#yes those contrast horribly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nobodyfamousposts · 7 months

Text

Scarlet Lady Essay: Frightningale

Yet another essay for @zoe-oneesama. Because you deserve it.

I’m not going to bother with a compare/contrast of canon vs Scarlet Lady Frightningale because Frightningale in canon was a pretty forgettable episode. Akuma was lame. Setup was wasted. And it’s removal from the series would lose nothing of value.

So instead, I'm going to focus primarily on the Scarlet Lady version of Frightningale and what it does that makes it memorable.

I guess to start with, I should make it clear that I’m not a fan of shows being lazy, especially when they display a lack of planning or consideration of their story and characters. And perhaps one of the greater indicators of this issue is when a series suddenly realizes they they neglected multiple plot points until it’s too late to give them all the focus they warrant so they end up shoving all of those points into one episode and try to present it like it’s supposed to be an adequate resolution of all that buildup or in any way intentional.

Penalteam was that episode for Miraculous. They had the “temporary heroes” setup going for them but then wasted so much time on filler like Frightningale that it seems like they honestly forgot about it until they were reaching a designated end point and they realized they still had four more heroes they were supposed to introduce. Whoops? Ah well, just introduce them all at once. Not like anyone will care!

And when you treat most of the cast like they’re all as shallow as a puddle, I guess that’s true.

The thing is, when you have a setup where there is a running theme of every person in a specific group getting their own episode/chapter to detail their issues and how they get a power up, it’s going to stand out whenever one of them doesn’t. Especially when that one or more are forced to share their limelight episode.

That’s not to say you can’t do it, but it’s bound to get attention if you do. It reflects poorly on the writing. It shows whom the “favored” and “unfavored” characters are. And it displays the issue with pacing—namely that it’s next to nonexistent until it hits you with the force of a freight train.

But can it be done and be done well? Is it possible to pull off such a thing and have it make sense and fit in lines with the characters?

Well, yes. Off the top of my head, I can think of two different ways to do it to make it work.

And Zoe did both of them.

If you look at Scarlet Lady as a whole, you’ll see a conglomeration of characters—each with stories and arcs attached. They have personalities. They have goals and problems and their own highs and lows. One sign of good writing is that some focus is given to highlight these other characters as people. Individuals in their own right with lives outside of the main characters or situation.

Miraculous doesn't really do this.

Scarlet Lady, however, does. Because contrary to the title, Scarlet Lady isn’t just about Chloe.

It isn’t even just about the heroes.

It isn’t just about Chloe being horrible. Or Marinette being in love. Or Adrien being in desperate need of a hug and a nap. Because while the story is centered around them, it isn’t solely about them. Other characters get focus and growth and their own arcs throughout the comics.

But the big two—the BIGGEST two with arguably the most depth and most growth and quite frankly the best storylines out of everyone in the entire series?

It’s Sabrina and Lila. And their individual stories have led up to this.

As such, this episode—which was mostly filler and all around forgettable in canon, matters here.

It’s where Sabrina and Lila reach the culmination of their respective character arcs.

Yes, it’s when they both get to become Miraculous Heroes and meet their own kwamis, but it’s more than just that! They both hang out with the girls group as full members of the crew, getting to take part in a music video together. It’s also where they both get to stand up for themselves and the city at large while calling out Chloe and Scarlet Lady. This is what their storylines have been building up to and where their growth really shows.

Sabrina started out as Chloe’s minion same as canon—albeit with more attention to her feelings and her responses, no matter how seemingly small, allowing her to feel more like her own person. And through this focus, we got to see her open up more, pull and eventually break away from Chloe and her influence, and over time stand up for herself and try to establish herself both with the class and as an individual.

Lila started off as a liar and manipulator, selfish and self centered, much like canon. Unlike canon, her lies are tied to her issues, noted to be poorly thought through, and give her more introspection as a person. After the lies are revealed, she’s not “redeemed” so much as she is “accountable”, and it doesn’t change who she is. She remains selfish and certainly far from being considered “good”, but she’s letting people in past her walls and masks in a way she hadn’t been able to before.

Both of these things? Figuring out who you are and letting people know you for who you are? They’re incredibly hard. And a lot of time was devoted to both of their journeys along the course of the comic.

Sabrina’s arc was about her figuring out who she is on her own. Outside of Chloe and her previous role of being a follower and lackey. And sometimes it feels less scary to stay with someone toxic than to be alone and facing the unknown. We see it in the way she tries to put herself out there afterwards, reaching out and risking rejection and just figuring herself out. Even or perhaps especially with those she already knows and has a less than positive history with.

And we still see the struggle of her view of herself in this episode. It was in the way she was upset that she legitimately tried to help and it still resulted in bad things happening. And it was also clear when she calls herself a “sidekick” to Marigold after the day was saved, as if it’s a role she still sees herself as and one she struggles not to fall in to. Over time, we’re seeing Sabrina learning that she doesn’t have to be attached or subservient to someone else to have an identity or be accepted.

Lila’s arc involved her figuring out who she is with people. Outside of the lies and manipulations she creates, the masks she wears, and the identities she crafts to make people like her. The “real Lila” is far from the best person and arguably not even a good person, but she also doesn’t have to be for the others to accept her as the still somewhat bad influence she is. She’s still very much selfish and flawed, but she’s less inclined to hide it or treat it like something that needs to be hidden. And isn’t that a common lesson? That it’s better to be liked for who you are than to force yourself to be someone else to be liked?

And at the same time, even with being less than a fully good person, she’s showing that she can still find better ways of acting that allow her to help others rather than hurt them or serve herself. She still hates Scar, but rather than working with Hawk Moth to kill her and risk dooming Paris and the world, she’s instead working with Alya through more legitimate (and legal) means…and hitting Scar where it hurts most. She and Adrien may not be friends, but rather than try to punish him for not going along with her, she’s instead rescued him, putting herself on the line—something that the former Lila wouldn’t have considered doing and one that canon Lila wouldn’t be capable of. Even if she’s motivated by pettiness or self-interest, what would have been straight up revenge on someone who upset her has grown to be something that is working in everyone’s better interests.

Both Lila and Sabrina hid themselves in different ways and for different reasons. So having them both assert themselves and call out both Chloe and Scarlet Lady is a show of their growth and overall a huge deal. It’s not something either of them would have done at the start of the series. Sabrina, because she was a “yes man” who wouldn’t dare to argue with Chloe and Lila because she wouldn’t risk openly doing something to make herself a target.

And now boom! Look at them both! Lila stepped up to openly and publicly denounce Scarlet Lady as not being a hero for real reasons that aren’t just about herself or her feelings—complete with receipts! The girl did her research, noting incidents from before she even came into the picture. Then follow up with Sabrina standing up against Chloe’s machinations and dismantling Chloe’s main source of power: her father. Even better, she’s using logic and knowledge she would have as a former ally of Chloe’s who would know her tricks, taking her former friendship with Chloe and using it against her.

And on top of that, each of them are given the Miraculous by the person they wronged in the past. Marinette to Sabrina and Adrien to Lila. Especially in Lila’s case, it says a lot that they’re trusted. That shows narratively that even with their mistakes and bad choices and continued struggles, they still can move forward—not necessarily to find redemption, but to find themselves and be their best selves.

This is why it makes sense for them to share this episode. It’s also why both of them speaking up matters. They are both publicly confronting their greatest foe, and the fact that their foes are really two faces of the same person further highlights this.

So they both have issues with the same person, are dealing with forming their identities without catering to others, are working out how to have/be friends, were formerly not the best of people, and have a fear of rejection. As such, this isn’t just their obligatory hero episode, this is what their individual stories have been leading up to. Almost like they’re two sides of the same coin. And the comparison between the two helps them both shine.

And speaking of shining, does anyone remember how the all girls team up didn’t get a chance to shine in canon? Zoe sure did.

I have a whole list of problems I have regarding Party Crasher, but perhaps number seven on that list is that the boys got to have an all male temp hero team up episode while the girls didn’t.

