinated horror as Tex lowers his head to you, his full mouth pressing yours. The sweep of his tongue in your mouth sends a spear of desire straight to your center; you hate it, that they make you feel this way. Pent up and helpless, needy and yet somehow so alone.

It builds in you like the fuse on a firecracker—you nip Tex’s beautiful lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

He jerks back, touching his mouth. You expect anger when he sees the blood, but he laughs. “You fucking little rattlesnake,” he growls, ducking to your neck, his big hand on your waist pinning you hard against the wall. Before you know what’s happening you feel his teeth there, at the bend where your neck meets your shoulder. He bites you hard enough to bruise, sucking for good measure so that you know there will be a mark.

The pain is sharp and you whine, squirming against them. But there’s no getting away. That’s starting to sink in a little more, and it makes your knees weak. You start to slide down the wall in your last attempt to get away from them, but strong hands hold you up. There’s a hand under your shirt, holding your bare waist. You’re not sure whose, until you realize, it’s both of them.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

”Tact, Tex,” John scolds, “this is a delicate little creature.”

Tex releases from your skin in a wet pluck, glaring at his companion. “Delicate girls bite where you’re from?”

“You’re a brute,” John tells him. He leans down to kiss your head, runs soothing fingers over the fresh bloody bruise that Tex left in your skin. “There are better ways to tame a nippy dog.”

“Muzzle works just fine.” Tex bites the air beside your jugular, so hard you can feel the sharp gnash vibrate your skin.

You wince back from him, only to push the other side of your neck into John’s waiting mouth. You don’t understand how someone who looks so terrifying can be so soft. His lips are like feathers, silk. Barely touching you. Running across your jaw and making you groan, down the column of your throat, over your collar, finally landing a tiny, wet, warm kiss on Tex’s aching mark. Your hips twitch up into his thigh of their own accord, and he makes a noise resembling a chuckle.

“See, she does like me better,” John muses.

You’ve never felt so helpless, and you’ve - regrettably - never been so turned on. Tex grabs your jaw and turns your head up to his. “Well now, we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?”

He picks you up and carries you to the bed. You don’t fight in his arms, but you’re sure as hell scrambling away from him futilely once he follows you into the mattress. He drags you back from the edge, plants you right in the middle, and descends on your skin while you sob and squeal and - because you’re pathetic - moan.

He’s hard on you, unforgiving and purposeful, overwhelming with nips and kisses and suckles and long, slimy licks. You go from trying to get him off to gripping him closer, which seems to egg him on.

He’s big, corded with muscle, intense, facial hair chafing your pliable skin. It’s too much and not enough. Your hips grind, desperate for friction, on nothing. John is leaning against the wall, beautiful arms crossed over his chest, watching, steaming, longing. The tempo of your arousal gets so much worse when you catch that man-starving-in-the-desert look.

Tex gives your collarbone a break to call his counterpart. “Rethinking sharing the bed, John?”

Johnwickb1tsch

John doesn't answer, just watches from the wall with his arms crossed. You can feel the weight of his stare from across the room, like a hand on your skin.

"See?" eggs Tex, his deep voice in your ear making your toes curl. "He ain't gonna save you. Still like Johnny better than me?"

He nips at your earlobe, winning a sound out of you that makes him smile like a baring of teeth.

"He's nicer than you," you pout.

Tex laughs at that.

"Honey, if you think that's the truth, then you ain't been payin attention." He kisses you on the mouth, a little gentler than before, but no less posessive, his tongue stroking yours. You cannot help the moan that escapes from deep in your throat, and you feel him smile triumphantly against you. He pulls you closer, insinuating a sinewy thigh between yours. You aren't proud about it, but you are desperate, as you grind yourself against him. Your throbbing, wet cunt thanks you for it, even as your self-respect flinches for the blow.

Tex keeps talking, and you can tell he's utterly smug.

"Know what the Italians call him?" he asks, kissing a line down your jaw.

"El guapo?"

Tex snorts. "Naw, that's what the Medellín boys call me."

You can't help but giggle a little.

Now, the whisky is definitely helping.

"Ok, what do they call him?"

"Lo spectro."

You crane your neck to look at John, but find he's gone from his spot at the wall. You didn't notice him move, didn't hear a thing. For some reason your heart jumps in your chest. Where the fuck did he go? Finally you realize he's settled in a chair in the dark corner, swathed in shadows as he watches the two of you. His eyes glitter like obsidian, unblinking.

"That means the Ghost."

Fitting.

"And the Russians think he's the bogeyman or some shit. What do they call you? The Baba Yaga?"

John huffs in acknowledgement, but you can't help but pause. "Isn't that the witch that lives in a shoe?" You laugh to yourself, knowing you're a little drunk, and crazy for thinking out loud, but unable to stop yourself. "No, it's a house on chicken feet. She's a scary old woman."

Tex grins, looking over to John in his corner. "That so?"

"I didn't give myself the nickname."

He sounds almost grumpy about it, and Tex chuckes. "Guess they didn't do their research while they were shitting their pants."

You wrinkle your nose, and he laughs at you. It's the laugh from before, in the diner. Joyful, a little wild. The laugh that made you want to follow him into his car, before it all went to hell. It promises fun, and adventure ahead. It inspires an involuntary warmth in your chest.

You must have a screw loose.

"You kinda sound like a fan boy for him, Tex," you tease.

"Nothin wrong with acknowledging greatness in your professional field." This is partially muffled by his mouth against your shirt-- traveling downwards.

"And--" You grab fistfuls of his soft dark hair, hoping to distract him from his intended target. His solid weight pressing you down into the mattress is far too delicious for comfort. "What do they call you?

It works, and he looks up at you with his chin on your breastbone, a mischievous sparkle in his eye. "Crazy Man."

Of course.

"It doesnt suit you."

He snorts, aware that you're ribbing him.

"You know what would suit me?"

He continues his trail downward, pulling up your shirt to kiss your bare belly.

You're really afraid to ask, and he doesnt wait for you to.

"My tongue in your sweet little snatch."

Hearing him say it aloud like that makes the body part in question clench with longing.

The Stupid Lady Parts have cast their vote, but you like to think you still wield the Executive Veto.

"Maybe that would win you over?"

His teeth are in the waistband of your boxers, pulling down over your hip, when you try to squirm away from him. "Wait...don't."

"No? I'm tryin to be generous here, honey."

"I just..." The thought of that fast-talking tongue working on your aching clit fills you with equal parts excitement and dread. You cover your face with your hands, overwhelmed. "Oh God."

You know there's really not anything you can actually do to stop him. You're not even sure you do want to stop him-- only that you should want to stop him. This has been the most stressful fucking day of your life, so help you gods, and you just dont fucking know what you want. So you're surprised when long seconds go by, and he moves no further, as though he's actually waiting for your answer. You look down with tears glittering in your eyes, to find him smiling wickedly up at you.

"That's alright, darlin'. I can wait until you beg me for it."

Your heart plummets, even while your Stupid Vagina rejoices like a chorus of angels.

Somehow, you sense that you have managed to fuck yourself over so royally.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff

”Let’s play pretend,” Tex says, kissing your tummy, letting his sharp stubble drag and give you wicked rug burn.

“I’m not a fan of - ah nnh - cops and robbers.” Your voice all high and squealing while he tugs John’s boxers down just a tiny bit more and nips your hip.

“Oh, maybe we should do that one instead,” Tex replies as though you’ve just given him a marvelous idea. “John, you mind tying her up again?”

“No, no no no,” You stupidly attempt getting away, and it fails miserably just like every other time. You really need to work out or join a self defense class or something. Tex holds you down like you’re a stuffed rabbit.

“You can handle it,” John tells him, voice hushed. You spare a glance at him, and, by God, it’s a mistake, because he’s palming something massive in his pants and looking right back at you.

You can’t look away from the sight of whatever sea monster is lurking below his trousers. Of course, he’s huge. Maybe you were hoping you could get a small dick joke in somewhere just to gain some leverage, but that is definitely not going to happen now.

“Anyone ever tell you you’ve got a staring problem, little fox?” Tex asks, squeezing your cheeks and making you look back at him.

You bite your lip to keep the retort at bay. That’s exactly what he wants you to do, after all, talk all weird and muffled because of your cheeks being dented in. He means to laugh at you, and you’re not giving him the satisfaction.

“Anyway,” he starts, “the game I wanna play is house.”

John grunts as if to laugh.

Tex releases your cheeks and they spring back puffy and handprinted. “Try to imagine that I’m not an evil psychopath.”

It’s your turn to laugh, and you open your mouth to do so, but he pinches the skin on your side rough enough to make you screech instead.

He keeps you pinched while he licks a line over your hip. It’s a daunting mixture of pain and pleasure and you’re bucking up into his dastardly mouth.

“Anyway, we go for a long ride in my car like we were planning. You ‘member?” He sucks your skin and releases the hold of his fingers, lighting you up with the pain of recirculation.

He trails sloppy wet kisses down until he’s just over the mound of your cunt, tongue licking over the elastic underwear band. You go to stick your fingers back into his hair, but he tsks at you.

