#the short answer is that this fight didn't really have much as its intent was different | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

izvmimi · 1 year

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cw: minors dni. no plot just smut. fem!anatomy. impact play. mild condescension. dacryphilia. cunnilingus fem!receiving. implied rough sex.

"aww, you're crying... does it really feel that good?"

despite the deceptively gentle tone, izuku's smile is wide, white teeth intent no devouring you. he smiles as though he isn't presently bullying his cock inside you, driving you mad with every inch pushed through; as though he doesn't have you breathless under his weight. a few tears run down the sides of your face, but you're not really in pain, rather in almost too much stimulation, your head cloudy and swimming in lust. he strokes your face affectionately, delighted by the daze in your eyes and the way your mouth falls open but doesn't answer much more than a soft gasp and a very short nod.

izuku pushes the last inch in, sheathing himself inside you so fully you can feel the base of his cock flush with your pelvis. his arms are hooked around your legs and tighten as he groans a little, throwing his head back in satisfaction of how warm and tight you feel around him.

"god, i didn't expect you to feel this good." before you can bring him your best sass, reminding him that he misspoke he's already moving, and the nudge and drag of his cockhead along your walls distracts you from any fight you have left. slap, slap, slap goes skin against skin, and there's a loud smack as he slaps your buttcheek which has you yelp - then he angles your hips just slightly upwards, his own still snapping in unbroken timing, to rub his palms against your butt, soothing the sting.

"sorry baby, was that too hard?"

"n-no," you murmur through soft sighs, then cry out sharply when he whispers, "good" then does it again, hard enough that you gasp. the next cry of his name - 'izu!' - is muffled by the press of his lips to yours. his pace is still unrelenting, but his palms run up your arms until they reach your hands above your head, and he sighs, suddenly slowing to a stop.

"m-more," you find yourself begging once his lips break with yours ending the kiss and you're staring each other in the eyes. his gaze softens, and he smiles. one additional long, drawn-out stroke has you mewling softly, thighs tensing up around his waist. he kisses your forehead as you try to move too to match him, deepening the friction of your clit against his pelvis.

"stoppp," you whine, nails scratching mercilessly into the skin of his back. he's teasing you and you hate it - it's your job to tease him, not the other way around. he should be the one begging for your attention; he's the one that follows you around like a lost puppy.

but not like when you're like this. like this, when you're soft and helpless under him, you're the one who gets teased mercilessly, treated like a plaything.

he dips down again and kisses you, biting at your lip then pulling back. curls fall around his face, framing them gently. he is so pretty, you think as your eyes focus, trying to lessen your overwhelming awareness of the way he throbs inside you. there's barely sweat on his forehead, and you remember he can go all night like this.

"move, izu-" you plead.

he slaps your ass again.

"say you love me."

his hand presses gently around the front of your neck, thumb grazing your lip. he's just as distracted by how pretty you look under him. how you behave. how your only gripe with him is that he's purposefully making you wait.

"i love you," you whine, moving your hips to meet his. he kisses you in a line, forehead, nose, lips, then descends back onto you, giving you enough thrusts that you're calling his name again.

but before you can get there, he stops again, and finally unslots himself from you, something that actually has you screaming no! but he thrusts his tongue back in its place, causing you to nearly tear out fistfuls of his hair as you buck at his face from pleasure.

before you know it, and right when you're about to climax, he withdraws again with a dragged breath inward, and forcefully pushes his length back in.

"f-fuck, you're even tighter," you can hear him whisper as he goes back to ramming into you harshly, desperately, but you swear that rather he's just gotten bigger and your fingers intertwine again. he presses against you close, kissing the side of your face as he buries himself in your neck, and into your soul and both of you cum and it's all too grounding, the sense of connectedness, as he pumps full into you and you feel nearly every. single. pulse. of his love.

breathing gently together, he rolls besides you, and you shiver. he pulls you close into his arms, wrapping a blanket around the both of you, kissing your cheek.

"you're precious, do you know that?"

your cheeks are still warm, and you press yourself closer to him, laying a lazy hand on his chest.

"stop teasing me," you murmur in a soft voice.

he practically beams, his smile so wide his eyes close and your heart opens again for him.

"isn't it fun though when i finally get the chance to?"

you pout playfully and he kisses you.

"fine."

he pats your stomach gently, then rubs your shoulders. there's still a glint in his eye.

"tell me when you're ready to go again."

#izuku smut #izuku x reader smut #izuku midoriya smut #daydreams: bnha #thoughts: izuku #mimi's notes

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i-need-entertainment · 11 months

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Character: Edgar Allen Poe x female reader

Warnings: one (1) single curse word, angst to fluff

Recommended you read part 1 first

You stared back at your reflection in the mirror, fighting with yourself whether or not you were really going to go through with attending. It’d be a shame not to go after you spent so much time getting ready- and you know Dazai was looking forward to going..

But could you really put on a smile and have a good time after getting your heart broken yesterday?

You sighed as you leaned back in your chair and turned to stare out the window. The thunder clouds from earlier had yet to release the heavy downpour that had been forecasted but it had started to drizzle. Still, not enough to cancel the gala, unfortunately.

The gala..

Yesterday Kunikida and Dazai uncovered a huge financial scheme happening inside a major corporation. As thanks, the CEO invited every member of the agency to attend the gala they were holding the next evening - they even allowed each member to bring along a plus one.

Of course, when the president revealed you could all invite someone to go, there was only one person who came to mind - your good friend and occasional co-worker Poe.

You had long since developed feelings for the eccentric young man. He occupied your thoughts, your dreams, and when you could manage it - your free time as well.

You loved hearing him passionately explain the plot he was working on for his next novel, swooned when he kept your favorite treats in his home and Karl was never anything short of an angel when you came and visited.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment you fell for him, but you figure it must have been sometime soon after you began working together.

You remember becoming fascinated with the typically shy and reserved man the first time you witnessed one of his bursts of confidence and enthusiasm. Something about watching Poe - who struggled to get out ‘hello’ when you first met - transformed into a passionate excitable man who just captivated you.

You had gone over yesterday evening with the intent of inviting him to go with you as your date. He had been working in his office when you knocked on his door and came to stand in front of his desk. Your heart was pounding and you could hear yourself trip over your words as you told him about the gala and your ability to bring a plus one.

And in just a moment your heart went from rapidly beating to feeling like it had stopped altogether.

"A plus one? Well…I'm sure the man you choose to bring will have a wonderful time."

Had you not been obvious enough? You know he can be a little oblivious when it comes to social situations but the man is a mystery fanatic and detective!

You looked like a nervous wreck and your body language was sure to be giving off all the right signals. So the only logical reason he would have brushed off your obvious implication was that Edgar Allen Poe didn't return your feelings after all.

"Are you going to go?"

His question had pulled your focus away from your heartache and back to the present. He had returned his focus to the document he had been writing, but you knew he was still listening to you. At times you thought he seemed completely distracted and as if there was no possible way he could've heard you, only to respond to your comment or question with an answer that could only come from someone who had been listening intently.

Was this your fault? Had you completely misread the situation and made a rushed assumption? But you could've sworn you'd seen a page or two with your name written at the bottom just barely hidden under stacks of papers on his desk before..

"Oh..I'm uhm..I'm not sure yet,"

The smile on your face had been forced as your brain panicked and grabbed at any and every possible excuse you could come up with.

"But I suppose I should call Dazai back if I am going. Wouldn't want him to change his mind."

You had faked a laugh to cover the cry you felt coming, but seeing as he hadn’t commented on its authenticity you assumed he had bought it. Your good friend Dazai had asked if you wanted to go with him and was well aware of your feelings for the mystery novelist. Asking him had been his idea in the first place so you supposed it was only fair he be your scapegoat as well.

He had paused his writing for just a moment before his focus returned as he hummed, "I think you should go…I'm sure you'll have a lovely time with him."

You could've sworn you felt your broken heart shatter at his insistence you go with another - you were right, there's absolutely no way he likes you back. After all, what man insists the girl he loves goes out with another man?

You sighed as you moved over to the window.

The drizzle had begun to come down harder and the massive thunder clouds had blocked out the sun and darkened the already dim evening sky. It’s too late to cancel now- you had bought the dress and spent over half an hour looking for these shoes, not to mention all the time you otherwise spent on your appearance. The sound of your phone ringing tore your attention back to the present and you walked over to your dresser to see who was calling you.

Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you picked up your phone, “Hey Kunikida, what’s up?”

What man insists the girl he loves goes out with another man?

A stupid one- at least that’s what Ranpo had called him when Poe told him the full story.

Poe sighed as he slouched over his desk, elbows propped on the surface and chin resting on his clasped hands as he sat listening to the rain and brooding. Ranpo had taken his leave earlier that afternoon to get ready for the gala he was being dragged to, and Poe had yet to move from his seat at his desk.

The desk is currently covered with letter upon letter written for none other than you- who he had practically shoved into the arms of another. He sighs as he remembers his stupidity from the day before. Of course the thought had crossed his mind that you had been there to ask him to accompany you to the gala, though the rational part of him prefers to label this thought as a hopeful delusion rather than a reasonable conclusion.

You could have any guy you wanted- so in what universe would you be crazy enough to choose him?

He hummed as Karl rubbed against his foot, smiling as the cozy little racoon nudged his leg with his head before jumping up to sit on his desk. Poe sat back in his chair and watched the raccoon shuffle about on the wooden surface before he paused, picked up one of the letters, and jumped off his desk and ran out of his office.

Usually when this happened Poe would scramble to catch the mischievous animal and retrieve the letter before any permanent damage could occur, i.e Karl giving it to you.

But what did that matter anymore? If he had a chance with you he had long since thrown it away, and with the gala beginning in less than an hour he highly doubted he’d see you before then anyway, so there really wasn’t any harm in Karl stealing the love letter.

The little rascal was probably just going to hide it or leave it somewhere for Ranpo to find and ridicule anyway.

*Ding* *Ding* *Ding*

‘The doorbell..? Surely it can’t be Ranpo- unless he got lost..oh dear’

Sighing, Poe stood from his desk and made his way out of his office and to the front door.

Poe didn’t get many visitors- actually it was safer to say he got none besides you and Ranpo, so to have his doorbell rung at nearly 7 pm on a friday evening was nothing short of strange.

Unlocking the door he left the chain connected and slowly pulled open the heavy door, “Hello- Y/n?!”

You smiled as you laughed, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you tried not to shiver.

“Hey Poe..mind if I come in?”

Nodding he gently shut the door and made quick work of the chain before yanking the door back open and quickly ushering you inside.

“What on earth are you doing out in this weather? And where is your coat?!”

Without hesitation he shrugged off his cape and gently draped it around your shoulders. After he was sure it wouldn’t fall off he gently placed his hand behind you and guided you towards his living room, where he had thankfully started a fire in the fireplace that afternoon.

“Last minute work issue I’m afraid, I’m not bothering you am I?”

Poe huffed as he continued to guide you down the dimmed hallways, frowning at your now damp hair and clothes, “Of course not, you know quite well you’re never a bother to me.”

You felt your cold cheeks heat up for just a moment before memories of yesterday's defeat resurfaced in your brain, effectively making those feelings sink back down to the pit that had yet to leave your stomach.

Sitting you down, Poe paused before he took the seat next to you.

“So…what can I do for you Y/n?”

You sighed as you wrapped the cape tighter around your shoulders, “I got a call from Kunikida asking about a report I had done on the recent embezzlement case, and when I started looking for it, I realized I must’ve left it here yesterday..”

Your hands played with the hem of his cape as your eyes drifted over to the candy bowl sitting on his living room table, your favorite candy stocked full inside the crystal serving dish. A small smile began to surface and the dreadful feelings of adoration once again began to swell.

You figure he must have noticed your longing stare since he practically jumped in his seat before getting up and bringing the bowl closer to you.

You gave him a smile before chuckling as you grabbed a piece of the candy, “I’m surprised you have any candy left after Ranpo’s visit this afternoon.”

Poe sighed as he set the bowl back on the coffee table, “I try to keep the candy for him and the candy for you separate, though when it comes to Ranpo and his sweets, it seems my efforts are almost always in vain.”

You hummed in agreement at Ranpo’s usual antics. You opened your mouth to say something but found nothing- why were you even here?

Kunikida had made it clear on the phone this was something that could wait till the morning, yet somehow you found yourself grabbing your keys and hurrying out of your apartment towards Poe’s home. The document wasn’t confidential information, and the rain had certainly been a deterrent- not to mention the apparent rejection you had experienced the previous day.

And yet here you sat, partially drenched on his living room couch, sitting in silence because you didn’t know why you were here but couldn’t will yourself to leave.

“I-I’ll go look for that document- you said you left it in my office?”

You shook yourself out of your thoughts and nodded, thanking him for taking a look while you tried to think of another reason for your being here.

Shortly after he had left the room and your thoughts had once again begun to spiral- you were interrupted by a small chirping noise. Whipping your head towards the arch way you softened when you realized it was Karl, who was holding a letter in his mouth.

You beckoned the racoon over to you with a smile, “Wow, he found it quick huh! C’mere Karl! C’mere baby!”

The racoon happily pranced over to you and bounded onto your lap, settling down and practically buzzing at the attention he was receiving from you.

You paused your petting of Karl to open the letter he had placed in your hands, ‘hmm…that’s strange..it’s addressed to me but..’ you turned over the envelope before flipping it back around to double check the neatly written cursive of your name, ‘It doesn’t look like the document..’

Furrowing your brow you gently opened the letter- it hadn’t been sealed, just loosely tucked into itself.

Pulling out the lone piece of paper you felt your eyes widen as you realized it was a letter..in poe’s handwriting..addressed to you..

‘Oh my- is this…is this a-’ You felt your hands stiffen and your heartbeat begin to pick up speed.

You wanted nothing more than to read it, but at the same time you couldn’t think of anything worse than reading it. Taking a deep breath you stilled yourself before unfolding the neatly folded stationery and began to read.

“To my dearest Y/n, I apologize I have not said anything sooner, and I loathe myself for being such a coward I could never dream of being capable of telling you of the feelings I hold for you. I hadn’t meant to fall in love with you, but the more time I spent by your side and the more I learned of your thoughts and your goals the more my heart yearned for you to be mine. Of course I know there’s no chance of this dream of mine ever coming true, if there was I would put the proper postage on this envelope and stop shoving these letters into a drawer in my desk..”

You sucked in a quick breath in an attempt to stop the tears from forming in your waterline. Your eyes scanned the page, then scanned it again as your brain still struggled to fully comprehend the words you were reading. ‘These letters..? There’s more?’

A pained gasp pulls you out of your focus and directs your focus to the now petrified man standing opposite of where you sat, slightly crumpled report in hand as he stood before you his shoulders stiff and hands obviously shaking.

“I-I uhm…I can explain..”

His quiet voice filtered off into a whisper, and a tidal wave of fear and sadness washed over your being as you watched the fear of rejection consume him. Was he really so oblivious he had managed to miss all of your hints? Did he really not know how much he meant to you- how much you loved him??

He sucked in a quick breath before lowering his head and his voice, “I’m sorry.”

Before you could react he turned on his heel and rushed out of the room, long legs carrying him much too fast for your liking as your brain struggled to comprehend what all had just transpired.

“To my dearest Y/n…”

“...feelings I hold for you…”

“...hadn’t meant to fall in love with you…”

“...my heart yearned for you to be mine.”

“...he does love me..” You blinked before your body was thrown into overdrive as you set down the letter and jumped from the couch, beginning your sprint down the hall towards his office.

Panting you groaned as you opened his office door- only to find it empty. Turning around you briskly walked down the corridor towards the slightly open door. Was he really that scared of your apparent rejection..? Wait- hadn’t HE been the one to reject you just yesterday?!

Huffing you took in a deep breath before lowering your head and beginning your light jog into the near freezing rain. You know he had closed the door when he let you in, so it being left open meant he had to be out here somewhere- but where?!

You put the hand that wasn’t holding the cape above your eyes like a visor as you desperately scanned the property, eyes jumping from place to place as they searched for his white blazer and shaggy brown hair.

‘Where is he?! I have to find him- he needs to know i’d never reject him in a million years..he needs to hear how much he means to me…he needs to know someone loves him more than he could ever imagine..’ You felt your heart rate pick up speed as tears began to form behind your eyes.

“...I could never dream of being capable of telling you…”

“...I know there’s no chance of this dream of mine ever coming true…”

You felt a single tear slip past your lash line as you stopped at the entrance to the garden.

Scanning the area you let out a breath when you finally spotted him- leaning against a tree as he appeared to be catching his breath.

You tried the gate- it was locked.

Had he locked it behind him?!

“Poe!” You watched him jump at your calling of his name, “Will you open the gate?! I really need to talk to you!”

He froze up before violently shaking his head, “Y/n, I would rather appreciate it if you could save your rejection for another day- today has been quite emotionally taxing and I would like to have the weekend-” You groaned before muttering under your breath before looking up to meet his gaze.

“Edgar!”

His rambling ceased at the use of his first name..when had been the last time someone had called him by it?

You laughed as you wiped the water that had begun to pour down your face as the storm intensified its downpour, “I’m not going to reject you!”

“What?! I can’t hear you!”

“I said- oh for goodness sake will you open the damn gate?!”

Cringing at your tone, he sulked away from the tree he had sought refuge under before jogging towards the gate of the enclosed garden.