In fact, by this episode in canon, only Alya, Chloe, and Kagami actually got to be temp heroes.

To be fair, only four of the guys out of seven in canon got to be part of their particular event in Party Crasher, leaving out Ivan (who often tends to get overlooked) and Nathaniel (who has had a precedent of just literally disappearing from the episode). But originally, part of the appeal of Party Crasher was that the focus was supposed to be on the male classmates and getting to see at least some of them being part of a team against the akuma.

Why then didn’t we get an episode like this with the girls? Or at least something LIKE this?

Frightningale became that episode. And if any of the episodes were to do it, it makes the most sense for Frightningale to be the one.

All of the girls were together to take part in this event. So Zag would have had the perfect excuse to include them all in the fight or just have the girls do something to help even as civilians. I mean, we’ve had episodes do this before. Max in Robustus. Nathaniel and Alix in Reverser. Luka in Captain Hardrock. Let the civilians show their heroic traits even before they become heroes. It’s not a Miraculous, but it’s still giving them focus and expanding on them as individuals.

Instead, canon Frightningale was a filler episode. And not even a good one. For an akuma who forces people to sing or dance, it’s a waste that they just had the heroes spend the whole time rhyming. A waste of writing and talent. I mean, have you heard Christina Vee sing? If there needed to be a musical episode, I would think that the akuma who forces people to sing would certainly warrant it! At least more than it’s Christmas and they sing just cuz.

So this is yet another thing that Zoe improves with the Scarlet Lady version of this episode. Giving us the all girl team up episode so many of us have long wanted and getting to see all the female heroes together at last.

And with this, we get the full roster of friends-turned heroes.

Except for Alix. Poor, poor Alix. ;_;

Your day will come.

In this way, the end where Clara goes a different direction with her music video feels less like a half-assed fix to a half-forgotten plot point and more like something that was built by everyone involved. I don’t know about the rest of you, but given Clara’s excitement over the all girl band playing and Pigella’s gift showing Clara an idea for her video, it highlights the focus on EVERYONE being part of this—both the video and the episode itself. It kind of comes off as a lesson of its own about teamwork and giving everyone a shot rather than focusing specifically only on one or two specific individuals.

And isn’t that what separates the heroes from Scarlet Lady?

But there’s a third important aspect of this episode.

This is the episode where Chloe is smacked in the face with Scarlet Lady’s falling popularity.

Let’s remember that at the start of the comic, Scarlet Lady was fully and widely considered THE Hero of Paris. She was beloved for doing nothing and it was a point of frustration for Chat, who actually was having to pick up her slack. Initially, there was nothing he could do because him being the only real hero among the duo meant he often couldn't stick around after akuma fights to prevent Scar from telling "our story". In addition, he didn’t know who she was or who chose her and why. Then even when it was clear her getting the Earrings was a mistake, for a lot of the first couple seasons, she was so popular that they couldn’t just take the Earrings away from her lest they risk backlash from the rest of the city. It’s a backlash that seems increasingly unlikely as more and more people get to see her behavior and callousness firsthand.

We’ve seen hints of it in other episodes, but none of them were so blatant to Chloe that she couldn’t ignore it or shrug it off or otherwise make excuses to protect her ego.

Prime Queen wanted to focus on Marigold and Chat Noir for their “romance” to try and boost ratings. Alya and Lila made some snarky comments, but Chloe could easily dismiss them both. Nadja also made a comment that nobody cared about Scarlet’s love life, but a lack of interest in her love life isn’t a lack of interest in herself and Chloe despises both of her “sidekicks” and wouldn’t want anyone trying to pair her with them anyway. And Nadja reassures her that they’ll focus on her after they’re done with Chat and Marigold. So yes, she can dismiss that as well.

Reverser has Chloe faced with both of her identities are made as villains in art and a story. However, she clearly looks down on Nathaniel and Marc barely registers to her. So she can dismiss them.

Look at Despair Bear, the Intermission, the interactions with the various other heroes, and the fact that only Chat Noir and Marigold are privy to the Guardian’s secret existence and allowed to pass out other Miraculous. Much has been shown of the other characters being less than impressed with her, snarky towards her, or showing the process of how they discover the truth about her and how she actually handles akuma attacks…namely in that she doesn’t. And Chloe can dismiss all of that because to her, none of them really matter to her.

But Chloe can’t dismiss the fact that a renown celebrity dedicating a music video to the “Heroes of Paris” isn’t including her. Bad enough her sidekicks are taking center stage but she’s not even in the music video at all?

And when someone she despises calls out the reasons why she’s not a hero in an openly public setting surrounded by a multitude of people who all agree with her? You could say it’s insult to injury. But some would say it was a long time coming.

Some Rando: Scarlet Lady sucks! Alya: Marigold and Chat Noir do all the work, not her! Kagami: She’s barely even necessary at this point. Clara: This video and song are to celebrate hope and love. And Scarlet Lady lacks both when push comes to shove. Chloe: ARGHHH! WHATEVER!

It further shows the turning tide of public opinion against Scar. What was once a trickle has grown into a wave, and now Chloe is forced to acknowledge her image and status aren’t as ironclad as she thought. Sure, she could denounce Lila as a liar like she’s done before, but Lila is bringing up instances that Chloe can’t deny: being late (as she’s just plain been a no show to several fights), endangering civilians, and being caught live on camera being willing to let someone die in a particularly horrible way because it’s easier.

This is the episode where it’s not just people seeing Scar is horrible, but acting on it and letting Chloe know they know she’s horrible. It’s reached the point where Chloe can’t just disregard the claims or discount and ignore her critics. And we’re seeing Chloe starting to lose control as a result. To the point she has to force her dad to ruin a previously sanctioned event in what has to be one of his most flagrant displays of abuse of power to date just to shut down her detractors.

And even that would come with more consequences for Chloe if it had been allowed to continue. Sabrina herself points it out that Clara is very popular with a lot of fans—people who would be aware she’s making a music video and whom would be very disappointed if word got out that it was cancelled due to an issue with the Mayor. And given all the very unhappy people we see in the comic in question where she points that out, it stands to reason that the word would get out. Heck, I’d be surprised if someone wasn’t recording it.

Then there’s the love square/hero shenanigans.

Remember how in canon, the whole “playing themselves/risking identities” bit kinda just dropped out halfway in? The kwamis were the only authority figures involved to call out on the risk and of the two, Plagg didn’t care and Tikki gave one knowing stare at Marinette before turning around to gush about the suit. Even though Marinette offers the alternative idea to the music video by the end, there’s no further comment or notice of how she and Adrien nearly blew their identities….or alternatively a comedic take where nobody recognizes them regardless and they worried for nothing. Honestly, I would have taken either setup.

Having Fu present to call them both out shows there is a responsible authority figure watching, makes it clear there are rules they are expected to follow, and reinforces that this was, in fact, a horrible idea. Sure, Marinette and Adrien worried enough to hide their masks, but it should have been obvious that wouldn’t work long term. They are risking their identities, not just to Paris but to each other. And he calls them out for doing it on purpose.

Then there’s the beautiful crescendo of the love square dance in that the two both pretty much have figured out the other’s identity and just want an identity reveal to make it official—which Fu won’t allow. We see it in their playful banter that gets mistaken for “getting into character” and in Adrien in particular pushing Marinette to take part.

This is a point where we are seeing them be teenagers. Foolish of them? Yes. Should they have known better and not done it? Yes. But is it in character and the sort of teenage shenanigans we would expect of teenage superheroes? Definitely. And that’s part of the point. Because they are teenagers. Teenagers in love, no less. Teenagers in love with secret identities to dance around. Which is half the fun of secret identities!

It’s just another aspect to this episode that makes it enjoyable.

So overall, the episode matters in ways that the canon version didn’t and was fun in ways that the canon version wasn’t, making it stand out not just as an episode or a remake of the canon episode, but as its own standalone episode AND a noteworthy point in the overall story.

