#the only reason you had me was to be your little servant anyway so fuck off im not doing that anymore

[this-is-just-here-for-venting]

parents when you have a life outside of doing chores for them and picking up their mess

#like wow so sorry that im working and classes just started #but no let me just go get YOUR meds cause you cant be piss bothered to leave the house yourself #i dont give a shit that your sick #you never care when i am and make me do shit anyway #i already clean up after you and im the only reason this house isnt a fucking disaster #on top of doing my own shit like working when im scheduled unlike you #and opening week of school means im trying to get in a new flow of things #but heaven for fucking bid that i dont wanna do a chore for you #why are YOU allowed to be depressed and stay in your room sick and out of work for legit 2 weeks at a time #but IM not allowed to take a day off when i tried to kill myself the night before #why do i have to be the strong one and keep going into work and keep up with classes on top of cleaning your mess #and why do you get mad when im in a pissy mood or cant do things for you when Im busy too #so fucking sorry that i have a life outside of you and want time to myself as well #go fuck yourself youre never going to know where i live when i move out and im never helping you clean your house again #calling me selfish because i dont wanna do something for you when im dealing with other shit #then fuck you i am going to be selfish you dont deserve my help if you dont care i have things to do outside of taking care of a pill junky #despite what you think i have empathy i just dont have empathy for you b/c you dont care about me outside of me being your child #the only reason you had me was to be your little servant anyway so fuck off im not doing that anymore

[galactic-cumslut]

bleed magic

this was originally titled heavy metal heart but anyways here’s some evil!rick bc i love men who are totally irredeemable,, i hope it’s not obvious i didn’t know where i was going with this..bc i didn’t

rick is a mean dom, slave/master dynamics, afab reader, lots of degrading, cockwarming, exhibitionism , he just wants to show off his power be frl

you liked to think you had an ounce of pride in your body. it was just a thought though. in reality you had none left. he made sure of that.

“c-c-come to me pet. on your knees immediately”. he had said,long legs spread on his throne. his eyes bore into you daring you to refuse him.

instantly you fell to your knees, awaiting your next command.

“what an obedient slut, look at me a stick out your tongue”.

you wanted to resist. anyone could walk in at any time and see you in such a vulnerable state-being used by your lord. the teasing would surely kill you if the sheer embarrassment didn’t first.

a sharp smack to your face threw you back into reality. you hesitated. one thing rick doesn’t stand for is hesitation, once he gives an order he expects it fulfilled immediately.

“are you de-deaf or something, bitch? or do i need to s-spell every little thing out for you, jesus christ you’re stupid. tongue out. eyes on me”.

fear overcame you and you did as you were told. you expected him to insert his fingers inside your mouth but instead he leaned down and spit directly onto your tongue.

“swallow”. he commanded.

as shocked as you were you quickly swallowed. if wanting to be hit again.

rick seemed pleased with you eating up the fear in your eyes.

“there we gooo, all it takes is a little discipline with you huh”? he stroked your cheek gently and you willing lean into his touch. “you just want to be a good little slave for your master hmm”?

rick was almost never gentle with you so of course you were quick to answer. eager to receive more praise. “yes sir”.

“of course you do my darling little cum slut. on your feet at once”.

he offered you his hand as to help you up from the uncomfortable position between his legs.

“i’m going to explain what’s going to happen and you’re going to listen closely”.

you nodded, almost eager to hear what he had up your sleeve.

“the council is coming for a visit very soon and since you’re my most obedient servant you’re going to be shown off. it’ll asset dominance as well as keep attention on me”.

again you nodded, unsure of what he meant by his words. usually he didn’t allow the council anywhere near his lair. ‘what could have changed’ you thought.

“you have one job y/n. you’re going to sit still and stay quiet. your only duty is to look pretty”.

———————-

“welcome council of ricks. i trust you have all been briefed about the reason you are here”. rick bellowed , addressing the six other versions of him sitting in his court.

you in the other hand were in another world of bliss, sitting atop his cock infront of so many men.

less than an hour ago you were worried about someone walking in on you and your master. oh how things have changed. the many eyes locked onto your body-it gave you a feeling of power.

the feeling of his cock twitching inside you was enough to have you drooling. you did your best to sit up straight and smile.you didn’t want to disappoint your master after all.

as if he could read your mind he bucked his hips up slightly causing you to gasp in a mix of surprise and pleasure. “be a good girl infront of the other ricks and you’ll get a biiiig reward”. he whispered in your ear, nipping at your lobe.

“shall we conduct business”?

the group became silence and focused their eyes on rick…or they tried to as you stole their attention away from whatever brining speech rick had planned up.

“i understand that you’re all infatuated with my newest plaything” he started, a crazed grin spread king across his face. “give me what i ask and she is all yours”. fuck his speech, you were a much better bargaining chip.

#uh ohhh #my kinks are showing #i’m a crazed maniac #when it comes to rick at least #i hunger for his attention #like i’m out of my mind over him #i’ve lost it #it’s official #my tags are going to get worse from here #so enjoy normal tags #THIS TIME #WAHAHAHA #that’s my evil laugh #rick sanchez smut #rick sanchez x reader #evil rick #evil rick smut #evil rick x reader #rick and morty #smutty blurb #smutty drabble #esha writes

[sunder-the-gold]

Do you think that Scott Pilgrim Takes Off was a series that was written by people who either hate the source material so much that they want to change it or love the source material so much that they want to make improvements to it?

First, I want to make it clear that I'm only strictly answering your question, and I'm not addressing the unrelated question of "Is Scott Pilgrim Takes Off any good?"

Second, a confession upfront. I haven't read Scott Pilgrim or watched the movie. I was definitely interested in watching this animated adaptation as my first introduction to the story, but I currently don't even have my own Netflix account, let alone have watched Takes Off for myself.

But I've been paying attention.

In that linked article, Grabinski, the writer for the 'adaptation', admitted that "There's a lot of ideas I did end up having that Bryan felt were wrong for Scott. Most of them end up in there..." (emphasis mine)

Have you heard about the Criterion of Embarrassment? It's the realization that historians had, that no person or nation would have a reason to record a lie about a great defeat or embarrassment. That if they passed such a story down in monuments, writing, or legends, it must be because they suffered a very real tragedy that they were desperate for their descendants to not repeat.

You may be more familiar with a modern take on the idea, through social media. "Posting your 'L's online", "telling on yourself", or "you could not have paid me to confess that".

Netflix is a corporation, and there is very little difference between a corporation and a nation. They seek profit to survive and grow stronger in a world filled with vicious rivals and would-be allies. Maintaining a strong, confident image keeps rivals from becoming too aggressive, and convinces would-be allies to continue investing support into what seems like a profitable venture.

Grabinski is a servant of Netflix, and will do his master's bidding for money.

Remember all the bullshit that Kevin Smith told the world about Revelations? Market strategy. Profit at any cost. Never admit when someone catches you with your pants down.

I'm not saying you should assume Grabinski's positive claims are lies. If a corporation tells me that grass is green and the sky is blue, I don't immediately assume everything I knew was a lie. That would be paranoid and self-defeating.

But what I will do is step outside to double-check, and see what the corporation may be lying about. The grass may currently be dead-brown, and the sky may currently be storm-green.

Grabinski admits that he asserted his vision in direct, knowing opposition that of the original creator, many times.

The same original creator who would have to sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement with Netflix that would gag him from saying anything negative about a venture into which Netflix invests a lot of money. So we also have to remain skeptical of silence and a lack of counter-claims.

But although we have to take positive claims and silence with a grain of salt, we absolutely should believe someone when they confess something that they would have EVERY REASON to not make up or confess unless it was a genuine fear and embarrassment to them.

"There's a lot of ideas I did end up having that Bryan felt were wrong for Scott. Most of them end up in there…"

"At the end of the day, if I don't feel like I've gotten away with something or like I robbed a bank and I'm not getting arrested, then I kind of feel like I fucked up when I made something anyway."

"There was a very long time where I felt like someone was gonna knock on a door and say, ‘Actually, you guys shouldn't do this.'"

A guilty conscience, by itself, isn't absolute proof of guilt. A conscience can be burdened with unworthy premises.

But this man couldn't reorient his conscience despite working with Bryan on this project for THREE YEARS, while wanting us to believe that he has Bryan's full, uncoerced blessing. And Grabinski can't stop telling on himself.

So we must use those embarrassing confessions as a fork to winnow the chaff from the grain.

"Our rule was that nothing would go on the show that either of us didn't like..." which is a positive claim that directly contradicts the embarrassing confession that Grabinski directly defied the creator "many" times to include things that "felt wrong" for Scott Pilgrim.

"If there's something Bryan didn't think was funny, it didn't go in there." But he'd already confessed to including things Bryan didn't agree with, and everyone can find something funny on its own merits without agreeing that it should be funny or that it belongs in some particular piece of art.

The Test of Love

How do you know someone truly loves something? That they seek to serve it, and not merely to use it?

Jesus of Nazareth had some things to say about love.

When asked what God's most important command was, he didn't just answer that the most important command was to love God. Because anyone could claim they loved God and that everything they did was in service to God. Madmen and monsters have done terrible things 'in God's name'.

So Jesus also told the people what the second-most important command was, because obeying this second command is how you know whether someone truly loves God.

"Love your neighbor as yourself." Because when you hurt God's other children, you are hating God.

What Am I On About?

Netflix does not love Scott Pilgrim if it disrespects Scott Pilgrim fans.

Netflix does not respect Scott Pilgrim fans when it uses False Advertising to avoid the possibility that some of them wouldn't have watched Ramona Flowers Takes Over.

Netflix does not love the fans when it is counting on hurt feelings to drive internet backlash, and for backlash to give it free marketing through Tumblr controversy.

Netflix DOES NOT LOVE. It produces and consumes. It is a corporation, designed to profit and survive.

A corporation will only sell worthwhile products as long as it fears you won't otherwise buy its products. But if you buy its products after it has blatantly lied to you, the corporation loses some of its fear.

It will lie to you again. It will try bigger and nastier lies. Because it does not love you, and you stopped making it fear you.

Netflix already did this with Masters of the Universe: Revelations.

Square-Enix did this with the Final Fantasy 7: Remake.

The corporations are all watching eagerly to see how successful this strategy is. Because none of them love you, and they are always hungry.

A final word: "Even THOSE fans? But I hate those fans!"

I don't think someone who focuses on how Scott Pilgrim is a 'bad person' is superior in any way to someone who denies Scott Pilgrim is a 'bad person'.

I think both sorts of people are myopically using Scott Pilgrim as a way to deny that they are ALSO 'bad people'.

And this meme also applies to what even the other characters of the story conclude about both Scott and Ramona!

"You two deserve each other -- not in the sense that no one else is good enough for either of you, but in that both of you should be quarantined together."

Ramona doesn't deserve a free pass denied to Scott.

If Ramona Flowers can be a good character because she's a 'bad person' who selfishly hurt a lot of people and who has to go through an entire story where she confronts her flaws, makes peace with her past, and tries to improve as a person...

Then Scott Pilgrim was not a crime against humanity for getting VS The World to tell the same sort of story.

Guess what! We're ALL 'bad people' who have selfish desires, who don't fully understand other people or what we're doing to them, and who have to learn how to be better people!

You don't get to point at a main character with real, ugly, human flaws and say "I'm better than him, so he shouldn't exist!"

You don't get to ignore a main character's flaws and say, "He's perfect the way he is and so I have every right to act exactly like him without any criticism!"

Because when you deny you're another 'bad person' like the rest of us, you not only refuse to improve, you become an even WORSE person.

#scott pilgrim #scott pilgrim takes off #sunder says

[my-little-wraithlings]

Good god, as a fanfic author that writes primarily whump and hurt/comfort (both emotional and physical), watching Renfield had me fucking quivering with need! My whole fanfic career is about making convoluted reasons for critters (characters) being in pain and being cared for. But good lord, I don't even need to work! This movie practically hand-feeds situations to you!

Anyway, my brain keeps rattling around with little fic ideas. A few quick fic ideas below.

Note: All the scenarios below can, in this state of being, be read platonically or romantically depending on your particular views. Personally, I don't ship Dracula and Renfield around the time of the movie but I honestly felt they've always had a romantic pull more towards the beginning of their relationship. Still super toxic/concerning but believable.

1 ) Robert is struggling to adjust to human life, mainly in the small ways. Now that he has his freedom for sure, he's trying to discover what to do with his time. He's not the brightest and each decade he's only had limited in any given culture so he's not really sure what activities/jobs are open to him. His therapy friends and Rebecca have helped him start over but he's still finding adjustment difficult. Because of the murdered cops, he's unable to get back to his apartment currently until the complex can be cleaned up and cleared for people to go back home. Meanwhile, he's living with Rebecca. The problem is that she is an incredibly strong presence and Robert is living in her "territory". It doesn't take long for Rebecca and Mark to recognize that Robert is starting to imprint on Rebecca as his new master. A reality they have to quickly work to reverse.

2 ) The setting is the past, shortly after Renfield has fallen to Dracula's alluring words. Things happen and they have to leave Dracula's current lair. On their travels, Renfield is injured during the day while he is moving Dracula's coffin. Renfield is still getting used to his new powers, the call of insects do not yet catch his cravings like they will in the future. As the sun sinks, Renfield feels himself starting to fade to wounds that were worse than he realized. Dracula is awakened and finds his familiar in a bad state. The vampire is struck by an unfamiliar feeling of concern. He has grown attached to his new servant. The relationship is new and delicate. An affection that has not yet turned smothering and abusive fills Dracula. He teaches Renfield the rewards of being a loyal servant by healing his wounds for the first time.