Fishing into his pocket his hand trembled as he unlocked the gate, frown deepening as he braced himself for the oncoming humiliation and heartbreak and- *oof*

He felt the wind almost get knocked out of him as your damp (but slightly less so than his) body crashed into him. His eyes shot wide open as your arms locked around his waist and your head tucked close into him. He almost panicked as he struggled with deciding what he was supposed to do with his arms before gently wrapping them around your shoulders.

“...it’s alright…you can be honest..you won’t hurt my feelings-”

“Why are you so sure I’ll reject you?”

He looked into your eyes expecting to find anger, irritation, annoyance.

People had always been quick to judge him for his interests, for his reserved personality, for his quiet tone..it seemed as if nothing he ever did was enough, as if no matter how hard he worked or how ever many cases he solved it would never be enough-

He would never be enough.

Yet here he was- having just had his feelings for the woman he loved ripped from his chest and handed to her, yet she wasn’t sneering or looking down on him. She wasn’t ridiculing him for the words he had written on the page nor were her eyes full of sorrow or regret as if she was about to turn down her long time friend. Her eyes were gentle as her hands held firm around his waist and water dripped down her beautiful face and wetted her lovely hair.

You smiled before reaching up to cradle his jaw as you softly directed his gaze to meet yours.

“Edgar,” You felt your heart burn at the blush that began creeping onto the apples of his cheeks.

You took a deep breath before removing your other hand from his waist to mirror your hand on his jaw, now softly holding his face your thumbs softly rubbed over his jaw as his hands softly but firmly held your waist.

“...I liked your letter..no- I really liked it,”

You could see his lips pulled tight into a frown as he swallowed thickly. You could tell it was going to take some convincing before he truly believed you- so be it, you loved him more than you could have ever imagined loving anyone and at this current moment the only thing you wanted was for him to know just how much you cared for him.

“What I’m trying to say is- I loved your letter…but I don’t love it nearly as much as I do its author.”

You watched as his eyes widened before they closed as he let out the breath he had been holding, a soft smile and look of content in his eyes as his striking lavender gaze met- and held, yours.

“I’m…very happy to hear that..you had me worried..”

You huffed a laugh, “I had you worried? You darted into the pouring rain in the middle of a thunderstorm!”

He cringed before the redness on his cheeks deepend as his hands gripped your waist, “Hey- don’t try and pin this on me! Who opens a letter that isn’t properly addressed to them?!”

You rolled your eyes, “It had my name on it..also…what did you mean by ‘letters’..are there more-”

“That’s hardly important right now- what about your date?”

You shook your head, “It was never a date- Dazai got rejected by the waitress and wanted to be sure he’d have someone to be his designated driver, I said yes because I thought you had turned me down.”

Poe paused, “...oh..and the gala? Ranpo told me it started at 7 and it’s less than a quarter till..”

You sighed as your hands began to comb through his wet hair, “I hadn’t really wanted to go in the first place, I was already looking for excuses when Kunikida called me.”

He nodded before clearing his throat.

“Well…if you’re not busy..”

You could tell he was trying hard to maintain his composure as his eyes locked onto a random object far off and his hands began to fiddle with the side seams of your gown.

“..would you care to join me for dinner?”

Smiling, you grabbed one of his hands while the other gently turned his face so you could give him a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“I’d love that…maybe after you can read me some of those letters-” “Absolutely not! Now then…let’s go get dried off before we get sick.”

*across the city at the gala..*

“Where is Y/n? She’s going to be late and make the whole agency look bad-” “Kunikidaaaa relax! She’s not late,”

Kunikida sighed as he adjusted his glasses before returning to writing the schedule for the night into his notebook.

“Very well then- as long as she’s-”

“She’s just not coming at all!” *snap*

The rest of the agency members watched as Kunikida strangled the chuckling Dazai, berating him for misleading him and causing him to make an error in his scheduling.

“Relax, she’s doing something much more important.”

Kunikida paused in his throttling of the irritating man before turning his attention towards Ranpo- who had paused his snacking to give his two cents about the situation.

“More important than representing our agency? And just what might that be?” Ranpo smiled before hopping down from his seat on top of the table and sauntering back over to the refreshments table.

“Ensuring a friend of mine is happy enough to keep stocking his office with sweets!”

Big thanks to my gorgeous genius beta reader qui😩💕💕 @i-just-like-goats

#edgar allen poe x reader #poe x reader #edgar allen poe bsd #bsd x reader #also sorry for the wait i have the attention span of a greenbean #BUT ITS HERE- AND IM ACTUALLY SO THRILLED WITH HOW IT TURNED OUT

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disticfiction · 1 year

Text

Fig winced as he tried to break free from the Devil's Snare. Ordinarily he wouldn't dare move; he knew it only made the plant tighten its grip, but he could almost reach his wand. Fingers outstretched, he grit his teeth, eyes focused as the vines enveloped his limbs.

"So close," the dark witch teased. "So, so close." She cupped her chin, her smile lecherous as Fig struggled. "Have you ever heard of the Orgasm Charm, Professor?" He flinched. "It's relatively new. Apparently the wizard who invented it died from overexertion, brought on by intense, unending orgasms. Seems the silly man was so focused on pleasuring himself, he forgot to invent a counter spell. As a result, the ministry banned its usage. Not many people know about it, but working as an Unspeakable certainly had its perks."

Fig gasped. He'd wondered why the fiendish woman removed his pants before shoving him into the Snare. Much to his dismay, she'd caught him off guard, and although he hated to admit it, she was a powerful foe. Realising her intentions, his desperation to escape increased tenfold. Wriggling as the vines lifted him into the air, he managed to touch the base of his wand, but that brief moment of hope was quickly dashed. With a cruel snicker, the dark witch used Accio to pull the wand to herself, then snapped it in half.

"You won't get away with this!" Fig scoffed, swinging his body to and fro.

"Yes, I will. We're the only ones out here."

Using Lumos to protect herself, the woman slithered between Fig's legs, which parted as the vines avoided the glow. Without warning, her cold fingers touched his labia and spread his hole, making the old wizard squirm. It was tight and small, but she persisted until his wrinkled, pinkish insides were fully exposed.

"S-stop it!" he begged, his brows curling. "Not there!"

"Awfully sensitive, aren't you? Must be your age." She took a moment to appreciate his position, and how worn his insides looked. "You're tiny, but this hole's been through a lot, hasn't it?" Fig looked away, his cheeks burning. "Oh, come on, don't be like that. It's obvious. You've been fucked hard."

"Please, stop..."

"When was the last time?" she asked, jamming two fingers inside.

"Augh!"

"I wonder how wide it can get."

Fig arched back, gripping the vines for purchase. "Stop! Please!"

"I'm just warming you up, take it easy."

His walls clasped her fingers, fighting her, yet welcoming her. She went in relatively dry, but a few simple thrusts had him soaking. Despite his age, he reacted far better than she expected, furthering her belief that the gentle, soft-spoken wizard was far more wild than he appeared. Either that or he'd been taken advantage of many times throughout his long life.

"Stop or I'll--! I'll..."

"Cum?" She pinched his clit, earning a resonate scream. "You're squeezing me. Do my fingers really feel that good?"

"N-no more! Please! Ugh!"

She thrust harder, faster, enticed by his cries of pleasure. "Answer my question and I just might."

"Wh-what question?!" he squeaked; he was truly a delicate man.

"When were you last fucked?"

Fig clenched his teeth, sweat coating his forehead. It felt so good. He could barely think as her fingers, though soft and slender, rubbed violently against his swelling walls, pulling out with a strong scissoring motion before plunging back in. He wasn't prepared for how skilled she was. He wasn't prepared for anything.

"Please stop! I'm begging you!"

Beneath his short, silvery pubes, her other hand worked his clit, which throbbed between her thumb and forefinger. It was too much. Shaking like a rattle, his stomach coiled, then burst with a pleasure so foul, tears formed in his squinted eyes. A clear liquid gushed from his cunt, his toes curling as the woman rode the waves--and she rode them for a while. Only when his convulsions began to settle did she slip her fingers free, leaving his freshly ravished hole loose and winking.

"Squirting already? I have to admit, I didn't expect you to be so weak."

Fig's chest heaved, his head hanging and dizzy. "E-enough..." he wheezed. "Tell me what you want."

"I would've thought that was obvious. I want the student, Fig. The one who can use Ancient Magic. Where are they?"

His eyes popped open. He knew what would happen, knew she wouldn't stop, but he loved that student. Special powers or no, they were like the child he never had. Finding his resolve, he lifted his head and met the witch's eyes, his own cross and determined.

"I'm not giving you anything."

"Pity," she sneered, backing away. "Don't worry, Fig. I invented a counter spell, though if you keep playing hard ball, I might just 'forget' the incantation." He watched in horror as she pointed her wand at the vines, then whispered, in a malicious tone, "Orgasmus."

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Fig's mind flashed back to earlier that morning. The headmaster, the absolute brute of a man, had called him into his office--and he hated when he did that. He knew a summons meant there was a fifty-fifty chance he'd get fucked, and he was right. He wasn't in his office more then a minute before the headmaster had him pinned down, robes flipped and hole stuffed with his impressively thick cock.

"You caused me a lot of trouble today, Fig. The last thing I need is an inspection from the Ministry! Why didn't you just escort the new student by train or boat? What were you thinking!?"

"P-please, sir! Not so rough!"

"Silence! When you asked for a sabbatical to grieve your late wife, did I say no? No! I gave you more time than is even allowed!" He thrust faster, harder, pounding the old man into his desk. "And this is how you repay me?! I have Ministry officials breathing down my neck, wondering why I endangered a student! As if I had any idea you'd be traveling by carriage, which makes me look equally incompetent!"

"Forgive me! I thought it was safe!"

"Silence!"

Fig shook his head, but didn't fight it. He knew this would likely be a consequence, especially when he only partially cooperated with interrogators. He had to leave out the vital details, to protect his student. Rookwood and Ranrok already knew, somewhat, about their abilities, and if Phineas and the Ministry found out, the world would know. Wizards and witches, both good and evil, would seek the student out. They'd be locked up, experimented on, tortured, or worse. Or all.

He wouldn't allow it.

"Sir, I-I'm going to--!"

He came, arching back with a muffled scream as Phineas covered his mouth. He loved it when Fig shuddered beneath him, his walls clasping around his cock. It felt amazing and gave him a sick sense of superiority. For a moment, he pulled out, giving the old man a brief stint of relief, but not to be kind. Rather, so he could watch his hole twitch, his gape the exact same size as his shaft.

"What aren't you telling me, Fig? What aren't you telling the Ministry?"

He couldn't say; he wouldn't. "I've t-told you everything," he lied. "A dragon attacked us, we searched for the student's luggage, then came to Hogwarts."

"You were gone for six hours!"

"Headmaster, I think you're underestimating how far belongings scatter when they fall two hundred feet from the sky."

With a growl, Phineas drove back in, burying his cock to the hilt. "Don't give me an attitude, Fig!" The old man hollered. His boss was being far too aggressive, more so than usual. "You've been a thorn in my side since day one!" He grabbed the back edges of the desk and pulled against them to strengthen his blows. "Now you're trying to end my career?! Is that it?!"

"N-no!" Fig peeped, trying to ignore the sound of the headmaster's skin slapping into his. "I would never!"

"Then prove it! Tell me what really happened!"

But he didn't. He kept his student's secret to himself, even when his orgasms threw his mind into chaos. Through the pleasure, through the heavenly shame, one sentiment persevered: Never tell.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

When Fig opened his eyes, he held his breath, feeling the harsh, rubbery texture of the Snare push against his rim. He wasn't dreaming, it was all really happening. He was going to be fucked by a homicidal plant in the Forbidden Forest.

As if sentient, the vine coated itself in his juices, then shoved in, all the way to his cervix. Nothing could've prepared him for that--for the force, for the stretch. He wailed, the dense bumps and veins rubbing his insides and straining his crease. He'd never taken anything that large, not even from the headmaster, and much to his distress it felt spectacular. His legs quaked, barely able to spread wide enough to make room, his muscles flexing, but the Snare prevailed. Smaller vines looped around his thighs and calves, holding his legs in place, then rocked him slightly as the one in his hole began to pump.

"Out! T-take it out!" he begged, writhing like a fly stuck in a web.

The surface of the vine was firm, almost leathery, brushing between even his most discreet crevices. It wasn't right. It wasn't natural. Though being ripped open by a plant wasn't the worst part. For Fig, it wasn't about how genuinely good it felt. It wasn't about how readily his hole wrapped around the intrusion. It wasn't about the sheer humiliation that he was in public and some bloodthirsty witch basked in every second of his torment. No. For Fig, the true tragedy was that the Snare, with its thick and ragged branches, hit places even his dearest Miriam failed to find.

A few thrusts and his world shattered. The unrelenting pressure that swerved through his tunnel the moment that monster entered stacked all to quickly, then came crashing down with the fury of a landslide. His clit, disturbed by the savagery, swelled as red as his rim, then quivered as a stream of liquid burst from his core. As he rode the waves of this newfound ecstasy, his eyes rolled back, his fingers cracking in random directions. He had no idea he could climax like that.

"You were barely penetrated!" the witch laughed. "You really are pathetic!" She circled around him, watching his fluids drip onto the grass. "Fig, I really don't think you'll be able to handle what comes next." With a grin, she wiped a line of drool from his mouth. "But I can help you. Just tell me where the student is and I'll let you go."

"G-go to hell..."

The witch frowned. "You're brave, I'll give you that. I guess that's typical of a Gryffindor." She stepped back, letting the Snare do its duty. "But everyone has a limit, old man."

He grit his teeth, tears welling in his eyes as the vine commenced its pounding, but harder. Faster. Fig groaned, doing everything he could to clear his mind, to pretend he was somewhere else, but his cunt was even more sensitive than before, his last orgasm still lingering. If this had happened on any other day, it might've been better, his head reeling with the image of the headmaster fucking him on his desk. This was too much for one day. It was too much for a lifetime.

"M-Miriam..." he spat, trying to replace Phineas's face with hers. She never would have treated him so poorly; though, as his pleasure mounted once again, part of him wished she had. This sensation, whatever it was, he longed to share with her. "Miriam, my love." He reached for the sky, his eyes fogging as the vile thump between his legs knocked the air from his lungs. "Aaaaugh!"

"Another one?" the witch, laughed. "So soon?"

She snapped her fingers and the vine pulled out, making the old man bleat. Once empty, his hole pulsed, searching desperately for the girth that spoiled it. What a betrayal. It wanted more, but Fig didn't. He needed it to end before he lost is sanity. As his chest heaved, tears rolling down his cheeks, the woman moved closer and straightened his scarf.

"Who's Miriam?" she asked.

Fig's shoulders bucked. "Don't you speak her name!" he barked--and that may have cost him the last of his resolve, every nerve and muscle wrenching.

"Ooh, sore spot. I see." She flicked his nose, playfully. "Is she the one who fucked you before this? You seem awfully fond of her. I wonder how she would feel if she knew you were thinking about her in this context?"

Fig wept, averting his gaze. "Please, stop this."

"I will," she quipped. "Just as soon as you tell me where that fifth year is."

"F-fuck you..." he yipped.

"My, that was vulgar." She sighed, sarcastically. "Will you at least tell me who fucked you?"

"Go soak your head."

"Wrong answer!"

Impatient, she snapped her fingers, and a larger vine slipped in, forcing Fig's hole wider than it could bear. As the length tore through him, banging into his end, he cried out. His mind went blank, any image of Phineas or his beloved Miriam fading with a flash of white. It couldn't feel good, it shouldn't, yet as the vine pumped, threatening to split his walls, he smiled.

"Oh, you like this, do you?" the witch teased, pushing down on his stomach. "I knew you were a whore."

His smile waned, his moans echoing through the forest. He couldn't concentrate on anything but the fierce build up plaguing his lower half. He was enraptured. The way the vine sawed through him, without compassion or pity, yet managed to pamper him in ways he never thought possible--it scared him. He yanked on his restraints, on the verge of madness as the thrusting and force on his stomach pushed him over the edge.

"Aaaughh!"

He came, seizing as another stream of liquid shot across the ground, propelled by the woman's compressions. When she let go, he gasped, his head spinning. He hadn't realised, but he was holding his breath, his jaw clamped as his fourth orgasm on a dirty plant warped his senses. It didn't stop. The vine kept thrusting, making the poor professor scream as it milked his climax.

"Who fucked you?" the witch asked, her tone somber as she brought her lips to his ear.

"Th-the headmaster..." Fig relented. He was exhausted, tears and drool glistening on his face. "Ph-Phineas Black."

A deafening laugh cut through the air. "Phineas?!" the woman roared, sadistically. "That pompous prat?! He's been fucking you?! Oh, that's hilarious. I thought you had more respect for yourself than that."

"Stop!" he squawked, his hole so sated, he felt his heart race with every lunge. "I can't take this anymore!"

"Then give me what I want."

It was tempting. He felt his willpower waver as the vine plowed him with ruthless intent. His student, his friend--he pushed their whereabouts down into the deepest recesses of his mind.

"I don't know where they are!" he vowed.

"Liar."

As before, she snapped her fingers. The vine pulled out, and to Fig's horror an even bigger one pushed into his entrance, parting his distended lips. Despite how well the previous vines prepared him, this one had a bout of trouble squeezing in, his walls restrained. They simply couldn't stretch any wider. At least, he thought they couldn't. Tactfully, the vine rubbed itself up and down his slit, drenching itself in his fluids, then tried again.