#scarlet lady au #scarlet lady essay #scarlet lady is better than canon #for zoe

1K notes · View notes

thunderboltfire · 3 months

Text

I have a lot of complicated feelings when it comes to what Neflix has done with the Witcher, but my probably least favourite is the line of argumentation that originated during shitstorms related to the first and second season that I was unlucky to witness.

It boils down to "Netflix's reinterpretation and vision is valid, because the Witcher books are not written to be slavic. The overwhelming Slavic aestetic is CDPR's interpretation, and the setting in the original books is universally European, as there are references to Arthurian mythos and celtic languages" And I'm not sure where this argument originated and whether it's parroting Sapkowski's own words or a common stance of people who haven't considered the underlying themes of the books series. Because while it's true that there are a lot of western european influences in the Witcher, it's still Central/Eastern European to the bone, and at its core, the lack of understanding of this topic is what makes the Netflix series inauthentic in my eyes.

The slavicness of the Witcher goes deeper than the aestetics, mannerisms, vodka and sour cucumbers. Deeper than Zoltan wrapping his sword with leopard pelt, like he was a hussar. Deeper than the Redanian queen Hedvig and her white eagle on the red field.

What Witcher is actually about? It's a story about destiny, sure. It's a sword-and-sorcery style, antiheroic deconstruction of a fairy tale, too, and it's a weird mix of many culture's influences.

But it's also a story about mundane evil and mundane good. If You think about most dark, gritty problems the world of Witcher faces, it's xenophobia and discrimination, insularism and superstition. Deep-seated fear of the unknown, the powerlessness of common people in the face of danger, war, poverty and hunger. It's what makes people spit over their left shoulder when they see a witcher, it's what makes them distrust their neighbor, clinging to anything they deem safe and known. It's their misfortune and pent-up anger that make them seek scapegoats and be mindlessly, mundanely cruel to the ones weaker than themselves.

There are of course evil wizards, complicated conspiracies and crowned heads, yes. But much of the destruction and depravity is rooted in everyday mundane cycle of violence and misery. The worst monsters in the series are not those killed with a silver sword, but with steel. it's hard to explain but it's the same sort of motiveless, mundane evil that still persist in our poorer regions, born out of generations-long poverty and misery. The behaviour of peasants in Witcher, and the distrust towards authority including kings and monarchs didn't come from nowhere.

On the other hand, among those same, desperately poor people, there is always someone who will share their meal with a traveller, who will risk their safety pulling a wounded stranger off the road into safety. Inconditional kindness among inconditional hate. Most of Geralt's friends try to be decent people in the horrible world. This sort of contrasting mentalities in the recently war-ridden world is intimately familiar to Eastern and Cetral Europe.

But it doesn't end here. Nilfgaard is also a uniquely Central/Eastern European threat. It's a combination of the Third Reich in its aestetics and its sense of superiority and the Stalinist USSR with its personality cult, vast territory and huge army, and as such it's instantly recognisable by anybody whose country was unlucky enough to be caught in-between those two forces. Nilfgaard implements total war and looks upon the northerners with contempt, conscripts the conquered people forcibly, denying them the right of their own identity. It may seem familiar and relevant to many opressed people, but it's in its essence the processing of the trauma of the WW2 and subsequent occupation.

My favourite case are the nonhumans, because their treatment is in a sense a reminder of our worst traits and the worst sins in our history - the regional antisemitism and/or xenophobia, violence, local pogroms. But at the very same time, the dilemma of Scoia'Tael, their impossible choice between maintaining their identity, a small semblance of freedom and their survival, them hiding in the forests, even the fact that they are generally deemed bandits, it all touches the very traumatic parts of specifically Polish history, such as January Uprising, Warsaw Uprising, Ghetto Uprising, the underground resistance in WW2 and the subsequent complicated problem of the Cursed Soldiers all at once. They are the 'other' to the general population, but their underlying struggle is also intimately known to us.

The slavic monsters are an aestetic choice, yes, but I think they are also a reflection of our local, private sins. These are our own, insular boogeymen, fears made flesh. They reproduce due to horrors of the war or they are an unprovoked misfortune that descends from nowhere and whose appearance amplifies the local injustices.

I'm not talking about many, many tiny references that exist in the books, these are just the most blatant examples that come to mind. Anyway, the thing is, whether Sapkowski has intended it or not, Witcher is slavic and it's Polish because it contains social commentary. Many aspects of its worldbuilding reflect our traumas and our national sins. It's not exclusively Polish in its influences and philosophical motifs of course, but it's obvious it doesn't exist in a vacuum.

And it seems to me that the inherently Eastern European aspects of Witcher are what was immediately rewritten in the series. It seems to me that the subtler underlying conflicts were reshaped to be centered around servitude, class and gender disparity, and Nilfgaard is more of a fanatic terrorist state than an imposing, totalitarian empire. A lot of complexity seems to be abandoned in lieu of usual high-fantasy wordbuilding. It's especially weird to me because it was completely unnecessary. The Witcher books didn't need to be adjusted to speak about relevant problems - they already did it! The problem of acceptance and discrimination is a very prevalent theme throughout the story! They are many strong female characters too, and they are well written. Honestly I don't know if I should find it insulting towards their viewers that they thought it won't be understood as it was and has to be somehow reshaped to fit the american perpective, because the current problems are very much discussed in there and Sapkowski is not subtle in showing that genocide and discrimination is evil. Heck, anyone who has read the ending knows how tragic it makes the whole story.

It also seems quite disrespectful, because they've basically taken a well-established piece of our domestic literature and popular culture and decided that the social commentary in it is not relevant. It is as if all it referenced was just not important enough and they decided to use it as an opportunity to talk about the problems they consider important. And don't get me wrong, I'm not forcing anyone to write about Central European problems and traumas, I'm just confused that they've taken the piece of art already containing such a perspective on the popular and relevant problem and they just... disregarded it, because it wasn't their exact perspective on said problem.

And I think this homogenisation, maybe even from a certain point of view you could say it's worldview sanitisation is a problem, because it's really ironic, isn't it? To talk about inclusivity in a story which among other problems is about being different, and in the same time to get rid of motifs, themes and references because they are foreign? Because if something presents a different perspective it suddenly is less desirable?

There was a lot of talking about the showrunners travelling to Poland to understand the Witcher's slavic spirit and how to convey it. I don't think they really meant it beyond the most superficial, paper-thin facade.

#The witcher #Sorry if its convoluted I just got reminded of something and it made me a little angry #and as I had this conversation a lot of times I've decided to put it into written text #sorry about being bitter #but these are some of my favourite books and I'm still upset when I get reminded how badly they were treated in the recent adaptation #I'm not saying you should never change anything #But it's good to have enough background to understand why some things are the way they are in the original #and to understand what the source material is about #we don't talk about particular character's looks or something (altough I feel they could care more about it too)#but central themes tropes and motifs #long post #it may seem like I'm talking from a high horse here #people are welcome to interpret literature however they want #Nobody has a monopol on themes #I just think that in this particular case the cultural context influences the worldbuilding #and if changed it doesn't have the same impact anymore #meta

154 notes · View notes

dapper-suitor · 1 month

Text

After reading Peter and Wendy by J.M. Barrie I have come up with my own Captain Hook design....

Here's all my citations for why he looks the way he does!

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

★ Described as having a swarthy skin tone, which means an olive or tanned complexion; "Hook nodded. He stood for a long time lost in thought, and at last a curdling smile lit up his swarthy face. Smee had been waiting for it. 'Unrip your plan, captain,' he cried eagerly," (Barrie 90).

★ Outfit modeled after King Charles the Second of England; "In dress he somewhat aped the attire associated with the name of Charles II., having heard it said in some earlier period of his career that he bore a strange resemblance to the ill-fated Stuarts;" (Barrie 81).