“Keep those hands to yourself, tiger, or else I’m gonna have to use more of that itchy rope you love so much.”

You shoot him a hateful look, but put your hands at your sides and fist the sheets.

“Oh, you do listen. Good job, honey, makin’ me proud.” He takes a minute or two or three to use his mouth and turn you into a throbbing mess. Your tummy and hips are all raw and sore and sensitive and spit covered, and he’s got his hands holding your thighs down on the bed so you can’t even grind on air.

He continues. “I get you back to my place, put on some music, turn the lights real low. Give you a long, naked massage. Oil you up. Get you nice and slippery and wet. Nuh uh, honey bunch, open your eyes and look at me.”

You do, peppery tears caught in your lower lashes. And your vagina, which was once enthusiastic and committing blatant mutiny, is now wishing it would have listened to your rational brain. Because his deep, sinful voice, combined with the narration and the eye contact - oh, and don’t forget his expert fucking lips and tongue and teeth - have one unforgiving, aching tightness building brick by brick inside of you - and it fucking hurts.

“And once I get you all worked up, I use both these big hands you’re always starin’ at to rub your cunt. Nice and slow and heavy - just a plain, good, old fashioned clit tease - “

Suddenly, he stops, and you’re extremely confused. The enchantment is broken. Him and John are staring at one another instead of at you.

“Was that the fuckin’ doorbell?” Tex sighs.

John digs a phone from his pocket and checks it. “Yeah. It’s Bradford.”

Your heart lurches. Agent Bradford. Here to rescue you. Here to get you out of this fucking mess.

Tex kisses your tummy one more time and slaps the waist of the underwear against your overworked flesh. “Your knight in shining armor is two hours early.” He says it as if it’s your fault.

What? What the fuck? They knew he was coming? Why did he ring the doorbell? You can’t contain these questions. You have to know, or you’re literally going to end up in a straight jacket with padded walls caging you in at the end of all this.

“What the fuck is going on?” You ask.

Johnwickb1tsch

"Well, looks like we might get to play cops and robbers sooner than later, sweetheart." Tex pats your thigh, hard, making it jiggle. For a moment he seems distracted by the motion of your flesh under his big hand, but he blinks out of it.

You however, are vibrating inside with the scant hope that maybe, just maybe, you might get out of this. Because maybe these men are handsome as the devil, and maybe they want to torment you with pleasures that lets be honest, you've only dreamed of, but they are dangerous. Maybe they promised to set you up with a new life, but its a promise you trust only so far as you could throw one of them.

Not really thinking, you try to stand, but Tex pushes you right back down like batting at a fly.

"Guess we've got to tie her up again."

John is already on his feet, pulling things out of the weapons chest. He holsters a small gun at his back, and sheathes a knife at his ankle.

"I'll do it. You make the knots too tight. Go make sure everything's ready."

"Fine, fine."

Tex winks at you before strutting out.

When John approaches with the rope you consider trying to scramble away, until he pins you with that certain look. You hold out your wrists with tears in your eyes.

"Sorry, honey," he apologizes, which genuinely surprises you. "This won't take long."

"What are you going to do?" you ask, fearing for Bradford.

He ignores your question, frowning at the coarse rope on your tender wrists. "Where the fuck did he get this?" he grumbles under his breath. "A hay bale?"

Despite the apparently less than quality cordage, you can't help but notice this man ties beautiful knots. If you were on a boat, you would have been impressed. Since they're on you...you're less than enthusiastic about it.

"Should be silk or nothing on this beautiful, soft skin."

Hearing this makes an uneasy thrill run down your spine.

"Alright, princess. Are you going to behave for us?"

You blink up at him, doing your damndest impression of an innocent little bunny.

"Yes."

He weighs you with that piercing stare, before snorting to himself. "No you're not."

He replaces the socks you flung at Tex and ties your ankles too. This results in him having to bridal carry you out of the room. John sets you down on the couch in a sitting room.

"Ready?" Tex is by the door, John standing across the room. There is an energy between them that gives you chills. Something is about to go down.

Tex opens the door, and Bradford limps in, looking between the two assassins with hard eyes.

"Ever heard of being fashionably late?"

Bradford scoffs. "Why, were you busy with something?" His eyes sweep to you, with what is undoubtedly sex hair, and the angry purple hickey visible above your collar.

"Something," Tex confirms with a smirk, winking at you.

You are so confused. Why are they talking like they're friends?

"You boys made a big fucking mess of this thing."

"No, you did, when you double sold your information," says John in an unforgiving tone, glaring between Tex and Bradford.

You look to Bradford with wide eyes, hardly able to believe what you're hearing.

"You? You're the fucking rat?"

Bradford sighs. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? I fucking trusted you!"

Bradford steps to stand in front of you. "Look, I really am sorry. But I've got three teen kids, and good college is expensive."

You can hardly believe what you're hearing.

This man who swore to uphold the law sold your location to not one, but two assassins--for tuition money?

Maybe your ankles are tied, but it doesn't prevent you from winding up and kicking him with two heels in the dick.

Bradford goes down, curling up on the carpet with a groan.

Tex whoops with laughter.

Even John winces at the damage to Federal Property.

"You sonofabitch!" you spit. "I have been poor my whole life. Borderline poverty poor, but I never would have done what you did for money. You traded my life!"

You are just a pawn in a bigger game to all these men. Even the supposed good guys.

"Easy to say that, when you don't have anyone depending on you," grits Bradford through his teeth.

It's true. You have no children, no close family.

You are just...alone.

After a minute Bradford manages to stagger back to his feet.

"Need an ice pack, Agent?" needles Tex.

"No. I'll have my money, and be on my way."

John nudges a briefcase over with his oxford-clad foot.

"It's all there."

"Good."

Bradford limps over to pick it up, before heading for the door.

"What are you going to do with her?" he asks. Oh, so now he has a conscience?

"We're going to give her a new life," says John. "That's all you need to know."

The agent nods, then looks to you one last time. "I really am sorry."

"Eat a bag of dicks, you fucking asshole," you spit.

Tex chortles. "Tell 'im honey."

Then you watch what you thought was your last hope walk out the door with a suitcase full of money, payment, you assume, for pushing any further investigations away from your two captors--and you.

The two men in question come to stand before you, looming menacingly. They are tall, and forbidding--and why do they have to look so fucking handsome while doing it?

"Shame we gotta move," says Tex. "I like her like this."

"Don't stand too close, she'll re-arrange the way you pee," says John with a smirk. Then you notice he has a needle in his hand, again.

"Please, don't," you whine. Whatever it is they give you to knock you out makes you feel so out of it.

"Sorry, sweetheart. One more time, if we're lucky."

"We should just stick her in a burlap sack like the rattlesnake she is," jokes Tex.

John snorts, but doesn't encourage him further.

"Hold her down," he says, flicking the needle.

Tex is all too happy to wrap you back up in his strong arms again. This time, you don't really fight it though. What's the point? Having that needle jabbed carelessly into your flesh doesn't appeal to you, so you sit very still, and close your eyes.

Maybe soon, it will all be over?

Sweetwolfcupcake

The sun is shining, giggles echo in the air as you run around, dodging the person chasing you.

"Hey! Wait--(Y/N)!"

You turn around with a grin, ready to let his body crash into yours like the waves crashing against your feet. But you see no one. The ocean roars and echoes, but you are alone. The sun shines brighter and brighter until it blinds you with the bright---

The painful jerk has you opening your eyes with a startled whimper. Your vision is hazy, but you hear something akin to 'Careful'.

You try blinking your eyes, but your movements are too slow. It takes great labour's to even try to shift. You try anyway, only to discover that there are arms holding you.

"Hey, it's okay. Go back to sleep." The familiar voice cooes into your ear, tucking you closer.

"The road is shit!" Tex's voice reach your ears bit it's like slowly floating in.

Everything is slow, even the movements of---

Oh, you are in a car again, but your vision is too hazy and thought process too slow to grasp exactly what place it is. Everything looks familiar but somewhat incomprehensible.

And the dream, you have not dreamt of the day for a while but...

"Hey, it's okay, you're safe. You can go back to sleep."

You realise a tear has slipped down the corner of your eyes when John's thumb wipes it away.

The road ahead seems to be anything but free or even good. Rather, it seems bleak if you manage to rise above your...attraction to them.

You gulp, feeling a dull throb begging to grow in your head as it falls back into John's shoulder. The tightening grip registers a moment later, but it does not even occur to you to fight back in anyway.

You close eyes and let darkness fall over you again.

----

John watches your sleeping form, sitting on a chair that has been dragged nearer to the bed. You make him feel conflicted, and he can tell, Tex too.

They, the sorry creepers from hell, have felt warmth, sunlight, something they are deprived of. Something they do not deserve.

But you...

You have walked up to them. Outstretched hands cupping their cheeks, teasing their horns, looking into their hungry, miserable but malevolent eyes.

John knows that, he's human after all.

And even the devil craves solace.