Fig wailed, his eyes bulging as his crease stretched across the texture. Slowly, it dipped deeper and deeper, until he felt a tremor in his soul. For a slight moment, he felt nothing. He may have blacked out, may have cum--he wasn't sure--but when the vine started thrusting, he screeched, his usually soft voice erupting into the most lewd noises he'd ever made. Euphoria. Pleasure in its purest form. His hole fluttered, intoxicated by the beating. How anything could feel that good was beyond his understanding. All he knew was that, in his opinion, he didn't deserve it. It wasn't rape, it was a gift, and one of which he was unworthy.

"Where's the student?" the witch asked, running her nails through his shaggy hair.

Fig groaned. "O-over the years it has been ... surmised that m-magic stems from two things! The users w-will and intent!"

"What?"

"If you turn to page three hundred and s-s-seventy in your textbook, we'll discuss—augh! Q-Quisling's theories on the subject and why they were discredited!"

"You cannot be serious." Irritated, the witch covered his mouth, turning his words into smothered moans. "Just cum, old man. No need to be a hero."

His brow furrowed, he did as she ordered, cumming so hard he lost count, his fluids spewing. As the waves of pleasure rushed through every limb, he felt her fingers climb over his nose, plugging his nostrils. In a panic, he gasped for air, but nothing entered, the oxygen impeded. She didn't allow him to breathe, and the vine continued to fuck him, rocking him like a metronome, sliding in and out at breakneck speeds.

His survival instincts triggered, his face turning dark as he tried to shake her hand from his mouth and nose, but the unyielding pleasure only sharpened. His last orgasm still tingling, another wracked his body, far too soon and even more consuming; but he still couldn't breathe. Terrified, he batted his eyes at the witch, pleading for mercy, but the vine kept fucking him and her hand remained in place.

He felt faint, his hue turning a light shade of blue as his eyes wandered. The pleasure mixed with a primal fear was inescapable. He felt himself slipping, saw his wife, his student, his friends, then gave in. He didn't want to die, but he couldn't fight it. Not any longer. He'd lost and he was so tired. Not just of the abuse, but also from mourning and stressing over his wife and student. He craved peace. As another climax reached its peak, he hung back and moaned with all he had left.

Suddenly, the witch's hand disappeared and his chest expanded, impulsively. Right as he took a much needed breath, his hole clinched, cumming at the same second the air filled his lungs. Mesmerizing. Somehow it felt even better, leaving him a sobbing, mangled mess.

"Where's the student, Fig?"

He smiled manically, the vine still pounding his hole. "Who cares?" he huffed. "Just fuck me..."

The witch's heart sank. "What? No, the student. The student!" She shook him by the collar, but he only tittered in response. In her attempt to break him, she'd snapped his mind. There was no point in interrogating him anymore. "I can't believe this. You useless old fool!" At her wit's end, she took aim at the vine. "You want it to fuck you? Fine. It'll fuck you into dust. Engorgio!"

Any emotion Fig felt in that moment was ineffable. The vine inflated, stretching his walls so wide, not even his captor could explain how he didn't tear apart at the seams. Somehow, he adjusted, his insides hysterically reshaping themselves to fit the beast that plowed him. Loose but tight, his crease rolled in and out, clinging to the appendage for dear life--and he came. He came with a mighty roar that gave the witch pause. Surely someone heard that one.

"Stay here and rot," she hissed. "Cum to death! At least you'll be out of Rookwood's hair!"

In a rage, she turned on her heel and ran, leaving Fig to his fate. Alone, he cried out, no longer conscious of where or even who he was. Sweat, tears, and drool flung in every direction as the assault claimed his sanity. Another orgasm, then another, then another. It was like the opposite of Crucio, wounded by pleasure instead of pain. It didn't end, every climax chipping away at his memories.

Would he die like the spell's creator--a man forced to cum until his body gives out? Ultimately, he decided it didn't matter. He loved cumming, loved the way the vine slammed into him, its attention solely dedicated to his pleasure. Even if it destroyed him. Even if it killed him. His arms and legs had grown sore from hanging in binds, but that was nothing. The pleasure was greater and he prayed it never stopped.

"Aaaaugh! Yes! Yes!"

He came again, his tongue sticking out as his toes curled and eyes clouded. Overblown, his squirting had lost its luster, the streams thinning into tiny, harrowing spurts. He needed a chance to recover, to revitalize, but the spell held strong. His cervix kissed the vine while scraped raw by the texture, his clit danced, his walls grated. Another orgasm, then another, then another.

And another.

It couldn't continue, and yet Fig beamed like he'd never known such joy. It was incomprehensible. It was an affront to all things decent, but it was paradise.

"Lumos Solem!"

A voice boomed and a blinding light filled the forest. When it dissipated, Fig was on the ground, the Snare screeching as it scrambled back under the earth, dislodging from its victim's hole. Free, at last. In a mystified state, the disheveled old man stared up at the sky, a frayed smile spanned across his face, his legs numb and sprawled from side to side.

"Eleazar! Eleazar!" The voice cried. It was Ronen. "Merlin, are you alright?!"

Cautious, he cast a charm around the two of them for protection, then took the old man into his arms. As he held him, tightly, he tried to ignore his hole, but the damage was so blatant, he couldn't help but stare.

"Oh, Eleazar..."

His gape was massive. Borderline absurd. It didn't seem possible, least of all to a virgin like Ronen; but his eyes fixed to the spectacle. Fig's insides, which wracked with spasms, flared deep shades of red, leading all the way down to his end. Those parts were never meant to be visible to anyone, and it scared Ronen, but he kept looking. He had to. His crease was chafed and distended, pulled slightly forward, his walls loose and rigid. The abuse had taken an irreversible toll. It wouldn't be able to close on its own--if ever fully--not after everything it had suffered.

"Eleazar, can you hear me?" Ronen sniffed, holding back his tears.

Fig's crazed smile slowly departed. "A-Abraham?"

"Yes, it's me. Are you alright, my friend?"

Fig sobbed. "M-my hole..."

"I know, I know. Just take it easy."

"It f-feels so good..."

"Well I'm glad it doesn't hurt, because it looks like it should."

Fig shook his head, weakly, then convulsed. "M-Merlin! Auagh!"

A jolt of pleasure made his hole contract, as if he was still being fucked. He intended to ask Ronen something, about someone, but he couldn't remember what. All he knew, all he wanted to know, were the blissful pangs throbbing between his legs, his hole slack and battered. Without thinking, he grabbed the younger man's hand and pushed it into his entrance, brushing over his aching clit.

"What are you doing?!" Ronen flushed, jerking his hand away.

"No! More! Please, don't stop!"

"Eleazar, get ahold of yourself!"

"More! Fuck me!" He ground his hips, his arm shaking as he reached for his friend. "Please! Abraham, please! I need to keep cumming!"

Ronen fell back. He didn't know what to do, but he could tell the old man was deteriorating. Possibly cursed. Afraid to lose him, he crawled closer and gave him what he wanted. It felt wrong and he hated it, but he reluctantly let his fingers slide into the chafed cunt beneath him, causing Fig to shriek.

"Aaaugh! Y-yes!"

Ignorant to any type of sexual activities, Ronen merely thrust four fingers in and out, as they fit, but that was enough. Fig was so fragile, so susceptible, the lightest touch felt like an army of men sharing his pussy. With a splintered scream, he came, completely losing touch with reality as his mind muddled.

No hole was meant to endure this.

"Eleazar! Hang in there!" Ronen cried, panicking as his friend lost consciousness. "I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have--!" Distressed, he cast Levioso. "I'm going to get you to the castle!"

As he felt his body lift off the ground, he cracked. The colours of the forest were distorted, his vision blurred. He didn't recognise himself, but he didn't care. He came so much, so hard, it was the happiest he felt since--what was her name? With a shrug, he closed his eyes and tucked his face into Ronen's chest, then succumbed to the ecstasy.

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kiliinstinct · 7 months

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💌

Fic Writer Asks // Accepting More! 💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

Uhh- so.. this is awkward, because I don't know if I should ramble about my Genshin Wips or my FT wips (though I'm 75% certain you'd prefer the FT-) Recently, I had a down moment where I just felt like my writing was stagnating and that I wasn't really improving, but regressing instead. After talking it out with some friends, I came up with an idea for how to approach my writing and then started using this app called 'stimuwrite' that... hoo boy, it has been quite a handy tool so far and it's had me excited to write again. I haven't had this much fun writing in ages. It's definitely made me enjoy my wips and actually look forward to working on them more than I've felt in a long time. A blessing, really. But this is for my up and coming work- and thankfully, the soon to be updated Violent Moon and Flames Desire were both written using that app so- here's some "bits" from both those stories that I had a lot of fun writing (I'll also include one Genshin since it's also been worked on with that app and has been a lot of fun):

-- Flame's Desire --

”Whoever taught you how to write needs to give you another lesson,“ She muttered. Natsu's answering response was to scrawl a single letter over the paper, large enough that no amount of chicken scratch could hide its secrets from her: a large E.

Before she could respond with the obvious answer, he quickly scratched over the letter and shook his head frantically, lips thinning as he frowned. In larger letters, he added two more words that Lucy translated to, 'never again!'

She laughed so hard ink sloshed onto her fingers and dripped onto the paper. A subconscious part of her realized she'd have to help acquire him cleaner bedding later if this kept up.

”Fine. No Erza to teach you. Let's try again... slower this time.” Lucy sighed, blowing a strand of hair from her face, “maybe I can understand it then.“

Natsu crumbled the paper under his hand and flicked it into her face, grinning maniacally as she quickly tossed it back, missed, and watched it sail by his ear to bounce off the back wall. More laughter ensued and even Natsu managed a chuckle, grunting from the strain.

-- Violet Moon --

”... so,“ He drawled, refusing to meet the others' eyes, ”ya' gonna try and convince me to come back?“ Fat chance of that happening, he thought. If Freed believed he'd return after a short conversation, he'd be wrong, but would the more reserved man accept a fight involving tooth and claw rather than debate?

It was only in that moment that Natsu realized he'd never seen Freed transform: none of their family gatherings through the years had the green haired man running through the fields on all fours like the others had.

”Quite the opposite, actually,“ Freed's voice pulled him away from the revelation, amusement tinging the edges of his words, ”I was going to ... urge you, into running back to town. On all fours if I must.”

Wait.. what? Natsu spun back to face him, the world spun in his rush and he wobbled in place, fingers digging into the ground to balance him. ”... you actually WANT me to go against the old man's orders?“

-- Magnetism (The Genshin one) --

That's right, recollection settled back in and Aether relaxed, but it didn't answer the question shifting in his ribcage. If he'd learned it before coming to Liyue, why did it feel as if he was fishing it out of the void?

“I think,” He began, feeling his throat fill with molasses, “I think I may have met one.”

”Really?“ While it sounded like a question, the way Lumine grasped his wrist and forcefully dragged him through the crowd told him otherwise. She pulled him towards a shaded area beneath the largest tree she could find and immediately reached for the offending mask, intentions clear.

His reflexes were faster, smacking her hand away with a frustrated squawk. ”What are you doing, Lumine?“

”You somehow got your hands on a Yaksha Mask, Aether!“ She hissed, frustration burning through her words as she made another grasp for it. A short scuffle erupted between them as both twins muttered beneath their breaths and tried to overcome the other, ”Hand it over! I knew we shouldn't have kept it!”

“Do you really think Hu Tao would have let me keep it if it was dangerous?” He reasoned, yanking the mask off his hip to hold it over their heads. Their heights were too even and he had to move to his tip toes just to avoid her grasping fingers.

#kili answers #saintartemis #long post #my bad #i got rambly i guess #but seriously that stimuwrite app is a godsend #i'm going to start recommending it to everyone i swear

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wordslefthanging · 2 years

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[De-escalate]

"Take a swing at me and we'll see if it's true," MC challenges Diavolo, but this was all starting to feel a bit ridiculous to them. What spell could they even use to beat the prince of hell? Summon a puddle of water and get him to slip?

Diavolo glares down at MC, but MC doesn't waver, glaring right back at him. Neither took another step forward, waiting for the other to strike first so they could claim self defense. Diavolo cracks first, giving a short chuckle.

"If I were to kill you right now, Lucifer might come in and try to kill me." Diavolo comments with a side glance at the door. "Although I should be more concerned about Beelzebub getting the drop on me."

"If I so much as scratch you, Barbatos is going to hang me like a flag on top of RAD." MC grimaces at the thought- they'd be lucky to already be dead by the time Barbatos strings them up. "I hope you know I'm not going to make it easy for you to kill me."

"I never said I wanted to kill you MC."

"Cracking my skull REALLY doesn't feel like friendly banter."

"And attacking me in my home does?"

"I-I," MC catches themself right before they can cuss him out. "Don't twist the events. I came to your house outside of my responsibilities to the program. I offered you my time and knowledge because you wanted to learn about the human realm. I opened up to you- as a friend- and you mocked me!"

"I didn't mock you," Diavolo protests, but Mc doesn't let him get far.

"You laughed in my face, treated me like a child because of something that you didn't understand!" MC doesn't shout, but their agitation is clear to Diavolo. "Maybe I did over react, but you're not off the hook either."

"MC, I didn't mean to belittle you," Diavolo takes MC's words to heart, running through the fight again in his head. "I certainly didn't mean to crack your head open, but I still think an apology is in order.

"It's hard to believe we're speaking the same language." MC shakes their head with a heavy sigh. " Both insulted and expecting an apology, but neither wanting to give one."

"I'll apologize-"

"Oh would you?" MC scoffs. "Would you apologize to me as Diavolo, or as the prince? Am I another bullshit formality for you?"

"I'm sorry I overreacted. Lord Diavolo, I am sorry that I attacked you in your own home." MC's words are genuine, but Diavolo notices they're still upset. "Exactly what kind of relationship do you hope to build with the human realm if you turn your nose up at issues just because you don't think they're serious enough?"

The prince stands there for a moment, turning MC's words over in his head. Was the attack childish? Yes. Would any other royal have killed MC on the spot for their actions? Probably. But 'not killing someone' isn't good diplomacy. Diavolo thinks back to all of the times MC's had to adapt to the ways of the Devildom, how many events they were clearly uncomfortable in , but had stayed because he had asked them to learn their culture. While he couldn't remember what MC was talking about before the fight, he won't forget the way their face lit up and the joy they radiated talking about it. He wanted to see that joy again.

After decades of fake smiles and shallow friendships, Diavolo can't tell when he's being disingenuous. Where others would beg for forgiveness, MC stood their ground and called him out for his behavior and even acknowledged their own fault in the problem. They'd even extended the first olive branch.

As a friend, the prince, and head of the exchange program, Diavolo has failed his first test.

Diavolo comes up to the podium, extending a hand to MC. "I guess we both still have communication barriers to work through. It wasn't my intention to dismiss you, and I never wanted to talk down to you, but it's going to take me some time to see your point of view."

"So," MC shakes his hand, although still a bit dissatisfied with his answer. "Prince Diavolo, will the exchange program lose one of its students today?"

"No, I don't think it will."

#Ending 3: to mend a bond #(the original ending)#om cyoa #word count: 725

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znarikia · 21 days

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What's your favourite soulsborne and what lessons do you think similar games should take from it?

Either the original Dark Souls or Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice. I'll start with the latter.

What made Sekiro feel so good is that it took the combat system and honed it to perfection, stripping away the chaff. (Almost) everything fed into the way deflection worked, rewarding high skill players with a very high skill ceiling. Kusabimaru's name tells you its value, it is the lynchpin of how you interact with enemies, be it offensively or defensively, not that there's a true difference. Even as an enemy like Owl or Isshin bears down on you, if you're good, if you're perfect, you cut into them, inverting their strength into an opening. You only need to attack offensively a handful of times in such fights, for they will have broken themselves upon you. Movement was a means to an end, to either deal with what couldn't be deflected or to get into range. Shinobi tools were limited in how many times they could be used in a fight, best serving as a way to augment Kusabimaru's shortcomings. The first time the fight against Genichiro Ashina clicked for me, it was a high that I've experienced in very few games. It only took me four attempts to beat Isshin the first time, because by that point in the game I understood and felt Kusabimaru as an extension of Wolf.

In short, I think what games should learn from Sekiro is to do one thing and do it well. As for Dark Souls? Hmm. That's a tougher question to articulate.

In a lot of ways, what makes DaS1 charming for me is its lack of polish, or maybe its faith in the player, though those are hard to distinguish. It's coarser than later entries, largely lacking signposts. The lack of fast travel until the midpoint, the amount of interconnectedness, and the density of it all gives the world a grounded, weighty feeling. Very little space goes to waste in DaS1, and when you're confronted with an open area there's stuff there, items and enemies. If you're not careful, you can aggro a whole mob of enemies while trying to grasp the flickering lights of distant items, making even an open area feel unbearably claustrophobic. It's not just the physical world, either, there's the way that the story of the world isn't really explained, only mentioned in passing or hinted at, lending so much more gravitas to what you do get. Some of this is intentional, some is the result of the game's troubled development. Then there's the esoteric mechanics it has. The game was so experimental. Some of it worked and worked as intended. Some of it didn't work, despite working as intended. Some of it didn't work because it didn't work as intended. Some of it worked, but not as intended.