★ Loves flowers (Yes, actually.), hence the floral patterns on his vest and jacket; "Thus defenceless Hook found him. He stood silent at the foot of the tree looking across the chamber at his enemy. Did no feeling of compassion disturb his sombre breast? The man was not wholly evil; he loved flowers (I have been told) and sweet music (he was himself no mean performer on the harpsichord)..." (Barrie 191).

★ His hair is distinctly dark and curled; "As dogs this terrible man treated and addressed them, and as dogs they obeyed him. In person he was cadaverous and blackavized, and his hair was dressed in long curls, which at a little distance looked like black candles, and gave a singularly threatening expression to his handsome countenance." (Barrie 80).

★ Eyes of periwinkle blue, forget-me-nots; "Dark as were his thoughts his blue eyes were as soft as the periwinkle.." (Barrie 189). and, "His eyes were of the blue of the forget-me-not..." (Barrie 80).

★ Specifically the little thumbnail of him with red pupils represents a later trait we see in the novel, in which when he angers his eyes become red, "His eyes were of the blue of the forget-me-not, and of a profound melancholy, save when he was plunging his hook into you, at which time two red spots appeared in them and lit them up horribly." (Barrie 80).

★ Hook has a sort of sophisticated air to him because it is heavily implied in the story that he came from a high-class college in England before Neverland, "To reveal who he really was would even at this date set the country in a blaze; but as those who read between the lines must already have guessed, he had been at a famous public school; and its traditions still clung to him like garments, with which indeed they are largely concerned. Thus it was offensive to him even now to board a ship in the same dress in which he grappled her; and he still adhered in his walk to the school's distinguished slouch. But above all he retained the passion for good form." (Barrie 203).

Note: The grey hair streaks isn't really mentioned in the novel, but I thought it would be a cool (obvious) contrast between Hook and Pan.

70 notes · View notes

lovelycureaestetic · 21 days

Text

My two cents are that Sebastian is subconsciously learning enough about humanity with a touch of empathy to ultimately keep Ciel from falling over the edge. Because I don't think that Ciel will, in the end, go completely off the rails. Because if Sebastian' story is about a demon getting to appreciate humanity but not about "redemption", Ciel's one is about a human tiptoeing around the brink of darkness but not about "corruption".

I believe there's a balance to it all.

Ciel's role is to show Sebastian the enormous spectrum of human emotions and the intricacy of relationships and Sebastian's role is to make sure he'll keep that humanity, with all the nitty gritty yes but also with all the beautiful things it entails. Because despite EVERYTHING we can see even in recent chapters that Ciel still cares. He cares for Lizzie, he cares for Soma, he cares for his servants, he cares for Sebastian! He's constantly tested and pushed to the limit by life and he is by no means a saint, as Yana herself said he too is scum and we know he has done horrible things, but those haven't consumed him fully and the main reason why he's still able to hang on the last threads of his humanity is, well, Sebastian! Had he miraculously survived the whole abduction and went back on his own he definitely would NOT have been able to hang on tight to the edge on his own. Because he was too young, too damaged and most importantly too alone. No one around him could have ever understood him, no one saw what he saw. There would've been no one more tainted than him to remind him of his own humanity by contrast. He wouldn't have had that certainty that Sebastian clearly gives him. And on the other side, had Ciel never summoned Sebastian, the demon would've kept on being just that: a demon. He would've never taken the time to stop and appreciate humanity to the extent he does now because the only reason why he bothered at all was Ciel.

So yeah, they're both key elements in each other's lives and I do believe that ultimately Sebastian will save Ciel. Not only because to keep Ciel so perfectly imperfect in his mix of ruthlessness and silent care is to keep his most desired meal as appetising as possible, but also because, conscious or not, he cares for his young master now.

And honestly the thought of Sebastian being both Ciel' salvation and end is simply sublime to me personally.

This has been my psa thank you for reading(⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)

#nene blabs #sebaciel #kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive #idk if i made any sense i kinda got lost in my rambles like an old man muttering to himself lol

112 notes · View notes

tokkiwrites · 7 months

Text

ㅡㅡㅡ in which Javier Peña has a not so big strong man crush on the new intern.

TW: kind of fluff, age gap (not mentioned tho), pet names, use of Spanish , kind of forbidden love idk, javier is a slut ( barely mentioned in the story just wanted to put it out there) but also hes down BAD for reader, unprotected p in v sex (dont be silly, wrap your willy), afab reader, oh yeah use of y/n and reader is kind of thiiqueee idk what else so lmk if i missed anything!!!!

Javier had been standing outside for a while now, his gaze focused on the dry, concrete pavement in front of the Embassy. He took a drag of his marlboro cigarette and exhaled after a few moments, silently watching as the cloud of smoke wafted away.

The DEA Agent took a glance up at the night sky and the flickering streetlamps that had been due for maintenance years ago. The sound of footsteps snapped him out of his daze, and he then turned his head.

"buenas noches, señor peña!"

it was y/n, the newly arrived intern: a bubbly girl that was way too excited when anyone mentioned criminals, with a smile that made even the sun wanna take a closer look.

“buenas noches, querida.” The Texan rasped, his eyes taking note of her outfit. god, what a dress.

"long day, huh?" she asks before reaching her hand out and offering Javier a cup filled to the brim with warm coffee. "i know it's late, but coffee is always good." she smiles intently.

He smiled back, nodding his head in thanks, before accepting the coffee cup in his hands. "thank you, and yes, very long day indeed. this fucking heat isn't helping at all." Javier chuckles as he takes a long sip from the cup.

"i was gonna finish my coffee then head home, my feet are killing me..." she groans. "also this dress is horrible...forgot to wear some shorts under it and now my thighs feel like you could fry something on them."

Javier raised an eyebrow, and looked down at her thighs, his curiosity piqued. smiling in the corner of his mouth, y/n's eyes met his. He then looked down once again for a moment, before chuckling ever so slightly.

"Does that matter when you look so good, hermosa?"

y/n lets out a soft giggle, cheeks turning a pale shade of red, before she slaps his shoulder playfully. "you say that to everyone, señor Peña"

Javier chuckled, his deep voice rumbling softly as he took another sip of the coffee. "Only to those who deserve it," he replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes. y/n's blush deepened, and she couldn't help but smile at his response. "Well, I'm flattered..."

As they stood there under the flickering streetlamp, sharing a moment of casual banter amidst the night's shadows, Javier couldn't deny that the unexpected company of the bubbly intern had lightened the weight of the long, tiring day.

He appreciated her energy and enthusiasm, which contrasted the often grim and serious nature of his work.

it's what made him more excited to come to work for the past few months. and buy new clothes...and cologne. Javier will never admit it was for her, though.

"Listen," Javier began, taking a more serious tone, "I know you're new here, and this job can be tougher than it looks. But I've got a good feeling about you, y/n. You've got that spark, and that's something we could use around here."

y/n's s eyes widened in surprise and gratitude. "Thank you, señor Peña. I really appreciate that. I promise to give it my all." she nods. " all though...a certain someone who i will not name told me to never ever trust your praises as they're just means to get into someone's pants.." y/n laughed.

"you're too smart for that, muñeca."

Javier smirked, amused by her response. "Well, I can't say I haven't heard those rumors about me before," he admitted, taking another thoughtful drag of his cigarette. "But, let me assure you, my compliments are genuine when they need to be."

y/n's smile was contagious, and she couldn't help but chuckle. "I'll take your word for it."

As they continued to chat and sip their coffee, the night air began to cool, providing some much-needed relief from the scorching heat. Their camaraderie, lighthearted yet sincere, made the hours they spent outside the embassy more bearable.

it's been a while since Javier last felt this way with someone. He hated to admit it, but it was true.

Javier couldn't help but reflect on how long it had been since he'd experienced a genuine connection like this. The life of a DEA agent often led to solitude and secrecy, and trust was a rare and treasured commodity in his line of work.

With y/n, though, he sensed a different kind of trust budding. It wasn't just about the job; it was about the shared moments, the laughter.