He does not want to let go of this or you. He knows Tex enough - that man might try to hide it behind rough exterior, but he craves... this, you just as much. He would not be preparing a light meal for you otherwise.

With the kind of desperation and tinkles of madness that concerns John slightly but fuels Tex.

They will come up with an arrangement, as discussed at he bar. But hell may freeze and heaven be scorched - they are not letting you slip away.

They deserve something good, something soothing after what the world has put them through...

But every action has a consequence. In their world, this stretches to the extreme. All they need now is to prepare for the consequences. This time, though, they won't be the one facing them.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff

You wake up screaming. Which in itself isn’t unusual. Nightmares have always been a constant companion for your sleeping brain, and they only got worse when you accidentally stumbled upon the bloody execution that got you into this mess.

This is different. Different because you’re not in your bed or your apartment and, at first, you don’t know what’s going on or how you got here. As you scream, you try to fling upright, and it’s a terrible mistake.

A few things happen at once. Your hand, still very diluted with knock out drugs (to the point it may as well be unattached from your body) hits a solid wooden slab - hard enough to make you think you may have broken your pinky. The second event - the one that lays you flat - is the light from the doorway hitting your eyes and popping your pupils like a juicy blackhead.

Screaming turns into to groans of agony as the headache bleeds from your orbital sockets into the rest of your head, then your neck, then your shoulders. You try to move and bury your face into something, but you feel like a bag of potatoes trying to roll itself along a sandy beach. You can barely grasp anything let alone move your torso or hips or your 800 pound, throbbing skull.

Strong hands grab and steady your zombified body, and John’s voice is at your ear before you can scream again. “Hey, hey, it’s alright.” He pulls you gently, propping your curled body on top of his own.

Rough finger pads nudge your lips apart and slip something liquid and bitter past them to coat your mouth. The slime absorbs into welcoming buccal surface and makes your face numb and tingly. That feeling travels to your head in a matter of seconds, and you are floating, blessedly pain free, high as a goddamn kite on a windy spring day.

Comfy numb spreads through your blood and makes it even harder to move. You try a finger and it won’t budge, but strangely you’re not really worried about it. John’s got you, and he’s warm and strong and whispering words of reassurance into your hairline. God, he smells nice, too, like some kind of woodsy, salty altar to ancient deities. You inhale as much of him as you possibly can and itch to grab onto his shoulders and never let go.

He wipes something off your chin - it feels sticky and wet - and you attempt opening your eyes to see what it is. Oh good, your eyeballs didn’t explode like you thought. Thick drool snaps from your face onto the back of his hand, and then he reaches to grab something, but your eyes don’t follow that movement because they’re too busy marveling at his sculpted face. How did he get more attractive? How does he keep getting more attractive. You want to touch him, rub your thumb along the tensing muscle of his throat and then let your tongue follow. For a second, it seems like you actually are doing those things, but then you’re teleported back to your previous location, unmoving; reality is slipping from you piece by piece.

“John?” Your voice sounds like some distant chant in a massive cathedral.

“Mmm?”

“Did I just lick you?”

He might be smiling or he might be frowning - you can’t really tell. “No.”

“That’s because I can’t,” you explain, wondering why he doesn’t realize he has to be the one to lick you because you really really can’t move but, God, you want to kiss him again. Feel the slick of his tongue and the feather of his fingers on your flesh.

He just looks at you, quirking his eyebrow.

Ugh. Men.

“Kiss me,” you demand, although it sounds more like a desperate plea.

He does, wonderful, overwhelming mouth hooking into your own and shattering bulbs of light and glass through your blood. He’s too soft and too much at the same time and you swear to God your heart is actually in your ears instead of your chest.

You were so dumb before, for not taking this opportunity. For not bagging this sinfully hot man and dropping to your knees and saying thank you Mr. Boogeyman. Wow, you’re stupid. But it seems like he forgives you while his big, polite tongue is teasing your own, so that’s a plus.

“Really?” Tex asks. “How many drugs did you give her?”

John’s lips release yours, and you whine - loudly - from the loss of wet, warm, crack infused contact.

“I gave her the recommended dose, but I think she had a bad reaction to the sedative.”

“If this is what you call a bad reaction, then I just gotta see what you consider a good one.”

Your eyes, animated on their own, flit to Tex. Oh, for a second you kind of forgot there was two of them. Or are you just seeing shit? No, you’re pretty sure there is two. God, you hope there’s two.

Johnwickb1tsch

Later, you'll wonder if this was a dream. If when you held out your hand to Tex, you didn't imagine the fleeting moment of vulnerability on his handsome features, before it disappeared into his usual confident smirk.

He joins you on the bed, sliding in on your other side, his solid warmth pressed against you. If the drugs weren't enough to make you loopy, being sandwiched between your gorgeous boys surely steals any last hint of reservation you had left to your name.

Your boys.

Is this even real?

His big hand slides under your shirt, gripping your waist possessively as he dips to kiss you. He's not as gentle as John, not as cloyingly sweet--yet there is almost a tenderness in the heated way he claims your mouth with his soft lips and devilish tongue.

Needless to say, you are a quivering mess between them by the time he pulls away.

"Hard to believe this is the same girl," he teases you. "No biting, no mouthing off. Just soft and sweet..."

John's lips have drifted down to your neck, feathering light kisses behind your ear. You are barely capable of movement, but your fingers dig into his shoulders, and you writhe languidly as you feel Tex's hand sliding down your belly.

John stops him as his fingertips slide just past your waistband, and surprisingly its you who gives a sound of protest. At least, you think you do. Everything is golden edged and fuzzy. It's hard to discern what all is happening in your mind, and what is real.

"Let her come out of it a little more," says John, almost like he feels guilty for drugging you.

Tex grumbles, "Yeah, ok. I like her better when she's feisty anyway." His kiss on the corner of your mouth curls your toes, and you whine for your thrwarted satisfaction. "Sorry, little rattlesnake. Blame Johnny for giving you too many drugs."

You can hardly believe the words that come out of your mouth. "What does it matter?" After everything they've done so far...what does any of it matter? You've been forsaken, sold down the road by the justice system that was supposed to protect you. The men who have saved you are career criminals and contract killers. In this strange state, you can almost sense the outline of your doom. Maybe you might as well enjoy what you can, when you can.

John, however, doesn’t seem to like hearing you talk like this. "You matter," he affirms, kissing your temple. "Why don't you get some more sleep?"

Wrapped up in the warmth of both of their imposing bodies, this doesn’t sound like a terrible idea. You rest your head on John's broad shoulder with Tex spooning you from behind, his muscled arm draped over your waist.

He's snoring behind you before you even drift off. Strangely, it doesn't bother you, and soon you're following to the land of dreams.

*******

You're not sure what time it is, when hazily you wake. There are no windows, just shadowed darkness. You try to sit up, but John's arm tightens on you. He's the one spooning you now.

This is the puppy pile from Hell.

"I have to pee," you tell him. Your bladder feels like it might burst at any moment.

"Through there," he says quietly, pointing across the room. You see a door with the gentle glow of a blue night light beyond. "Don't take too long."

Finding the last bit entirely unnecessary, you roll your eyes, knowing you're safe in the dark.

"Fine."

Able to move a little better now, you extricate yourself from your assassin bedfellows, picking your way across the floor to the toilet.

After relieving yourself you wash your hands, and look at yourself in the blue glow of the mirror. Your head hurts, and you take a drink of water from the faucet.

Your thoughts are not quite so fuzzy now, and you take a moment to assess what's available to you here.

Unless you think you can facilitate your escape with the deadly weapon of a soap dispenser...no dice.

You turn to go and gasp at the tall shadow of a figure in the doorway.

"Jesus Christ!"

Tex steps farther into the light, filling the entire doorway with his impressive form. He's removed his shirt for sleeping, and unbuttoned the top button of his jeans. When he reaches up to hold the top of the door casing, displaying those toned arms and powerful chest, the pose does not fail to catch your breath in your throat.

"Excuse me," you say, hoping he'll move, staying out of arm's reach, for all the good it will do you.

"Gotta pay the toll," he says with that devilish smirk.

Your heart skips a beat.

"What does that mean?"

He puckers his lips, and you have to fight not to roll your eyes again. This man...is a handful, and you're not sure if you want to kick him in the shin or indeed kiss him full on the mouth.

Moving carefully, you steady yourself with fingertips on his chest, standing on tiptoe to peck his lips.

Your feet leave the ground completely when he grabs you up, slanting his mouth over yours. Your brain shuts down, when he kisses you like this. Like you are something delicious he'd like to devour, bones and all. When he presses you into the door jamb with a hard thigh between yours all you can think to do is whine, your treacherous lady parts rejoicing again.

"Tex." says a warning voice from the bed.

He lets you go, smacking your behind as he nudges you on your way. "Get back in bed."

Your limbs tremble as you scramble to obey him.