3 ) Robert's time as a familiar has made him more than a little strange by human standards. It's things beyond the cravings to eat insects. His skin is pale, his heartbeat is slower than a human's, his body runs cooler than a normal human. He's still able to get sick but it hasn't been something that has come up since work for Dracula. Now that his supply of Dracula blood is limited to a few jugs (I'm taking liberties, shush), he refuses to take any unless he is fatally wounded. When he catches the flu from someone at therapy, it hits him hard. He has no vaccines and his body hasn't had to make antibodies in a very long time. When the fever hits, it hits him. Rebecca is busy trying to juggle her life, keeping secrets from her sister, and helping Robert get his place back. She is struck with guilt when she finally realizes Robert is sick. His fever bumped his body heat up to that of a normal human being and Rebecca hadn't noticed right away. Despite the very real fact that people from Robert's time don't handle flu well, he's still refusing to take the blood. Rebecca does her best to help and the two snuggle up since Robert can't remember what it's like to be comforted while sick. While holding him, Rebecca decides she'll have to feed him some blood when he loses consciousness if this fever doesn't break soon.

4 ) (In the past) Vampire appetites are fickle things. When in an isolated area and there's no food in the nearby seasonal village, choices have to be made. Renfield is the human nearby. Though slight changes have set in for him, he still has the power to provide a meal. He's skittish and frightened by the idea. He has seen his master eat, it makes the bugs squirm in his belly. But despite his hunger, Dracula is being strangely patient with him. Renfield knows it is his duty and agrees to let his master feed before Renfield can cower away and need to be forced. It's a horrific experience!! Renfield feels even colder than usual but is important. He is left alive. And his master's gratitude is paid forward. Renfield is allowed to curl close to his master while fighting off the quivering torment and dizziness of blood-loss. Renfield smiles while he recovers, because surely this privilege means he really is important to Master!

5 ) also, any fuckin' excuse for broken ribs and stab wounds.

--

Okay, those weren't short but whatever.

This movie also really leans itself to being extremely easy to crossover with lots of stuff. I wish I was still caught up with NCIS: New Orleans. that'd be perfect!

#renfield #renfield 2023 #robert montague renfield #rebecca quincy #dracula #renfield scenarios #tw: blood #tw: bugs #hurt/comfort #[It's 2:40 AM. the fuck am I doing?!

[boypussydilf]

various rambling and working out a vague picture of the timeline bc sabertoothwalrus has me thinking about The Fucking Thing With The Empress again

in the past i’ve assumed vampires didn’t really start coming out (of hiding i guess?? where were they?? what were they doing in all those centuries before the war when people did not believe magic was real so it’s not like they were aware vampires existed and were still around but . maybe they hibernated who knows whatever it doesn’t matter it’s just funny)

ANYWAY i kind of had assumed vampires didn’t really Come Back Out Into The World until marcy’s teen years/10-ish years after the mushroom bomb but vampworld VK finding marceline when she was like 6-7 indicates they were Out And Walkin’ Around pretty much right after the apocalypse hit

i guess as far as i remember there’s never any indication whether or not simon & marcy ran into any Vampire Problems while they were still together. i’ve assumed not but there’s no actual evidence for that. we basically know like 2 things that happened to them we don’t have a lot to go off of for what they Did or Did Not run into together

but for now i’m assuming not. it seems like vampires prefer to be Where Groups Of Humans Are, for obvious reasons, and it seems like simon & marceline never ran into any humans together (or at least not any friendly ones.) simon’s notes from i remember you indicate he thought they might have been the only people still alive & let’s be real if they ever found other people who were Not Hostile and had resources to survive simon would’ve immediately gone Oh boy!!! Someone who can take care of marcy and not fuck up!!!! and made her go with them while he fucked off into the woods to be sad and alone or whatever the hell he did after leaving her aside from getting hypnotized by a vampire.

i just got distracted bc its so funny Why did the empress choose this guy ??????????? like . insert “a thousand years later and you still can’t get anything right” girl if he’s always sucked at this why is he your Emotional Support Thrall. how did he not get killed

anyway i don’t think we have any indication whether he ever ran into any vampires while he was still with marceline but one way or another he sure does remember when there were vampires around and has a dedicated set of Vampire Survival Skills. skills is maybe the wrong word. he tries so fucking hard but he can’t stake a completely nonmoving target. did he always suck at this too

we know from the empress’s dialogue that simon had still not lost his mind all the way by the time she decided to make him her Favorite Little Human Servant - still remembered his name, still sane enough to Get Hypnotized, her surrounding dialogue when she calls ice king “this pathetic clown character” implies she remembers him acting More Like Simon and Less Like Ice King which is really fucking impressive, actually, he’s extremely Not Holding It Together when he leaves marceline and he still managed to hold on to his identity and some of his usual behavior for 5+ years after that without her jesus christ man

simon in the star talks about marceline becoming A Great Vampire Hunter kind of like it’s something he saw. she could’ve just told him about that part of her life sometime after CAWM, but,

the way marceline talks to the empress in empress eyes sounds kind of like she saw simon interacting with the empress. (“that’s the last time you toy with his heart”)

did they see each other again there? while marceline was hunting vampires? while simon still remembered who Simon Petrikov was?

who left who?

In conclusion fucked up right. Like huh. The entire situation raises so many questions. Why did they never bring this up again

#i spent like 45 minutes writing this or something i may as well maintag it #even if its just stream of consciousness rambling #adventure time #fionna and cake spoilers #atposting #basilposting #long post

[justalilhime]

Cw: (fictional) physical and emotional abuse

I find it so amusing that a lot of people when discussing YZY'a abuse of WWX either claim that it wasn't that bad (in fact, it was that bad, and it's even clearer in the lotus pod extra), that it was acceptable in that society's culture/is historically correct (ignoring the fact that the author is a modern person with modern values telling you through the text how fucked up that was and how in the text no one else exhibited the same behavior as her despite it being supposedly their right to; they had better morals and ethics than her) or that WWX was supposed to be singled out and endure the punishment because he was the Head Disciple and this is the point that really gets to me because... Why do people think YZY has any right to punish any disciple?

She forced her way into marrying JFM, then made it her personal mission to make everyone's lives hell with her entitlement and abuse (a side note: I do think most of JFM's passiveness and apathetic nature is actually a result of said abuse, a self-preservation mechanism of sorts, but that's both personal and topic for another post). YZY married into the clan and gave birth to two children, one of them the heir, but that's literally the only thing she does for YMJ. She rarely spends time at Lotus Pier, what little she spends there are unpleasant to everyone involved. Her vitriol poisoned JC against the values of his own clan, the one he's supposed to inherit, and made it impossible for JFM to even try to teach him (and I honestly commend him for still trying anyway, as seen post-Xuanwu incident). She disrespects the dead and drags their names as though they're trash — one of them being WCZ, who used to be a part of YMJ and (possibly) made good contributions to the clan, as he was let go peacefully. And, the most important of them, she rejects the title of Jiang-furen. She always goes by Yu-furen (a title that belongs to her older sister, not her; at best, by logic, if she was still in Meishan Yu, she'd be third madam Yu, instead of simply Yu-furen). While some may argue it's her way to fight patriarchy and show love for her natal clan, it's still downright insulting to the Jiang clan and her husband.

She chooses not to associate herself with them by name and behavior. She doesn't even share the same servants and lives in completely different quarters. But of course, despite all this, she still enjoys the power of being the madam of the Jiang clan. All because no one dares go against her, lest they become the next target of her hatred. That, too, is another form of her abuse. But she doesn't have the right to when she chooses to reject everything the Jiangs stand for.

So yeah, what she did to WWX was fucked up beyond imagination, because 1) he was a child, 2) it was abuse, and 3) she was using an authority and power she shouldn't have the right to after everything.

If you read this and come saying any "buts" I will block you, btw 😂 Unless you're a mutual, which we shall agree to disagree, but I won't discuss further if your opinion differs. I have no patience and no will to hear/read abuse apologism of any kind (again, for personal reasons). I just wanted to type out some thoughts. Thanks for reading I guess 😂

#anti yu ziyuan #can you tell I'm frustrated with fandom #because I am #YZY had nothing and deserved nothing #and still everyone hadto suffer because of her #I hate her #oh also #what the actual fuck is happening to the eng translation of volume 3 #YZY would kill someone for the audacity of removing her 'I hate you' to WWX #she didn't tell him to die for JC's sake for people to twist her words #thank goodness I'm not obligated to stick to seven seas #Brazilian translation is 10000% better #thank you very much

[peachymilkandcream]

Umm, how about Levi gun fucks her 😳

Levi x Evelyn -> Point Blank

(A/N: I'll be fully real I've never written something with this type of prompt before so I interpreted it in my own way as best I could and I hope you like the result! ^^)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, etc.

==========================================

Levi was in utter hell, he had injured himself just enough to be bed ridden but not enough to be seriously hurt. Lying in bed all day doing nothing but read and try and occupy his thoughts with something was starting to get to him.

It also didn't help he wasn't well enough to hold Evelyn down to have sex, and there's no way that she would willingly volunteer either. She took care of him and his wounded leg but never offered to suck on or ride his throbbing erections. Although he couldn't expect much more from his ungrateful wife who still chose to be stubborn against his love and affection.

At the moment she was downstairs trying to find him another blanket and he had just finished yet another book. Desperate for something more stimulating he rummaged through his bedside table drawer. Part of him was hoping to find a drink since he couldn't trust if Evelyn gave him one that it wasn't poisoned or was over given to make him sleep.

He wasn't expecting his fingers to brush over cold steel though, in confusion he took out the thing, staring at his reflection in the small pistol. With all the more important things like Marley and getting Evelyn pregnant he had forgotten about something that provided not a lot of protection. The fact still stood that it didn't offer much protection, but it could be a threat, and an effective one. Evelyn was afraid of death, which was the only reason she bent the little she did to his will. The gears in his head started to turn as he heard her come up the stairs.

============================================

Evelyn had her hands full carrying everything she needed up the stairs, Levi was a whining bitch when he wasn't feel well, demanding only she take care of him and wanting her to wait on him hand and foot. Part of her wanted to punch him in the leg, then see if he's still smirking.

When she walked into the room Levi was sitting up against the headboard, just as she had left him. He insisted on remaining naked under the covers, thinking that his painfully obvious erections would entice her to take care of them.

As she came to the side of the bed she chose to ignore the tent in the sheets even now. "Here's your extra pillows, crochet blanket, your extra slippers, and this morning's paper." Once she situated them she stood back. "Anything else?"

That damned smirk appears on his face again. "How about you take care of this..." He glances down at his twitching erection.

"In your dreams." Her tone is harsh, matter-of-fact.

Levi's jaw twitches, what it always does when he's annoyed. She wasn't expecting the sickening click of the pistol pointed at her. "I can't pin you down and take what I want so you have a choice to hop on my dick or get a few holes in you."

"Levi this is crazy-! Put that thing away!"

He shrugs. "Could be, but since you're not going about this willingly like a good wife should I have to take drastic measures. Now I suggest you get your ass over here and ride me, right now."

Evelyn contemplates her options, she could just run out the door but if he called for another servant they'd just bring her in and lock her there anyway. And all that would do is piss him off, he could subject her to a lot more than her just riding him. She wasn't sure if it was worth it to be rebellious if he was clearly desperate enough to do something so stupid.

Finally she steadies herself and slides off her clothes, earning a soft smile from him. "So you can be a good girl with the proper motivation." He kept the barrel trained on her, even as she peeled away the covers and straddled him.

She dreaded taking him in, it always hurt since he never waited until she was wet enough. "Is there something I can use to make it go in easier...? Please?"

Levi pauses before reaching into his drawer and pulling out a small tube of lube, she almost forgot he had it since he rarely used it. Going in dry was his form of punishment whenever she acted out.

Slicking up his cock took barely a minute, making it twitch every time she touched it. As she positioned herself above the head it took a couple tries for it to slip in, slowly letting herself down until he was in her completely. She hated that she clenched around him, her body enjoying being full even if it was full of him.

He tapped her thigh with the barrel. 'Move."

She had to use his arms for stabilizers, trying to ignore how it made the barrel point more and more at her. Her hips roll up and down, sloppy and unsure at first but eventually finding a rhythm. This was the first time she rode him like this, so going as fast as he normal could was impossible. Rocking her hips on him until he's grunting and that shit-eating grin is plastered all over his face.

The lube was smeared on this thighs by now, long since being replaced with her own arousal and she bounced up and down faster and faster. All she was focused on was making him cum as fast as possible so all of this could be over with. It didn't help that it felt good for her too. The feeling of being penetrated was pleasant, but he was so disgusting it often distracted her from actually finding release.

As he neared his climax his hips met hers, thrusting into her at a harder pace, eventually forcing her to stop all together and take it. Pounding away until he finally pushed her all the way down and came inside of her, it felt gross, it was gross. But nevertheless she took it until he was done, sliding off of him.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" He said, putting the gun away. "Go clean yourself up, I'll need you again in a few hours."

Evelyn crossed the distance from the bedroom to the on suite bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror. Sweaty, ragged, covered in filth.

She bent to turn on the bath, knowing it would cover up any sound as she picked up the birth control pill bottles hidden safely behind the toilet.

#attack on titan #break me slowly #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x oc #levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin #yandere levi #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi x reader #oneshot requests

[stardewnoodles]

And I shall lie here, betwixed by love and resolve, unsure which I am loyal to, or if either are even real. Teach me again how to be real.