Javier found himself appreciating the small, subtle details about y/n. The way her hair fell onto her shoulders, as if it were a cascade of silk, had a certain charm that was hard to ignore. He couldn't help but notice how her rosy cheeks seemed to light up every time he complimented her, and it warmed his heart to see her smile so genuinely.

And in that quiet corner of the world, under the watchful gaze of the night sky and the flickering streetlamps, Javier couldn't deny the fact that he enjoyed these stolen moments with y/n.

godㅡㅡ he doesn't know if he wants to fuck her or rip his heart out, cover it in glitter and give it to her, for fuck's sake.

his thoughts are stopped dead in their tracks as y/n's voice fills his ears again. "i should head home now... what about you? still got work or are you ready to head home? maybe we can walk together!"

"still have some work, querida, but..." he trails off "are you really in a hurry to get home?"

y/n hesitated for a moment, torn between her desire to spend more time with Javier and the exhaustion of a long day. "Well, I'd love to stay, but I have an early morning tomorrow, and I should get some rest."

Javier nodded in understanding, taking a final drag from his cigarette before extinguishing it on the pavement. "I understand, hermosa. You go ahead and get some rest. Don't want you falling asleep during those early meetings."

"so...you're not gonna walk me home?" she sounds kind of disappointed.

shit. she's so cute. someone slap this man. He's supposed to be an untouchable god that every woman wants. yet here he is, almost drooling over y/n.

Javier's expression softened at her disappointment, and he couldn't help but chuckle at her pouting. "Alright, alright, I suppose I can spare a few more minutes. It's not every day I get to walk a beautiful young lady home," he said with a wink.

y/n's face lit up, and she grinned. "You really know how to make a girl's night, señor."

walking together through the dimly lit streets, Javier couldn't deny the way he felt toward y/n. She was indeed beautiful, and her playful banter made him forget about the weight of his responsibilities, if only for a little while.

as they made their way to y/n's house, the wind hummed through the trees, soft creaks from some nearby swings in a park swirling alongside it. the night seemed to embrace them

it was beautiful. she was beautiful. fucking hell man, come on, get it together.

"we almost there, muñeca? you live pretty far away. how do you manage?"

"I've got thigns that motivate me to manage it."

"things?"

"yeah...stuff, you know? like work...people."

She laughed, and they continued walking together, their conversation ranging from the challenges of their work to the mundane details of their lives. The more they talked, the more Javier found himself drawn to her spirit and charm ㅡㅡ if that possible.

As they finally reached her doorstep, y/n turned to face him, a hint of reluctance in her eyes. "Well...we're here." she reaches for the doorknob before hastily turning back to face Javier. "do you want to maybe...come inside and ㅡㅡ maybe talk?"

was he really asking him this? impossible. this is a dream. that's how all of his dreams start. and they end with her under him.

"Iㅡ" he hesitatingly tries to reply "it's fine if you dont wanna! don't even know why i asked you, it's weird, sorryㅡ"

"No, querida, wait. I do." he sighs "I do want to come inside. That's the problem."

y/n's eyes widened with surprise at his response, her cheeks flushing with a mix of nervousness and excitement. She stammered, "Oh, uh... can't believe it.. Well, come on in, then!" Her hand shook slightly as she opened the door and gestured for him to follow.

Javier couldn't believe his luck. This unexpected turn of events left him both exhilarated and cautiousㅡㅡ if his boss finds out about this they're both better off as dead. As they stepped into her cozy living room, the air seemed charged with a palpable tension, a delicate balance between temptation and anticipation.

They settled on her couch, sitting close but not too close. y/n nervously played with a strand of her hair, her gaze occasionally meeting his, their eyes locking in a silent, electric exchange.

"y/n, I need to be honest," Javier finally spoke, his voice lower and more intense. "I'm not used to this kind of situation. I'm usually a lot more careful. 's why I try to only get with people who, you know..." he trails off, motioning his hands in the air.

y/n nodded, understanding the weight of their profession and the risks involved when it comes to, well, being amorous. "I get it. It's just... I don't know. There's something about you that's... I feel so silly saying this, god."

Javier leaned in closer, his gaze unwavering. "Tell me, y/n"

Their faces drew nearer, the magnetic pull between them impossible to ignore. It was a gamble, a moment of vulnerability neither of them were used to, but they were both willing to see where this unexpected night would lead.

She swallowed hard, the tension between them growing "I really like you and i know you probably find me stupid and a klutz and also I'm young so what do I knowㅡ"

"Woah, querida. Slow down."

Javier placed a finger gently on y/n's lips, silencing her thoughts. "First of all, you're not stupid or a klutz, and age has nothing to do with how you feel, hermosa. And, believe me, you're not alone in those feelings."

y/n's eyes searched his for a sign, a confirmation that he felt the same way. She couldn't help but feel her heart racing in anticipation.

With a soft, reassuring smile, Javier continued, "I've been doing this job for a long time, and I've met a lot of people. But there's something about you.." he looks down at her lips "can I?"

"y-esㅡ"

Their lips found each other in a passionate kiss, igniting a fire between them that felt deeper and more genuine than anything they had experienced before. Javier's hands roamed up y/n's body, pulling her closer to him as the kiss became increasingly intense.

When they finally pulled away, they were left panting, their eyes locked in an electrifying gaze. "fuck, querida," Javier whispered, his voice husky with desire. "do you know how long I've waited for this?"

y/n's breathless response came in a soft, sultry whisper, "not as long as I have.."

javier's lips crash onto y/n's neck, sucking small spots, the skin blooming red as they hastily start to undress each other.

"gonna let me take care of you, muñeca?"

"pleaseㅡ"

fuck, she sounds so desperate.

"i know, hermosa. Mira, déjame cuidarte esta noche."

Javier's fingers dance onto her skin, trailing up to where her bra clasp was. in one swift motion he relieves y/n, letting her breasts fall down into one of his palms.

inching closer, he starts to trace kisses down her neck to her cleavage, nipping slightly at the sensitive skin between her chest. " so beautiful. "

his mustache lightly tickling her as he prepped small kisses all over her, javier pushes y/n onto her back and pulls her hips closer to his by her ankles, drawing a soft whine from the latter. "patience, muñeca. can you wait just a little more for me, huh?"

"y-yesㅡ"

"good girl."

he finally pulls off her panties, tossing them to the side as he spreads y/n's cunt wide open with two of his fingers, analyzing the way it glistened in the dimly lit room. "so pretty. my pretty girl." y/n moans in response.

placing his palm behind her knee, he lift up her legs as to press light pecks onto her plush thighs, his thumb now tracing down to her pulsing clit. javier starts to slowly swirl his finger, still kissing y/n's thigh. "I'm gonna stretch out that pretty pussy, querida, it'll be all you think about."

tracing her entrace with his index, he plunges his finger deep into her, causing y/n to arch her back onto the mattress of the couch. this was it. he was where all of his fantasies led him to. now that he had her, he'll never let go.

cunningly, javier moved his finger into y/n's pussy, squelching sounds and her moans lapping off the walls and into his ears like melodies. "that's right. want you to come on my fingers, hermosa."

it didn't take long for y/n to finally give him what he asked for, coming just from javier's fingers, her body writhing as soft whines dripped from her lips.

"Do you want to continue, querida?" he asks, caressing ar her hips. "please, javier..." and when she pleaded his name in such a way, it sent a jolt up his spine, causing his cock to twitch into his boxers.

"i got you." he smiles, eyes tracing every curve of y/n's body. he takes off his briefs, letting his shaft spring free, small pearls of precum already gathered at the tip. y/n's eyes opened out more as she saw the sheer monster that was about to enter inside of her. "it's fine, querida. it won't bite, hm?" javier hums.

taking his length into his fist, javier pumps it a few times before he aligns it with y/n's entrance that trickled with slick. he teases her clit with the tip of it then goes in, making y/n to claw at his back.