Sweetwolfcupcake

This time, though, sleep does not come easy. You can feel their bodies pressed against yours, and while John's arms resting around you feel a bit of a cage, Tex's knees nudging between your thighs feels absolutely unnecessary but, much to your annoyance, not uncomfortable. You try to keep your legs crossed, only to hear a quiet growl from behind. It is not entirely guttural but has a warning edge to it.

"Don't play with me right now."

You shiver, letting his knee nestle in. His hand rests on your shoulder for a while before going for your scalp, running his fingers through your tresses, untangling them with an unexpected gentleness.

It reminds you of... someone, and your breathing shifts a bit, quivering slightly as you try to push the image out of your mind while you keep your eyes stubbornly closed.

John's hold tightens around you instinctively.

"Go back to sleep. You've not recovered yet." His voice is careful, soft, and everything you realise you have craved all your life.

Perhaps the universe has played another callous game with you - granting your wish in its own, twisted way - in the form of two deadly men who make you feel more conflicted than you have ever been-- you feel simultaneously safe with and hunted by them, they arise your resentment, anger but also a volcanic desire that threatens to consume you, that tempts you to just give in.

But you won't. You refuse to give in. You know it's a decided battle, but you choose to fight.

You have fought all your life, this is another one of them.

You decide.

You would not be their plaything - that is what they see you as. Their doll to play with until they decide that they had enough. You have no other reasoning or explanation for their actions.

But at some point, you manage to fall asleep, curled against them, letting your breathing mix with theirs until they find a pattern.

-----

You feel his beard rubbing against your chin as a pair of lips engulf yours, swallowing your words-- or were they just babbles? You can not find it in yourself to care. Everything is hazy, floating-- good. The soothing, low, deep voices coax you into spreading your legs further, welcoming the sensation of a surface rubbing against you. Your core pulses with desire as you arch your back, pressing against the toned, hard chest-- the contrast makes you shudder as you whimper. The surface presses harder and continues to rub against you while the lips descend to tour chin and neck.

What place is this?

You welcome the overwhelming sensations, pleasure rising in your being, in slow, steady motion. But that does not feel enough.

Suddenly, the motion is sharp and calculated but faster and--and your eyes fly open.

It is no dream!

You blink, wide, surprised eyes meeting John's burning, hungry ones with your mouth parted.

"Wai--th!"

Your words are swallowed by John's lips again. This time, it is his tongue sliding in, and every other thought fades.

"Now, now, don't move yet--"

You hear Tex's voice from behind, slightly muffled by his lips pressed against your hair as his knee rubs roughly almost aggressively against your pulsating core. Your last attempts to move away are thwarted by John's unyielding hold on you as you grapple for the last bits of your rational mind.

"Just let go, honey, you're almost there."

Tex's voice has never been so gentle before-- it has its charm, but also an edge of mockery and malice.

You moan further into the kiss, realising that John's lips are still on yours, but the thoughts are cut short when you feel yourself erupt. Your pleasure bursts and sparks rain on your veins. You vaguely realise yourself grinding against the moving knee, but that is a fleeting observation.

"Oh--Oh my--"

You gasp and shudder, whispering like a prayer as John's lips free yours, letting you gulp as much air as you can until your lungs throb dully and your eyes roll back. You are drowning, but also floating. You feel John's lips on your neck but make no attempt at pushing him, them away.

"There you go,"

Was it Tex?

Or John speaking?

You do not care at the moment - it's all too much, too good, too hazy. You can feel yourself seeping through the boxers, and you barely can bring yourself to be bothered, at least not now.

The warmth engulfs you as you continue to shudder, feeling the now slowed but precise movements of the knee as it prolongs your ecstasy.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff

”Looks like I win, Johnny boy,” Tex murmurs, licking the shell of your ear with that silvertongue of destruction. Win? They did make some kind of bet behind your back, then. Still assholes at the end of the day. Would it really be wise to bring it up when you’re snuggled between them, all sensitive and jellied, though?

“We’re still on that?” John asks, not seeming invested at all - more preoccupied with pulling your shirt up to rub your bruised tummy and ribs, wiping that scowl right off your face.

Tex presses something daunting against your bottom - oh, you are really fucked here - and helps John tug the fabric up higher until the seam teases your perked nipples. “Deal’s a deal.”

John caresses the tender underside of your breasts, wets your skin with tiny, teasing kisses. “Sure.” He could have at least shaved to limit the wicked rug burn, you think bitterly.

Tex tugs the boxers down over your ass, snaps the band against the bottom mounds and makes them jiggle for his viewing entertainment. “Oh,” he grunts. “I do love a good peach.”

“What’re you doing?” Your voice is slurred from sleep, whiny and throaty from the torment.

“I was gonna fuck you,” he explains, “but now I just have to have a lil’ samplin’ first.”

You look to John, eyes big and scared. He hums at you, coos and murmurs, gently fists the nape of your hair, pulls your head back and laves the column of your throat. Right over your pulse, he latches and sucks, and then hurts you for the first time. He bites you, soft and delicious, the tangy pain shooting straight to your cunt.

Tex is on the move down your back, suckling bruises into your spine and nestling his facial hair into the dimples above your plump globes. “Fuck, I think I found my new favorite thing.” He sinks his teeth viciously into your right cheek, and your hips immediately try and buck away from the sharp pain. John’s firm hands move to hold you in place while Tex takes time practically fucking gnawing on your delicate fatty tissue like you’re some kind of juicy steak.

“Hurts,” you whimper, nails digging into John’s chest, feet curling against his legs.

“I know,” John sympathizes. “Poor baby. I got you.”

Tex is clearly not in the mood for mercy, because, after a while, he unhooks from one cheek and goes straight to the other, delivering the same harsh treatment. When he’s finished, there a fat tears rolling down your face, accompanying a pathetic blubber.

“Oh, so you can dish it out, but can’t take it, huh little rattler?” Tex’s words are mean, but his big hands nicely smooth over the hills of your bottom, warming and calming the blossoming marks from his teeth.

John has not been idle - he’s working you raw, giving the same treatment to your neck that Tex did with your belly and hips. “Tex, how do you want her?”

Tex cradles the bottoms of your ass in each hand, spreading them apart, examining your puffy wet slit. “Back,” he says, surprising you by not making some sort of quip or snide remark - he sounds distracted.

They manhandle you onto your back with a pillow under your hips. John has your head in his lap and your arms tucked up under his thighs. You squirm experimentally, concluding that you are absolutely not going anywhere. He pulls your hair off your neck and face, fans it over his lap, kisses your forehead. Tex tugs your underwear down and gets a front row seat to the way you pulse and weep when John rubs his fingers outside of your shirt, circling your aching nipples but not touching them. It’s infuriating and you can’t help but whine his name, press yourself into his fingers.

John chuckles down at you.

Tex kisses your pubic mound, gathers saliva in his throat, opens wide and lets it drip down and mingle with your cum. “You are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” He teases, looking up at you, face positioned right above your center. He gives your clit a chilly little blow. Your legs try to close, but it’s a useless attempt with his broad frame settled between them.

You’re not sure when John got the shirt above your breasts, but they’re on full display. Your attention goes from Tex to him as he licks his thumbs and rolls them around your puckering peaks. Oh that’s so much worse.

The sensation bucks your hips up so that Tex can flick his precise tongue over the tip of your slippery clit, and between the two of them all you can really do is moan and take it no matter how overwhelming it gets. You just hope they have a little bit of mercy left in their hearts for you, but that optimism is dashed once Tex cuddles his face into your cunt and makes you scream.

#john wick #tex johnson #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #john wick x you #keanu reeves x reader #yandere john wick #yandere tex johnson #wicked johnson fic

[papercranesandpride]

Can we talk about The Giver by Lois Lowry from the perspective of a loveless person?

I'm going to start with a passage that runs through my head all the time when I think about my lovelessness, because it resonates with me in pretty much the exact opposite way that it's supposed to.

"Do you love me?" There was an awkward silence for a moment. Then Father gave a little chuckle. "Jonas. You, of all people. Precision of language, please!" "What do you mean?" Jonas asked. Amusement was not at all what he had anticipated. "Your father means that you used a very generalized word, so meaningless that it's become almost obsolete," his mother explained carefully. Jonas stared at them. Meaningless? He had never before felt anything as meaningful as the memory. "And of course our community can't function smoothly if people don't use precise language. You could ask, 'Do you enjoy me?' The answer is 'Yes,'" his mother said. "Or," his father suggested, "'Do you take pride in my accomplishments?' And the answer is wholeheartedly 'Yes.'" "Do you understand why it's inappropriate to use a word like 'love'?" Mother asked. Jonas nodded. "Yes, thank you, I do," he replied slowly. It was his first lie to his parents

I agree with Jonas' parents here. You aren't supposed to agree with them, because they're expression the views of the average person in this dystopian society where love has been eliminated. You're supposed to think "wow, this is a really fucked up society if parents don't love their children." More importantly, you're supposed to think "wow, this is a really fucked up society if no one feels love at all." But I agree with them. "I enjoy you" is a vastly more correct and useful thing for me to say. I do wish people used more precise language instead of the term that's been diluted to meaninglessness. I would love a world where we say things like "I'm happier when I talk to you" or "it's cool to be able to say I know someone so talented" instead of "I love you." That's exactly what I'd like.