I had so much fun with this one. Up now on AO3! Or read it below:

I

“You think Pico did it? He- no, you don’t talk! Shut the fuck up! You don’t scare me. Yous don’t know anything. By the time your “calvary” swooped in, he was finished cappin’ off Cass’s ass. Look at the tapes. Shit, look at the look on Pico’s face. He. Did. Not. Do. It. Cassandra did. She and her goons. She came in, spouted anarchist bullshit, and… why would anyone do that? And he’s the reason you even have a witness, period. Rest of us are dead, missin’, or hidin’ in the lockers you’re checkin’ in the school. Of course it sounds like I’m makin’ it up: an alien disguised as a goth shoots up a school, but as I been tellin’ you, I dunno what else to tell you, other than that. The truth. Go look in the gym. Body’s still warm. Pico saved my life and he saved Nene’s and whoever he could. That bastard did more than your entire pig force could in the same fuckin’ situation. You will give him the time alone he deserves. You will not walk to your ‘media buds’ and tell this city that my best friend is a murderer. He ain’t the hero you want, but he is one.”

“Nice little speech, brat. Look, I want to believe you as much as the last guy, but there’s one issue with your story. I don’t blame you for distrusting us-“

“Cut the shit. Don’t give me your fake ass pity.”

“Okay. Okay. The bullets we’re finding in most of the… school children… the fingerprints match the people you say caused this.”

“Oh, so for once you’re doing your job?”

“BUT there’s a small issue with your story. The alien bit makes no sense.”

“Check again, dumbass! It’s there! It’s-“


“There is no body, Darnell. Just a pool of blood dragged out to the playground and a leg. Oh please, don’t look like you’ve seen a ghost, no one could’ve survived that much blood loss.”

“…What?”

II

It’s a windy summer evening, making it impossible for the lighter to hold a flame for longer than a second. Pico keeps trying to make it last anyway, even as the wind seeps through the fissures in his cupped hand and blows out the light. He nibbles on the cigarette in his mouth, frustration building. The wind practically spits at the bags under his eyes; the sting of rejection by nature hurts as much as people’s do. Too tired, yet not tired enough, to give up. Pico lifts his eyes off the floor. The city doesn’t look like such a dump at night from a high rise balcony. God willing, it’s the perfect place to get shot at while witnessing the light show. The wind would be too harsh to the trajectory of the bullet, they’d need to account for that as he stands there, waiting with open arms. Nothing happens. Pico spits out the cigarette and watches it fall into the dark abyss below. A bad fog is rolling in, so death can’t see him now. His sweater threatens to rip off his body the way the wind is eager to please him, caressing his waist. With Darnell on his way—he texts this, and it could mean anywhere from five minutes to an hour, because that fucker loves to walk home—Pico falls into the restless delusion that this is a message from Darnell. Fate is bullshit. It serves as someone else’s means to an end that a servant of fate blindly follows. On his worst days, he can’t help but see its appeal. Pico blows a kiss to the wind and begs for it to fly off to Darnell. Only fate can be the reason they share this luxurious room. Darnell is a pyro fanatic who happens to be his best friend since childhood. It’s the classic tale of young love. These are one of the days where Pico looks to the city, outstretches his hand, and ponders.

“Darnie,” Pico whispers. “You wouldn’t love me if we weren’t in this together, would you? A freak accident made you step away from college, that’s all, before we met up again. How could you.” The wind howls and laughs at the man deserving of such. “I wonder a lot, uh, you know, if I stole your future from you. You could’ve been the next Oppy, heh. No. No, what am I saying.” Pico rubs his temples, then his eyes, groaning. If his brain is an office, then all the employees have left and the lights are turning off, one by one. “We both know why you’re not with those freaks. Still…” Life could be kinder to his one and only than this. At the cost of stealing the life of another man, Pico lives in a luxury he dreamt of as a kid. The kitchen has a marble-slated counter with a built-in microwave on the side. The refrigerator is behind an ivory wood door and a bronze handle. The bed is a king sized for two, draped with a blue velvet blanket and a thick comforter to make it easier to fall into the clutches of sleep. Each room is a different color. In the main room, the walls are a dark green. In the bedroom, it’s wallpaper of a boat sailing across the ocean, unsure of its destination, but traveling forth all the same. The brown couch is a perfect excuse for a second bed with how soft its fabric and pillows are. That’s not even the best part. The 4K TV hangs on a brick wall that has a gas fireplace built underneath it. The wooden floor is a standard light brown oak series of planks, but the rug in front of the couch is majestic: a handmade rug based off of Pico’s favorite show of all time, Invader Zim. A priceless investment.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glances at the many weapons strung along the ground. Two out of the four are in dire need of repair This apartment room is one of many safe houses scattered across Newgrounds, paid for in full by the blood and tears of his kills. Vigilante is too nice of a word. A vigilante is supposed to be a hero in some way, shape, or form. Pico is no symbol of hope; he’s the reason windows have locks and figures in power, lurking in the shadows, have twenty men instead of five by their side. There is no side, usually. It’s the money that counts. He’s a bounty hunter, plain and simple, who rarely refuses an offer. A person who blends in with the crowd seamlessly, able to hook Newgrounds like a fish to bait. Despite this, he is simultaneously the very person they never want to meet in their entire life. It turns his gut into a Fruit Roll-up, but he must admit (oh yes, Pico licks his lips to it), the initial shock, the realization, it never gets old. He has to keep it fresh, or else it’s too boring. Raw human emotion is on the same level of eating strawberries the first day he buys them. They are succulent, ripe, and oh so juicy in a way that sticks with him until the next batch. It’s so fresh it gives his mouth an orgasm as it runs down the corner of his lips. Pico taps a finger against the railing. The taste is slightly different, batch after batch. Similarly, no one person evokes the same response to a topic. How delicious. Sophomore high school literature said that, at least. Pico steps back inside and closes the sliding door. The roar of the wind is forgotten by the soothing crackle of false embers.

A whisper comes from the gas. Pico gets close to the fire, cocking his head at the heat brushing against his face. The allure is still there in the form of the frustrated dance of the flames, anger begging to be unleashed. A faint outcry can be heard the longer Pico stares at the fireplace. Something calling to him with such bitterness, the flames may as well be spitting in his face. There are enough people to count on one hand who he’s heard with such hatred. He cautiously reaches out to it. The fire suddenly bursts with new life and swipes Pico’s right hand away. A hundred microscopic bullets tear through the inside of his flesh. His eyes widen in shock when he looks at his hand. The heat, which was meant to be cool at all times, was hot enough to add another battle scar to the collection in a mere second. Pico licks his dry lips. Hot as hellfire.

“Shit!” An issue with the gas? A warning? What else could it be? Pico shuts it off quickly and kisses the new burn mark on his hand. It’s right next to the other hand he sustained over two years ago when Cassandra… “Everything fucking breaks that I touch!” Pico shouts at himself, pissed off, embarrassed. Static sets in. It’s so loud in his head, blaring like the theater, but he can’t leave, he’s glued to the floor.

A rap at the door echoes inside the room. Pico draws the uzi strapped to his waist, ignoring the sharp pain running up his right hand, then up his arm. The safety flicks off easily. The fire dies down, its noise in his head replaced by the roaring static and the drumming beat of his heart. The average draw time of a lousy shooter is one and a half seconds. A better one, maybe a second. The best, six tenths of a second. Taking into account the fact that this is a safe house and he knows nobody else here, he has to assume they’re good at their craft. He either shoots the moment their gun crosses the safety of the hallway or dies. No, he has no idea who it is, he can’t shoot immediately. A shadow blocks light from crawling under the door. Keys jangle as the intruder figures out which one to use. Pico squints. Any second now, and then the noise will stop. Any second now, and he’ll have to worry about buying 5 gallons of bleach. Any second now—

“God damn it, which one of these damn things is it?!” An irritated voice hisses from the other side of the door, just as the lock turns and the door swings open. The static dissipates. Pico lowers his uzi, clutching at his head. Stupid fucking faggot , he grits his teeth, cursing at himself. Look at you . “Peeks? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, or a demon, or some crazy type shit. You good?” Darnell’s wearing his white sweater and jeans today instead of a flaunting hoodie to blend in more with the crowd. He’s been trying new styles lately, this time with a touch of black lipstick he smacks his lips on. His hair has been cut down from a tall flattop to box braids reaching his neck. He got the haircut last week, and it still leaves Pico in awe. He’s gorgeous, divine, raw. “You’re wearing my hoodie again.” Pico clicks the safety on and straps the uzi back to his waist. He takes off his gun belt and tosses it onto the couch.

“Is there a problem with it?” Pico sighs deeply. He tugs at Darnell’s purple and yellow hoodie. It smells like him. It’s soft like him. “Thought you were someone else. You didn’t knock five times, just twice.”

“Oh, I was supposed to- oh shit, I was. I’m sorry man, I totally forgot. '' In his hands, Darnell has two black plastic bags that he grips tightly. They’re lightly covered in rain drops, a sign of the coming storm looming over Newgrounds. Pico looks out the window. Bleak clouds steal the sunlight and use it for their own machinations, absorbing each other like an amoeba. As if on queue, thunder rumbles in the distance. Darnell drops the bags and kneels down to inspect Pico’s hand. Darnell’s face distorts, as if he cannot believe what he’s seeing. He blinks a few times, making sure it isn’t a hallucination engraved on Pico’s hand. Darnell inhales and exhales sharply. “Fail at cookin’ again?” He says with a weak smile.

“No, no the uh… the fireplace.” Pico raises a brow at Darnell, but Darnell doesn’t leave him time to counter with his own question.

“That shouldn’t cause a burn. It ain’t real one in the first place. The gas is only hot enough to keep the cold out of this place. Yeah, that’s hot, but not hot enough to do that.”

“I know, but it did. It lunged at me like it had a bone to pick with me. Really fucking weird. It felt like being bitten. Reminded me of…” A lump gets stuck in Pico’s throat. The word cannot properly form and be uttered, even after all this time. What a coward he was. “You know…”

“She’s, uh,” Darnell pauses, biting his lower lip. He clears his throat. “She’s dead, dude, and last I checked the only person who could maybe revive the dead is busy rearrangin’ your ex’s guts and on our side. I’m sure it’s just a fault with the gas line. I’ll call about it tomorrow.” Darnell squeezes Pico’s hand affectionately before letting go. “Weird burn tat, though.” Part of the training Pico’s father made him endure was the reading of emotions through tonal shifts and a person’s eyes. Slight twitches and awkward shuffles reveal truths that were meant to stay buried. Pico can dig them up, and Darnell, here in the room with him, looks at his hand with fear.

“Huh?” Pico hasn’t been paying attention. Earlier it was too red to make out, but now that it’s settled, he can’t rub out of his eyes what he sees. It’s real. A fiery, distorted, inverted cross. Pico shudders. “Darnie! You don’t find that crazy?! Not at all?! Are you nuts?!” Pico whispers, venom in his tone, afraid of speaking out loud in case the tiny ignition flame that burns day in and day out is listening. Darnell jumps. He rubs his lips with a finger; he does it whenever he’s lost in deep thought, pondering the unknown.

“I’m out there, small time inventor with some fireworks on the side, not a D&D Necromancer. Ain’t nobody but the Dearest fam is, and they’re literal demons. Peeks.” Darnell urges his lover to think about anything else in the known universe. Pico chuckles at Darnell. Small time inventor is one way to describe a pyromaniac. He knows no harm can come to him when said pyromaniac is in the room with him, but he can’t rip his gaze away from the imprint on his hand. Maybe… maybe… maybe? Pico shakes his head. “Well,” Darnell claps his hands together. It brings Pico back to reality. “I did buy some new gloves for your motorcycle ‘cause you whined about it every day to me for the last two weeks. You wanna try them on?” Darnell eases out of the topic while rubbing Pico’s back and sits down with him. He presses the tip of his fingers against the aching muscles in his back. Pico forces down the rising whines of affection.

“Yeah. Yeah.” Pico nods to make his decision clear. Darnell takes the fingerless gloves out of the first bag. They’re purple and the same striking shade as Darnell’s hoodie. It’s a thick material with velcro straps. He puts them on with the help of Darnell, who slowly slides them onto his boyfriend’s hands. As Pico tightens the strap, Darnell rubs a thumb against Pico’s palm. The ginger’s cheeks paint themselves pink.

“Shit’s fire with the hoodie.” Darnell kisses Pico’s glove, looking into Pico’s eyes as if he is royalty. A chill spreads through his veins the moment after Darnell made contact with the glove, taming the wildfire in his hand. The heat travels elsewhere. Pico’s face turns red as a pepper. “I been doin’ the wrong thing, not lettin’ you wear my favorite hoodie more often. You sho seem to love it.”

“Shut up.” Pico says with a wide smile. He balls his hands into a fist. The pain is gone. “Thanks. Really, thanks.” He debates making out with Darnell, exploring the feel of the gloves against Darnell’s hairy chest. He decides against it; now isn’t the time, as much as his body screams at the slightest signs of affection. “What else you get?” Pico turns his attention back to the windows. Thunder booms outside the apartment building. Lightning flickers in the distance—nature’s alarm has been set off. Pico counts the seconds between each strike. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Another clap of thunder. One, two, three, four, five. Thunder rumbles the building and lightning touches down like an SOS, a call to get inside and stay inside. He turns back to Darnell, who’s holding two matching motorcycle helmets. Streaks of black lightning decorate the top, with an explosion of different shades of purple, like fireworks molding into each other, covering the rest. The visor, with its sleek black shade, blocks out UV rays from the sun to make driving easier. Pico notices how easy it is to see the inside of the helmet despite this. Another thing he notices: they are the perfect size for Pico and Darnell, respectively. Finally, the cushioned interior makes it wear for long periods of time without causing the annoying throbbing Pico is used to. It’s meant for Pico, no one else. It’s perfect. The craftsmanship could’ve only been done by one person in the whole world. “Darnie, you made these?” Pico asks, despite knowing the answer. Darnell gives a devilish grin. Pico wipes the grin off his face with a kiss to the lips, leaning over to roughly press against his. Darnell gingerly sets down his helmet before wrapping Pico in a bear hug. Darnell smells of ash and weed; it’s pungent, leaving the ginger dazed. He allows his body to sag into his lover’s arms, who tugs at his hoodie to brush a finger against Pico’s back. Kisses meet the freckles on Pico’s cheeks to form a constellation out of black lipstick. The longer Darnell goes at it, the more it smears, the less Pico can hang onto reality. It’s messy, how they like it, with tongues clashing and lips dragging. Darnell presses back harder. Pico’s eyes roll back. He is afraid to lose his grip, fall endlessly into the abyss, but Darnell’s hand interlocks with his gloved one and keeps him afloat. Their passion drowns out the rolling thunder. Pico opens one eye to look at Darnell. His eyes are fluttering, with sparks exploding inside of them. He’s still grinning. He’s in love, somehow, and Pico wishes he knew why. Darnell runs a finger up Pico’s back, but Pico wants to shy away from Darnell. Stop, stop! His brain shuts off, hurls itself into the void. He wipes saliva off of his mouth.