"shh, muñeca. it's okay..." Javier starts to move slowly, gently holding y/n's waist as he lets her adjust to him. sla few strokes after he feels her wrap her legs around him, urging him deeper. "harder, please.." she pleads, the sweetest sounds escaping her plump and swollen lips.

"fuck.." Javier groans, almost coming right then with the way she stared up at him through her lashes wet with tears. "fuck, sweet girlㅡ" he starts to pump inside of her, harder and deeper, roughly hitting that one spot continously.

y/n moans, her head empty, vision blurry, and mouth agape. she was a mess, the prettiest mess he'd ever seen. all because... thanks to him.

the man moves back and forth harshly, feeling himself so close as y/n's valvet walls wrapped perfectly around his cock. "shitㅡ you were made for my cock, muñeca. my pretty, pretty girl." he moans, pressing his head between her breasts, nails digging bruises into y/n's hips.

a few moments later, y/n is completely blank, incoherent babbles skipping from her mouth as Javier fucks deep into her. "you gonna come, hermosa?" y/n nods rapidly "go aheadㅡ fuck! go ahead, come on this cock, show me how good you are to me."

that's all she needed.

she comes once again, nimbly wrapping around javier like a vine, her walls squeezing him so tight it makes his release warm, white ropes inside of her immediately.

they both pant, as they come down from their high. realization sets in as they meet each other's gaze.

"thank god you're only an intern, querida. I'm strictly forbidden to fuck employees." Javier chuckles. "oh, shut up, jerk." y/n huffs, smiling as she presses yet another kiss onto his lips.

⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾‎ 토끼's NOTE : surprise!!! i honestly dont know what this is.. wanted to try my hand at some kind of romance ig. im also in my javier era SO YEAH. Grammar errors probs, not proofread. this has 2.75k words. THANK U FOR ALL THE SUPPORT <3

#pedro pascal #kinktober #pedro pascal characters #javier pena narcos #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction

210 notes · View notes

vickyvicarious · 9 months

Note

About all the touching between Dracula and Jonathan... it all culimates on June 30, doesn't it. In case you want to talk about the climax of that saga

It seems there's now two instances.

The heavily implied feeding in Jonathan's room/bed. In his Old Man form, Dracula doesn't turn into mist or bat, so one way or another, he had to touch Jonathan to feed on him.

Jonathan again touching Dracula in his room/"bed". Pretty much immediately after. But this time he emphasizes how very repulsed he's feeling at the contact. "I shuddered as I bent over to touch him, and every sense in me revolted at the contact". Last time he had searched his body he didn't feel this way, but now he sees him as fully monstrous.

But also there's a potential different mirroring contact... Dracula's teeth on Jonathan's skin, Jonathan's shovel on Dracula's skin.

I've actually been meaning to make a post about this for ages. (Obviously. It's been months now.) And I think the final consideration has to include 25 June as well. Because that is when the reversals start to majorly kick in, and those reversals are a huge aspect of any touches going forward.

First, Jonathan's act of climbing the walls like Dracula proceeds right on the heels of Dracula first acting like Jonathan by wearing his clothes. And similarly to how Jonathan was unable to act while Dracula killed a child, Dracula becomes unable to act while Jonathan searches him for the key. I mentioned all of this in more detail in the post I linked above, so I won't rehash it all. But there's another comparison too: Jonathan bending over Dracula in his 'bed' while he is unconscious is a mirror at that time of when Dracula returned him to his own bed (16 May). Jonathan tried to search Dracula's clothes for the key, while Dracula undressed Jonathan. The first time Jonathan is touching Dracula instead, it's a reversal/echo in a lot of ways.

And that's relevant too for this final instance, culminating the castle's progression of invasive touch. While it's possible Dracula put a hand on Jonathan's shoulder or something while walking him back to his room on 29 June, if so it's another unmentioned touch. But, while I could absolutely see that happening, that particular scene might almost be worse if it doesn't have any touch at all, because then we bring back a horrible anticipation (fearful, on Jonathan's part; eager, on Dracula's) which is reflected in Jonathan hearing that he is 'Dracula's' tonight and praying while he waits to see what will happen.

Then we get to 30 June. We hear nothing at all about Dracula biting Jonathan, though I am convinced it did happen. And yes, he would be doing so in his human/old man form. Jonathan moves from the floor to his bed, so there's a strong chance that particular scene repeated itself once more... either before or after Dracula bit him. For reversal/mirroring purposes, I suspect that Dracula hypnotized Jonathan and helped/ordered him to bed first before biting him in his bed. And we don't know exactly what went down. We don't know how Jonathan felt about it. But I think it is likely a fairly direct contrast to the shovel scene... meaning, I think just as Jonathan emphasizes disgust in the morning, while being bitten I suspect there was at least some degree of pleasure. Similar to the "languorous ecstasy" with which he waited for the vampire ladies to bite him on 16 May. Of course, it would be mingled with disgust and fear, but if Dracula had control of his mind enough to ensure he didn't remember anything in the morning, then it's possible those emotions would have been somewhat suppressed or muted.

In the morning, while free of the direct hypnotic influence of a vampire feeding, Jonathan still is unable to remember what happened to him. And yet, as you said, he is absolutely repulsed by having to touch Dracula. Maybe this reflects a sense-memory even if he can't consciously recall what's been done to him. And he hates having to touch him... yet at the same time, he feels a "wild desire" to search for the key at any cost, and when he can't find it, a "terrible desire" to destroy Dracula. The only other time Jonathan uses that word in the castle is when he's describing his "burning desire" to be 'kissed' by the vampire ladies. Dracula says it several times though. Jonathan's desire to touch Dracula, first to take the key (which previously I've compared to Dracula wanting to bite Jonathan) and then to harm him when he can't find it, I think is indicative of another sort of reversal going on with Dracula's own desire/touching him to bite him that night. At the very least, even if you ascribe no relevance to that wording, Jonathan's shovel attack absolutely still echoes Dracula biting him. They both loom over the other one and pierce their skin/draw blood. The anticipation/building invasiveness is over with a final act of violence.

And while Dracula succeeds in biting Jonathan, he fails to turn him (technically the vampire ladies are the ones who don't do that, but I tend to assume it's something he wanted/ordered based on his line about hoping to see Jonathan in the castle again). Jonathan fails to find the key or kill Dracula, but does succeed in harming Dracula and escaping. Both strike a blow here but it's not quite the final one they wanted to happen.

So in the end, the touching culminates there with Jonathan echoing Dracula's touches, just as he did the other times he touched Dracula. But, and I think this is also really significant... while Dracula does far more touching overall, the whole saga concludes with Jonathan making the final touch. The reversal is completed. The dynamic at the beginning, where Dracula invaded Jonathan's space more and more while Jonathan was unable to stop him, is switched around. Jonathan is the one hunting Dracula, and he's the one who has to escape. If Dracula wanted to have Jonathan become a vampire, become a predator, then in a way it has come true here... except Jonathan is only interested in hunting Dracula himself. And since they both got out of the castle alive, that may become relevant later.

#dracula daily #count dracula #jonathan harker #touch count #replies #thegoatsongs #suuuuuuper belated. been catching up on some old asks today #my meta

204 notes · View notes

medic-simp · 2 months

Text

All Yours - Elizabethan Smutshot

Rating: Explicit || Word Count: 4.2k Content Warnings: vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, fluffy smut/porn with feelings

Masterlist || AO3 Link

Beta reader: @juniper-sunny <3

The door doesn’t give its usual squeak under his hand, footfalls are achingly quiet, and the silence is loud enough for two. You don’t have to look back at him to know he’s there; only feeling.

“You should be in bed.”

Silco’s quietude is deafening, nary a response save for his low chuckle. You finally turn over the back of your chair, hooking an elbow around the wood to keep yourself and your glaring disapproval in place. He may be amused, but you are certainly not.

You want to snap at him, yell at him, glare at him until there are two searing holes burned through those damned eyes. Orange and green burned to a crisp. Ignited until ashes fall from the weary bags of his eyes.