Now, the problem with all that is that it's vibes-based and hard to recreate.

DaS3 got close, but that's a direct consequence of it fellating DaS1, and even then it's hampered by FromSoft being more experienced at their jobs and being more knowable on account of being DaS1 again. DaS2 got close in world feel, despite its world being weaker, but fumbled it in how it felt to play, but that's another post entirely. Unfortunately, I have never played Bloodborne so I can't compare it. Elden Ring was too big, showed too much. It was too complete. Sure, it left questions, but for the most part these questions aren't the result of questions. Usually, when you ask a question of Elden Ring, you find an answer if you look. Elden Ring solemnly nods and launches into a prepared spiel, because new Tarnished unfamiliar with the Lands Between turn up all the time so half the characters have an FAQ ready to go. DaS1 cocks its head at you like you're weird for not knowing already before tutting about the effects of hollowing on memory.

Do I think other games should be taken out of the oven before they're done? No. Would I have been less enchanted with DaS1 if it had been cooked all the way through? Yes. But I think I can articulate what I like about DaS1 better than that, having typed up a whole bunch of shit and deleted it.

The world in DaS1 makes you feel small. It doesn't exist for you, you're a tourist without a guidebook asked to kill a couple gods and take their place, please and thank you. The same pitch had been given to an unknowable amount of undead before you. It's the same for Sekiro, you're just trying to do your job while everything falls apart around you. You don't feel small in DaS2 once you realize it hates you. The whole wide world itself hates the Bearer of the Curse. DaS3 is coy about it. You're just dregs, but the world itself acknowledges that sometimes even Ash is special, because, well, the fucking Chosen Undead did it way back when, and who ever thought that would happen? In Elden Ring, the gods themselves are small, pawns for gods greater than themselves, but reality will still bend around them, a Lord is a Demigod, and you inevitably become a Lord.

I guess, in essence, sometimes it's fine to be small.

#dark souls #sekiro #sekiro: shadows die twice #I feel like I STILL poorly articulated why DaS1 feels different from the rest

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buckybarnesdiaries · 3 years

Text

a piece of cake

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Something happens at Shuri's birthday party that leads to a heated fight.

word count: 3k words. (fuck, it worth every damn word)

warnings/tags: nsfw, +18!!! angry jealous sex, let's start there. unprotected sex, oral sex (face fucking and ridding), fingering, brief daddy!kink, brief praise!kink, language, cursing, handcuffing, mention of bodily fluids, and probably i'm forgetting something else, i just lost my mind. bucky being the cutest and loving man on earth at the end.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

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You had never been so quiet, but you knew that opening your mouth only could cause a storm inside the car, on your way back home. Believing you could have a pinch of luck, Bucky wouldn't notice that something was raving you mad since the moment you watched him letting another woman give him a spoon of cake. Straight to his mouth. You almost choked on your drink, talking to Shuri about how excited she was to celebrate her birthday in New York, when you witnessed the scene hearing their laughs and watching how they dared to touch his metal arm constantly. Your boyfriend was talking with some of his old friends from Wakanda, not even knowing he made friends there. He never said a word about it. Even so, they didn't have the right to flirt with him. Unless he didn't say anything about you.

But Bucky wasn't stupid. Or at least, not like you thought. Gazing you by the corners of his blue eyes, he was conscious that something was going wrong. He licked his upper lip briefly, slowly. He tasted the waters putting a hand on your thigh, which was your favorite gesture while he was driving, deriving with your fingers laced and him placing kisses on the back of your hand. But you didn't move an inch, still staring through the copilot's window with your elbow nailed there and your chin resting on your knuckles.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing”.

Your passive tone and the lie as a response caused him to frown, pulling over the car to focus on you. He turned on his seat and placed a hand behind the headrest of yours.

“Spit it”.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow ironically, looking at him for a second. If he had to ask it was because he wasn't really seeing the dilemma there.

“I'm just tired and I wanna go home, James. That's all”.

James. James. You did it unconsciously, but he didn't take it as an innocent manner of calling him. Unexpressive, the soldier joined the highway driving faster than he used to. You had pissed him off, but it wasn't your problem. He had hurt your feelings with something he didn't give any importance to. The only thing you wanted was to take a shower, put on your comfier pajamas and go to sleep, probably you'd see tomorrow that situation differently than today and you could move on from your insecurities and the jealousy running through your veins.

You arrived at your apartment in record time, keeping the car inside the parking under the building. You removed the seat belt to wear your leather jacket and grab your purse on your feet, stepping out when you were ready. But Bucky stayed inside, just turning off the engine. He didn't have any intention of leaving it, maintaining his hands tightly gripped around the wheel. You ignored him as soon as you couldn't pretend you were just tired anymore. It was the first time something like that happened and you were having a strong desire to throw your guts up.

Three minutes later you were under the warm water with your forehead resting against the cold wall and your eyes closed. Maybe you were overreacting and the rational, mature behavior would be to go to talk with him, tell your boyfriend what made you feel upset. Sighing as you nodded two times, determined to put the cards on the table, you shut off the faucet and walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

“Oh, fucking hell!” You growled because of the scare of your life when you found Bucky already in your shared room.

He had his back supported on the wall, a leg flexed, and his hands behind himself. No expression on his face, but expecting an explanation from you. You were hoping for something from him too, maybe I don't know what I've done to make you feel like that, can you give me a clue? He just stared at you in silence, drying the pearls of water decorating your body before wearing a pair of black panties and your forgotten pajamas instead of one of his t-shirts impregnated on his scent.

“Com'ere”. Bucky whispered, stretching his flesh hand on air when you were about to go to sleep.

“No”.

Well, that wasn't the proper way to talk like grown adults. You crossed both arms on your chest, standing next to your side of the bed.

“What'd you say?” He squinted incredulous, slowly standing from the wall, pretending you hadn't uttered that word.

“I said no, you fucking punk”.

“The hell d'you think you're talking to, darling?”

“To the cretin who let other women flirt and touch him”. You replied with evident annoyance. “Why don't you go to show them your daddy's skills, uh? Sure I can find someone who respects me in the meantime”.

Suddenly, a grimace you hadn't seen before on him appeared like a thunderbolt. You weren't sure if you just made him feel more furious or if you just broke his heart. But before you could figure it out, Bucky shorted the distance between both in two fast strides and his hands gripped your throat and the back of your neck respectively, pinning you to the closest wall and tossing the lamp on your nightstand to the floor. You complained slightly —with his tongue wildly invading your mouth— because of the strength he used to put you against the wall.

You tried to push him away, to not fall into his charmings, but he made your mind blank when his fingers were firmly nailed in your ass and his body was accommodated between your legs. Your fiery provoked a bulge under his pants so painful that in every rock against your core he wasn't sure if it hurt or if it was some kind of pleasure he couldn't handle. Out of breath, Bucky attacked your neck, digging his teeth in your neck with so much passion that you screamed delighted his full name while pulling his hair. That gesture drove him insane, losing the less sanity he had at that point. With just a push, your boyfriend ripped off your shirt to strip you, in anticipation of your panties suffering the same fate.

Bucky threw you to the mattress on your abdomen, perfectly positioned to what was about to happen. He was so eager, so desperate for showing you what he was feeling that he didn't lose time taking off his clothes, just undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans to pull them down to his ankles along his boxers. You heard him spitting in his hand to use it as lube, although you were sufficiently soaked and ready for your Buck that neither of you needed his saliva. He rammed his dolorous erection into your cunt, crashing his pelvis and pressing it against your ass with all his strength, causing you to drown a loud cry in the sheets.

Tangling his fingers with yours and lacing your arms around your neck, putting all his weight onto your back, Bucky pounded you with an insanely quick rhythm, not giving you any chance to mold your throbbing walls around his length. Your pleased vocals echoed inside your room in total sync with the hits to your g-spot. Your body received with every one of them soft cramps mixed with pain and pleasure, making you roll your eyes and tear your throat.

“'S that wh— what you wanted, uh?” Bucky snarled against the back of your neck, totally gone, not giving you a break or showing any mercy.

“Fuck, no…” You replied, challenging him.

He swallowed a rough moan, wrapping his cold fingers around your throat while using the other to pull back your hair and arch your body. “Don' fucking… lie to me, doll… You wan— wanted your daddy to make you… feel desired over tho— those women”.

And yes, he was right. More or less. But you didn't expect him to react like that. Bucky was rabidly fucking you, moving the bed from its position with every angry thrust into your pussy. You knew you weren't going to last for too long if he continued impaling you against the mattress, just like that. But you both had to recognize that it was the best session of sex of your life.

“You were… fucking mad watch— watching 'em touch my arm… your arm, right?”

You whined at the brutality he used to push his hard cock beyond your limits, holding it there as he tilted your head to crash his lips on yours. Bucky devoured them until they were shiny, swollen, slightly ached because of the bit he left on your bottom one.

“If you don't tell me… the truth… I swear I'm not gonna let you come”. The whisper fell into your ear with such a raspy tone of voice, conscious of him being very capable.

“It was… your fucking fault, James. Not… Not mine”. You grunted, feeling him going a little deeper. “I di— didn't let anybody flirt with me… as if you didn't exist”.

That was the truth, but the wrong answer for him. Suddenly, Bucky pulled out his dick covered in your arousal, freeing you from any grip. A pause that only lasted the time he took to grab the handcuffs from your nightstand to place them in your wrists and secure them around the headboard. Now you were under his total control, defying him by strongly closing your legs and frowning at him, panting and sweating.

“Lemme tell you something”. Your boyfriend said, dangerously crawling over the bed till reaching your knees and forcing them to be separated, wide spread for him. “If you think I was flirting, but you didn't see… how uncomfortable I was… This situation is not my fault”.

The tables were turned as he finished his sentence, settling himself between your legs yet kneeling to raise your ass above his lap. “Not so mouthy now, are you, doll?”

You wanted to speak back, to say something after having a second to reconsider the reason why you were so angrier at him when Bucky pushed you down and rammed his dick back to the place it belonged. You forced unconsciously your hands gripped, wanting to put them on him —wherever—. As soon as he handcuffed you, your desire for touching him used to be suffocating. But you were the one who played from the start, instead of telling him how you were feeling about that situation at Shuri's party.

Bucky didn't even let you kiss him, stabilizing you on top with an arm around your waist and his cold hand holding the back of your head. His hips rocked straight to your g-spot once and once, making you lose any kind of control over your body as your boyfriend didn't have any compassion, needing to find relief to his sorrowful erection by cumming inside your clenching walls. You were driving him crazy, maintaining your eye contact at all moments and almost drinking your delighted, obscene crying, aware that only him could cause you to be so dirty.

“Feels good, uh…? You like it?” Your boyfriend brushed your lips with his, depriving you of his kisses or any other touch. “Bec— 'cause you take your daddy... so damn good, baby girl… So tight… so tight you could kill me”.

“Yes, da— daddy”. You whimpered nodding your head. “Only you… can fuck me li— like that… Only you”.

“That's it… that's it, oh, fuck… fuck, doll”.

You saw him roll that pair of beautiful blue eyes to the back of his head, feeling Bucky's thighs tensing under your legs. You didn't want anything else than making him cum, after overthinking about how he felt, and not about what you witnessed. He was right, more or less. He was still being so innocent in those kinds of situations that he used to feel like a scared kid.

You suddenly fell back to reality when the emptiness sensation invaded you. Bucky pulled out his length from you again, causing you to beg in silence for not denying you the orgasm you were about to reach. But he warned you. Bucky asked you to tell him the truth and you chose to challenge him. Letting you sit on the mattress, he flexed a leg to guide his twitching cock to your mouth, not needing to tell you what he wanted you to do. You just parted your lips, receiving him without protesting, curling your fingers when he forced your limits, and positioned both hands on your head. Twirling your tongue around his base as you could, with your cavity completely invaded, Bucky provoked you a strong gag. A gesture that led to his warm seed being spilled down your throat.

“Fuck my life, baby girl!” He couldn't help but howl driven by the pleasure as you coughed and made vibrate his sensitive skin.

Just holding his dick trapped by your lips for a second, he freed your mouth, taking his time to admire you swallowing his cum and showing afterward your tongue. God, you looked so beautiful disheveled, with teary eyes and swollen lips because of the effort.

“Want me to tell you something else?” Bucky asked while cleaning the sweat in his forehead with the back of his arm, taking the small key to liberating you with his free hand.

You didn't reply, not needing to, as he rubbed your wrists to comfort your skin before lying by your side.

“Com'ere”. He whispered, yet trying to recover your breathings. Bucky wrapped you with his flesh arm, rubbing his iron fingers up and down your tense belly, creating a contrast that caused you goosebumps. “'M so sorry for making you feel like that”.

He kissed you. Slowly, passionate, tasting his own juices mixed with your saliva. Caressing your tongue with the tip of his, and no rush. You felt his digits touring down your skin, till finding your throbbing and needed clit. You weren't able to hold back a sweet moan when he circled his fingertip over your sensible pearl, gladly drinking your vocals.

“When I wanted to react… she was putting that damn spoon into my mouth. It felt horrible, doll, I promise”. He murmured, venturing his long cold finger to part your folds and sink it inside you —moaning at the fulfill sensation—. “You always save me from those awkward situations… but you were having fun with Shuri and I didn't want to interrupt you”.

You were feeling like shit, looking at him through your eyelids as he curved a second finger into your cunt and increased the pace of the pounds with his hand made of vibranium. Bucky spread some gentle kisses all around your face, ending with a tender bite to your lips.

“When you told me you wanted to go home, I felt a huge relief… 'Cause that was everything I wanted. Go home with you. Maybe watch a movie… cuddle… fall asleep on the sofa”.

“Oh, God, Bucky”. You wept onto his mouth, as soon as a third finger filled you, nailing his hand in the perfect position to be moved up and down. “I'm so— sorry, Buck… I'm sorry”.

“Fuck, no”. He let out, thrusting you harder, faster, creating a melody of filthy sloppy sounds while your moans were louder and louder. “I should stop 'em, I didn't… I didn't. But I respect you more than anything, doll… I love you with all my heart. I care 'bout you, 'bout your feelings… Can you forgive me? Can you… Can you cum for me?”

You nodded your head running out of words, seeing your boyfriend snaking his body down the bed to between your shaky legs, yet having his fingers knuckles deep inside you. “Keep 'em open for your man”.

The blow to your abused cunt provoked you a lash up to your backbone, landing your hands on his head as Bucky sank his face straight to your center. His digits fucked you savagely, while his tongue took control of your swollen pearl —sucking, licking, kissing, pulling it back—. He wasn't going to deny that pleasure to you, quite the opposite. You pressed unconsciously his face a little closer to your pussy, swinging your hips and riding his mouth when his caresses and his pushes became too much for you.

Bucky made you cum harder than ever, crying his name till you didn't have any strength and you were just a sack of bones under his expert mouth, devouring you and drinking your juices as if it was the elixir of life. And when he was satiated, you glanced at him using the tip of his tongue to trail a path up crossing your abdomen, the gap between your breasts, your throat, until kissing you again getting comfortable on top of you. It was a kiss full of love, and guiltiness, and necessity, and pure devotion for you.

“Did I hurt you with what I said?” You murmured, still enraptured by the fireworks fluttering within your belly.

“This isn't 'bout me”. Bucky clicked his tongue, hiding his face into your sweaty neck. “This is 'bout what I let happen”.

“That doesn't answer my question, Buck… I'm sorry about what I said. I was just… I feel insecure". You confessed stroking his scalp and back with your hands, lacing your legs together. “I didn't mean it. I would never try to… find someone who respects me more than you do. That's impossible. And not talking about how much you love me”.

“I love you with every inch of myself”. He swore, he promised, raising his face to look straight at your eyes. “I can't imagine a life without you”.

“Me either… Your love makes me feel alive”.

Bucky left one last tender kiss on your lips before suddenly standing up and holding you onto his arms to carry you to the bathroom and take a shower together —wash your hair, worship your body again as if it was the last thing he was going to do—.

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pennyl4n3 · 3 years

Text

The Pool

*Taking a deep breath*

Well well well, this is my first fanfic (or should I say second or third? Btw, this one came to a conclusion) and I've never been much into writing, but Duskwood and all of you fantastic people in the fandom here brought me to this. I hope you like it, and of course I look forward to your comments and feedback.

Pairing: Jake x MC

Contents: Angst, Sadness, Fluff, Romance

It had been three months since his last contact with her. He'd had to disappear from the radar, the government breathing down his neck. Every day he fought the urge to write to her; he couldn't risk putting her in danger. He couldn't even risk reading her conversations at the moment, so he was as blind as she was.

He didn't know where she was, if she was okay, if she was mad at him, though after all this time he imagined she was. The last time they had written to each other she was in Duskwood and he had every intention of finally catching up with her. Things hadn't gone as planned unfortunately, and the deal he was trying to make with the government had fallen through, forcing him to become a fugitive again.

He was exhausted, he was free and yet he felt imprisoned in an endless loop. Ever since he had met her he had realized how heavy his condition was to bear, how much he missed talking to someone in person, how much he longed to get out without having to disguise himself. He wanted to move, to run, to be outside, and above all else he wanted to run to her, and hold her, look into her eyes, tell her in his voice how much he missed her.