I just... As someone who grew up to be loveless, it scares me how much I loved this book as a kid. I grew up to be the kind of person this book views as missing an essential part of the human experience. Lois Lowry thinks that being like me is dystopic. It's not fun to realize that about a book I read over and over, and then read again in school as the first book I really, properly analyzed for English class. Some fundamental part of me was formed when I wrote my first very angsty fanfiction about it for a school project. And this book looks at me with revulsion.

Lois Lowry is just wrong. I used to feel love and then stopped feeling it (and I need to post about that sometime, because all the loveless people I see talk about never having felt love and so I want to voice my own experience). I don't think I'm missing out. I have no desire to get it back. To be clear, I don't think I'm better off without it, either. It's a neutral thing. Some people feel it, some people don't feel it, and neither group is worse off. I wasn't any happier with it than I am without it.

I don't really have a point, except just that it sucks that the whole origin point of the teen dystopia craze that formed all of YA during my peak YA-reading years sees lovelessness as bad. But you know. Of course it does. So does the rest of the culture.

#loveless aplatonic #loveless apl #loveless aromantic #loveless aro #loveless #the giver

[iamjacksragingboner]

Gross Childhood Best Friend Soap - Alternate Endings

Word count: 1.3K

Warnings: Some angst but like you'll live, you don't end up with Soap though you're rejecting him like that's the whole thing

Part One: You can find part one with the original, happy ending here. Please read that one first so you're up to speed with the context to these other endings.

A/N: As I was writing the end of the Gross Childhood Best Friend Soap fic, I briefly had the thought to make the reader reject Soap, like bitch oh my god have some self worth you don't need to immediately forgive him for being a dick to you.

Anyway, this alternate ending could go one of two ways.

The Immediate Rejection.

“Why don’tcha come back to mine with me, bonnie,” Johnny coos, and for a moment you almost accept his offer.

Almost.

Sure, the boy you’d spent way too many years pining over and never gave you the time of day finally paying attention to you was great, in theory, but it only took a second of reminiscing to think better of it.

This boy was the reason you spent so many nights walking home alone, cursing yourself for falling for his shallow promises spoken by sugar sweet lips again and again.

"Ah, no. Thanks Johnny, but I'm not interested." It comes out dry, but you hope it gets the point across. He had missed his window of opportunity years ago.

Johnny laughs and jostles your shoulder. "Come on, lass. Just a night! Doesn't have tae mean anythin'. I've missed ye."

You hold strong to your word, as attractive as Johnny is, and always has been, you know you're better than that. "Really Johnny, I'm not in the mood."

His hand skirts up your thigh and you groan internally at his inability to take the neon-coloured hint. "I bet I can change that for ye."

Swallowing your pride, you lean into Johnny and cup a hand to whisper into his ear "I have like three STD's at the moment, dude. I don't think you wanna bump uglies with me currently."

It was a silly lie, but you knew it would be more than enough to get the message through his relatively thick skull. You were right, of course, because as you pulled back to take a look at the expression on his face, you had to fight not to burst into laughter.

Johnny looked as though he'd sucked on a lemon but was trying not to let it show. He'd pulled back from you by at least a foot as well, and kept his hands firmly clasped in his lap. "Ah," he said, and cleared his throat. "Well. Good to know."

"Yup."

Silence. You wondered how long it would take Johnny to get up and scout out a different lady, as you were sure he would after this.

As it turns out, it took a grand total of a minute and a half for him to get up, bid his adieus and walk out of the bar, promising he'd call you soon, and wishing you all the best with your... things.

You downed the rest of your drink with a wicked grin stretching across your cheeks and walked merrily home.

2. The Gradual Realisation of Self Worth.

He only comes to you when he needs you.

Only gives you affection when he knows it'll benefit him.

Leaves you cold and alone in bed.

Tells you you're beautiful, says he loves you, but only when you're actively serving him. Patching his wounds. Sending him care packages. Buying him drinks. Always giving, but never receiving.

The bed is so cold.

You curl in on yourself night after night, but you never cry. You are convinced that surely, one day he will return your affection. One day he'll prove you right and show that he has changed, has given up on his shallow promises. You ignore the voice in your head that tells you he hasn't.

You spent so long trying to fix him, put so much time into trying to make him a better person, telling him to eat better, to keep his room clean, teaching him to cook, teaching this man the bare minimum, only to get nothing in return.

He didn't love you, and at this point you weren’t even sure if you liked him. Did you like him, or did you like the comfort of having someone that could hold you, if he wanted to. There was never a guarantee.

You fixed him, but you didn't get to reap the benefits of your own hard work. You fixed him so he could go an fuck over the next person a little less.

You start rejecting his advances, ignoring his texts asking you to come over for a quick fuck. You stop sending him care packages with home made food and letters telling him about how you've been since he was home. You don't answer the door when he knocks. Quitting him cold turkey.

Eventually, he stops texting, stops calling, doesn't throw rocks at your window.

There is silence; a breath of fresh air.

You bump into him at a bar a few months later. You make polite small talk, and he flashes you that grin that pulled you in the first time, but it falls flat and slips from his face. You move away from the hand that caresses your waist.

"Let's get out of here," he bends down to whisper in your ear, "come back to mine, I've missed ye, bonnie." Johnny's hand creeps up your face, a wolf-like grin stretches and snarls across his cheeks.

Your face turns stony, ashen. "Leave me alone, John."

His grin falters at the omission of his nickname, the name you had always called him. In all your years of knowing each other, not once had you called him John.

"Bonnie," Johnny starts, concern flicking over his face. What a joke. He chooses to care now, when he's at risk of losing his quick fuck.

"Don't call me that," your voice is sharp, cutting through the pollution he's breathed on you for so long. "Do not speak to me as if you've ever given more than two shits about me, because I know for a fact the only thing you see me as is a hole to shove your dick in."

You had passed the point of mourning over what could have been, of what you wanted this 'relationship' to be. You were only capable of feeling anger and distain towards the man before you.

"Now, lass, there's no need for ye think that," Johnny rubs your arm in an attempt of comfort that came all too late. "yer more than that to me, I promise."

I promise.

I promise.

I promise.

"Fuck you and your promises, John," you spit, slapping his hand away from you, creating distance between you, because as far as you're concerned, he lost the privilege of touching you long ago. "You're always promising things, but you never mean any of it, do you?"

Johnny stays quiet, his mouth hanging ajar and his hand hovering in midair, as if he's shocked that his actions suddenly have consequences.

"I have tried for so long to continue to see the good in you, to believe that if I just tried a little harder, you'd actually want to pay attention to me, but I look back on that decision to try and I just feel so... stupid! So utterly stupid for not seeing you for what you are, John. Look I want to wish you the best in your future relationships but honestly I think I'd much prefer if you went and choked to death on a bag of dicks."

As much as you thought it would be cathartic to say even a quarter of what you felt Johnny needed to hear, it honestly wasn't. Johnny was silent as you picked up your things and left the bar. He at least had enough of a brain to not call you, but part of you wished he did. The part of you that still hoped the Johnny you grew up with was in there.

You hugged your arms to your chest and kicked the rocks on the pavement as you walked home alone. Again. You went to bed alone. Again. But it felt better.

Johnny wasn't coming back, and you were glad.

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #childhood best friend x reader #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish

[voidcat]

– the moon will sing

characters: astarion, human bard mc (gn pronouns used)

notes & genre: slight angst, implied future mcd & hinted immortal/mortal relationship. the mc is originally my dnd character but there is no specific description of name, appearance or past (save for the family crest, implied nobility) so you can pretend this is x tav or x reader. lowkey inspired by a the crane wives song.

it takes a moment to look back, like a step taken a tad too late; not enough to create a great distance but one enough to make one stumble on the ground.

in the small yet grand distance, astarion watches as cheers and joy fill the air once more, mimicking those nights before, in taverns, under the stars, all spent celebrating, rejoicing with glory and gratitude; all heroic feats and gestures he does not care to– nor wish to understand.

another adventure comes to an end, one step closer to the end, the destination, the next step of the rest of their lives until they find themselves at a crossroads.

one part of astarion cannot wait for that day to come, the one that wishes to escape, to avoid the burning rays of sunlight that only intensify each passing minute, each day he finds himself stuck deeper than he already has, struggling more and more to break those ties which are yet to be formed and binding completely.

better to rip the sticky, bloody bandages off than to take it easy– just suck up the pain that comes with a loss of recent constants in his life, and grow into his newly lonely routine of not depending on anyone.

all good logic, all bright ideas, astarion finds himself giving the little-him in his mind a pat on the back; only for the idea to come to halt, the unspoken words stuck in his throat as you turn in your spot, meters, meters away from him, spot his distant figure with those eyes and send a warm smile his way.

maybe this is another plan that has already failed before he could realize, astarion begins to wonder, oh he is so, so fucked– especially when all it takes now is a smile, a genuine one that reaches your eyes and shines warm like the sun, for him to be rendered speechless and immobile.