“Peeks? You drawlin’ again? Did I do something wrong?” Pico stares at the floor to try and escape. He opens his mouth, then closes it. He opens it again, this time forcing out the question looming over him like his shadow.

“Why do you love me? What… What the hell is there to love? We’re five months into this and I still can’t… I don’t get it. Fuck, man.” Darnell furrows his brows. He thrusts Pico’s helmet into his chest. “The fu-“

“Get it on. We’re goin’ out.” Darnell ruffles Pico’s hair and stands up, grabbing his coat by the door. He’s quick to move, agitated, hastily foraging the drawer by the door for the motorcycle keys.

“Going out? That storm’s going to wreck through here in, like, ten minutes! It’s gonna be shit!”

“Better bring a raincoat then so ya don’t ruin my hoodie. Trust me.” Darnell is calm, assuring. Pico’s soul flutters, warming his body. Pico does. Pico does with his heart and every drop of blood pumping through it. The worries fade. His heart blossoms.

“Bet.” Where Darnell goes, Pico follows, and so he follows.

III

Nene was quick to flee the graduation party scene and find a wall to lean on and a cigarette to smoke down to a stub. No one had been to class since the massacre, but rules were rules, and a ceremony had to be held for the remaining graduating class. “To safeguard their future endeavors and commemorate their resilience,” the Dean of Students stated in an interview the next day. Pico never showed up. His diploma was mailed to the current house his father lived at, since his mother had passed a year prior. Darnell clutches his heart. He’s ashamed to admit he hoped for this outcome. Nene hears Darnell’s footsteps before he sees her. When he rounds the corner to greet her, her cigarette is ready to melt his eyeball.

“Fuckin’ A, woman!” Nene giggles and goes back to dragging on the cigarette. They stand in silence, watching crows circle the school’s leftover property, as if there’s still blood to be found.

“We’re not going to college.” Nene states it as a fact, not a question, and even though Darnell shrugs, he knows she’s right. “Not like we planned on it in the first place. We’re maniacs, the three of us, destined for greater things.”

“Does that destiny include this shit?” Nene looks away, twirling the cigarette, making the smoke dance for her amusement. The risk of burning herself is alluring.

“I’m just saying. I’ve managed to get to Pico over the phone. He’s thinking about continuing what his father thought about starting after his wartime. Sounds like a hell of a time. I may join in.” Darnell stares at her, dumbfounded. Nene flicks the cigarette into the sewage vent by her feet, blowing ash off her hand. “Bounty Hunting. Does he tell you nothing? You’re supposed to be his BFF: Bro’s Faggot Forever.” Darnell rolls his eyes. “You should laugh or I’ll burn off your hair.”

“Haha.” Darnell retorts in a deadpan voice. He rubs his arm nervously. Being a mercenary sounds exactly as Nene put it, a hell of a time. They’d be able to make a load of money off of it. Even if the massacre didn’t happen, all three are adept in methods of killing. Cutting loose after all of this sounds like the best thing to do. Darnell weighs his options. The real world is a boring repetition of waking up for a job you hate and a life you wish you never had. Most people, on average, only achieve happiness in their 40s, unless they have rich parents. Darnell shakes his head. He takes this, he can skip more than twenty wasted years of his life.

Pico will be kept in his sights.

“I ain’t feelin’ good about this.” Darnell lies. Nene punches him in the arm.

“Mhm, don’t be such a pussy. Hey, didn’t you want to talk to me about something?” She asks while playing with spit in her mouth. A shiver runs up Darnell’s spine. He slowly nods.

“They never found Cassandra’s body, only a body part .” Nene chokes on her spit, doubles over, lungs clawing at her trachea. “I can’t tell Pico this, but you-”

“That bitch! She could still be out there! We gotta get her! We got to grind that bitch to dust! Then burn the dust!”

“Sssshhhh!” Darnell covers Nene’s mouth. She glares at him and licks his hand. He recoils back, wiping the saliva off on his graduation gown. “Fuckin’ gross. There’s no way she’s alive. They say the blood left behind is enough to be fatal.”

“Cops will say anything, Darnell, you should know this.” Nene drops her head. “I get why you want to believe it. What a fucking joke. All the shit Pico did for nothing, then.” Darnell wraps an arm around Nene’s shoulder, pulling her close. She pleads to whatever higher power may exist that they aren’t plotting the worst joke of the 21st century. “If anything happens, he’ll shoot you in the face for not telling him before storming off after her.” Darnell frowns. He’s motionless, but not like a statue. Rather, he acts like pudding.

“If he finds out, I don’t think he’ll recover. Nene, we have to see how this plays out. We have to act clueless. I can’t lose him, too. I miss our third musketeer. I want him to live. I want him to smile again.”

IV

Pico’s beaming smile reveals his missing tooth. It brings life to Darnell, and Darnell has to wipe a tear from his eye after he takes his helmet off. No, it can’t be. Darnell never cries, everyone knows that. Pico parks the motorcycle under the giant tree overlooking Newgrounds. Pico doesn’t pester. Surely, he thinks, it’s one of the many raindrops coming down. They run for cover under a garden dome that is closer to the cliff’s edge. They hop over the CAUTION railing and dash into the old rusty dome. They’re careful not to trample over daisies surrounding the stairs. It was made out of metal and silver, a gift to the first mayor of Newgrounds when the town was founded over a century ago. It’s seen three reconstructions in one hundred years, stripping it of rust and remodeling it to the image the founders intended. Regardless, rust and age return without fail. Another remodeling will soon be planned to hide its age, but it will be unmasked again in the future, and the cycle will repeat itself. Their helmets are placed on the soaked metal bench. The design is so bright, he wonders if it can be seen from Newgrounds. Darnell sits down, catching his breath, shivering at the water sticking to his butt. Pico cups his hands and shouts. Raindrops drip from their clothing like a leaking faucet. The dome gives the impression of a circular waterfall coming down from heaven, minus a small clearing that gives the perfect view of Newgrounds thanks to a protruding metal arrow that points north.

“WOOOO!” It comes back from the city, the trees, the sky, the stars, here on the cliffside. Pico’s pale eyes glow yellow as he stares at Newgrounds from afar. From here, the city is a petite Christmas decoration. Its lights illuminate the darkness in his mind and form twisted shadows in places he’d never think to look. Pine trees swaying in the wind give barely any protection from the downpour, but the taste of their sap reaches the lover’s tongues. The damp ground exposes the earth’s scent to civilization once again. Mud, grass, flowers, pinecones, all work in tandem to bring Pico to a calm state of mind. The rain is too loud to tear his thoughts from Darnell. Darnell, the fire that ignites passion, the only flame he’d reach out and risk holding close. “I can’t believe I’ve never been here!” Pico shouts over the torrential rain.

“Now you have, bozo! Ain’t it cool?!”

“Fuck yes!” Pico twirls around, taking in the sights and smells. He trips on his own foot and falls into Darnell’s arms, who reacts quickly enough to stand up and catch him. The raindrops cannot hide his blush. He brushes the water off of Darnell’s face with his gloves. His cheeks, Pico notes, warm his hands underneath the fabric. The fire in his eyes keeps his body warm.

“You asked why I love ya.” Darnell snakes his arms around Pico’s chest. Pico can barely keep his breathing steady once Darnell locks his hands together, trapping Pico. Each word pouring out of Darnell’s mouth, down to the syllable, rubs on his lips like a kiss. The ruthless bounty hunter crumbles and burns when Darnell plants a kiss on his forehead, which he can feel even after his lips depart. Pico whines, submits himself. He dares not touch it, fearing the black lipstick would then run down his face and ruin such a gift. The rain patters above, muffled by Darnell’s words. “I be seein’ an answer written on your face. Should look in the mirror more and see the man I’m seein’.” Another kiss. The two lingering kisses massage his mind. Pico’s breathing becomes erratic. “You’ve never been, and never will be, Cass’ mutt. She’s not who you are. You’re the one who ran on hellfire and came back swingin’. You’ve grown so much. And her?” Darnell lets out a heavy sigh. He looks away from Pico momentarily, then focuses his gaze back on him to keep him entranced. Receiving any sort of acknowledgement hits Pico where it hurts–the heart. He fights back tears, lips quivering. “Got all the qualities I love, too. Total bitch who never stops for nobody. Tough. Strong. Cute.”

“My father would be disappointed.” Pico mumbles with bright red cheeks. Darnell shakes his head.

“Tsk, tsk. We don’t care what he thinks in this house. I had no idea where to go, or who to trust, and you took my hand anyway like we never stopped seein’ each other. Saved me about as many times as I saved you. Ain’t nobody able to keep up with me but you. That’s besides the point. Look, Pico, you could be none of these things, you could still be that damned nerdy runt with glasses and braces who decided to book it to college, and I’d still sneak into your dorm and count stars on your face.”

“Why?”

“When I say I love you, I mean I love you . Not the bullshit you think you need to be. You .” The knot keeping Pico calm, collected, unwavering, snaps. You–the sharpened word was strong enough to cut deep into his soul. His duel against his pent up emotions has at last ended. Pico lets go of Darnell, slumps down to the ground, fists clenched. He trembles, and it isn’t from the cold. It begins to rain inside the garden dome.

“Me.” Pico chokes on the word as tears fall. Darnell sits back down, this time on the metallic floor, with his legs outstretched. He pats his thigh and softly smiles at Pico, who understands immediately what is being offered, and crawls over like a sick dog and lays his head on Darnell’s lap. “Darnie…”

“It’s all good. No one’s gonna hear you here.” The haunting flames Darnell sought to push back are quenched. Pico twitches in his grasp. His assurance washes over Pico, who curls up and bawls like a child. Not a soul is able to hear his cries over the fury of the rain except his boyfriend.

#fnf pico #picos school #friday night funkin #pico newgrounds #pico x darnell #fnf darnell #darnell newgrounds #your honor they are really gay

[envihellbender]

Hunt!Sebastian paying John a visit

Characters: Sebastian Moran, John Sims

Verse: The Magnus Archives, TMA AU of Sebastian Moran / Moriarty (MorMor)

[CLICK]

THE ARCHIVIST

[HE SOUNDS A LITTLE SHAKEN, AS IF HE IS PACING UP AND DOWN AS HE IS TALKING.]

I found a tape on my desk. I have checked and double checked with security and with the CCTV coming into the building and everyone coming in or out of the building is accounted for. Was it posted here? It wasn’t in an envelope or anything. Maybe Ma- someone thought they were being helpful. But he- they wouldn’t open my mail, would they? Anyway. Here it is. Statement of Sebastian Moran. Regarding how he met James Moriarty.

[CLICK]

SEBASTIAN MORAN

I found one of your little tape recorders, Archivist, so thought I’d give you something to listen to. You know me. Basher Moran. Moriarty’s Tiger. The most feared sniper in Europe. Prince of London’s Underworld. That one is weird I think, if Moriarty’s the king, that would make me his son? Anyway. Yeah. It’s me, and I hear you’ve been tracking down me and Jimmy, listening to all our victim’s statements and all that. So I thought I’d give you something straight from the tiger’s mouth. There have been quite a few stories about how I met my Jimmy. Urban legends really. Is this one of them or is this a lie just to get under your skin? Only you’ll be able to tell, right Archivist?

Let’s quickly skip through the really boring stuff. Yeah, yeah, son of Augustus Moran and a servant he knocked up in his house in India. He actually had quite a few bastards you know, for some reason he took a shine to me and that’s not the compliment you think it is. He was a faggot, pretended not to be, and whether I killed the fat cunt or not is a little secret you already know the answer to, Archivist. Anyway, I’m the best shot you’ll ever find. Spent most of my teens at a shooting range and didn’t get sped through the army ranks cause of my surname. When your as brown as me and your dad dun’t wanna talk about you a name as common as Moran don’t help. So. I get quietly discharged cause if a nasty event that don’t have anything to do with this story, but you need to picture me as being out Army in my twenties and making a comfortable living selling my services. With a gun, by the way, not my dick sucking lips.

The thing about sniping, is it’s mostly waiting. You set yourself up somewhere high up and out of sight, if you’re good at it you can be low down and no one will find you. Sometimes it’s just you, snacks, drinks, your headphones, and that spare empty bottle you brought to piss in. Audiobooks are great for that. I got through all Chuck Palahniuk’s stories that way. Anyway. Got distracted. So. Most people assume Jimmy hired me, and nah, course he didn’t. He doesn’t do anything like a normal person. First, it was messages in my phone. A text message from a number that didn’t exist and any time I tried to call it instead all I got was a loud screeching noise. The text itself was just a set of coordinates and a time. I decided to ignore it, and five minutes after the deadline, I got left a voicemail without my phone ever had been rung. Weirdest thing about that? It was my voice.