While he was lost in these thoughts he scrolled through their last conversations, rereading every word and every comma. At one point he found the conversation in which they had talked about one of MC's great passions, swimming. He barely knew how to float, he had never had a chance to learn it as a child, and on that occasion he had promised himself he would try it someday. MC had told him about a public pool in her hometown that was easy to get into at night through a gate with a broken lock. She had gone there many times, when she needed to relieve her nerves and to be alone. Suddenly Jake felt the urge to see that pool, and set about finding it. Amazingly it was a couple of blocks from where he was hiding, the next step was to check the security cams near the building and along the way. He could do it without too much difficulty, and he really needed to get some air and some purpose, so he slipped on his sweatshirt, pulled on his hood and mask, and set off.

He arrived within minutes, constantly looking around. The streets were practically empty, but caution was never too much. The pool was a low building, all on one level. Mentally following MC's directions he managed to find the little gate, behind some bushes. It was still broken, unbelievable. Curiosity was stronger than him and he continued towards the entrance. His footsteps echoed in the hall, as he went down the few steps that led directly to the pool floor, the smell of chlorine filled his nostrils. Even though it was night he could see almost all of the interior well, thanks to the huge windows that almost reached the ceiling and let in the illumination of the street lamps, just as MC had told him.

He sat on the steps and stayed there for a while, lost in his imagination, even though he had never seen MC, enjoying that moment of peace, and trying to imagine her doing something that made her feel good...

A noise outside startled him, he ran off the steps and flattened himself against the wall. He waited in silence, his nerves on edge, his heart in his throat, his eye searching for possible alternatives escape routes. another metallic noise, and the angry meows of two cats fighting each other. Jake breathed a sigh of relief but waited vigilantly for a while longer before heading for the exit with shaking legs. When he returned to his shelter, he promised himself he would never try it again, but that was not to be. He returned there two more nights, until he decided to get a swimsuit and try swimming.

And so Jake found himself inside the pool, scared and unsure at first, but after a few minutes he began to feel the benefit of being in the water, the lightness provided by its support. He knew it wouldn't last long, but he continued to go there as many nights as he could. He would return to his hut tired but satisfied, and he could even get a decent night's sleep.

One evening he was trying to swim as usual when he heard a female voice saying jokingly, "well, I thought I was the only one who knew this place, but apparently not." Jake froze, almost having a heart attack. He was in the water, there was no way to escape. He drew a deep breath, thinking that it was anyway dark enough, and that his features weren't clearly visible, and decided to try not to look too suspicious. "Yeah, apparently not" he replied, trying to keep his voice from shaking. The girl smiled, or so it seemed to him, and continued, "I guess you like to be here alone, just like I usually do, but I could really use a swim tonight. I'll go in the back lane, I swear I won't bother you. Is that okay?" "O-oh yeah, yeah, go ahead," Jake mumbled, trying to hide his face as much as possible, and stood watching her as she made her way to the other side of the pool, still shocked that there was another human being in the same room as him. He realized that he was staring in her direction, and decided to start swimming again. After a while he stopped, out of breath and with tired arms, and saw that the girl instead was still swimming, at a brisk pace, and giving no sign of wanting to stop. He got out of the water and sat on the steps, wrapped in his towel, trying to catch his breath. Watching her was hypnotic, she moved with fluid movements, slow and steady. He wondered if MC swam like that too. How he wished he could have written to her to tell her he was swimming, or at least trying to, and to thank her for letting him discover this wonderful new experience as well. Since he had met her, his life had taken on a new light, where before only greyness and despair reigned.

His phone made a sound, bringing him back to reality. It was time to go home. He dressed quickly and headed for the exit, he didn't want to interrupt the girl's concentration, and he didn't intend to introduce himself, so better that way. Once back at the shelter he went back to work on his laptop, while eating a sandwich. Concentration continued to leave him that night, however, as the encounter with the stranger had brought him back to MC in a big way.

He returned to the pool the next evening, yearning to tire himself out and find some peace of mind. Once he got to the door he heard the sound of water coming from inside, he carefully pushed his way across the threshold, trying to figure out who was there and was relieved to see that it was again the girl he met the night before. He walked over to his side of the pool and removed his clothes as he cast furtive glances at her. He dove into the water and began to swim, trying to focus on his breathing, which was the part he struggled with the most. When he emerged with bated breath, he saw the girl standing at the edge of the pool and winced. "Hi, I didn't mean to scare you. I've been watching you swim and I thought I could give you a few tips, if you don't mind" Jake was so amazed and scared that for a few seconds he could only stare at her with his mouth open. "I-I...I don't.... " she giggled softly and shrugged her shoulders "Ok, look, I didn't mean to embarrass you...I'm going back to my lane. If you want it you know you can ask it okay?" And she turned to go back to her lane. "Wait. Yes, please I will gladly accept your help." Jake said. She retraced her steps and squatted down beside the edge of the pool with a smile on her face. "So, first let's start with your upper body, I've noticed that you move it a lot between strokes and that wastes your energy and breath. Try to stand up straighter, your arms and legs do most of the work. Then, every time you pull your arm forward, you can inhale if you feel the need to, and slowly you'll find yourself pulling two strokes, then three, and so on, but don't be in a hurry. If you take care of your technique well, managing your breath will already be easier." Jake was focused on her words and nodded, before turning around and trying again. Following her advice actually felt like he was already doing better. A wave of satisfaction ran through him when he managed to do his usual laps without getting breathless. He emerged smiling and sat on the edge of the pool. She was still there and looked at him approvingly, then asked "Better now, isn't it? "Yes, thank you very much." He answered. "Thanks to you, I'm just back in town but I'm not having much contact with the rest of the world, helping you was a pleasure" "I... I understand, I didn't have much contact lately either". A slightly embarrassed silence fell between them. It was Jake's phone that broke it, by emitting an alarm tone. Jake got up quickly and headed for his bagpack. "I, uh, have to go now, thanks again for your help." She looked at him briefly, nodded, and stepped back. "Oh, yeah, sure, no problem. Well, good night then" and walked back to the pool. "Good night" he replied, and as soon as she turned around, he changed his wet swimsuit with dry clothes and headed quickly to the exit.

As he walked down the street, he wondered if he wasn't risking too much by going to the pool regularly, and by confiding in that unknown girl. He then decided that it would be better to avoid it for a while, even if it was with great regret.

Jake avoided the pool for a few days, but eventually decided to go back. He couldn't wait to get there. As he walked the short distance between his hiding place and the pool, he mentally savored the feel of the water, the smell of the chlorine, the relaxation it gave him to swim until his muscles ached. As always, he sneaked up on the hidden entrance, his senses all out to catch any suspicious movements or noises. That evening, however, he heard no suspicious noises as he entered the large room with the tanks, but a soft sobbing. He listened for a while, trying to distinguish where the crying was coming from. When he spotted the silhouette of the mysterious girl on the steps he felt a tug at his heart, and could not help but go near her.

"Hey, is everything okay?" he said softly.

She looked up with a jolt, and when she recognized him she answered a little annoyed: "What do you think? No, everything is not okay." She immediately realized she had been abrupt, and added in a tone of apology, clutching her knees to her chest: "Sorry, I didn't think you would come, I haven't seen you here in a while and you caught me off guard..." "It's okay, no need to apologize. I guess I interrupted an intimate moment of yours. It's just that hearing you cry made me worried somehow." He replied to her as he blushed, realizing what he had just said. "I-I meant...well I mean, sorry if I m-maybe I embarrassed you, I should probably go and..." hinting back. "No, wait. Please stay. If it's not a problem for you of course. I don't really feel like being alone anymore." she said as she reached out a hand towards him and motioned for him to sit beside her. Jake was tense, the last thing he had expected that night was to find himself consoling the mysterious girl, but he certainly couldn't leave her there alone, she had always been very kind to him and he was sincerely sorry to see her sad. He exhaled a deep breath and went to sit next to her as he pulled a handkerchief from a pocket of his backpack and handed it to her. "Thank you," she said with a smile, "I really appreciate it." For a while an awkward silence descended, during which they both stared at their hands. Suddenly she blurted out "You know, I'm worried about someone, that's why I was crying. I haven't heard from him in a while and I don't know what to think. I'm trying to move on, I promised him, and really, I'm trying so hard, but some days the weight of his absence is so hard to bear that I can barely get out of bed. Whatever I do the thought of him is with me. This is the only place I can find some peace, because swimming empties my mind b-but t-tonight..." her eyes glazed over again as she swallowed, trying to push back the tears. He had listened to her in silence until that moment, respecting her moment of venting, but when he realized she was about to cry again he felt he had to do something, so he passed his left arm behind her back and pulled her to him, gently holding her in an embrace. "I-I can understand it, you know? I promised one person I would move on too. But it's so hard. I want to call her, I want to write her, I want to know how she is doing, where she is...but every day I forbid myself to do that. And I know I owe it to her, because she doesn't deserve to keep feeling bad because of me and my mistakes and..." his voice faded away, as he realized that he was risking to say things he shouldn't have said, he recovered quickly trying to cut it short and not to let the tremor in his voice be heard "...and I understand you, that's it. I miss her so much too."

As they stood in silence, his heart running fast in his chest and he desperately looking for something else to say, he felt her draw back into his embrace and sigh. It felt good to have her in his arms, and feeling her calming down warmed his heart. It had been so long since Jake had touched anyone, not really talked to anyone, hardly remembered what it was like. A little later she said softly, "Thank you. For sharing a little piece of you with me. You don't need to talk about it if you don't feel like it, I understand. It's... " she stopped thoughtfully, "Complicated" finished Jake. "Yes, yes exactly! It's damn complicated. But knowing that someone can understand me makes me feel better." then she turned to him and drew a deep breath, then added, "Well, how about a swim? After all, this is what we both came for." Jake nodded and removed his arm from her shoulders. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He got up from the steps and walked over to the usual little corner where he used to change his clothes, while she headed to her pool lane and dove in. Once he slipped into his swimsuit, Jake entered cautiously, still pensive from that brief but intense exchange of confessions.

He slowly dived down to the bottom and stayed there for a while, still immersed in his thoughts. He had to stop those nightly outings. They were already dangerous in themselves, and now this unknown girl had been added, making him talk too freely. All of his inner alarms were telling him it was time to stop, and it was also time to change hiding places again, even though being so close to a place in MC's heart made him feel closer to her.

A movement to the side of his field of vision brought him out of his thoughts, and out of the pool as well. When he got to his feet he ran a hand over his eyes and pulled his hair back so he could see better, turning to face the source of the movement. He saw her in the aisle next to where he stood, staring at him. "A-are you ok?" said him in an uncertain voice. She giggled and replied, "I was going to ask you the same thing, you weren't coming up out of the water anymore." "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I scared you, I was just... well, reflecting." he replied. She stared at him intently, looking at his black hair, stuck to the sides of his face, and said tilting her head "It's weird you know? You remind me so much of him, the way you behave somehow, I can't actually explain it". Jake blushed and swallowed hard. "I'll take it as a compliment" he replied, and stepped out of the water. "I have to get back. I hope you feel better now." continued, while heading to the bag of dry clothes. She stood staring at him, wondering if she had made him uncomfortable with that confession. When she realised he was about to undress she turned around, blushing. She waited for a while and then sat down on the edge of the bath and said with a smile, "Yes, I'm feeling better, thanks to you. Good night, stranger."

When he arrived to the hut, something alarmed him: some of the boards near the entrance were placed differently than he had left them. He quickly stepped into the shadows and took out his phone to check inside. Two men were sitting at his usual spot, peering at the screens. Jake was quick to slip back downstairs and to reach out his hiding place number two, three doors down. As soon as he was seated, he took his phone out of his jeans pocket and started the hidden cameras. The two men didn't seem to have any idea what they were looking at, and they didn't look like officers either, to be honest. Maybe two thieves? But what kind of thieves would break into an old warehouse with the windows covered by boards? What did they expect to find there? He carefully examined the video images from the cameras he had placed around the rest of the perimeter of the building and saw a couple of policemen in the back. "Fuck!" he whispered through his teeth. He prepared to format everything in the hiding place and stood vigilantly by, watching them alternately. The two intruders were probably hiding from the cops, and risked exposing him. He noticed that there was a car shop next door and decided to create a diversion. He quickly managed to hack into the shop's security system and set it to go off, so that the cops could be sent away. He then logged on to his workstation and simply brought up Nymos, some glitches and the words "intruders detected, defensive protocol activated" on the screens. It was more than enough to send the two of them running for the hills.

He sighed with relief, letting himself down on the makeshift mattress behind him. He stayed like that for a while as he listened to his heartbeat return to a normal rhythm, his adrenaline slowly subsiding, his breathing becoming regular. His stomach rumbled, so he reached into his bag and pulled out an energy bar. After an hour or so, he locked the entrance to the main hideout and went back the way he'd come: better stay there for the night. As he settled in for the night, streams of thoughts came over him. He realised that the idea of leaving MC hometown made him feel lost, even though she wasn't there, and it wasn't even certain that she would return. Still, he knew he had to leave, that evening's mishap was another proof of that. There wasn't much to think about really, he had to move again, maybe he'd come back later. He thought of the girl at the pool, of her pain, so familiar. How was it possible that love could always bring so much suffering? He drifted off to sleep with those thoughts in his head, and woke up restless.

The next morning Jake was almost done packing up all of his belongings and ready to go. He wondered if once he was settled into his new hiding place, he would find another pool where he could train undisturbed, so he set about identifying all the potential candidates. How he wished he could have told MC about this! As he scanned the pools and studied their surroundings it occurred to him that he could write her using a disposable phone before leaving. His hands began to shake at the mere thought of being able to write her again. Would she be happy to read it? Maybe she was angry with him. In their last conversation she had told him to at least let her know if he was alive as soon as he could. Before he could think about it too much longer, he stormed out of the room and headed for the first open store. Once he retrieved the disposable phone he went back to the spare hut and slipped into it with all his things. He turned on the phone and prepared it for use.

*??? is online*

Jake:Hello, MC.

Shortly after came the reply

*** MC is online ***

MC:Jake! Are you okay?

Jake:Yes MC, I'm fine. I apologize for not letting you hear from me again, it was too dangerous.

MC:That's okay, I'm so glad to read you now, I kept telling myself that you were definitely fine and that I shouldn't have written you, as promised

Jake felt his palms sweat.

Jake:You know, I've been going swimming lately. At night, on the sly. Your enthusiasm about it convinced me. You were so right MC, it can empty your mind. I wanted so hard to thank you for that.

MC:I went swimming recently too, at night, it kept me from going crazy. Maybe we swam at the same time

Jake: :)

Jake:And do you know where I was? The place you told me about. It was like I felt closer to you

MC squinted her eyes

MC:Jake... you don't mean that place with big windows almost to the ceiling,do you?

Jake:Yes, exactly that.

MC bursted in laugh and shaked her head in disbelief.

MC:And you didn't happen to meet someone? Like a really nice, kind girl who gave you lessons?

Jake felt his knees buckle and had to lean against the wall to keep from falling.

Jake:You...

Jake:Was that you?

Butterflies were spreading through his stomach.

MC:So you hugged me the other night! I was crying just for you, and you were there, this is crazy!

MC:Where are you now?

His eyes widened.

Jake:MC me, I was going to leave the town, last night I found intruders in my shelter, it's not safe for me to be here anymore.

For a time that seemed eternal to him there was no sign of life on the other end of the phone.

Jake:MC...

MC:Don't you dare

MC:Don't you dare leaving again. You've been staying here for days, and even allowed yourself to go out almost every night, and you never wrote me anything. Now that we might meet you're starting this again.

MC:We met by accident Jake! Does that seem normal to you???

MC:I'll be waiting there tonight, you better come

***MC is offline***

Jake stared at the phone bewildered. He was terrified. He couldn't believe he had hugged MC the night before. And she was crying, because of him. She was right, he couldn't leave again.

That night he went to the pool, almost running. He sneaked up on the hidden entrance, holding his breath, and went to sit on the steps where he usually rested his backpack. A short time later he saw her walk in and head towards him. It seemed to him that his heart was about to explode. He stood up and walked over to her. They both found themselves running to cover the final distance that separated them. They hugged each other tightly, and stayed that way, without speaking for who knows how long. Neither of them wanted to untie the embrace, as if to do so meant to lose themselves again.

At the end MC pulled back a little to look him in the eyes, and said, "I was beginning to think this moment would never come" "And instead we found each other without even knowing it" he replied chuckling. She blushed and rose on tiptoe to give him a light kiss on the lips.

"Shall we go for a swim?" she told him with a mischievous grin. "Sure. I've been taking lessons" he replied as he began to undress.

#everbyte studios #duskwood game #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood music #duskwood everbyte #duskwood #duskwood jake x player #duskwood fanfic

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kitasfox · 3 years

Note

FIRST OF ALL i love ur blog. second, can i request something with soft dom oikawa , he lets u top for once and he’s praising u all cutely and being sweet but then gets impatient and starts taking control again .. saying stuff like “hmm? i thought u could handle it?” or something WHEEEW ! thank u mlady💗

thirst with me

(send me any thirst or request!! They're open <!)

a/n: thank youuu!! I know you sent this long ago, I'm really sorry it took me a while to answer </3 I hope you like it, though!

THIS POST IS NSFW! Minors do not interact or I'll bite.

Warnings: smut.

"Pull his hair."

You never thought that piece of advice would have you... here.

The moment your fingers had threaded through your boyfriends' soft locks, pulling on them enough to have his eyes facing the ceiling, you knew Iwaizumi was right. Oikawa did have a weak spot, and it was his hair.