your smile falters for a second when you don't receive the usual astarion treatment, be it a wink, a charming smile or an all-knowing smirk decorating his smug face with a raised eyebrow that seems to say "cannot keep your eyes off me, can you now darling?"

one step taken a tad too late but astarion is never one to stumble over his feet, so with a roll of eyes and smirk returning to his lips, he tilts his head to the side in a questioning manner– to which, you reply by raising the bottle you've been holding, as if to say "hey, this time the wine is not that bad actually."

seeing him nod, and with too many people surrounding and asking for your attention, you find yourself having to divert your eyes away from him, as the people seem to chant for something from you, most likely another round of recounting your latest heroic victory, astarion thinks.

soon the sound of strings vibrating fills the air with faint first few notes of music.

of course, a celebration is not complete until there is music, no matter what time of the day it is or how tired everyone is. drunkards, raspy voices and dry throats all join together, offering back vocals to the lucky bard of the night– or the day; with how busy the hours have been passing, astarion realizes he is at a loss of time.

another glance stolen at you, and the light surrounding you like a halo certainly does not help his case.

golden, like the branches of your family crest, it is no wonder the moon shines bright above everyone, reflecting off the light you provide; brightening the world for all to see, to walk, breathe, make it all easier to live.

he spots shadowheart by some trees, enjoying her drink alone, gale and wyll speaking with people, probably giving them some answers they so desperately needed. his eyes roam the grounds and find each member of their little group, all too endorsed in whatever it is they are doing; yet one thing in common– a sense of relief, rejoice, change; the traces of especially the latter is out in the open for careful eyes, or just eyes who have seen and known them long enough.

he wonders for a moment if the same can be said for him, but he knows better, that it has already happened.

the sound of music gets louder and soon suppresses the irregular chatter spread around.

the tune sounding too familiar, astarion makes the mistake of looking at the source and being blinded as a result.

because, of course it would be you with your adorable little lute, clapped on the back by everyone 'just one song, then, o'mighty bard, please!' and never one to miss such moments, you would go up in your imaginary stage and pick the one song you were sure to draw his attention, as if you don't do that enough with your presence already.

your eyes already locked on him, you do your little trick where you pretend your attention is divided equally, as if your eyes are roaming the crowd, committing every face you see to your memory when your sole focus is on him, as he is drawn to you.

astarion knows, it is utterly foolish and even a little dangerous of him to think like this, but he fears what is to come by the end of your noble and enthralling series of journeys, when your effect on him has been this grand already.

not a fun thought to entertain, certainly not at a joyous time such as this one, were it not for your current occupation, he is positive you'd have walked all the way back to him to give him a good smack on the arm, or maybe a fisk on his forehead, or a knock on his skull along with a scolding to inform he got quite the thick skull if he is sulking like this at a time like that.

is it the fear of what has become of him, or what is to come when too much time passes, he is uncertain. but it must be another way of gods' mocking him, and cursing you perhaps– of all those faces and races, why did it have to be a human, that selfish part of him hisses. all those elves in the bloodline and you just had to be fully human, didn't you? giving him a taste of heaven, only for it to be cut short.

it was supposed to be moths with short lifespans, the cycle of the moon; not the sun, with all its grace and sanctity.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #original character #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3 astarion #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #bg3 drabble #astarion drabble #bg3 angst #bg3 x tav #astarion x mc #astarion angst #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #gender neutral character

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

Hazmat Hole 1: Overture

I went back and forth on whether to do the pilot or not, but ultimately decided not to. Pilots are meant to be an episode 0 that isn’t necessary to understanding the plot. I may go back to it after episode 8 if I’m not completely sick of this.

It starts off with a story book narration about how hell started because Lucifer was a rebel or something and just states very vaguely that he had big ideas heaven didn’t like. Also Adam was the first man, Lilith was the first woman but she didn’t like Adam and liked Lucifer better they fell in love or whatever and Lucifer gave Eve the apple and he and Lilith were banished to hell. I wish I could lie and say I was skipping over details but they used more words to explain that in about as much depth as I did there. Anyway. The important part is that Charlie is a princess of hell as the daughter of Lucifer and Lilith and the angels go down to hell annually to purge excess souls.

These two start off annoying and by god I do not see them getting any less so. Charlie is legitimately the most generic Disney Princess rip off I have ever seen in my life, complete with reading books aloud bursting into song. It’s genuinely jarring to hear her swear because you can tell the voice director basically just told her actor to pretend she’s auditioning for the little mermaid. Vaggie is annoying because she’s written like a middle schooler’s first “strong female character”. She’s the emo love interest in a B movie that was straight to video and made by people who don’t actually know what emo is.

Appropriation Deer is literally just here to make wise cracks and occasionally move in ways that make animators cry and deviantart users in 2010 scream in joy.

They could probably cut the budget in half by not having him in the show. Anyway no he is not here to do anything besides whine about how television sucks and emphasize that he’s only there at all because he’s into watching people fail and cry or whatever. He’s very flat as a character since he’s just there to be tumblr bait.

Angel is here and spends the entire episode being sexually aggressive to the point of making everyone there uncomfortable and that’s the entire joke. That’s it. He’s a gay man who says penis and wise cracks and sexually harasses the men in the hotel. Because that is how vivziepop writes her mlm characters.

We get a two for one easy joke with these two. Haha gay man is harassing a man who isn’t gay as well as haha asexual gets hit on but he says no way.

Angel is here because “crack is expensive” and they don’t charge him rent there.

Which he says while drinking a whole bottle of liquor to establish he’s an addict because vivziepop is as subtle as a bull in a China shop.

And thus we are taken to our first musical number. It’s very underwhelming.

Also Vaggie sings like she’s getting over a cold and plugging her nose and trying to do an impression of a duck.

The opening number also leaves me with a perplexing question. Can you die in hell? Do you go to super hell if you die in hell?

And we get our first real sexual harassment/assault joke from a giant slug flasher trying to make Charlie touch him in the middle of a musical number. I’m sure this bodes great for how angel’s abuse will be treated.

I hate that I know this but as someone who did shamefully hate watch sausage party twice I have to point out that Adam here is literally just a rip off of a sausage party character.

Everything down to the voice direction is literally just a rip off of the main antagonist of Sausage Party, the douche. This is probably somewhat intentional as vivziepop was a massive fan of that movie when it came out, but if you’re going to make an homage that borders on plagiarism (this is a joke I’m not accusing her of plagiarism here but it’s giving original character, donut steel), does it have to be from sausage party? Does it really? There’s other movies. Anyway he doesn’t say much, just establishes himself as a douche.

Back at the hotel they start filming a new commercial since Alastor intentionally made their first commercial bad because he wanted to make fun of them and hates TVs just that much. Nothing very interesting happens. Angel is hot horny. Husk doesn’t want to be there. Alastor makes a deal with Vaggie to help as long as she never makes him go on TV again.

We go back to Charlie begging Adam to stop coming to hell and killing demons by the hundreds every year and Adam says no in frankly one of the only songs that I like from this series. Sadly, it’s still terribly annoying and repetitive.

Viv posted meme please clap.

Isn’t this the homophobic character from the pilot? Didn’t realize she was given a male voice to imply she’s either a drag Queen or trans I guess. Great. I’m sure it’s a very artistic and respectful choice and not every other more likely reason this was the casting decision.

The episode ends with the discovery that an Angel was killed during the last extermination so they plan to come back in just six months to kill every demon in hell. I might care if any character established themselves as anything other than a vessel to spout boring exposition and sex jokes for twenty minutes.

And that’s episode one. It’s honestly just boring and all of the explicit language sounds extremely forced and awkward.

0/10, the one okay song wasn’t enough to save it. Too much exposition dumping.

#hazbin hotel #hazmat motel #hazmat hole #owlvid live-blogging

[peaky-shelby]

Bulldog | Mbappe x Reader

Requested by @mrs-bellingham : "I’m not saying it was a good idea, I'm saying I snapped"

Writer's note: originally requested for Virgil Van Dijk, thank you for letting my change it into kylian again and sorry. For future requests if anyone is wondering for now I'm writing for Kylian, neymar, hakimi, Bellingham and Mason. You can always request with other players but it just isn't certain I'll do it. Love you all xx

Maybe it’s not that bad, I thought to myself. Pacing back and forth on the changing rooms, if it were any other time I would hate being there. The strong perfumes always made my stomach twist and turn I hated it but right now something else was making my stomach twist and turn which I hated even more. I rubbed my face with my hands, like it was a lamp and I could wish for time to get back and I could stop him from doing what he did but time seemed to be remaining painfully slow and moving forward. I was panicking, exaggerating, making a bid deal out of nothing-

“We have a problem-“ Kylian walked in behind you, opening and closing the door quickly, pretty much ruining all my hopes that it was all in my head. I turned around to face him, holding my hands in fists. I had been dealing with the drama that came with being friends with Kylian pretty well, I had accepted it, along with the constant following of the paparazzi. When you started dating you both tried to kept it a secret for as long as he could and it seemed to be working out until-

“You punched the fucking guy in the face-“

“I know!” he said, raising his hands, like he was being called by a referee for a foul.