Yeah. Apparently I had rang myself and left a message threatening me about what I would do to my eyeballs if I didn’t pay attention to the next text message. So that was fucking weird. But message received. The next time I got some coordinates I went straight there. First ones led me to a tube station. And when I looked at the train times screen, there was a message for me instead. No one else seemed to see it. But I swear to God it said “Moran. Go to the payphone I’ve marked.” Which is fucking annoying. God damn treasure trail without the treasure. Anyway, so I found it, and clever fuck had written “hi” with a heart drawn on it. Fucking fag. So when I got to it, it started ringing. I answered it and this soft lilting voice was in the other end.

He gave me a job. A good job. With a lot of money. And I said yeah, even though I asked why he didn’t just tell me instead that of playing some stupid game. He giggled and said it was fun. Now I get it. That’s just how he works. When you’re running around anxious and confused he’s feeding off you. That’s just a small way he gets a quick snack. So we went on like this for a while, giving me job after job. I got a bit sick of it, and whilst yeah the Web is really fucking powerful. But. Well, I’m the Hunt. And finding shit is what I do.

So I laid low for a while and between and during jobs I started tracking down my Jimmy. He knew, kept making jokes about how close I was. Maybe he thought I wouldn’t make it to him, maybe he wanted me to, or maybe he didn’t care. Honestly, Jimmy might not even know. Maybe he didn’t think about it. But. Eventually I found myself just outside of this big fancy flat building. One of the types in zone one where the front is fancy as fuck and the back is meeting the quota for affordable housing. I don’t care, if they live in the shithole they can’t pay me. I took the lift up to the top floor. The huge, massive, modern screen door greeted me when I got out. He has a penthouse you see, and the dramatic fuck has a spider web pattern all over it.

I was planning on being subtle, but the moment I got to the top floor, I heard a lilting giggle. I looked up to see a camera pointed directly at me. He didn’t say a word, just ended up with a click to show the door was open. I walked in. His house is pretty great but I’m not gonna tell you shit that might lead you to him. You know what’s funny? I hate spiders. I hate them. I hate them so much of course I noticed their was a lot hanging around my flat since this started. But I didn’t think they had anything to do with Jimmy. His penthouse though? Let’s just say he’s gone all out on the theme.

Anyway. I mostly came here to kill time because gotta shoot one of your librarians. Just some dickhead who stuck his nose where he shouldn’t. By the time you hear this, you might wanna make sure someone goes up to clean up. I knew this would be a great way to distract you. Once the statement started you wouldn’t be able to put it down. Hope you enjoyed my story, mate. There’s plenty more where that came from. My Jimmy? He’ll be in touch.

THE ARCHIVIST

[CLICK. HE SIGHS.]

Statement ends. Carson Throw was found with a very clean gunshot wound through his temples. The bullet was found lodged into a book about spider webs. Hardly subtle. There wasn’t much of a mess. Carson was very wrapped up in jobs for James Moriarty, nothing special just owed him a lot of money from card games and he was slowly trying to work off. It seems Carson tried to get out before his debt had been paid. As for what Moran and Moriarty want with me… Only time will tell.

[CLICK.]

#envi writes #the Magnus archives #tma au #Sebastian Moran #John sims

[elveneye]

``I know now fragility.``

-

You would think for a character that has basically become my profile mascot, I would draw him a lot - but alas art block is constantly swinging a bat at my head. 👍

This is my version of Dagri'Lon from Interesting NPCs! Despite being a super follower there's not a lot of content on him (I understand. He's a pain in the ass.) so here's some recognition for this edgelord.

[More info under "Keep Reading"!]

Sorry if I say anything that makes no sense up ahead my english is running low on fuel today …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

You could say this version of him is an AU, because I changed aspects of him that just wouldn't be anything like the real Dagri'Lon you get me? Dagri is supposed to be a serious character but I sort of picked him up like "You're my friend now, we're having soft tacos later :)"

It's very funny having this ancient dude who's body is in a vortex of slowed time and is no doubt tormented by that tag along with the Dragonborn that is only alive by sheer luck. Oh and also Inigo. And they're brother and sister. I don't know how one survives hanging out with siblings who start throwing shit at each other when bored (as siblings do).

Anyways about his design!!! I knew I could improve his original outfit somehow, so I took a couple of mods, jumbled them up together aaand created something, I guess! So it's not really my design I just sort of played dress up with him LMFAOA

I do feel like I could've given him armour that's more... the best I could describe is, grim reaper-y? Like some kickass black robe - but I couldn't find anything at the time, so I just stuck with Contractor armor. It does improve stealth, though!

But no matter what I absolutely HAD to have a hood to highlight the fact he's got no head. I mean that's like the focal point of his design, his non existent head. I'm too lazy to write the entire story of how he lost it but the way I remember it (and this I couldn't find on the internet I had to listen to him repeat it in the game) was he had these 3 servants that had to guard his body during the transfer which I assume was him trying to become immortal. One of them, never specified which, was like ay fuck you guys and sort of nuked the entire transfer, killing everyone in the process except for Dagri'Lon, who's soul was now in the void and his body in slo-mo. He also says there was a dagger in his neck which he just throws in randomly? And it took him about 300 years or more to even conjure up movement. TWO ENTIRE CENTURIES LATER his body is just, still in slow motion. And his fate has lead him to be the side kick of a Khajiit woman who jumps head first into traps and cries whenever she has to count.

Oh and the horns are purely accessories. Just thought they looked cool.

"If he's headless, why the eyes and teeth?" Well here comes the part where I intervene! If I'm being honest I was like "Yeah this just looks cool lol" but I made up a reason so now I have an excuse to draw him like this.

The eyes and teeth aren't real, they're purely just an illusion spell. If you tried sticking your hand under his hood (good luck) it would just phase through. But it's not a permanent spell, so if he forgets to recast it, well you can see in the drawing what happens. It doesn't hurt him or anything, it's like some sort of ectoplasm breaking down, which now makes this drawing funny because it would be the equivalent of not blowing your nose in a while and snot shooting out when you sneeze. If this doesn't make sense in the Elder Scrolls world I can't think of a better reason sorry 💔

There's more little details that I changed about him... Like he doesn't hate absolutely EVERYTHING that isn't decay (he likes hares. really likes hares), not as Gary Stu as he is ( I like to think that whenever he makes some sort of egocentric comment some Looney Tunes type of shit happens like he immediately gets sent flying by a trap) and most important of all HE'S NOT BAREFOOT !!!

I only now remembered to mention this but he's a mage who, If I had friendly fire on, would end up vaporising me every other fight. I've never seen worse aiming in my life.

-

If you've made it this far, thank you very much for reading. This is like the first time I've publicly just info dumped about an interest lol.

If you've got any questions about him send em my way in the asks!

#the elder scrolls skyrim #skyrim #digital art #art #tes v skyrim #skyrim mods #skyrim followers #3dnpcs #interesting npcs #dagri'lon #tes v #elvendrawz

[weebsinstash]

Not really sure what genre music you like, but honestly Cannibal by Neathan Apollo makes for a good Val x defiantReader song, recommend it as a listen :>

I've always had a weird relationship with music because I kind of grew up online so a lot of music tastes have been stumbled onto. Like unironically I love the music meme megamixes that switch tracks every few seconds or kind of joke around with certain chord progressions, or they like, mash-up video game music with popular artists.

Before we move on to some of my ideas, this song, right! It can almost apply to either Reader OR Val if you think about it, because from a toxic narcissists perspective Valentino may also consider you to be a sort of little manipulator capable of pulling his strings, but the line that jumps out at me is

"Time for my confession

You're toxic but infectious

You feed off my attention

Well? Starve"

I constantly think about, like, if Reader is just, someone who at least tries to be a nice person if it isn't as natural. And maybe Val gets a little too cozy and comfortable with how polite and sweet you are, running little errands for him, bringing him food and drinks when he asks, seeming to listen closely with interest and dedication when he speaks, and one day he fucks up. Maybe he's been teasing you yet it's nothing too awful but one day he mocks you in front of others about something you're insecure about and he can just see the shift in your expression, and from then on you're like night and day. You quietly set his drinks down and walk away instead of making eye contact and smiling and asking if he wants anything else. He texts you to fetch him something, and someone else brings it in your stead (maybe you even outright paid them because you didn't want to see the Overlord THAT bad)

One of those real "didn't know what you had until it was gone" kind of scenarios where maybe he starts getting pissy because he tells himself you're just having an awful attitude or being an ungrateful brat for no reason and he has no idea "what he did". I imagine he wouldn't take it very well. I can see him trying to crack a joke or make a comment that normally would have at least made you fake laugh and you just glance at him, say nothing, and look back to your phone, gritting his teeth before asking you what your fucking problem is, making it confrontational, and any further sass you display counts against you. The real salt in his wounds is if he catches you being nice and doing things for someone else that you used to do for him, because then he's getting fucking jealous and possessive and god forbid if you're trying to date someone during this time period, they will go missing, Val doesn't really want you dating anyone period anyways. Even if he is so much as keeping you as a groupie or a servant, you're still "his" and he doesn't like to share without some incentive

((As a side note can I piss and moan that tumblr made some sort of adjustment again and now I can't put anything in italics or bold without it doing it to the entire paragraph because it is so fucking annoying, why is it doing this???? Is it this new phone? I use italics a lot in my writing and this is so fucking obnoxious 😩 i basically can't use italics or bold anymore AT ALL without redoing it over and over and over and at some point i just give up)

But moving on to my suggestions, as someone who likes to get stoned and listen to music while I do my not-actually-writing writing-adjacent daydreaming, I've kind of found few songs that I think of stories for? Actually I found a really good one literally within the last I think two days? I was listening to Just A Waste by PinkPantheress and realized it fits a lot of the concepts and ideas I've had for a hazbin based Reader, while also having a very funky synthy vibe like the time period Valentino is from

How'd it ever get so wrong? Crying on the floor of a washroom stall (working at the club as a waitress only being able to really cry in the bathroom)

You don't know where I'm from, Don't know how I got here but I'm all alone (self explanatory and also works for ideas for a Reader who doesn't know how they died)

I've been waking up as lonely as I did before (works for a Reader who was depressed n shit before death)

A line from the second verse hits harder with "I never asked to be driven away in a foreign car, 'cause the bus will take me just as long, and now I gotta sleep with the lights still on now" like, this is peak, it fits so well. You took his help because you were scared and vulnerable but you really didn't have a choice in context, being freshly dead and alone and confused and panicking, and he was just RIGHT THERE, but after you're in his clutches you realize how dangerous and foolish it was and how maybe risking it on your own would have been as equally unsafe

I also tend to have just. Plotless "Reader getting frustrated and singing" sort of ideas which fits into, the vibe of Hazbin, they do just kind of break out into song, it's a cartoon, but also who doesn't vibe out to music and think of someone belting out to it? So sometimes I also think of the ever so elusive Male Reader, maybe you're kinda on the downlow, making yourself kind of boring and uninteresting because why would you try to stand out when your boss is a horny pansexual sex trafficker, and eventually enough little jabs and comments get under your skin and it's like "oh what, you want me to bounce my ass and shake my hips, put on a little show for you? Bitch I was a musician, I did this shit professionally, i could do this shit in my sleep" and you drop a bop or two or three where you're sassy and snapping your body to the beat just because you're frustrated and tired of being mocked and its like "whoops you kind of just dropped a really high quality performance out of basically rage and outed yourself as a potential asset he can use", this of course being intensified if you were lucky enough to get those Alastor esque showman powers where you can essentially summon little shadow goonies who love doing what you say/etc

Angel and Reader getting into it and Reader all "oh what, you think pole dancing is hard? Maybe 50 years ago, now white women taking yoga classes in strip malls learn that shit to be trendy, you aren't special" and Reader was like some pole dancing instructor in like a very sanitized downtown LA kinda way kwim and just to prove a point busts out some of the things they know and, oh joy there's Big V himself watching his two favorites getting catty with each other and enjoying it

Idk I just think of a lot of ideas involving music and dancing and things like that lol. Shit I've even been getting more into like drift phonk and more aggressive synthetic kind of music and sometimes I think of "imagine if Reader was waiting tables for Val and eas just secretly building some sort of massive career or online fame and one day Val is hanging out with his boyfriend and Vox has something on his phone playing and you just point like, 'oh hey that's my song, what do you like about it? I wanna come out with a new album but I'm looking for inspiration"

I guess this is kind of ultra specific but I also like the idea of like, Val clearly has no problem publicly mocking Vox and humiliating him, so I can just see like, Valentino shitting on Vox's taste in music, all "what, did a robot make that? How are you even supposed to dance to that? Cringe" and Reader is just kind of tired and annoyed with Mr big dick over here always pretending he has one over on other people and everything he likes is cool and everyone else is a loser, and you just, pop out of your seat and start shuffling, and if you remember the concept with Reader who can make their hair and or eyes glow, I like to think of Reader sort of pulsing on the beat, with all kinds of songs really. Imagine you're just trying to vibe on the dance floor at a club and your hips are swaying and light pulsing on the beat and it's like honey, your boss is a MOTH

I bet with Valentino it's a constant struggle depending on who you are. Trying to stay under his radar and not stand out too much but maybe needing some of his favor and protection where you at least need to be somewhat close to him. Not wanting his lust and possessiveness but maybe you're lonely or need some sort of acknowledgement you aren't completely worthless. Not wanting him to know you've got a specific talent but it being something so crucial to who you are that he finds out eventually, whether it's writing music or performing or dancing or writing or art or even skills that may help him in his criminal businesses like having magical powers or even having knowledge in chemistry or cooking drugs/making synthetics. Shit, I've even thought about a Reader who is a massage therapist or a chiropractor and next thing you know he has you becoming his personal "doctor", happy endings included.