You smile cruelly.

Lately, you had noticed Oikawa had started to drift away. You knew it wasn't intentional; you knew he did this whenever he got stressed, trying to isolate himself so he wouldn't break your heart.

He wouldn't let you approach him, in no way but one.

So when you'd approached his best friend, asking for advice, he had told you three simple words. "Pull his hair."

A smile spreads on his lips. It's a mock grin that tries to hide the lust in his brown eyes. "What do you think you're doing, baby?"

He's such a good actor, too; you would've believed him if it wasn't for the way his cock twitched against your thigh, it almost takes him seconds before you feel the tip of his hard cock rubbing against your skin as you pull as hard as you can on his pretty hair.

Fuck you. Iwaizumi was right.

"Just trying something." You shrug, smiling mischievously as your lips meet the skin of his neck, teeth grazing and making him tremble. "You know, I've always wanted to see you as my bitch, Tooru." You purr his name, making him mutter a soft ah at your words. Your tongue slides over his skin; he tastes sweet, "Beg me to make you cum, just as you do to me all those other nights."

"You wish- wait, fuck!"

You push his body down on the bed, settling your body atop his, subtly grinding over his aching cock and making him moan even louder, his eyes rolling in the back of his head, mouth falling open as you keep grinding over him.

Your teeth bite into the skin where it has him almost cumming on the spot, the neediest whine you've ever heard making its way out of your boyfriends' abused lips.

"What was that, baby?" You tilt his chin up so he'd face you, face contorted and falling forward, face slightly damp with a sheer layer of sweat. "Is it too much?"

To mock him is the best part about it, to watch his brows pinch together in a vain attempt to take control back, trying to fight back and failing with you only pulling harder on his hair, listening to his broken moans.

"Let go of my hair already, woman," he protests, gritting his teeth, eyes rolling back slightly. "I know you're scared to lose control when you give away your one strength." Oikawa adds smugly right after, whispering seductively against your lips, appearing to have gained control at least a bit.

"But I'll let you have fun. You seem excited," Oikawa gives you a cocky smile. Even with the situation he's in, he never fully gives in, "you've always wanted to do this, didn't you? Have me panting your name like this- you really think you can dominate me?" His gaze falls to your lips, and for a moment, Oikawa regains control, but it's short-lived ay your fingers threading on his locks pull on them mercilessly.

"Sounds like you're panicking, Tooru." You coo at his pained whimper, one laced with a moan. He sounds so sinful, so pretty as he tried to keep his composure and fails.

"W-wait-" he chokes on the breath he inhales as you finally pull his cock out of his briefs, the grey material now adorned with a black patch in front.

"Can't you handle it, sweet boy? If you can't, tell me now and I'll stop." You grin, watching him deny your accusation with a fervent shake of his head.

He's pulsing between your fingers, the red tip leaking; you suppress an awed smile as he squirms and trashes beneath you when you all but swipe your thumb over it.

"Just like that- mmh! You're gonna show me my place, huh?" Oikawa grins at you feverishly, "gonna make me beg for you to fuck me? Come on, show me h-ah- show me what you can do."

He only encourages you as you start pumping him slowly, listening to the sighs falling from his lips, his hips humping the air as he tries to meet your hand.

You finally let go of his cock, pushing your body up till your pussy hovers over his leaking cock, lowering yourself enough to grind on his cock. The feeling of his tip grazing your clit sends electrifying pleasure up your body, and you think that might've been a... mistake.

"Ah, fuck-" His eyes close momentarily, a soft moan leaving his lips when you sit right on his cock. "Easy there, girl," he pants, "don't want you to hurt yourself there."

You feel his long fingers sink into the flesh of your hips, his body trembling beneath you when you grind on his length, a long moan of your name leaving his lips. "Look at you, pretty baby- ah, fuck! Topping me, huh? Did Iwa teach you that trick? Do you have any other under your sleeve? You know you'll need them."

His hands start wandering over your body as you keep grinding over his cock, seconds pass where you focus on your pleasure only and forget your mission. You get dizzy, panting hot breaths as you bring your pace even higher, not noticing his fingers that were back on your ass making their way to your-

"Tooru- wait, no-" You whimper as his fingers trace around on your upper thigh, making you gasp at the familiar touch. You try to push his hand away, you can't- can't give in, but he's always been rather persistent.

"Tooru, please!" You suddenly burst as his fingers ghosting over your clothed cunt, playing with your panties, teasing you over it, and laughing at how wet you are.

"C'mon, baby; you can do better than that." Oikawa grins at you when your grip on his cock gets looser, "I thought you were going to make me beg for you. It seems you're the one begging now."

"N-no, I-"

"No? Weren't you the one begging me just now? Isn't this your slutty little pussy quivering for me to fuck you? Just look at how wet you are-" he mocks you as he pushes your panties to the side, the cold air hitting your now naked core making you shiver. "I can't believe you thought you could handle me."

"I can handle you- shut- no wait!"

Before you even know it, you find yourself up in the air, and the next moment, your back lays flush against the warm sheets. You raise your gaze up to meet the predatory brown ones, looking at you with a blown-out grin.

"C'mon," he purrs against your face, lips hovering over yours only a breath away. "You had your fun- let me show you how it's really done."

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hq smut #hq x reader #oikawa smut #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #hq x y/n #oikawa x you #oikawa imagine #haikyuu x me #hq x self insert #hq x you #oikawa scenarios #oikawa tōru #hq oikawa

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mtfstuff · 3 years

Text

Departure and arrival

I'm working at the airport selling flowers and coffee. Not the best job but the shop is owned by my uncle so I have almost complete freedom. I always wanted to travel often, to work from different places all the time. Now I'm somewhat in hell. I'm so close to flights but I can never enter them as I have to work. I can only dream and watch people live it.

As I was daydreaming about flying away once more, a man caught my eye as his colorful pants separated himself from the rest.

He was tall, handsome, had a beautiful beard and well-groomed hair. He was wearing brown leather boots, light brown/orange pants and a grey shirt. It suited him very well. He was gorgeous for me. The complete opposite of me. I was chubby, started to lose hair, even though I'm only in my mid-twenties, and I dont really had a sense of fashion.

I was dreaming about how he was flying somewhere warm, where he gets to take of his shirt and flex his muscles on the beach. I was daydreaming even further as I realized that someone wanted to buy something. I snapped out of my dream and the man stood right in front of me with a big smile.

"One latte, please.", he said with a big grin. I had to retract my eyes from his handsome face and white teeth.

"Of course, one moment please.", I said, taking a paper cup and putting it under the coffee machine.

"Do you have a ticket?", I asked. I couldnt wait to see where he was travelling to. But he looked confused at me.

"If you have a boarding ticket, you can get everything cheaper in our store.", I clarified.

"Oh, yeah. I have one.", he said, taking out his ticket and putting it on the desk. "That's a really nice service you have here."

Was he flirting with me?, I thought.

I took the ticket, scanned it for his discount, looked at his destination and gave it back to him.

"Spain, what a nice destination. Especially as the weather here is pretty bad at the moment.", I said finishing his coffee. "May I ask for work or just for fun."

"Both.", he answered. "A bit of work but mostly just for fun."

I handed him the coffee and he paid.

"You look like you could use some fun too", he said leaving.

He definitely flirted with me, I thought.

I watched him go and dreamed about being him in Spain. To my surprise, he didnt go to the terminals to start the check in, but he went to the toilet. He opened the door, turned around and looked at me, raised an eyebrow and disappeared into the bathroom.

I was shocked and turned on at the same time. Did he want me to follow him?, I thought.

I looked around and decided to follow him. I told my uncle that I have to go for a short moment and he excused me.

I followed the man into the toilet but no one was there as I entered.

The man came out of a cabin and grinned.

"We're all alone. Come on, lock the door.", he said. And I did. I locked the main door from the inside so that we couldnt get disturbed. I may had no idea what he wanted but I was so horny for him that I didnt care.

"I saw your looks.", he said. "And you are completely my type."

"I'm your type? Come on, look at me. I'm fat. I'm totally not in your league.", I said a little intimidated.

He stepped towards me.

"Look.", he said running his hands over my a little too tight shirt. "I have a thing for chubby boys."

"Boy? Do I look So childlike?", I asked shocked.

"Well, you look a lot younger than me.", he said. "I'm Lucas by the way."

He grabbed my head and kissed me gently. I loved the feeling of his lips. They were so soft and his beard a bit scratchy.

Lucas took a step back.

"Strip.", he said. I was shocked as I thought that he would take them off. But I started anyways as I opened my laces, kicked off my shoes and took off my socks. I tried to take off my shirt but I was struggling with it. Lucas helped me getting it off and then continued with my jeans. He took them and my underpants off, leaving me naked in front of him.

He kneeled down and lifted my belly to start sucking my dick. It didn't take long until I moaned by the pleasure. It was the best feeling I ever had. His beard tingled slightly but his lips and mouth were a pleasant surprise. It felt as if this wasnt his first blowjob. He sucked further and further until I came. And he took it all in one gulp.

He stood up and we kissed aggressively until his back hit a highboy. He pushed me away, causing me to fall backwards. After that, Lucas pulled himself up onto the highboy with a big grin.

"And now you strip me.", he said holding his foot out for me.

I quickly took off his boots and socks. After that I opened his pants and pulled them down. To my surprise greeted me his hard dick instead of underpants. He giggled as he saw my surprised face. I continued by unbuttoning his shirt and taking off his watch and rings.

He got down from the highboy and turned me around. He hugged me from behind and layed his chin on my shoulder.

"You'll gonna like this.", he whispered into my ear right as I felt something getting stuck up into my butt.

"Oh, it's so tight. Is this your first time?", Lucas asked. I just nodded in pain.

The sound of my fat cheeks hitting his muscular hips filled the air.

He increased the pace with every thrust until he came. As he pulled out his dick, I felt how the pain became even stronger.

I was completely out of breath and I heard him panting too.

"Thanks, chubby.", he said.

As I turned around to face him, I saw that he already wanted to dress up again as he lifted his pants from the ground. I took them out if his hands and threw them back to the ground. He looked confused.

"Thats it? Really?", I asked furious.

"Well, I never said I wanted more.", he answered.

I stormed at him and we struggled to the ground. Lucas tried to fight me off and I tried to overpower him.

He managed to get out if my grasp and tried to stand up but I grabbed him by his ankle and pulled him back down. His fall must have hurt as he was panting on the ground after it. I quickly sat down on his back and secured his arms.

"You'll gonna like this.", I whispered in his ear.

"No, please. You dont have to do th-", Lucas didnt even manage to end his sentence as I pushed my dick into his hole.

"Uugh, fuck. It feels so much bigger than it looks.", he said. "Please - aagh - stop! It hurts so bad."

But I didnt stop. With every thrust I felt better and his hole became wider.

I grabbed him by his man bun and lifted his head.

"Its so tight. Is this your first time?", I asked him uppish.

He groaned under pain and nodded.

"You'll remember this day as the day when chubby got what he wanted from you.", I said letting go of his man bun.

I thrusted even faster until I shot my load.

Lucas cried silently as I shot my load into his hairy ass. As I wanted to pull out my dick, his cheeks tensed up, making my dick stuck. I tried to pull it out but my dick didnt move a single inch.

Only then I noticed that I didnt hear a thing from Lucas anymore. I lifted his head again to tell him to relax but he suddenly started to move uncontrollably. His muscles were twitching as if he had a seizure. I tried to relax him, but I passed out on top of him.

As I started to regain my consciousness, I felt the cold floor beneath me.

Looks like I fell off of Lucas, I thought. But then I felt something heavy on top of me moving. It stood up. I rolled around and opened my eyes to see my body standing in front of me. It looked as surprised as I was.

"What did you do?", it said looking down at me and then back at his body. "You stole my body, you little filth!", it said.

I didn't understand what he meant. Only as I tried to stand up I noticed my muscular arms and legs. I was now towering over my old body. I was in Lucas body.

He attacked me and we struggled again.

"You cant do this to me. I dont want to be chubby!", he started crying.

"This wasnt my intention. But now you wont get it back. I always wanted to have a body like this. I also thought that you had a thing for chubby bodies.", I said while overpowering him.

He fell to the ground.

"Stay down!", I said. "I'm now Lucas. I'll meet my best friend Jorge in Spain and you wont."

"Wait, how do you know...", Lucas stammered in my old body. "Oh god, I know your life too. Please we have to change back. I want to live my life, not yours."

"This is your life now!", I said. I slapped him so hard that I knocked him out. I was watching my old body for quite some time. I'll probably never see my family again, but thats okay if I'll stay in this body, I thought.

I put on Lucas clothes, inhaled his nice smell, took his luggage, unlocked the door and left.

I had the best time of my life in Spain. His job as a model was pretty easy and the rest of my time I've spent on the beach or at the park, showing of my new body. I'll never go back to where I was with my life before. Lucas is the best thing that has ever happened to me.

#body switch #male body switch #body swap #male body swap #male possession #male body transformation

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nicanario · 3 years

Text

this post is a product of its time

tw: discussion of racism, homophobia, misogyny and a short mention of sexual abuse.

ok, this is basically gonna be a very long rambling post about my not fully developed thoughts on the justification many people give to bigotry when talking about the past: "it was a product of its time"

it would be fair to say, with me being a raging SJW socialist scumbag, that I don't think this is a very good argument and is most of the time actually an excuse to not think about the problems inherent to our society, historical or not, and, by extension, the problems with ourselves. but I do think that sometimes, just sometimes, this can be a valid point, or at least one that raises some interesting questions.

I'm going to cite examples from several pieces of media, but fear not, I'll try to make this as accesible as I can.

so, let's take Star Trek: The Original Series (TOS) as our first case study. this show has, correctly, been called progressive by everyone except for clueless people who don't know much about Star Trek's history, Star Trek's crew, Star Trek's cast, or, frankly, Star Trek. because if you ignore the clear, sometimes in-your-face political history and present of the franchise, I don't think you know much about it at all. I do think you can call yourself a fan if you like it, you may have watched every single episode for all I know. but lots of mental gymnastics are needed to ignore the political progressiveness Star Trek has had since its very beginning.

episodes like Let That Be Your Last Battlefield are obviously anti-racist, at least in their intention. but the episode in question really is "a product of its time," and at the very end fails to uphold its ideals. the episode ends with the two aliens (who are LITERALLY. BLACK ON ONE SIDE. AND WHITE ON THE OTHER. BUT IN THE OPPOSITE SIDES.) fighting each other on their devastated planet, and the crew is like, "oh yeah if they both would give up on their hatred that they both share both of them equally" when it has been firmly established that one is the oppressor and the other one is the oppressed.

and that's a lot of Star Trek, not just TOS. even Discovery, one of the most recent series, has done Bury Your Gays (and Trans) TWICE (though both times literally rectified it, which is cool). there are episodes of the franchise that are overtly racist, or misogynistic, etc. TOS is lauded, mostly justifiably, as very progressive, especially for the standards of the time. they put a woman of colour as one of the senior staff, for fuck's sake. of course, when you analyse that same character, as with most of their intentions at being progressive, you'll see that she was relegated and sometimes even outright mistreated when she had the potential to be much more. but, at that time, it was a lot.

I had a friend (emphasis on "had") who, after I told him about TOS's both progressiveness and constant misogyny, told me something like "imagine feminists trying to complain about a show from the 60s." so, with unearned spite, he was, in some way, trying to make the argument that it was a product of its time.

you could say Star Trek, all of Star Trek, is "a product of its time" in the sense that it's not always perfect. uh, yes, I would agree. but that doesn't mean people have to accept it. well, I mean, the show is kinda over, you have to accept it's that way. but you don't have to accept that it's not wrong just because it was a product of its time.

H. P. Lovecraft, as another example, was a greatly influential writer whose works still shape a lot of people's ideas to this day. I have only ever read like one of his stories, so don't expect me to have an opinion on his works. but I can have an opinion on what I know about him as a person (he did have a life outside his writing, after all). and, yeah, he was a huge asshole. if you want to know more in depth about the subject, please watch Hbomberguy's video on him: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8u8wZ0WvxI

but basically, he was incredibly racist & homophobic. some people might even say, "he was a product of his time." well, there are two possible rebuttals to that. the surface level one, and the one that examines why that argument is wrong to the core.

The Surface Level Response to "it was a product of its time": um, no it wasn't. Lovecraft was more racist than a lot of people even in his time. he wasn't just a guy who carried the racist beliefs of his society like everyone else, he was a reactionary who actively thought and discussed how racist he was, and how right he was for being that way. but that's only applicable to Lovecraft. one can't argue the same for Star Trek: TOS, because TOS did try to be more progressive and more anti-racist than the rest of its society. that leads us to the next response.

The Response that Actually Deals with the Fact that No Matter How Progressive You're Trying to Be, Your Failings Can Still be Criticized: the thing is, trying to excuse Lovecraft's or Star Trek's bigotry because they were "products of their times" misses the fact that racism is still wrong, and some people knew that in those times as well. people from these times weren't all naive or stupid or whatever. they had the capacity for rational thinking. they could stop and think, "hey, maybe what we're doing is wrong." and the fact is, some people did. not perfectly, not to our standars, but they did. everyone could have stopped and think. but most of them didn't, and we can criticize them for it. racism, homophobia, sexism, etc. HURT PEOPLE. horribly. massively.

also, even if you agree with the "it's a product of its time" argument, some people aren't criticising people's or work's bigotry: they're explaining why they don't want to experience it.