“Oh you know?” I asked, mocking him “that sucks because I would prefer for you to tell me you were hypnotized or something.”

“How would that be better?”

You reached down at one of the benches, snatching the closest thing you could find which was a psg shirt and threw at him “how Is just punching a guy out of the blue a better idea?”

“Hey!” he held the shirt in his hands “I never said it was a good idea. I’m saying I snapped!”

“couldn’t you have snapped at a wall or something?”

“They guy was taking pictures of us! Why are you mad at me?” he yelled back. I took a deep breath in and sat on the nearest bench, holding my head in my hands, fearing that it might even explode. I heard him sighing and cursing until he sat next to me. I couldn’t even look at him, I was feeling all sorts of emotions, fearing for tomorrow’s headlines and articles, the impact it would have on his public figure. “I’m sorry” he mumbled; I knew how hard it must have been for him to do. I titled my head to look at him, he was staring at the floor. “I thought I could get the camera and the pictures would never be leaked- I was trying to save it as much as I could-“

“Famous last words.” I joked and looked away again.

“I know what these pictures of us making out seeing the light is gonna do to you, I wanted to stop him.”

“You broke his jaw.”

“That’s-“ he searched for the right words “I didn’t break his jaw. He is overreacting. I’ve had tougher hits on the field”

“I’m pretty sure he was bleeding-“

“The floors are red you wouldn’t know if he was bleeding-“

You looked a him shocked about to laugh “That’s what you’re going with?”

“Listen he’ll be fine, ok? Will this be a story? Maybe-“

“Definitely” you corrected.

“Probably. Will I need to pay for his doctor appointments in the near future?”

“Absolutely.”

“Do I regret it?”

“I hope so!”

“No.” he answered bluntly. I was taken aback by how serious he looked, like he was making a confession that if it came down to it, he would do it again. “Hey look at me.” He placed his hand on my cheek, his touch was doing things to me without even trying. He pushed my hair behind my ear, smiling because he knew that always made me weak. “That guy said things about you, he took inappropriate pictures of you without your permission, I’d knock him out again if I had to.” I couldn’t help but feel love him in that moment, the way his eyes fell on me sent shivers down my spine. Like I was his and only his and no one else was allowed to even look at me without his permission. I leaned in and kissed him, a sloppy kiss, that would give him the reward he deserved for protecting me.

“My loyal bulldog, biting anyone that gets close enough.” You whispered in his lips.

“Damn right!” he replied, pushing me back on the bench so he’d be laying on top of me, kissing my cheek and then my neck, leaving a small bite on my skin, that made me laugh. “Sometimes biting you too” he said, making me laugh even more. He slipped his hands under my shirt, his hands on my skin finding their place on my waist. Getting caught on the hallways obviously taught us nothing because we were about to finish what we started and we would have if the door didn’t crack open, making us both jump on our feet.

“OH!” said Neymar disgusted closing his eyes “You guys wanna get a room or something- for fuck’s shake.” He opened his eyes slowly, making sure no one was naked “Coach wants to see you. Now.”

“Merde…” He looked at me, a sympathetic expression on his eyes and gave me one last kiss “I love you.”

“Love you too Kyky.”

“Yeah, have fun in there-“ he patted Kylian In the back, while I stood back watching him leave. I looked up at Ney, worried.

“Is he gonna be ok?”

“He’s gonna get a good yelling but he will survive don’t worry.” He looked at me smiling “are you gonna be, ok?”

“Sure.”

I went home without him and waited for him to return. Turns out he had been benched for next game, coach wasn’t happy for his reaction at all but Kylian seemed pretty chilled, despite the consequences. We cuddled on the couch, my head on his chest, his hand messing with my hair while I slowly fell asleep in his arms. “Thank you” I whispered, getting his attention. He looked down at me confused and I raised my head as much as I could to look at him “I didn’t say thank you or sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, almost laughing at my sudden gratitude or apology.

“For what you did for me.”

He smiled, his hand slipping on my cheek, his entire palm covering it “No need to thank me. You said it yourself I’m your bulldog. I was born to protect you.”

My face fell back on his chest, while I blushed and I hugged him as tight as I could, making sure he wasn’t just a dream.

#kylian mbappe #mbappe imagines #mbappé #mbappe x reader #mbappe #neymar one shot #neymar imagines #neymar x reader #neymar jr

[himehomu]

Homura did nothing wrong. And I stand by that. Because, she didn't do anything wrong towards anyone nor did she do anything with malicious intent. The only thing she did wrong is entirely in regards to herself. Rather than basing Homura's entire character around an act she made out of love or reduce her character to an evildoer with no morals nor love in her heart like some people still do to this day under the poor facade of “valid criticism,” I'm going to explain what Homura actually did wrong in Rebellion and her what her act of selfishness actually was.

What Homura did wrong was condemn herself to suffering as an immortal deity, the Devil whom acts as a rebellion against God, The Law of Cycles, strict laws of the original universe, which included Madoka Kaname not existing. That is what she did wrong, but not in the black and white, Good-vs-Evil way most people interpret this as. Yes, they are meant to be enemies one day, but because God favors rules and always doing the right thing, whereas the Devil favors her desire to stay in a world where Madoka is happy, where her friends are happy, where they are safe and have a chance at a life. A desire for happiness vs maintaining order of a broken world for the greater good, even if maintaining order means making sacrifices and making hard choices that directly rebel against that desire and yearning for happiness.

But, here is why Homura is wrong in dooming herself to her fate as the Devil. It's very subtle, but seconds before the Flower Field scene, as they are walking, Madoka turns and tells Homura that it really hurts her seeing her in so much pain and not being able to do anything about it. This may seem like a simple thing a friend would say, but remember that Madoka lost her memories as a goddess. And, as a goddess, she was stuck alone in Heaven having to watch life go by, Homura's life go by, and wasn't able to interfere. Think about that for a second. Think about being Madokami.

Think about when she could finally understand just how much Homura did for her, just how much Homura fought for her in all those time loops; the moment she's able to reciprocate her feelings, she fades from existence as the consequence. Wanting so badly to comfort Homura as she bears the psychological burden of being the only person to remember her, to know her, to miss her, to grieve and mourn her. Thinking the only time she’ll ever be able to see let alone talk to Homura again is when she’s essentially dying from all the grief, the pain, the guilt, the sadness of not being able to save her from her fate of being a goddess trapped in isolation. Think about that, then look at what she says here again. Of course it hurts Madoka seeing Homura hurting so badly and feeling powerless to do anything about it. Because that's what she's been doing as The Law of Cycles. Much like how she said she'd never make the decision to become a Goddess in the first place a few seconds later, she says this because this is the real Madoka who loves and cherishes Homura, who hates to see her hurt.

Take that into consideration when looking at what Homura turns herself into at the end of Rebellion, how she's suffering and you can see the exhaustion on her face and in her eyes, how you can see the immortality essentially sucking the humanity out of her to the point where she herself believes she is evil. This was never about Good vs. Evil. This is about Homura hating herself so much not only for being unable to save Madoka, but possibly even for loving her in the first place considering her love is what made her powerful enough to condemn herself to her fate as a Goddess trapped in Heaven with her wish. This is about Madoka hating herself so much to where she only deems herself worthy so long as she's helping others, her self-loathing making her reduce herself to a sacrificial lamb and throwing away her life for the better of everyone else, caring so little for herself and being unable to even fathom that she'd be mourned or grieved if she were to die, thus sacrificing herself over and over, seeing herself as a means to an end if it means freedom for everyone she loves. Madoka has always been there to comfort Homura and protect her since the first timeline. How can she do that if her memories and powers to do so are locked away? She can't. Because Homura doesn't believe she deserves Madoka's love.

Homura doesn't believe she's worth Madoka's sacrifice in becoming a God and Madoka doesn't believe she's worth Homura's sacrifice in becoming the Devil. Madoka cannot understand that she is so so much more than what she can give to other people whilst Homura is the only one that does. Homura can't understand that dooming herself to immortality pains and hurts Madoka because she can't do anything about it thus she can't save her from her suffering like how Homura ceased her suffering. It's a cycle. A snake eating it's own tail. A pumpkin that spins round and round and round. They're both selfish and they're both selfless. Homura is selfish in the sense that she's not taking into consideration how Madoka would feel if she knew how much she were suffering as the Devil for her sake yet she is being selfless because she's only suffering as the Devil for Madoka and her family and their friends to have a happy life. Madoka is selfish in the same sense that she's not taking into consideration just how psychologically damaging it is for Homura to not only have to watch her die over and over again throughout 100 timelines but to then erase herself from existence with Homura being the only one to remember her and she is selfless by of course only sacrificing herself so much because she cares for everyone and all Magical Girls, Homura especially included. They both love each other enough to sacrifice themselves for the other but they both hate themselves so much to where they believe they are undeserving of the other's love hence they keep dooming themselves to suffering in isolation and in turn dooming each other.