#yandere stuff #sinprompts

[crowned-clown-rising]

A young girl watches BBC Merlin for the first time in 2022 and shares her thoughts for your entertainment.

This time season 3

Enjoy watching me lose my sanity I guess.

Season 1 | Season 2

• This show in never going to let me know peace ever again, is it?

• I kind of want to see Merlin snap back at Arthur more, because if he doesn't the servant-master trope becomes a nono for me. Like, if they fuck with each other, it sort of brings them to the same level, but if it's only Arthur treating Merling like shit, well... idk doesn't sit right

• Morgana my baby look at you how much you've grown. Yes honey play them all slayy

• About her reunions... 1) this Morgwen divorce is really feeling like a slap in the face they were sO CLOSE AND :c 2) How was Merlin so gullible lol xd 3) Arthur's... I'm really sad for them. I really feel bad for Arthur when he finds out and ugh tHEY COULD HAVE BEEN GREAT TOGETHER

• Is that Lucifer

• Wasn't Morgana super good with the sword how is Merlin even facing her with it?

• The goblin episode is the best one so far I'm laughing sO MUCH. Morgana thinking that Gaius knows about her secret and that Merlin stole her bracelet and in reality it's just a random goblin messing around and slapping the king's head after making him bald.

• OMG I JUST NOTICED HAHAHA in the throne room there is a shield hanged and said shield is one that belongs to my homeplace, Castilla y León, in Spain. And his fact it's even better when you know that in my hometown there is a pub called Camelot

• Is that the woman from Balto AND the herbalist teacher from Harry Potter

• Morgana using Gwen and putting her at risk to kill Arthur just broke my heart. I cannot- Not them. They were in love, your honor 😭

• Arthur: I have to do this alone. No help.

Merlin: Sorry I couldn't hear you. My ears suddenly fell off. Anyway I'm going to check every tabern in this realm in search for even more unrequested help. Ok I just miss Gwaine.

• Why doesn't Merlin tell Gwaine about his magic. He would keep the secret even just out of spite lol and probably high five the boy.

• This is not fair I already love Gwaine so fucking much 🤡 I really hate it here.

• Gwaine bi king??? How can I not stan.

• I need you guys to tell me the exact episode I need to skip so that Gwaine simply stops appearing in scenes and there is no other reason for it, we'll just say he went explore something.

• Is that the timelord from Doctor who

• Is that Queen Victoria from Doctor who

• I can't help it I'm pretty sad that Arthur not only has no idea of everything Merlin does, but he instead thinks he was doing something completely false and irresponsible and– like going to get drunk the day Gwen is getting burnt at the stake. It's SO SAD BC I WOULD BE SO DISSAPPOINTED AT MERLIN FOR NOT HELPING OUT AND Merlin must feel SO bad for not beeing seen and auhdfjalf

• Listen you don't understand just how much I wish Morgana had left Gwen out of their plots. It doesn't even make sense, she loved her so much and Gwen did nothing to her how could she be so eager to see her dead?? I hate it here. Imagine if Morgana was conflicted bc of Gwen? like, she would pursue her path but would try at least not to hurt Gwen, doesn't that make much more sense??

• Arthur and Gwen don't make my little heart flick as much, but they are pretty cute I have to admit it. And Merlin honestly seems happy that the people he loves are happy together.

• Is that Dudley Dursley

• This ep before the finale make me feel good about Merlin and Arthur. Not as a couple, but in reflection of character development and all. And they are awarded by their choices like yes finally.

• Unrelated but the 4 second scene where Merlin is doing chores for Arthur and Arthur is just there vibing and asking for advise/ranting gives such a homey comfy ambient between them that it's so sweet.

• I'm so grateful for Lance to know about Merlin's powers. Like yes finally an ally and a friend who sees him and can confide in 😭🥺 I just wish Gwaine knew too. That man is everything but a snitch.

• Gwaine con el uniforme de caballero guApooo El barrio entero para tii la reina del martes santoo el niño de nUestroS OjoS!

#bbc merlin #merlin #morgana pendragon #pendragon #arthur pendragon #guinevere #guinevere pendragon #morgana #arthur #merthur #morgwen

[bawkrya]

Um actually, the toothpaste-[I shan't see the bit through but please use this ask as setup to unlock more cdrama infodumping, I like hearing about ur deranged men mwah<3]

hi jae im using your ask for the cql infodump.

--

ok so like we going into the intricacies of these three motherfuckers and why shipping them in certain ways is a little fucked/fundamentally misunderstands their character(s)/etc.

CW for discussions of a bit of a variety of abuse

NMJ - Nie Mingjue LXC - Lan Xichen JGY/MY - Jin Guangyao/Meng Yao

So: run down for those who may not know these characters and what they're about.

All together, the three are known as the Venerated Triad. The three all played major roles during the Sunshot Campaign-- a war of the Jin, Jiang, Nie, and Lan Sects against the Wen Sect, who was trying to take over all sects --with Nie Mingjue/Chifeng Zun (one in the middle) known for leading the Campaign, Lan Xichen/Zewu Jun (one on the left) Also leading on top of protecting ancient Lan books when the Lan Sect had basically fallen, and Jin Guangyao/Lianfan Zun (one on the right) infiltrating the Wen Sect and sending battle plans to Lan Xichen, which ultimately helped them take down the Wens.

After the Sunshot Campaign ended, the three swore Brotherhood, which is like, really complicated to explain, but in most books in this genre, it can be gay.

So like why is it bad to ship all three if they did one of the gay rituals. Well.

Jin Guangyao initially joined the Nie Sect, then known as Meng Yao, as a form of servant. He was known as the bastard son of Jin Guangshan (the Jin Sect leader), whose mother was a sex worker, and was raised poor despite having the blood of arguably the richest man in the cultivation world. He was bullied to actual hell wherever he went, until it was brought to the attention of Nie Mingjue-- the Nie Sect leader. NMJ defended him, and pretty quickly promotes him to be the second in command of his army, especially after seeing how skilled MY was in this subject. He basically becomes an advisor alongside NMJ, became friends with Nie Huaisang-- NMJ's little brother --and was very well trusted by NMJ. But, despite now having a higher position within the sect, MY was still ridiculed by the General, and quite harshly at that, literally just because his mom was a sex worker. For the drama I guess, MY just DOESN'T tell NMJ about this.

Later on, a mass-murderer named Xue Yang would come to be held in the jail of the Nie Sect. Without anyone else's knowledge, the two were already colluding, as at some point MY was colluding with the Wen Sect? This shit is so confusing on timeline when it comes to CQL it's kind of insane, but anyways, MY already knew Xue Yang, and after a few days of him being held in the jail, Xue Yang miraculously escapes as the Wen Sect very suddenly attacks the Nies.

While this is happening, MY very deliberately kills the General of the Nie Sect RIGHT in front of NMJ. Like NMJ saw the whole thing. But he still has the gal to be like XUE YANG KILLED HIM!!!! XUE YANG KILLED HIM DA-GE PWEAAASSEEE!!!!!!! but they don't really get to dwell on that because someone else tries to attack NMJ-- to which MY saves him by taking the stab in the stomach for him.

Once they manage to get the Wens off their ass, NMJ has MY come to the little Nie meeting room, and is basically like (through tears) WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT MAN. Because again, NMJ trusted MY a lot. MY was, at that time, probably his most trusted guy in the whole sect that wasn't his baby brother, and now he's murdered his general and let an actual insane criminal loose. While NMJ claims the only reason he won't kill MY is because MY saved him during the battle, there is a lot of underlying care that he has for MY, so he just exiles him and boots him out of the Nie Sect.

"why can't that be gay" to me its a very surface level take to just ship them off of this. have some nuance. we'll look into these characters more intimately later.

Now. From here. MY would join the Wen Sect as Wen Rouhan's advisor. And he's REALLY playing up the part-- because at this time, it seems most likely that the Wens will win the war-- so MY would have a high ranking govt. position in the ruling sect. But. Wrenches are thrown into the plan, and eventually, MY realizes that he needs to have an escape route for whenever the Wens tip over, and they're no longer on top.

This is where Lan Xichen comes into play.

At the time, the Lan Sect had been viciously attacked by the Wens, where the vast majority of its people were eliminated, and the Cloud Recesses/where the Lans live had been destroyed. Lan Qiren, Lan Xichen's uncle, instructed LXC to take the ancient texts from the hidden Library of the Lan Sect, and to run. Because, if everyone else did get killed, at least the ancient texts and the Lan Sect Leader would still be alive. And very begrudgingly, LXC does. While running away, MY would save LXC and provide him somewhere to stay-- which gives MY the out that he needs. He gains the trust of at least one of the leaders of the opposing Sects, and because it was trust gained out of mercy, it was something that he could easily use against LXC should it ever come to that.

Over time MY gains more and more of LXC's trust by sending him copies of the Wen battle plans, giving him intel about the Wens, etc. etc.. And as more and more of it proves to be right, the more LXC trusts MY-- even though he had previously betrayed NMJ in a major way. Because NMJ is still pretty pissed/sad about what happened. Though, LXC doesn't tell NMJ that MY is the intel because he knows it would piss him off.

etc etc etc time goes on, the Sunshot Campaign comes to an end with the Wen Sect going under, and MY is revealed to be the intel that saved the other sects. MY goes to the Jin Sect, getting the name Jin Guangyao (which is a whole other post I could go off about (tho in defense of JGY LMFAOO)), along with the title Lianfang Zun. Again, he's basically an advisor guy, except this time it's under his dad who fucking hates him to death.

This is when the three, LXC, NMJ, and JGY, swear brotherhood. And again this may not seem so bad for a ship, but this is a very heavily summarized thing. Let's get into JGY's craving for power.

No matter what context you put JGY in, he will want power. It's a matter of proving himself to a father who doesn't care about him, proving himself to those who ridicule him for having such a "lowly birth", all that-- he's a viciously insecure man. When he was with the Nies, he had a high rank. He was cared for and adored by the ruling family of the sect-- but the Nies weren't the wealthiest or most influential sect. The Nies weren't a small sect by any means, but they weren't the Wens-- who were able to overthrow an entire sect over night, and initially get away with it because the other Sects were too scared to challenge them. And when the Wens were going under, the Jin Sect was once again the most prominent sect-- even if it was NMJ who was leading the whole campaign.

This craving for power was something that NMJ had noticed and would quickly come to oppose, but as he was slowly succumbing to his way of cultivation, people weren't so ready to believe him. He was "irrational and violent", a stark contrast to JGY who seemed to make himself at home with his new position in the Jin Sect. And eventually, NMJ would start to shut his mouth on the matter, especially when not even Lan Xichen would fully listen to him-- and he had a deep amount of trust in LXC. He would start to comply to keep the peace, which meant swearing brotherhood to a man that betrayed him, and letting that man back into his home.

These trips JGY made back to the Nie sect was mostly to perform what I believe was called "Tranquility" for NMJ. The saber spirits that the Nies cultivate are self destructive for its user, which was why NMJ's health overall was starting to decline. He would have outbursts of rage, his mental state was skewed, all that. And Tranquility was meant to help sooth his Qi in hopes of postponing the inevitable-- there wasn't a single Nie Sect leader that lived a full life while cultivating saber spirits.

BUT! BC JGY WAS MAD AT NMJ! JGY altered the score of tranquility in such a subtle way that not even LXC would notice for like, 16 years, and did it in a way that it worsened NMJ's health. So like. For over the course of what. Six Months. JGY was slowly poisoning NMJ through these visits-- and as of canon for Fatal Journey (The Nie Spin off Movie), taught Huaisang this distorted score, which lead to NMJ murdering members of his own sect in a fit of uncontrolled rage. Literally only LXC was playing the right version of Tranquility for NMJ, but he wasn't the one able to make the most visits as he lived the furthest away from Qinghe/the Nie Sect.

But yeah um. NMJs fucked up state lead to the best scene (NMJ kicking JGY down a whole flight of stairs) and the worst scene (NMJ fucking self imploding). He dies because of all this thoguh. Yeah.

now for xichen. my lovely webkins plushie soaked in milk that gets slammed against a wall 20 times in a row.

I can't deny that Xiyao aka LXC/JGY was like......... a Thing. Ok. But the thing people fail to realize is that Xiyao is an abusive relationship through and through, because JGY only used it as a way to have power. And the thing that trips people up about this is because JGY is human. He's comically evil in every other instance except for his relationship with LXC, which is why people think it was earnest, and that they just didn't get their happy ending because of things JGY did "in the past".

And I won't deny that JGY did have some underlying care for LXC-- because abusers don't ever want to believe that they're doing something bad. He believes he's doing what he's doing for his own sake, that he's in the right because if LXC doesn't have trust in him, then who will? LXC is an influential figure still, even if it's the Jin Sect that's on top. And LXC is the only person who stands up for him regularly within the four major sects.

Xiyao in a plot related setting makes sense. It was a survival tool for JGY. LXC was a gay man who was very vulnerable during the war. His father was killed, his sect was on the brink of total elimination much like the Jiangs, the survival of ancient history was on his shoulders so he needed to survive-- and JGY provided that link. He was LXC's shoulder to cry on, someone he could trust with personal secrets, and while there may have been a genuine connection from JGY as well-- his whole intention with the relationship was to gain power. While LXC may have indulged in sharing secrets, JGY probably never did. Considering he kept the whole music score and murdering their sworn brother a secret.