Alas, the fiery gaze you so wish you held does not come to your rescue, and the subtle crow’s feet of Silco's smirk break you.

He watches with rapture as your head hangs and you sigh, leaving your seat to stand toe-to-toe with him. Your head arches up, craning to meet Silco’s eyes with the way he towers over you, thin frame and smug grin consuming your line of sight.

“Is my little firespitter all out of fire?” His smirk is a horrible thing to look at.

Yes.

You repeat yourself, “You should be in bed,” and you’re sure Silco knows you want him out, yet he doesn’t budge.

“Why?”

Another sigh wrestles free from your chest, and you’re just now aware, vulnerable under this man, how truly frigid your room is. You cross your arms over your chest, feigning indignation as a poor disguise for how you wrap your arms around yourself.

“I am exhausted, and you shouldn’t be in my quarters–no less at this hour.”

Silco’s smirk widens, and almost in immediate contrast to such a wicked grin, his hands rise to hold your face with an unexpected tenderness.

You don’t tell him to stop, to unhand you, to never touch you again. You couldn’t tell him that even if you wanted to. The hinge of your jaw fits perfectly in his palm, the warmth of his fingers framing a precise cup around your cheeks.

“You don’t want me to leave,” he whispers. His eyes are pools of gentle tides and kindling embers, his gaze igniting a chill fever within you. “You want me to yield.”

Your lips part around a silent breath and you can’t stop the shiver that courses along your spine. The lingering promise of his touch is left to your discretion, a whisper as soft as his voice that may only rise at your word.

“I’ve said no such thing,” you counter, voice weak. You cannot stay firm against him, you wish he would relent. You wish he would yield.

“You don’t have to say it, I can see it.” Silco’s smirk fades, the arrogant lines of his face soften. You’re no longer looking at a tease, but just a man. You cannot argue with him and you don’t want to. For him to yield is the break you’ve dreamed of, the fantasy you’d thought no man could cater.

And yet, here Silco stands before you. Delicate, open, speaking a truth you’ve never heard before now. He steps closer, the edge of his nose a scant inch from yours. His eyes lower, softened gaze landing on your lips, throat, collar, lower, seeing everything that is you.

“Let me hold you.” His voice is but a subtle breeze to fan across your face as his hands ghost down your cheeks, along your neck, over your arms, seeking reverently for the heat of your touch.

“Let me hold you so that times and ages may pass behind us and only we remain. Let me shower you with the love and praises and all comforts and joys that I so desire to show you. Let me worship at your hands, your mouth, your lips, your feet; I am your servant to shape if only you say the word.”

Eyes stare longingly, a dual-toned plea that balances the delicate line between ice and fire, the crease between his brow softening all of the sharp features you had once known him for. He is reduced, sanded down, fully clothed and naked as sin all at once. Not even the many layers he wears now could hide how fully he opens himself to you, heart unraveling before your very eyes between devout verses. Yielding.

“Please.”

Silco’s throat pulses against his collar, bated breaths moving against tight frills and high buttons. Until this moment you had thought of men’s clothing as only a little ridiculous: the absolute difficulty they pose in getting one undressed. Now they seem utterly infuriating as you imagine the many steps you would have to go through just to feel Silco’s skin against your own, just to peek at the constantly tightly-buttoned column of his throat.

His fingers are still featherlight over your shoulders, not touching rather just gracing the folds of your sleeves, and you think you might go mad if he keeps his hands off you any longer. You’re not cold anymore, hands falling away from yourself, open to the soothing tenderness his hands might offer you.

“Yes.” Your voice comes out as a breathless whisper, but no matter. Silco’s mouth is so quickly on yours that you can’t even process the moment that it happens, only aware that he’s kissing you. It’s so warm, so desperate, so full of longing and eagerness; a flower of suppressed emotions and thoughts that blossom at such intimate contact.

His hands are warm on your shoulders, hot skin burning through your layers and gripping with a firmness like he’s making sure you’re real–that this is real.

Your hands claw at his lapels and sleeves, trying to rip the clothes off of him and instead having to fumble with buttons upon buttons upon buttons, with which he helps you, and you start ripping at your own clothes.

The hot, flustered burn of your cheeks spreads through you, growing into a full-bodied itch that only Silco’s lips, teeth, tongue, and capable hands can scratch. The only way you know how to act upon this feeling is to hurriedly work at your laces and buttons, pulling and loosening until you can slide your night dress most of the way off your shoulders, baring warm skin to the cool air.

Silco’s hands set you aflame, chest bared to you inch by inch as each button comes undone, more flicking open in the passionate storm of your combined fingers. It seems the both of you are caught between touching naked skin and trying to find more of it, shifting restless hands from hot flesh to damned-tight clothes and back again.

Hands push your chemise further down, exposing your bare chest to him, nipples hard from the cold air. Your lips part around a gasp as Silco’s hands cup your breasts, kneading until you open your mouth enough for him to slip his tongue between your teeth.

You’re not naïve, you’ve had men kiss you, but you never thought it would be like this. It was always about domination, power, taking. The tongue was a ruthless muscle that was forced in and never objected to–a lady should never object.

Silco never takes, he offers. His tongue darts in and recedes just as quickly, merely suggesting its use. You return the favor, tasting the burning whiskey in every corner of his mouth. At your affirmation, his tongue rolls against yours, and its precision sends a lick of heat to pulse low at your navel.

Your gown falls over your hips and to the floor, and though you’re left in absolutely nothing but your nakedness, the cold of the room couldn’t bother you less. Your skin is hot, and it grows to a raging fire when your hand comes to cup the hard ridge of Silco’s erection.

His hips roll into your palm and you eagerly steal the shuddering breath that leaves him, pressing against his body heat, wanting more and more of him.

Silco answers your silent plea, guiding you to your bed and a gentle waltz of heavy gasps and greedy fingers, clutching and holding with longing passion.

As soon as you’re sure that the bed is behind you, you fall back, waiting for Silco to come over top of you and take you. Your chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, and when you don’t see Silco, you sit up, only to find him on his knees on the floor.

“You didn’t strike me as one to pray,” you say, laughing breathlessly at Silco’s strange position on the ground. His feet are tucked behind him, hands outstretched like they’re frozen in time reaching for you.

Silco smirks, the same wicked grin from before tugging at his thin lips. Thin lips that are now red and kiss-swollen, wet with the lewdly intimate mixture of your saliva and his, evidence of your own eager tongue.

“I suppose that’s what some might call this,” he says, hands moving once again. They reach for your thighs and pull your backside to the end of the bed, your bottom half hanging off and your legs hooking over Silco’s shoulders.

“Why are–” you try to voice your confusions but your words are cut short as long, nimble fingers caress the inside of your thigh, and when you look at him again, Silco is staring directly at your core.

You can’t figure out for the life of you why any man would want to put his mouth on a woman, but as Silco’s nose parts your curls and folds, you wouldn’t dream of telling him to stop.

His tongue is a slick, vicious thing, delving in and making a path for his lips that give delicate kisses to your most tender parts.

“Ah!” You cry out to him when those lips purse around the essence of sensitivity, kissing, sucking. The delicious friction of his skin against yours, working you so perfectly, tightens a cord in your belly. You’ve felt it once or twice before on your own, the exquisite band that snaps back at you and leaves you panting and light as a feather. You feel it now, the tension that has your hips squirming and your thighs closing around Silco’s head.

It’s too much too quickly, too suddenly, and, as if reading your mind–or rather, reading your heaving chest and desperate grimace–Silco leans back, the sanctuary of his mouth leaving you with an embarrassingly slick pop.

“Thoughts?” he asks, and through your lust-addled mind fog, all you can manage is a subtle nod of your head.

You can hear his smirk, a devilish thing, and his hands are soon on you once more. You think he’ll blow you away again, kiss and lick you until you’re shivering and pushing him away for breath, but he doesn’t. Instead of the sharp edge of his nose diving in, you feel the chill of his fingers.