#pmmm #puella magi madoka magica #puella magi madoka magica rebellion #mahou shoujo madoka magica #madoka magica #madomagi #pmmm rebellion #madoka magica rebellion #madoka kaname #homura akemi #madohomu #i dont wanna say they invented doomed yuri but at the same time.... #did homura do anything morally wrong? no. she did something wrong in terms of dooming herself to internal psychological suffering #which is something madoka outright says hurts her to see homura go through whilst not being able to do anything about it #homura took away madoka's agency to help her because she feels she deserves this for madoka's sake #homura didn't trap madoka she trapped herself and locked madoka out so that she can't interfere bc she wants her to have a normal life #homura is really not the abusive monster y'all make her out to be the only person she's abusing is herself #she's my self destructive pookie bear and what about it #cw long post

[daisybianca]

INSTAGRAM AU

Daniel Ricciardo

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 445.092 others

yourusername our favorite uncle <3 their bond is so strong that they sometimes get confused and accidentally call him daddy🤣

view all 2.982 comments

dannyricfp I've never seen an uncle being that hot to be honest bruh.

user72927 it's the curly hair for me.

dannyric3fanpage it's basically EVERYTHING for me. I swear to God this man is going to be the death of me.

danielricciardo I'm hot, I know.

landonorris why do people create fan pages of you? yikes man, that sucks.

danielricciardo as I said before, I'm hot.

danielricciardo so you're mad now that some 8 year old calls me daddy🤨

yourusername no I don't mind actually.

danielricciardo 🧢

user82929 I'd sell my parents to a bazaar if only they adopted me💀

user88190 AHAHA. FOR REAL. I believe that they would make SUCH good parents. My babies are authentic parents material.

landonorris @ yourusername @ danielricciardo I want to become an uncle.

danielricciardo so, you want us to have sex.

landonorris yes. please, film the process so we can be blessed with an original tutorial from a real goat 🐐🙏

yourusername oh shut up both of you😂

danielricciardo why, babe? basically EVERYONE has sex (Lando, I won't criticize. your comment because this will evolve into an online fist fight.)

yourusername no, not everyone. we don't.😔

danielricciardo 🤡keep telling yourself that shit, (y/n)🤡

liked by charlesleclerc, yourusername and 972.082 others

danielricciardo attended the tattoo artist this morning with a lady I bumped into just moments before the scheduled appointment.

view all 5.726 comments

yourusername so I go by 'a lady I bumped into just moments before the schedule appointment' now??? I love my brand-new nickname🥰

danielricciardo I love you, a lady I bumped into just moments before the schedule appointment.

landonorris not funny.

user72828 STOP INTERRUPTING THEIR MOMENT. go buy some ice-cream, damn.

user62829 it's their best era and I'm SO here for it.

user12927 YES. YES. YES.

user72829 to have a Danny Ric in your life🥰

maxverstappen1 yes, extremely tiring, I know.

danielricciardo oh, you're still alive.

maxverstappen1 unfortunately, you happened to be very unlucky, buddy.

liked by danielricciardo, lewishamilton and 879.028 others

yourusername damn, I don't have much to say about his human being. he's extraordinary and uniquely beautiful in his own way.🥺 happy birthday, my boy. keep making this cruel world and our lives a better and a safest place. I love you so much (even though you're sleeping and snoring like a baby pig, right next to me at the moment)❤️

lewishamilton wishing this big guy a very happy and blessing birthday🙏

user82929 awww, babyyy.

user9292 HAPPY BDAY DANNY RIC. WE ADORE YOU.

user02729 ADORE isn't enough to describe how much I love this man.

maxverstappen1 happy birthday, sleeping beauty. as (y/n) said, keep making the world a louder, bolder, tiring, better place💗

danielricciardo not sleeping anymore. thanks but I know you love me deep down.💕🙏

danielricciardo thank you, baby❤️💕 (not thankful for screaming and singing the bday song next to my ear to wake me up, though.)

user62881 AHAHHAHA. They're the DEFINITION of a powerful couple. Iconic.

yourusername my voice is angelic to say, at least. you SHOULD be thankful for that, as well.

landonorris yayyy. one year closer to becoming a dilf. congrats on your accomplishment, Daniel👏

danielricciardo ran out of birthday wishes and decided to search it up on pinterest, huh?

user62677 AHAHHA. leave our baby Lando alone pls😔

landonorris I'm not a big fan of pinterest, so no, I chose Google instead. But at least I try to be creative, you know.

#f1 drivers #daniel ricciardo #f1 #f1 mclaren #mclaren f1 #mclaren #danny ric #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo one shot #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo edit #daniel ricciardo fanart #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 #formula one oneshot #formula 1 imagine #f1 wags #f1 instagram au #formula one #formula 1 blurb #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver x you #max verstappen #lando norris #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader

[getvalentined]

What’s your opinions of the various ffvii compilation games?

Oh I am a huge proponent of the Compilation as a whole; I know that opinion is rare for someone who's been in the fandom from the beginning, but I'm an insufferable lore gremlin and I just eat up everything the series has to offer. I have three different copies of Advent Children (the original on DVD, ACC on DVD, and ACC on blu-ray) and even still watch Last Order on occasion.

The series itself is really fascinating and staggeringly consistent (I've talked about how the implied timeline of the Jenova Project as presented in-game is so consistent that it matches up with real-world human gestational science), with the exception of the FF7Re series—which I can deal with, since it's canonically on a different timeline and therefore any retcons there are literal in-universe retcons, which is pretty brilliant.

That said, I'mma put ratings for the pieces of the Compilation individually under a cut!

OG FF7: 9/10. would be 10/10 if the English localization were better. Where it all started, still one of my favorite games of all time.

Advent Children (+Complete): 8/10. Not a game, but part of the Compilation! Anyone who says the plot makes no sense doesn't realize that they're watching a sequel that relies very heavily on people understanding the history and characterization of every single character shown.

Last Order: 6.5/10. Also not a game, also part of the Compilation. Love that this is implied to literally be Tseng's coverup of what happened with Zack, presented in anime form. Makes no sense in multiple places as a result, but if you know that's what it is then you can 100% see why it's portrayed that way! Honestly I really enjoyed it and wish more people would appreciate it for what it is.

Dirge of Cerberus: 7/10. The gameplay kinda sucks but honestly the storyline is super good—or it would be, if the entire fucking prologue hadn't been cut from any release outside Japan, thereby leaving the entire issue with DeepGround completely unexplained to all other audiences. Once you know what is going on, the storyline here is fantastic, and I've never really forgiven SE for not releasing the rest of it. I love that Dirge fills in the lore for Vincent that was cut when he was relegated to "optional" in the OG, and that it also helps to clarify why Midgar could have 9 functional mako reactors while every other reactor in the world is either sputtering to nothing or exploding. (It's Omega. Midgar is built over Omega. It's the place where all lines of the Lifestream converge so that Omega can draw it all in and carry it away at the end of the world, and Shinra never discovered that's why the mako well there is so expansive. I love good worldbuilding, and Dirge is a beautiful example of that.)

Before Crisis: N/A. I want this game so bad man where is it give it to meeeee. Honestly tho I've watched playthroughs and read scripts where available, and while I don't think it looks like much fun from a modern gameplay perspective, I have huge respect for it as far as development goes. This is one of the first really mainstream mobile games ever made, it was made for flip phones, and it's super extensive! Also it gave me Veld, who is one half of my favorite ship ever, which means it automatically gets a 7/10 even if I've never played it.

Crisis Core (+Reunion): 9/10. As fun to play as the OG. When I first played this on PSP over a decade ago, it hit me with such an intense feeling of nostalgia that it almost took me off my feet. In spite of the dramatic difference between game mechanics in CC versus the OG, it felt exactly like playing the OG again, and that feeling never really left. Humanized Sephiroth in a beautiful way that pissed off a bunch of fanboys and made me fall in love with him all over again. Also introduced my second favorite FF7 character ever, Genesis, who is one half of one of my core FF7 ships, so A+ on that too!

FF7 Remake (+InterMISSION): 8/10. Had a lot of fun with this one, and it's beautiful, but it doesn't have a lot of replayability in my experience, which is a shame. Would have been 6 or 7/10 if not for InterMISSION, which was a fucking delight.

FF7 First SOLDIER: 6/10. This applies to both the Battle Royale and the title in Ever Crisis. I am not a fan of Glenn & Co. but I love 14 year old Sephiroth and really appreciate that extension of lore and worldbuilding, so it's a decent balance. I love that the opening cutscene for the battle royale literally filled a 20+ year old plot hole in under two minutes.

FF7 Rebirth: 9.5/10. The only things that could make me like this game more would be if Vincent were playable (although I understand why he's not and, in spite of him being my favorite fictional character ever, I agree with this decision), and fewer required minigames. Just cut like one or two. Or fix the controls, maybe. Glide de Chocobo is even more broken now that it's been patched.

#fandom ramble #ff7