You can even see how JGY functions relationship wise in maintaining a certain image in how he treats the whole situation with Qin Su-- his wife and um. Half Sister. He love bombs to hell, and when it doesn't work he gets angry and lashes out. I don't think he would have needed to be as unrestricted to LXC as he was Qin Su, because LXC very much............ Has Issues. And I don't think it's helped because his mother was locked up by his father in a cottage for years on end in total isolation. LXC has NOOO basis of a healthy relationship, so I'm sure he accepted what JGY presented at face value. Which is why I think it was so easy for JGY to maintain those lies for literally 16 years.

JGY took advantage of skills taught to him by LXC to murder NMJ. He took advantage of LXC's favor to put him in a good light to the cultivation world, and he was able to get in to the Jin sect with LXC's encouragement. LXC is the literal pillar to JGY's success, and if that pillar falls, he has nothing to back him up.

Sure, he might have Su She, a dedicated follower who did a lot of his dirty work-- but Su She was despised even by LXC. He might have had Xue Yang to fall on for even filthier shit, but Xue Yang was a notorious mass murderer who eliminated a minor clan just because he felt like it. LXC was the ONE guy who he could rely on wholeheartedly to keep his reputation in tact. Which is why he begins to act so irrationally when he sees that he's losing LXC during the Guanyin Temple scene-- which is where JGY dies. AND GET THIS! GET THIS!

JGY DELIBERATELY. PULLS LXC INTO THE COLLAPSING TEMPLE WITH HIM, BEGGING HIM TO FALL WITH HIM-- BUT OH, OH LAST MINUTE HE PUSHES LXC AWAY FROM THE RUIN TO SAVE HIM ONE LAST TIME. SOMETHING THAT WILL STAY ON LXCS CONSCIENCE FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE!

their relationship is BUILT on JGY doing something good for LXC in order to make LXC feel like he owes him. I'm sure over the 16 years there were MANY positive events from JGY that LXC clings onto, but JGY still killed NMJ. He still killed Jin Guangshan, and pushed Qin Su into killing herself. He forced prostitutes into continuing to have sex with JGS even as the man was dying, he killed his own son with Qin Su after finding out they were related, and wiped out a minor sect after blaming them for the death of his son. He falsely accused Mo Xuanyu of sexually harassing Qin Su (or himself if u go off of the novel), and exiled MXY because he just didn't like him. All that! All that under LXCs nose.

so I just. I CAN'T take it when people say oh, i love 3zun because they make each other worse. NMJ and LXC TRIED to make things right between all three of them, and JGY couldn't settle for that. It's two victims and a murderer/abuser. Even when NMJ was still hurt by JGY's betrayal, he would ask LXC how he was doing in the Jin sect. He WANTED things to be better even if he knew things were getting worse, and he bowed his head out of respect for LXC, which would lead to his early death.

When you say shit like oh they make each other worse, I feel like that should only apply to characters who are mutually destructive. LXC was a victim of abuse. NMJ may have argued and fought back, but he was a victim of petty grudges. In an ideal world, NMJ would've been completely content with straightening things out and understanding the circumstances-- but the circumstances here were viciously damning, and JGY only made it worse.

and again like. LXC was a peacemaker. He didn't like that NMJ and JGY hated each other, even if they would be visibly pleasant to one another, he wanted them to go back to the way it had been before the Sunshot Campaign-- which is why I think he proposed the Sworn Brotherhood. But I don't think he knew every single intricacy that lead to the downfall between those two-- a simple solution like that wouldn't work.

And as I mentioned earlier on NMJ's and JGY's relationship to each other being surface level if you shipped them-- this may just be my own interpretation of NMJ, but I very much believe he saw JGY as another little brother. So, on the same level as Nie Huaisang-- who he cares very deeply for. JGY and NHS were around the same age (iirc jgy only a few years older, but not in NMJs age group), the two got along with each other greatly, and i believe both shared similar interests. So. I think the dynamic of NMJ holding JGY to the same standard as NHS is a lot more interesting and takes more things into account. Not every relationship between not-blood-related men needs to be romantic. lmfao. It also just makes the betrayal and how NMJ receives it a lot more personal to me.

These three have such an interesting dynamic to me that can absolutely be explored. Again I won't say that Xiyao is made out of nothing-- there's elements there, but to make them into a cutesy little pair is a vicious disservice to JGY's character, because you can't separate him from his manipulative nature. It's a core part of his character whether you like it or not, taking it away just takes away JGY's appeal. On top of that, shipping them for the abuse aspect is like..................... lmao. It's not mutually destructive. you're weird.

anyways nielan sweep, those two were sucking and fucking on the battlefield. a warriors bond can never be broken

(art by Valdrift, I commissioned this giggles)

#Asks #dragonji #HIIII THIS ASK IS FRM FCKING JANUARY #I have a milk ask sitting in my inbox from december too.

[fallenfromtoohigh]

you know, i always hoped i would be able to use this information someday, but i never thought it would be to help my sister (: knew him for over a decade and studied him relentlessly for over six of those hoping either he would notice me or i would become him, and now he recognizes my sister! who barely ever talked to him! who didn't spend years and years following him and obeying his every whim! but not me (: nope! not like i would have destroyed everything i loved for a single conversation with him! not like i studied his behavior for years so i could be just like him! not like i would have been his loyal servant forever if he would even just look at me! he wouldn't even remember my name. i don't know why i ever bothered. why i do even now under cover of hatred. i guess not all the hatred is fake, anyway. but deep down i know if he ever said a word to me i would break. it's probably not healthy. "why don't you like him?" because he destroyed my life. because he started killing me slowly, always unknowingly, when i was five years old. and by now all i want is for him to be put in his god FUCKING damn place before i do it myself. i don't think i will ever escape this. that's what so many years of blind devotion does. devotion to a god who sees you as nothing more than an ant in his way. but he's not a god, he's human, he bleeds. and that's what everyone needs to realize. they need to wake up and smell the rotten fucking roses before they get suffocated too. but even my sister wants to be friends with him so badly that she resorted to asking me about him. "do you know him better than me?" how can you even ask that? i spent so long learning him. devoting my life to him. you ask me if i know him better than you? i know him better than he knows himself. i am him now. "he's so hard to read, like you" because i copied him. because i stripped him down to his core when i was seven years old and tore out all the perfect pieces. the only reason why im not a perfect copy of him is because as soon as i wasn't afraid to be, i had realized what he is. so yes, i will help you. but when you become his "friend" and realize that he is just as flawed and stupid as the rest of us, don't come and tell me your woes. when he ghosts you after a week, i don't want to hear about it. when he breaks open your soul and leaves it hanging there, barren, i don't need to hear it. i know. he killed me back then, i think. turned me into a ghostly little copy of himself. I guess only time will tell if i can ever come back

[georgiaheartsdilfs]

→ treat me this way klaus x human f!reader

prompt : you are a friend of klaus’, a human friend. despite knowing him for a long time he treats you like an unloyal, untrustworthy, spoilt imbecile, you’ve only tried to gain his trust and his respect but after all these years you can’t help but wonder if you were only there to listen to his problems.  Tonight was the Mikaelson Ball and Damon had asked you out which obviously turned heads including Klaus’ warnings : swearing “I don’t even know why I was invited, I have to wear a stupid dress for this stupid occasion” I say frustrated with my dress as the door to the Mikaelson Mansion opened up slowly “you live here with them?” Damon whispers in my ear and I nod slowly. The Mikaelsons and I were staying here for a little while, Klaus had this plan about burning the remaining white oak in Mystic Falls and in order to do that he had to distract everyone, including his mother. I could feel the anger slowly bubbling up and the sharp, hurtful words reached the tip of my tongue. How I envied Caroline, the fact that in the small amount of time we were here she was able to suade him, to make him love her with just a glance.

It has taken me over a decade for him to even compliment me, to applaude me for being his therapist and for being able to kill a vampire without looking back, oh I envied her with every single thing in me. “I’m going to get some drinks stay with Elena and Stefan” Damon smiled gently. Damon loved Elena, it was more apparent than Klaus’ affection towards Caroline but Damon felt bad for me, I didn’t need a pity date... but whatever. “y/n” Elijah smiled grabbing my hand gently before kissing it “I expected you to not come at all” he says and I nod holding my purse gently against my hip “well this dress that klaus got me is uncomfortable but its red so I had to wear it somewhere” I groan itching the back of my neck. Elijah and I alway got along, more than Klaus and I anyways. Elijah could tell I was hurt every time I did something for Klaus and he never noticed he could see the smoke flowing out of my ears whilst my face turned red. No matter what I did, Klaus never seemed to notice or care, he would just nod and walk away. I would stare at him with nothing but hatred at the fact he could treat me like any other servant of his, the way he could watch me bleed before even thinking about healing me. It didn’t matter if I killed for him or if I made dinner for him he would never acknowledge even the simplest of acts, it was just the way he treated me. Damon hands my a glass of champagne, I look up at the staircase to see the whole Mikaelson family minus Mikael standing around with drinks in their hands. Esther looking down at her sons and daughter as if they were her pride and joy but everyone knew her real reason of attending. The things I would say to him right now, all the shameful and mean words waiting to be said at the tip of my tongue. But I didn’t speak. I held my breath, watching him look to Caroline in a beautiful blue dress but I knew he could hear me muttering words under my breath. “i wanna choke that smug look off your face niklaus” I muttered watching the smile on his face disappear gave me pleasure, he was waiting for my next words I could tell. He knew I was angry, I could see it on his face. “continue to look at her you fucking knob head” I mutter rolling my eyes before walking out, Damon had a mission of his own so he remained inside listening to the nauseating speech given by mother dearest. The champagne slowly went down my throat washing down all the other words I could say as I look up at the stars trying to calm myself. I only felt anger like fire on my skin. Minutes go by of complete silence, then the clapping... cheering and then the door opens. “y/n what are you doing out here?” the british voice said “klaus I don’t want to talk to you, if the past decade has taught me anything its that I’m always in the shadows never recognised not even by you who was once like me, a human bowing down to an older... if you don’t get the metaphor I mean you were nothing compared to Mikael” I spat at him. “I don’t understand why you treat me like some peasant as if I have done something to deserve such cold words or lack of” I say not facing him “I don’t know why you treat me this way its been fifteen years and nothings changed from the moment I met you” I turn around looking at him. He was waiting to see what I would say next, I felt it. He knew I was furious he could tell because I was the same colour as my dress. “you treat me like a stranger who has taken your family hostage or something, don’t you see all the things I do for you Klaus. the cooking, the cleaning, I’ve gone as far as killing someone just so you could have a town I do all your dirty work just small human a prey of all preys” by this point smoke was bursting out of my ears. “my hand went into multiple chests ripping out multiple hearts, hearts that could have treated me better than you possibly ever could” I lay down on the grass “I only pray every day that you don’t kill me” I breathe out. At this point I had given up trying, he wouldn’t understand anything about this. “do you think that low of me y/n?” he said calmly looking down at me and I nod my head “if I didn’t care about you I would have killed you from the first moment I saw you luv” he smirked sitting down next to me, “if you are blind let me spell it out for you hm?” he smiles looking down to me. “i fancy you luv”

#the originals #the originals family #the originals oneshots #klaus mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson oneshot #niklaus mikaelson oneshot #the vampire diaries universe #the vampire diaries #tvdu #story #tumblr #fanfiction #oneshot #imagine #klaus mikaelson imagine

[sukirichi]

good girl (m.)

You’re such a good wife to Naoya that he rewards you for your obedience.

request. naoya coming home to his beloved little housewife and feels like giving her a treat for being such a good girl.,,.,, read: man’s gonna re-arrange your guts and have some soft moments with you after (not that he would ever admit that shsghshsj)

cw. explicit smut, riding, dirty talk WITH praising bcos why not, dom! husband naoya, sexism, overstimulation, creampie, lots of kissing, titty sucking, you might end up liking naoya and that’s a warning

note. LISTEN. this is purely self indulgent even if this is a request. my bestie requested this to me anyway so ik she won’t mind i pictured myself as the reader :) so if you don’t like how the reader and naoya was portrayed, that’s a you problem :) EDITED BECAUSE IT’S NAOYA YAY, also got inspired by @caizen​ ‘s ask about naoya wanting his wife to not bow too deep because he wants to see her face :)

[part of the trophy wife collection]

Being Naoya Zen’in’s trophy wife required a lot of things. You had to be immaculate, précised, refined and full of dignity in everything you did. He already did the work all by himself just to keep the house running, his hard work the only reason you were able to live such a comfortable, luxurious life. On top of that, you had an extremely powerful man trusting you to welcome him every night, and who were you to not fulfill your duty as his wife well?

The moment the black limousine parked on the driveway, the guards lined on duty opening the doors of him and the rest of the house staff greeting him, you were already in front of everyone.

Keep your head down, but don’t look too hard at your feet. Naoya-sama wants to see your face – his lovely wife’s face – upon his arrival.

He would never say it out loud, but five years and counting of marriage with him meant you knew him better than anyone. Through his confident and arrogant self, Naoya worried about a lot of things, you included. There were times he’d wake up in the middle of a nightmare in which he lost you, his arms scrambling to find your body to press it against his for reassurance. You were there, you would always be there, but the confirmation never hurt.

You bowed down to him, skin cleared, cheeks flushed, and lips glossy – all telltales of a happy, nurtured wife who was well taken care of – present before him. And you were beautiful too; the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid his eyes on.

“Welcome home, Naoya-sama.”

Naoya’s shoulders immediately relaxed at the sight of you dressed in your yukata, hair done perfectly and hands clasped politely in your lap. He tried not to let it show too much though, even though his staff had watched him grow up, he needed to keep his pride as the clan leader. Not even his precious wife could make him tear down his walls in public, though you did not need to worry about his brash attitude, following him inside three steps behind as he’d instructed.