The Talons of Weng-Chiang is a 1977 Doctor Who serial, and it's one of the show's more racist stories. almost all the villains are Chinese, every single Chinese person is a villain. there's yellowface, slurs, stereotypes, the Doctor speaking nonsense words instead of actual Chinese, and a general belittling of Chinese culture.

note that I'm neither Chinese nor of Chinese descent. I have been searching for hours for a few posts I've read a while ago (some by people who are of Asian descent) about this episode and I can't find them. sorry.

suffice it to say, even though I love Jago & Litefoot (the audio series and the characters), it's not an acceptable episode at all. but it's also important to remark that, because of it, some people aren't going to want to watch it. sometimes, people aren't saying "the episode shouldn't be this way," which causes others to answer that it was "a product of its time." sometimes, people are just saying, "this is an episode that attacks real people. I don't want to see it. I don't care if it was common in that era to be racist, i don't want to experience it."

however, there is an interesting point to the "it's a product of its time" argument. after all, everything is influenced by its society, for better or worse. and we can't change it anymore. TOS sometimes didn't quite understand the political themes it wanted to explore. Lovecraft was a horrible bigot. Talons was racist towards Chinese folks. and that's that. I don't think we should change the episodes/stories or anything. edit them in any way. that would be, in a sense, changing history. and we wouldn't learn anything from it, about how we can do better.

I think there are two solutions to this:

1. warnings before starting the text: this was done with The Talons of Weng-Chiang. on Britbox, where you can watch Classic Who, this serial has a content warning before the start. that's good.

2. the removal as a whole of the text from some places: I think before applying this one, there should be a lot of thought put into each case. I don't think removing a whole serial of Doctor Who or Lovecraft's stories from anything would be, well, fair. especially on tv episodes a lot more people worked on those, not just the writers and the directors. Lovecraft's writing influenced thousands. we shouldn't erase them or anything. but sometimes, for some cases, we should.

those in the US might seen a Confederate statue being taken down. that is, in a way, a form of removal of a piece of history.

but that is a good removal. statues glorify. one sees a statue and probably thinks "this was a person worthy of admiration." they should be taken down, maybe even with a permanent mark of why this was done (a plaque that reads "a statue of X was here, but he didn't deserve it because of Y" could be put in place of the statues, for example).

another example is the removal from DVDs of the short episode A Fix with Sontarans, a Sixth Doctor minisode that featured Jimmy Savile, a presenter who was later found out to be sexually abusing children.

the removal of that minisode is good, actually. it's not a full episode (it's not even Doctor Who). some might say that's "erasing history" but, like, you can still find it online or information about it if you want. this minisode deserves removal from DVDs and Blu-Rays and whatever more than content warnings. it's not an important part of the show and it prominently features a horrible person who did horrible things during that time.

so, after all that, I have explained why I don't like the "it's a product of its time" argument. it is an interesting point that deserves to be examined, but it's not very good.

I have had this in Drafts for so long I've probably forgot some of the points I was going to make, but eh, what can you do? hope you enjoyed reading this.

bye

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transsexualhamlet · 3 years

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Moriarty the Patriot + The Final Problem

aka another unecessary essay from ya boy on how yuumori, instead of taking away from the original text, adds meaning and depth to it

So I finally got around to reading the final problem after wading through all the memoirs of sherlock holmes and yes, I am in fact reading these because of yuumori. I wanted to see how it was portrayed, what the differences and influences from the original source were. I did end up getting incredibly attached to the original series too, so yeah... I'm glad to report that the original and adaption get along well.

And yeah, I have a lot of thoughts, most of them being just me generally praising yuumori. I think it was straight up genius how they pulled so much content from... well, frankly. The Final Problem was a 15 page short story tossed off by Doyle in order to have an excuse to be done with sherlock holmes, told from the perspective of someone who wasn't even there. And yuumori still managed to make it generally very accurate and complementary to the original, while still being, uhhhhh really fucking different, let's say that.

Read more because again, long essay

Just my observations on the final problem itself is that it is so underdeveloped and told from an outsider perspective. Because of that, so many questions go unanswered, and the reader gets a sense that they are only witnessing a very small part of what actually happened. Sherlock can't afford to go into detail on what Moriarty was even involved in, Watson isn't privy to what's honestly even happening most of the time, and Moriarty just... has this extensive network of organized crime that just isn't even talked about other than Trust Me It's Bad Bro. We don't know Moriarty's intentions, most of who he is, and more questions are honestly brought up than answered within the story. Sherlock knows, oh that's for sure, Sherlock knows what's going on and he has no fucking time to tell Watson. You get a sense that Watson himself isn't even telling all that went down.

So yeah, I can see where there's so much room to expand upon here, not even to change things or make it different because it would be cool, but there's so much that could be happening just within the realm of plausible deniability in the canon.

And I think that it's amazing how Yuumori chose to market itself that way- not as an adaption or reimagining- but that this was in fact the Real story, with Doyle's final problem being... honestly a bit of a cover up, a purposeful misrepresentation of a small slice of the full story. It lends itself completely to that, and I think that's amazing.

(One thing I do find funny is that in Yuumori the story "the final problem" is depicted as a full novella that could be published on its own... man it's not nearly long enough for that but I find it funny in any way)

Of course, there are elements of yuumori that are yknow, simply not realistically something that could have happened, but most of the story is actually within that range of plausible deniability since the canon is so vague and sparse. And since they state that things were changed on purpose to protect people and the moriarty plan, it basically covers that all as simply The Truth. It's well done, and very interesting, especially with the new anime ending taking them to Reichenbach itself.

Like, yuumori didn't even truly change the appearances of the characters, from the descriptions. (we're not counting the illustrations lol) like, Sherlock was never stated (as far as I can tell) to have a specific hair or eye color, hairstyle or such.... he was described as tall, thin, eccentric, messy, with like... long fingers and stuff. Man, yuumori did not go against that. With Moriarty it's different, though he was also reportedly Tall and Thin and Built Like A Yaoi Protag for some goddamn reason, he... you know, has these weird and unattractive features as well, which... in the context of Watson trying to portray Moriarty as unmitigated evil in order to protect the plan, were in this situation made up specifically to further the idea that he was just that.

Because of this situation, the Moriarty that is portrayed as yeah, a smart guy and a threat but seriously just A Bad Dude who seems to have no particular reason behind his actions save being A Bad Dude actually make more sense as a cover up behind a more dangerous secret of him having Real Feelings than the only stated reason being "he inherited being evil from his family". (like... watson, really?)

It explains the vagueness and the events and the weird connection between those two better than the original does, and that's really cool to me.

On their own, without yuumori to back me up on these things, reading this would have left me confused and depressed. But as a half truth immortalized as the real story, you get so much more out of it.

Especially these certain scenes:

When Moriarty just pops into Sherlock's house and they proceed to have a basically wordless conversation amounting to

"you know why I'm here" "you know how I'm going to respond" "well then" "here's date and time of our mutual destruction" "thanks I'll be there" "well I'll be off nice knowing you" "wow it sucks that we're enemies he's such a civil guy"

It just really adds something to that, don't you think?

And the subject of their fall itself, simply the fact that Watson wasn't even there. No one witnessed it. No one found even Moriarty's body. No one found evidence of anything at all.

All Watson could say was that Sherlock and Moriarty had gone up to the mountain together, Moriarty told Sherlock of his plans, let Sherlock write and leave a letter to Watson, and that they never came back down. So he came to the conclusion that they must have fought and both fallen off.... like, holding each other. Not really sure how they reached that conclusion, to be honest.

It doesn't even make sense, exactly told how it is. If Moriarty wanted to kill sherlock and survive, he would have just... brought a fucking gun. Or just pushed him off on the way up. As soon as he got him alone just fucking stab the man. It would have been that easy, but no, he had a whole ass convo with the man, they went up civilly side by side, and they stayed on the cliff a long time while Sherlock wrote that letter. Even then, Sherlock could have just waited to catch Moriarty off guard and pushed him off. But he didn't.

Why would they even have fought, if it was so scheduled? You telling me to believe that after this letter was written and moriarty stood there watching him sipping tea or whatever he was suddenly like "ok im ready to fight now", knowing they would both probably die, and if they were genuinely trying to kill each other and survive, that would even make sense?

Of course, these problems in the original stem just from Doyle no longer giving a shit and slapping this together after losing motivation for sherlock, he was obviously, not hinting at some great conspiracy in the slightest.

But damn, Yuumori really does change that all for you, huh. It adds a whole new layer of context to it. And I like it a lot, I like what they've done on their own, I like what they've done for the original stories, and I especially like what they've done telling the "real story" of this short, vague, mystery that otherwise leaves you feeling unsatisfied and confused.

#rowan's hyperfixation essays #moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #sherliam #sherlock holmes #rowan views moriarty

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lazarettta · 3 years

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Misthios IV

Characters (Spartan!Reader x Mother Miranda)

Rating (T)

Word Count (3.4k)

Warnings (none I don't think)

You're up roaming around the castle and run into Miranda and Alcina.

It's been an exhausting but thrilling six months since you've gained the eye of this region's reigning ruler. Their Queen was ruthless as she was beautiful and you were quickly learning that she had a particular taste for blood that you haven't seen since your days in Sparta. Creative and cunning as she was, especially when it came to acts of revenge, but she took care of her kingdom and her people so long as they were loyal to her and her alone.

It was that last rule that forced you to discover just how cruel and destructive the mountains of Norway could be because you were tasked with chasing down a group of runaway slaves—as a punishment. This was different from your 'normal' punishments.

There was nothing special about these fucking slaves, they were just stupid enough to think it wise to steal from their Queen and then dare escape. It angered you so much that she'd send you on this quest when a small squadron of low ranked knights would've done fine.

It had taken you a week and two villages to finally catch up with them into the mountains. The conditions were harsher than what you were prepared for and you had to abandon half your gear and continue on foot. The cold was too much for your horse to handle, but he was old and you were sure to put him out of his misery before continuing on your hunt.

You'd caught them asleep in a cave a few miles away from a village that was tucked away into the mountain side. You purchased food and another horse, costing you all the silver you carried but it made your hunt easier and quicker. You hadn't been looking for the cave but a small fire through the thick of the trees caught your attention. Tying your new mare a distance away, you crept towards them, sticking to the tall grass and the shadows.

They'd all been sleeping so peacefully, even their so-called 'watcher'. It was almost too easy to just go and kill them quietly one by one...but Miranda had specific instructions for you to follow if you wanted her forgiveness. She wanted to hear them scream while she slept and that was exactly what you intended to deliver. You unsheathed one of your twin blades and with practiced ease, you swung right as the watcher’s eyes snapped open.

You were startled awake by a scream that you weren't sure if it was from your dream or if it was a real one. You sat up half way in the bed of the guest room you were put up in, leaning on your elbow ready to spring from beneath the sheets but nothing ever came. After another full five minutes of sitting and waiting with no result, you let yourself fall back onto the soft pillows and threw an arm over your eyes as they began to leak tears.

Nothing of sadness or the sort, you were simply exhausted—you were still in your clothing with your parka not too far away just in case you had to use the window for a quick escape. You even kept your boots on, even though it was too warm for you but you'd deal with it as you've been through more uncomfortable situations that couldn't even compare to simply being hot. Of course if you take off a few layers you'd be fine, but paranoia hasn't exactly been very kind to you in the past years...with good reason too. You hadn't died in over ten years and you planned to keep that streak going.

But even as those thoughts comforted you a bit, sleep evaded you—no longer finding you worthy of its pleasures and you just laid there sprawled out and tangled within the soft white linen sheets that were probably now dirty thanks to you. You didn't care. They probably had more somewhere.

Resigned to the fact that you'd probably never be able to go back to sleep, at least not any time soon, so pushed aside the heavy duvet and slipped out of the bed quietly. You moved towards the window but the only thing you could see was the few trees below and a land covered in blankets of undisturbed snow. A little further beyond the tree line, you saw smoke coming from the chimneys of the factory before you turned away from the view and left your room. You looked left and right of the hallway but there wasn't a sign of life to be found, not even that little maiden Alcina practically made your shadow. It was probably later than it actually felt and she was probably asleep...everyone probably was.

Checking your watch— ah, right. Miranda even took that. She took everything you could use as a weapon and it tickled you more than it annoyed you. Unsupervised, you can now take your time to feel your way around. You didn't get a chance to get a good look at everything before but now you did, and it was an opportunity to get to know the Lady of the castle. You'd long dismissed the thought that anything in this village was normal, it had more secrets and shadows than a horror book you guessed.

Walking through the halls of the second floor felt like a trip down memory lane—no particular region as most all castles were the same. Large and filled with fancy portraits and trinkets that could house and feed five families at a time. Carpet so plush and soft that you could feel it through your boots with each step. It absorbed your weight like a welcome home hug. Clearly Lady Alcina was a woman of finer things in life and that extended far outside of her wardrobe and preferred wines.

It just unnerved you how quiet everything was, a castle thing large and prosperous had to have staff minding it twenty four seven. Nonetheless, you finally came to the door that you recognized during your brief tour as the 'wine room'. Like everything else you'd come across, the door was finely made from dark red oak with gold trimmings—just like Alcina's stagecoach.

Without a second thought about it, you opened the door—simply with the intent of getting a better look at the wine collection the maiden mentioned during your tour. But that thought was cut short because the room wasn't as empty as the silence in the hallway led you to believe as you'd walked into a full conversation by two people; one you were hoping to avoid for a few days and the other you thought was asleep...or well away from your location. You were wrong on both accounts.

“Heisenberg is a blundering fool leading a pack of fleabags, Miranda. He is going to fail again!”

“And we don't have time to stress other options, especially that one! We're out of time already and—”

“Exactly we're out of time so just ask her—” you pushed the door open a little more and it creaked quietly.

They both turned to you and you stood frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to make of the scene in front of you or what you just overheard. Miranda and Alcina were sitting at the small table, well Miranda was, Alcina was sitting in one of her custom chairs a little further away and both women had two glasses filled with dark red wine. Alcina wasn't in her white dress anymore, instead she'd changed into a pair of dark slacks and deep red turtle neck and she was barefoot. A far cry from the regal dress she wore earlier but she still carried herself in the same manner.

You did your best not to think about how good Miranda looked without that damn mask on her face...even in those robes she still wore, Miranda was beautiful. Beautiful as the day you first met. You forced yourself to keep your attention on Alcina and not Miranda, who was now staring a hole into the side of your face like she was trying to will you into looking at her.

“Oh. Shit, I didn't know this room was occupied.”

Alcina glanced at Miranda briefly from behind her wine glass, her expression unreadable when she settled her eyes on you again, “Of course not, dear. Is everything alright?”

You cleared your throat, fighting the urge to look at Miranda because you could feel her trying to will your eyes in her direction, “No, actually I—”

You were interrupted by an ear piercing scream and high pitched laughter right behind her, on the verge of being hysterical. Lady Dimitrescu sighed heavily behind you and finished her wine before setting her glass down and rising to her full height.

“Please excuse me, it seems that my daughters are teasing the poor maids again.”

You started to comment that it didn't sound like it was teasing but you kept your mouth shut, knowing better than to stick your nose in the wrong place too soon—it never really turned out very well for you the first time. It would never cease to amaze you how fast and quiet Alcina moved despite her size, but it still baffled you that she hasn't ever gotten the doors to her own castle fixed to fit for her . But those thoughts were pushed to the far corners of your mind when the door clicked shut—leaving you alone in the room with Miranda, forcing you to acknowledge her now. You shoved your hands in your pockets and sighed, you weren't expecting to see her again so soon.

You still hadn't had time to get your shit together after the last time you two spoke, or more like argued back and forth. Easily falling into a pattern as if you hadn't been centuries apart. You still weren't sure how you were supposed to feel about that.

“Take a seat, (Y/n). Would you like a glass of wine?” Miranda broke the silence but she didn't break eye contact with you once she caught you eye, holding you as if she physically had her hands on your face. “We don't have to talk if you don't want to, (Y/n).”

“Oh, so now we're suddenly interested in what I want to do?”

“Yes, of course. Wine?”

You scoffed, rolling her eyes at her typical answer and you wanted to say no, you opened your mouth to do so but instead you were getting closer to the table she was sitting at. She poured you a glass of wine, and handed it to you. You raised an eyebrow, she couldn't have set it down for you? She insisted on handing it to you and the way Miranda was holding the glass left you no choice to place your hands over hers to take it from her. Those gold claw rings were ice cold against your skin and the edge of one nicked your skin but not deep enough to draw blood.

You had no idea what you wanted to say to Miranda, you weren't ready to talk about what you two needed to talk about but you weren't sure if you could sit here and do small talk with her over wine. It was so easy for you to get up and leave, maybe go back to your guest room and lock the door. So what was stopping you? Why was it difficult?

Miranda, who had been watching you intently, interrupted your rapid thoughts, “You always were a loud thinker, (Y/n).”

“Nothing interesting, trust me.”

“Oh I beg to differ,” Miranda chuckled, shifting in her chair slightly to angle herself towards you a little more. You sort of hated yourself for thinking how well she was pulling off the priestess look, “I could always tell what you were thinking even from a mile away. You were always quite the unique distraction.”

“You never complained before.”