He loosened his tie and dismissed the other servants, locking the door of your shared room. “Is my tea prepared?”

“Yes, Naoya-sama, mixed with jasmine just as you like.”

Naoya’s hands stilled on his tie. His gaze fluttered over yours, eyes still ducked down to the floor with a small smile playing on your lips, one that said welcome home in more ways than one.

The sight of you – so compliant and meek as ever – stirred something deep within his heart. His whole life, he believed women were useless, creatures that were below him. Until now, he held firm in that, but fuck, you were always so open and willing to do everything he asked that he could feel himself hardening in his pants. Women may be useless, but once they followed his orders and praised him so heavenly the way you did?

He fucking loved it.

Naoya’s tie went flying the other room, his cock swelling in his pants as he tugged you by your wrist. You landed on the mattress behind you, watching with a heaving chest as your husband crawled above you. His gaze felt predatory, dark eyes hooded with lust while he planted his knees beside your waist, his fingers looped with yours.

You smiled sweetly up at him, so temptingly sweet his resolve broke for a split second. He captured your lips to taste you on him, the sounds of your husband’s satisfied hum making your chest puff out with pride.

Everyone may look down on you for marrying such a ‘horrible’ man like him, calling you stupid and immoral, even going as far as claiming you were nothing but a dumb cock-hungry slut, but Naoya – even you – knew better. You were not foolish; in fact, no one could handle Naoya’s attitude better than you did, and you were smart enough to keep buying that strawberry flavored lip balm he loved so much, causing your husband to squeeze your palms.

“Good girl,” he mumbled absentmindedly, the praises shooting heat flush to your core. “You’re so good for me, you know that?” he peppered kisses all over your skin, a gesture so rare that you were panting underneath him, resisting the urge to rub your legs together.

Naoya was extremely skillful in bed, his virility as a man not to be looked down on for his ability to render you immobile to walk, throat sore and voiceless for a few days truly impressive. But he was different today; his usual tight grip the same but laced with a want that went beyond than lust. You could never say it out loud, especially not around him, but it was clear – Naoya treated you with affection and care.

“I’m very lucky to have found such a submissive woman like you, but that’s not true is it? Women like you aren’t found, you’re trained,” he harshly tugged the first layers of your yukata to the side, exposing the sensitive flesh of your collarbone that was free for him to mark. “Have I trained you well, my wife?”

“Yes, Naoya-sama, trained me so good,” you rasped out, bringing your legs forward, only for it to bump against the sides of his waist.

Naoya sucked on your skin until he was sure he’d completely marked his territory, the grazing sensation of his teeth so erotic and passionate along with his clothed cock rubbing into your folds. His hand trailed down your waist, yanking the ties of your clothes apart. You gasped as he teasingly rubbed your clit, even going as far as to roll it between his strong fingers. “For you, ah, I’d do anything for you, Naoya-sama.”

“It’s my love when we’re in the sheets,” he corrected you, “When a woman knows her place and obeys me so well, a good girl like you deserves to be rewarded,” hearing your small whines at his words, Naoya chuckled at your skin. “Do you want that? Want me to make you feel good?”

“Yes, p-please, I need you,” you moaned wantonly, gathering the courage to lift your hips up and grind it against his erection. He surprised you by not pushing you away, so you kept going, slathering your wetness all over the front of his pants. “Fuck me, my love, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Naoya smirked, standing up to rid himself of his pants and belt. You whined at the loss of contact and sat up on your elbows, legs spread wide open as you feasted on the delectable way he discarded his clothing one by one. His fat cock, red and flushed with pre-cum, slapped against his toned upper body.

You would’ve groaned at his bare beauty, but he’d already crawled on top of you once more, completely ridding you of the multiple layers of modest clothing you wore, revealing a redolent set of white lace.

Naoya narrowed his eyes at the nearly transparent thong, his hands cupping your seeping cunt with a low hum. “Is this for me? Did my pretty baby get dressed up for me?” you nodded eagerly, pathetically reaching upwards to wrap your arms around him. You were growing needy, soft yet desperate as your stuttered gasps hovered on his ear. “Were you thinking of me the whole time I was away for work?”

“I always think of you, my love,” you breathed out, “Your smile, your voice, your lips, your hands,” legs twitching, you dared run your knee to brush his forearm, the teasing and confident movement earning you a seductive, warning glare from your dominant husband. But oh – you were just starting to have your fun. “Your cock inside me.”

“Naughty little girl,” he snickered, grabbing your hand and shoving it deep inside your panties. That evoked a high-pitched moan from you as your nails grazed against your shaved pussy, Naoya’s smirk present the harder he pressed your palm on yourself. “Did you touch yourself? Pleasure yourself like this?” He was testing you, reminding you of his power and authority, trying to see if you would break his rules that he’d been so firm into fucking deep into your skull.

Naughty as you might be sometimes, you never forgot your place. You were daring, but never in your wildest dreams would you dare go against him. Not because you were plain weak and submissive, but simply because the thought of pleasing him more and feeding his ego was far more satisfying.

You shook your head, pitiable tears already shining through. “N-no, I would never. Only you can make me feel good, just you, mmh.”

Naoya groaned deep in his throat, satisfied at your answer. “You’re always so sweet for me,” he says, leaning over to knee your legs open wider. He situated himself between your body, slow and sensual in removing your bra and panties, the lacy material disappearing somewhere on the black marbled floors. You laid there, vulnerable and wanting, clutching at his biceps as he grinded his cock on your puffy folds. “Have I ever told you’re the perfect little wife? So fucking needy for me always, fuck. This pussy was made for me.”

“This pussy is yours,” you acquiesced, breathing hard when Naoya pulled away to peer at your body. He liked his wife to be healthy, strong and ready to carry his child whenever he wanted, and his hands squeezed your hips appreciatively.

“I exist purely to serve you, my love,” you vowed, “I have no other purpose than to make you feel good and love you. You’re my everything, the world and more.”

He’d looked at you with lust before, the desire pooling in his eyes always making you feel wanted, but this was different. Naoya would never let those cursed three words fall from his mouth, but it shone clearly in his eyes anyway. He gazed at your curves and dips so lovingly that your arousal peaked, slick coating his cock from where he was slowly teasing your cunt with his tip.

Unable to hold back any longer, Naoya flipped you over. Your breath knocked out from your chest at the sudden movement, his hands tugging at your wrist to pull you close to him. He leant back on the bed, kissing you feverishly all the while keeping you shaking on his thigh. Due to your wetness gushing, you slid down his muscular thigh, and you moaned at the contact. “As I should be,” Naoya nibbled at your lips, his harsh words contrasting the tenderness of his hold on you. “You’re nothing to me if you can’t even do something as simple as that.”

You nodded with no hesitation, fully accepting that you were purely his now – and you would honestly not have it otherwise.

Naoya helped you lift your hips up, shushing you with a slap on your ass when you stared at him nervously.

Every time Naoya fucked you, he was direct and simple. He preferred to have you on all fours where he could focus on his own pleasure, or sometimes he would rather cum upon seeing your fucked-out face, the image of your tongue lolled out while he fucked you on oblivion enough to make him nut right away.

But now he was guiding your arms around his neck, kissing the sides of your lips as if to answer your silent questions. “Sit on my cock, baby, I’ll reward you for your obedience tonight,” he said, his cock twitching as he directed your entrance right above his cock. Naoya slid you down, allowing you to feel inch by inch, thick vein upon one another – sliding inside you and stretching you out so good. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead on his, teeth locked on your bottom lip as he bottomed out.

Fuck, you’d never felt so full.

However, Naoya wasn’t pleased. He clenched his jaw and tapped your bottom lip, scolding you with his mean glare. “Don’t hold back when you scream my name, you understand? Cherish this moment – I won’t always care about your pleasure. You should thank me for this.”

“I-I will!”

Torturous. That was how you would describe it. You had never been this close to him before; not in this position and angle. Each lift of your hips caused your hardened nipples to brush over his muscular chest, his attention sorely focused on the way you bounced on his cock.

Something about holding him this close felt so intimate, breaths tangled and moans shared, along with the pleasure delivered into your bodies with the way you were rolling your hips along his length.

“Still so fucking tight for me,” he said through gritted teeth, “I love this pussy so much, fuck, you’re mine. Just mine, all mine,” Naoya eventually lost it, hooking his arms under your armpits and feet flat on the bed. You kept screaming his name like a prayer, the worship falling from your lips like a broken record driving him to fuck into you faster. He’d had enough of your pace; he’d been good enough that now it was his turn to fuck you, and you were glad he did because his fast, brutal pace was so mind-numbing.

Naoya hitched you up higher until your chin rested above his hair, your breasts right at his mouth. He sucked and bit at the soft flesh angrily, grip so tight on your hips you were hissing from the pain. At the same time, it felt so fucking good unlike everything you’ve ever felt.

“My perfect fucking wife—a quiet, compliant wife is worth more than gold, baby. You’re my fucking treasure.”

Naoya thrusted hard and deep until the bed was creaking, mattress dipped from both your weight. The room felt so foggy with your lovemaking and you tightened around him, crying as he kept hitting that sensitive spot that had you seeing stars. “I’m c-coming!” you whined helplessly, hugging your husband deep to your chest while your fingers tugging at his hair. “Naoya, please!”

“Then come for me,” he nibbled at your ear, delivering another hard slap at your ass. “I’m allowing you to. Come. Make a mess around me.”

“Oh my gosh, ugh, fuck,” you came around him hard, your orgasm making you shake. He still wasn’t done, but his breathless murmurs of close, I’m so close had you holding him tighter, whispering dirty words in his ear to assist your husband into reaching his high. The oversensitivity of him plowing into you even after you came was too much, but you took it all like the good wife you were. Biting the protests down at your tongue, you rode him to meet his hips thrust by thrust, his balls snapping at your ass. “Mmmh, I love you, I love you. I-I love you.”

“As you should, baby. You’re supposed to love me,” Naoya devoured your mindless babbling by sliding his tongue inside your mouth, his hips stilling inside for a moment. Fingers clutching desperately to him, you shut your eyes tight, cunt dripping as Naoya spilled his seed deep inside you.

You kissed him one last time in refusal to let go, but Naoya wasn’t having any of it. He was very iffy every after sex that you had no choice but to pull away from him, wincing as he pulled out.

He stumbled into the bathroom afterwards while you laid there on the soiled sheets, weakly fisting the pillow beneath you. You were so fucked out, tired after a long day of managing everything he wanted you to take care of. To be fucked good by your husband…there was truly no better way of life.

Just as you were drifting off, you felt something damp sliding over your inner thighs. You blinked sleepily at a silent Naoya, sending him a small smile as he wiped both your cum away. He left the towel inside the bathroom before he came back, sliding his white shirt over your frame and tugging a fresh pair of his boxers to your legs. Aftercare with Naoya…while it wasn’t impossible, it also wasn’t a daily occurrence. Your heart kept fluttering inside your chest, that feeling blooming harder when he slid under the sheets beside you, his strong arms pulling you taut in his chest.

His skin remained mark free. You knew Naoya hated being marked; reminding you all the time he wanted to be flawless. You respected that and pressed a deep kiss on the spot above his heart instead, madly and hopelessly in love as you traced circles on his bare chest.

You could stay like this forever, in the warmth and safety of your husband’s arms, but you still had wifely duties to fulfill. Naoya had already done his, prompting you to lean up to trace kisses at his sharp jaw, sweet and docile as ever as you asked, “Naoya…how was work today?”

“Same as usual.”

That meant he didn’t want to talk about it, so you didn’t pry further.

“You need to rest and regain your strength so you can work hard again tomorrow,” you mumbled sleepily, “I’ve already planned your meals for the next week. We’re going plant-based for a while, you need it.”

Naoya remained silent. You would’ve assumed he’d fallen asleep if it wasn’t for his hand caressing your back in a manner so gentle that seemed so alien with him, the strangeness of it all intensified when you looked up at his face, only to see that he had already been studying your features a long time before. There was an unsettled frown on his face, one that you tried to smoothen away with the pads of your fingertips. “What’s wrong, my love?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve already forgotten about all my worries. They don’t matter anymore,” he whispered, his voice way too soft. It fit the atmosphere, however, whatnot with the newfound intimacy that you basked in. Suddenly, Naoya cupped your cheek, utterly serious as he croaked out, “Baby.”

“Hmm.”

“Do you love me?”

You didn’t have to think twice about it. The answer would be – “Always and forever.”

However, Naoya wasn’t satisfied. He needed more, wanted to understand more, craved to find a logical reason behind your devotion to him.

“Why?” he demanded, “What is it about me you love so much?”

“Everything,” you confessed, the love so clear in your eyes that even for a small moment, Naoya felt like he understood now. “You’re perfect to me, Naoya. I’m glad you’re the one I’m spending my life with. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

“But why?”

“Because,” you giggled, “You’re handsome, you’re caring even if you don’t show it that much, you’re smart, ambitious, hardworking and the best husband I could ask for,” Naoya opened his lips, probably to ask a stupid why again, until you cut him off, silencing your odd husband with a kiss. Thankfully, Naoya gave in, relaxing at your touches. “Loving you is second nature to me. It’s not living if it’s not loving you.”

Although he didn’t – and would never say I love you – he had his own way of expressing it. He let you know that he shared the same stance at you, staring deep into your eyes while he cupped your cheek, surprisingly somber as he proudly said, “I made the right decision of marrying you.”

“I’m glad you don’t regret it.”

“I could never regret it,” he whispered back, but you had already fallen asleep. That night, you dreamt no more. There was no need to when everything you’ve ever wanted was already right there at your reach, and Naoya joined you long after, the faint linger of a loving kiss a husband only ever gave to his wife the last thing you felt before you faded off into dreamland.

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