“No,” she agreed, her voice dropping an octave or two lower, “though I doubt I ever will.”

You looked up, she didn't look away and you didn't know what to think. And for once, even if it was just for a moment, you saw a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.

“Miranda, what do you want? Why are you keeping me here?”

“Because we need to talk, (Y/n), to...clear the air as they say, I guess.”

“Yeah, okay, I got that part earlier,” you licked your suddenly dry lips, your nerves starting to buzz a little, “But that's not a good enough reason anymore.”

Miranda scoffed, actually rolling her eyes at you, “Why not? Closure heals the past. Doesn't it?”

“But what do you expect after that?”

“What do you?” she threw the ball back in your court as she refilled her own wine glass from a different bottle than what she used for your own, the wine she was using was a little darker and thicker. It didn't surprise you that the question was thrown back at you, she always did that when she was trying to keep the upper hand or get it.

But it didn't mean that the question wasn't a good one because what did you want after this? Would it even matter after all of this time? Have you ever forgiven her, really and truly moved on? Did she even care back then, did she care for you...or what you could do for her?

Miranda was watching you the entire time become lost in your thoughts, a trait you still carried with you. She picked up her wine glass and took a sip, her clear eyes taking you in while you were distracted enough to not notice her doing it so blatantly. You still looked the same as the last time she saw you, minus the murderous rage that had twisted your beautiful features that evening.

The modern world has touched many parts of you but your eyes still hold so much more than they did centuries ago. Being a warrior was now outdated and something of an historical myth but you still carried yourself as one, and Miranda could see new scars on your brown skin on the exposed skin she saw earlier on your neck and arms.

She'd been watching you for days before finally making herself known to you after going back and forth with herself during those agonizing days. Being far more irritable than she normally was and Miranda was positive that Lords Heisenberg and Moreau were quite sore with her at the moment. Well, Karl certainly would be. Seeing you made her angry...at first. Angry for the grief you left her with, the shatters you left her to pick up on her own.

Years of pent up thoughts and plans of revenge she'd enact when she got her hands on you came down to a single moment when she finally did get her hands on you and she couldn't do it. Miranda eyed your neck, where you should've still been bruised. She had you right where she needed you with one hand wrapped around your neck because you were so unsuspecting. It would've been so easy but she couldn't...so she knocked you out and threw you in a cell where she could keep a better eye on you. And perhaps no longer be so distracted from her work.

“Look who's thinking loud now.” you mumbled around the edge of your wine glass, finally taking a sip of the damn thing. Miranda wouldn't hesitate to bet that you assumed it was somehow poisoned even though you watched her open the bottle. “Good thoughts, I hope.”

Miranda hummed softly, “Do you really wish to know?”

You chuckled, and Miranda's eyes were drawn to the way your jaw clenched and unclenched when the wine hit your taste buds again, “With the way you were staring at my neck...it's not that hard to guess, Miranda.”

“You're only half right, my dear.” At your raised eyebrows, Miranda's smirk only widened, “My hands were wrapped around that strong neck again, but breaking it is far from my mind now .”

Your snort turned into a chuckle that was clearly infectious as Miranda joined you. Nothing was remotely that funny, if it was funny at all, but you were tired and the situation brought forth too many emotions for you, either of you to really process, and all you could was just...laugh.

Miranda was the first to sober up a bit though the smile never completely left her features. “Ah, and well... you know, it wouldn't do to try and kill the only other person on this wretched rock who knows me. Will it?”

You're very well the only person in this wretched world that will ever know the real me and still love me for it. Quite a miserable thought, isn't it?

You jumped when the door opened behind you and Alcina stepped into the room—you'd almost forgot where you were for a moment. Almost. Alcina took one look at the two of you, curious to find you actually still in the room much less sitting at the table sharing a glass of wine with Miranda. Especially with what she overheard earlier and how much tension you two create together.

Alcina knew that she interrupted something, probably something she had no business to but that did not stop her from sitting back down in her chair in her goddamn castle. And whatever drama that was happening within her territory was now her drama and she was going to get a front row seat. Alcina lit up another one of her cigarillos and pulled heavy before she released it in your direction.

“Running a business is quite the headache when no one else understands your vision, I swear. Don't have kids, (Y/n). They're messy and nothing but trouble.”

“Noted.” you forced a chuckle, not taking her bait but now you were trying to finish your wine as quickly as possible without seeming like you were trying to run.

“Well, how about it then, (Y/n)? Tell us a story, you couldn't have been a mercenary your entire life. Or have you?” You glanced at Miranda and saw that she was glaring at Alcina but the taller woman wasn't paying her any mind. And really, the only reason Miranda hasn't verbally intervened is because she was interested in your answer as well. Even if Alcina was asking just to poke at the situation for her own amusement.

“I've put away my shield and sword a long time ago,” you didn't bother to mention that you did keep them both in pristine condition just in case, “I've been enjoying the little things life has to offer.” lame. And a lie.

“Oh come now,” Alcina scoffed, not accepting your answer—it wasn't a very good one anyway, “That's—”

“Actually,” When it was clear that Miranda wasn't going to save you from this woman's nosiness (why would she?) You quickly drank the rest of the wine, it was really too sour for you, and rose from the chair. “I think I'll try to get some more sleep. Thanks for the wine and...yeah.” Could you be any more awkward?

Alcina was howling by the time the door slammed shut behind you and she took another pull from her cigarette stick, still paying no heed to Miranda's heated glare. “Oh, you're going to have to tie that one down if you want her to talk to you.”

“I will have your head if you stick your nose in my business again, Dimitrescu.”

“Then don't store your business in my castle.” Alcina shot back, meeting Miranda's glare head on but immediately conceded when she felt Miranda's growling through the vibrations of her glass in her hand that was still resting on the table. “Alright, alright...but you're always welcome to use my dungeons. Use chains though those biceps of hers could probably break through the ropes.”

“Alcina, that is enough!”

The Lady of the castle just laughed lightly until it tapered off into a pleasant hum around her famous Sanguis Virginis wine while watching Miranda readjust her face mask. Her eyes brighter than they have been the last few hours., Alcina pushed for one more question—deciding to risk Miranda's wrath, “How'd you ever let such a handsome creature slip between your fingers?”

Miranda sighed heavily, no pause in her strut to the door, “Egos and misunderstandings.” she was gone before the lock clicked into place.

I'm so sorry for being hella lazy, lol, I'll add the other chapters of this story today 😭😭😭😭

#resident evil 8 #mother miranda x reader #mother miranda #resident evil #resident evil village #lady alcina x reader #lady alcina #alcina dimitrescu #dis tew much #assassin's creed odyssey #simpin for these bishes

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femme-xx-fatale · 3 years

Text

Just Hold Me For Now

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of self harm, depression, attempted suicide, poor body image, and swearing.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: I haven't published any fanfics in literally years, but I've really been inspired to start writing again lately, so constructive criticism is welcome but please be kind!! I'm still quite rusty haha <33 Also, I would love to take writing requests :))

Also, my intention is not to romanticize depression, self harm, etc., I have genuinely tried to write this is a way that doesn't glorify any of that, but having gone through a similar experience, this was very healing to write.

You were standing in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom, tears dripping down your cheeks as you examined your reflection in the glass. You were wearing a pair of black, Nike shorts that stopped at your upper thighs, and an oversized, grey tee shirt that had definitely belonged to your boyfriend at one point. Your hair was thrown up into a messy bun, and your skin felt especially clean and soft, mainly due to the fact that you had just finished a long shower.

One detail about you, however, stood out from the rest. Long, deep scars covered some parts of your body, and god did you hate them. The way they looked running up your arms and thighs like steps on a ladder disgusted you, and brought old feelings of shame and regret up to the surface once again. How could anyone even love you?

The scars were old, you hadn't cut yourself for a few months now. It had been long enough, in fact, that though they had once seemed forever red and angry, they were now turning white with age. That didn't change the fact that they were horrible reminders of dark times, reminders you couldn't possibly get rid of.

As you looked at those dreadful scars, you remembered vividly the day that your boyfriend, Peter Parker, had demanded that you never hurt yourself again. You had been sitting in a bed at the hospital, with Peter crying and begging you to never hurt yourself again as he held you close to him. He had held you so tightly it seemed to you that he was afraid of you slipping away forever, even if the worst had already been avoided. The night before you had landed in the sterile hospital room, he had found you passed out in this very room, in a puddle of your own blood. The blood stains on the carpet came out, but it still hurt to look at the carpet, knowing where you were that night. Before then, he hadn't known you struggled with self-harm, and he was stunned at the news. He was terrified to loose the love of his life. He almost did, honestly. If he had taken even a few minutes longer to find you, then you would've slipped away forever. But he was really your superhero, and he saved you that night.

He had always told you that night would never leave his memory. You guessed that finding you like that, not even knowing you were unhappy, must've been horrible for him, and a pang of guilt hit you in the chest. You definitely weren't thinking about cutting again now, but the sight of the irreversible scars was depressing, and the embarrassment and shame of it all definitely wasn't going away anytime soon. Even though some of your close friends and family knew about your trip to the hospital, and must've assumed you had scars, you still always wore long sleeves and pants in front of them. Even with Tom you felt shy having him be able to see them, but you tried not to worry too much about it with him. Sometimes, you couldn't help getting eaten up with insecurity over it, though.

As you tried to calm all of the insecurities within your mind, your crying slowed, leaving you looking slightly disheveled due to your outburst of tears. You slowly felt the raised lines on your left arm, your fingertips being overly delicate, because you remembered exactly how much they used to hurt.

Suddenly, you heard the sound of your bedroom window being swung open, breaking through your thoughts, Instinctively, you reached for a hoodie that was crumpled up in the chair next to you. Unfortunately, you weren't quick enough, and the person entered the room before you could hide your arms.

"Y/N?" Peter asked awkwardly, somehow sensing that this was possibly a bad time. He'd gotten into the habit of coming in through your bedroom window, as your parents didn't exactly enjoy the idea of your boyfriend spending late nights with you.

Before you could even speak, his eyes drifted towards your uncovered arms, so you crossed them awkwardly across your chest. "Shit, Peter! You scared me!" You yelled, kicking him lightly on the shin with your foot.

"I didn't mean to scare you..." he mumbled awkwardly, eyes still glued to your forearms, but eventually traveling up to your face. You knew he noticed you'd been crying. How could he not, with your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes? He hesitated for a minute before saying anything, but eventually pointed out the obvious.

"Were you crying?" He asked, and you sighed, knowing he wouldn't let you lie your way out of this one.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Peter, you'll be surprised to hear this, but actually, its none of your business," you replied sassily, catching a glimpse of your red eyes and tear stained cheeks in the mirror as you spoke.

"Drop the attitude, I'm only trying to help, Y/N," He reminded you, not unkindly, but seriously. "Let me be here for you, please baby."

"I'm just upset," you relented after a few seconds of silence, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand.

"As if I hadn't guessed that," Peter replied, rolling his eyes a little. "Let me see your arms a minute." The second he said that, you crossed your arms around yourself even more tightly.

"Well, they're right here," you muttered.

"Can you cooperate and actually hold them out for me so I don't have to make you?" He asked, even though you knew full well that if your answer was 'no', he would leave it at that. Even though he didn't always act like it, he did respect you completely. Normally, you loved his persistence and sassy attitude, but today, it was much less appreciated. You hesitated a moment before finally holding them out to him. He grabbed your hands up in his bigger, stronger ones carefully, rubbing his thumbs gently over the nearest scars, close to your wrist bone.

"Y/N..." He trailed off, and you thought you caught him tearing up. "You know I love you so much, right baby?" You felt yourself tearing up again.

It didn't take long for you to end up wrapped up in his arms, your legs around his waist as he held you close to his chest.

"How can you stand me?" You whispered after a few moments of quiet that only the crickets and soft breeze outside your window interrupted. You said it so quietly, that you didn't know if Peter had even heard you.

"What do you mean, babygirl?" he asked quietly, genuinely confused. You buried your face further into the crook of his neck before responding.

"I don't know... I just... You know so many pretty girls, but here I am. My scars are so ugly, they make me so ugly," you said, fighting back sobs the loud sobs that begged to be released from your throat. Tears were flowing freely from your cheeks, though.

"What? Y/N! You're like the prettiest girl I know," he said, not quite sure exactly what to say, but knowing he loved you and thought you were absolutely beautiful. "Listen babe, I mean it. You're so pretty and your scars don't make me see you any differently!! Like you're gorgeous and beautiful and just so damn pretty babe, like I don't even know how I pulled you-" You shushed Peter, cutting him off, but now you were smiling through your tears. You were feeling much better than you had before, and thanked him.

"I love you too baby," you smiled, kissing him gently.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader #marvel angst #tom holland #tom holland x reader

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thedepthsoffandomminds · 2 years

Text

FLIES THE HAWK P11

Master list

You heard about the cobra Kai's capture the flag game in the woods, you rolled your eyes when Aisha told you about it.

"I don't know why you still do that. That dojo has brought nothing but trouble from the start. Especially now that creepy old man is part of it."

"Y/n, we've learnt loads of skills there not just fighting." Aisha tried to argue with you.

"Yeah, Eli has learnt how to be a bully, and you're not fair off it." You said getting up and walking away from her, leaving your friend in the park.

"Hey wait, there's a party tonight at Moon's house, are you coming?" She called after you.

"Maybe." You replied before climbing into your car. Driving away you heard your phone ringing so you pulled over and answered.

"Hi Robby."

"Hey, we're all heading to the party tonight, you coming?"

"Sure why not. I'll meet you there." You hang up and drive home. It was already 5pm and they wanted to meet you at 7 so you jumped straight in the shower to get clean whilst in the shower you found yourself thinking back to the last party you went to and how it ended. Fear started to rise up in your stomach.

'Its okay, just stay close to your friends' you told yourself as you started straightening your hair, it had gotten long, past your waist by now, so styling it took some time. You had no intention of pulling any focus to yourself so dressed in pair of black denim shorts, a plain green t-shirt and black and green stripped hoodie.

Just before you left you stood at the door, part of you didn't want to go.

'Can't live your life in fear y/n' you told yourself as your uber pulled up. The driver was one of those talky ones, kept asking about your life. You kept it vague and him stop a bloke away from the party, just encase. Sam, Robby, Demetri and the other Miyagi-do kids were waiting for you. Demetri had a game in his hands.

"What sort of party do you think this is?" You laugh.

"Well if I'd known there would be this many people I'd have brought balderdash." Everyone laughed as you walked inside. Sam and Robby stopped in their tracks when they saw the Cobra Kai's sitting on the sofa. Miguel walked in with Tory beside her. You didn't know much about her, only that she was a new girl in Cobra kai and they all loved her. She turns to Miguel and says something you don't hear but the two wonder away to another room. Eli catches your eye and he stares at you.

Moon came rishing in.

"Sam you made it! Kegs are out back, drinks are in the kitchen and the vegan pigs in blanket just got out the oven."

"You never said anything about inviting cobra kai." Sam said crossing her arms.

"Well I figured with summer ending and school starting back up we could stop all the fighting and be friends again."

"Its wishful thinking" Sam replied.

You stopped paying attention and walked away, you weren't part of either dojo so you didn't think it really mattered to you.

Keeping mostly to yourself during the evening you stood in the kitchen until Moon pulled back main room. You stood talking to her. If you're honest you'd always thought of her as a prissy popular girl but, she seemed really down to earth and didn't care about the way you dressed like other popular kids did. In fact she even knew some of your favourite bands.

ELI'S POV

How could they just be stabding there chatting together? My ex girlfriend and y/n the girl that...I don't know what to call her really but I knew I wouldn't be me without her.

I had to do something to get their attention. A girl walked in and she was pretty enough, so I got up and walked over.

"Hey I like your hair."

"Hi, thanks I like yours too its spikey."

"Thanks everyone wants to touch it, I always say no but you can touch it if you want." She laughed, "they call me Hawk."

"I'm-"

"PIPER!" Moon came darting over.

Girlfriend she has a girlfriend wonderful. I walk away and move into the kitchen seeing y/n outside talking to another guy. This party was shit.

I saw y/n push the guy away and stomp off, I didn't know if I should go to her. What if she's sad? But she's been ignoring me. Ergh girls are so difficult. I turned and went back into the other room finding Assface and telling him I wanted to leave when Demetri toom hold of the mike. He started spouting off all the embarrassing shit I used to do, including bed wetting.

"Screw mercy." I said moving forward. A siren sounded close by so we all started running.

As I went I heard y/n's voice she was being dragged by the guy from earlier. Though it didn't look like she wanted to go with him. I decided to follow just far enough behind that they wouldn't see me.

I guess the guy figured he was far enough away from the party cause he pushed y/n into a dark side alley. My heart stopped and so did my legs. This was bad, I couldn't get my legs to move.

Her scream broke my state and rushed forward. Seeing the guy pushing her to the floor anger took over and I lunged for him. The fight was over pretty quick. He was a big guy a year older than me but no match for skill. I dropped him, grabbed y/n's arm and pulled her away.

She was saying something but my mind couldn't hear it until she dropped to the floor. I turned to her. Both our hands were covered in blood.

Pt12

@peppamultifanimagines @it-was-never-meant-to-be-boys @caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @filmfvckers

#eli moskowitz #eli x reader #eagle fang karate #fanfiction #hawk moskowitz #hawk x reader #cobra kai fanfic #danny larusso #sam larusso #johnny lawrence

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