“Oh.” You can’t restrain your gasp at the sensation, one tentative finger gently pressing against your entrance. You can feel how soaked you are, the wetness that pours from you, leaking onto Silco’s capable digit as he slowly works you open.

“Slow breath out,” Silco hums, and when you release a patient breath, his finger pushes in. It doesn’t sting nearly as much as you’d expected, and Gods does it have you shivering when Silco pulls back that finger and thrusts it inside again.

Silco rises from his knees, fingers still anchored between your thighs as he slips a hand against the back of your neck, holding you.

“You’re alright with this?” he asks, and you’re trapped by the green and orange eyes whose glows soften when they fall upon you.

“Gods, yes,” you pant, and Silco stretches you further, adding a second finger. Your hips chase the feeling, that delicious burn. Unfamiliar is the thought of someone else bringing you to this quickly-approaching peak, but it’s so addictive.

“Keep– please.” Your hoarse whisper is met with a passionate kiss, the movement of Silco’s tongue matching that of his skillful fingers. It rolls against your own and Silco pairs that delicious lick with an artful curl of his fingers. Had you known of the sensation you would have tried it yourself long ago.

A low moan spills from your open lips, eagerly taken up by Silco’s ravenous mouth. Fingers stretch out, an open-close scissor motion that makes you whine. You wish he would curl them again, and you buck your hips in a pitiful attempt to bring back that angle.

Silco’s mouth slants against yours and he leans forward, the weight of his hips on yours minimizing your frantic bucking.

“I know,” he coos, voice a honeypot drizzling onto your tongue, “but this is for the better.”

You whine again and Silco’s thumb comes up to press into your clit, engaging measured circles that make up for the less desirable scissor of his fingers.

“Is that better?” he asks, knowing full well the ecstatic shocks those fingers are sending through you. On the off-chance that the quiver of your thighs isn’t answer enough, you nod against him. The ridge of him is insistent against your hip, throbbing between the press of your bodies.

“Please, Silco, please!” You buck your hips again, the cruel tease of his fingers driving you to the brink of tears. Silco’s sharp smile against your lips is somehow even more cruel as he removes his fingers just to take that bundle of nerves between two digits. Your mouth falls open as he rolls the pads of his fingers around your clit, loose cries of his name tumbling from you.

“Oh, darling, please what?” Silco croons, the gravel of his voice–silken, sultry, sinful–sends a pleasant shiver through you, your now-gelatinous muscles twitching with every nudge and pinch of his fingers.

“Inside, please inside, your cock, Sil!” Your cry for him is almost pathetic, garbled and slurred between blurry lines of ecstasy. The sensations this man invokes are wild, possessive, gripping. His grin at your plea is all of these equally so, the sharp lines of his face carved into ragged little arches and angles of gluttonous lust and pride.

Silco hums into your ear, “My little firespitter begs so sweetly for me,” and just like that, his fingers are gone. The heat of his hand against you disappears and you’re left with the aching want that consumes your entire being and makes your body weep at the thought of him taking you.

He brings crystalline-wet fingers to his lips, capable mouth–that you know the many wonders of now–working your wetness off his digits. From Silco’s chest rumbles a low moan.

“And she tastes almost sweeter.”

Your face heats up at such a crude comment, as if the rest had been any tamer, and soon Silco is kissing you again. There’s a bizarre new tang that each swipe of his tongue brings, but you’re quickly moaning against his mouth as you realize it’s the taste of you.

Hands slide down your body, cupping breasts and waist, the smooth dip of your hips and the curve of your buttocks. The frantic pull of Silco’s fingers against his trousers are obvious and you take to running your hands inside his shirt. It hangs off his lithe frame with majority loosened buttons, a white shroud around his body that traps his heat against your fingers as you explore each line of thin muscle.

Silco rears back to take off his pants, undergarments tossed alongside his bottoms on the floor, and you cannot help the magnetic force that draws your eyes down, down, down.

Long, curved, like a scythe one might find in a farmer’s hand. One prominent vein runs up the length of it, swerving to the side with a vicious, throbbing hook. The head of him is red and peeking out through foreskin, sporting pearls that threaten to leak over. The rest is thick, and just by eye you can feel its weight.

Lords above, it might split you in half.

“I’ll be gentle,” Silco purrs from above you, and when you meet his gaze again you find a clever smirk etched onto his face.

Gentle? The Gods couldn’t be gentle with that weapon if they tried, and he knows it. But you’d die a happy woman if he killed you like this tonight.

You match his grin, a determined smile breaking onto your hot face. “Don’t you dare.”

Silco growls and grabs the backs of your knees, pressing you against the bed. Any remaining tenderness from his confession–which you had forgotten completely up to this point–is gone as he slots himself between your legs and pins you down.

“You will know my love and you will know my wrath, and they will be synonymous to you tonight, my little firespitter.” His voice is a low rumble next to your ear as you feel the tip of him press and slide, collecting your wetness. He thrusts against your curls, nudging that wonderful little bundle of nerves that he teased so deliciously before.

“May the Gods grant me a life when I know those beautiful things every night,” you whisper, pulling Silco close so that you speak into the skin of his neck. His warmth surrounding you was more than you could have ever hoped to feel from him, and you’re really quite tempted to ask that he pinch you, just to make sure the sensations of his hands on you, his cock rubbing against you, his lips kissing anywhere they can find, are all real.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Silco growls, before pushing into you.

The stretch of him is overwhelming, but you’re thankful he prepared you as he had because it could be much worse. It burns through you, and yet the prod of just the head isn’t nearly enough.

You rut your hips up, wordlessly pleading for more, and Silco thrusts forward, sending himself deeper. He nudges the deepest parts of you, pressing against your walls which clench feverishly in your tension and excitement.

You’re about to say something when Silco breathes against you, voice a ragged huff of air and need.

“Can you take the rest?” he grunts, and you’re confused.

The rest? The rest of the process, he means? Lords above, if he doesn’t finish what he started…

You nod, too concerned with the fear that you wouldn’t reach your peak around him, or his inside you, and not fully registering what he meant.

That is, until he sends his hips forward.

The feeling of fullness from before is nothing as his sharply defined hips press hard against your thighs and his cock is sent further into you than you thought ever possible. What was once a gentle nudge against your walls is now an insistent pressure, splitting you open around him in the most delicious way imaginable.

A long, low moan manages to pry itself off your tongue and your head tips back, the press of him too deep to think, too thick to breathe. It all aches so perfectly.

“The rest…” you whimper weakly, breathless with how wholly you are consumed by him.

Silco chuckles. “I should have been more clear.” His voice is rough with desire, a low rumble of sinful tones. “Are you alright?”

You nod, air rushing back into your lungs as Silco stills his movements. His hands cradle your face, a delicate swipe of thumbs against your cheeks.

“Relax,” he whispers. You do as instructed, matching his patient breathing as the tension in your muscles releases. You feel yourself loosen around him, and it doesn’t hurt as much.

“You’re doing perfectly.” His voice is a gentle, guiding hum, red and green eyes at ease. The usually sharp, angular look of his face is softened. Pristine hair falling out of place. “Just tell me when to move.”

You nod again, and his head comes to rest against your collarbone, bladed nose hooking against its outline as he breathes you in. Hands are gentle, godly things. One set of fingers is tracing along your sensitive clit, easing whatever burn of him that remains. The other cradles your jaw, thumb running smooth circles into your heated cheek.

“Move, please,” you whisper, having decided that just inside is not enough.

His hips shift back–a slow, meticulous drag against your walls–before pressing into you again. Gods, it’s exquisite. One could swear to the lords above he gets deeper every time, bigger every time, like he swells within you.

“You are so perfect,” he breathes, voice hot against the skin of your neck. His skin is feverish on yours, sweat dewing on both of your bodies and mixing at every interval of touch. “Absolutely divine around my cock…”

His head lifts and he presses a light, almost chaste, kiss to your lips, the press of his hips picking up slightly. Where you once were hard, rigged lines against his intrusion, you’re now a puddle, melted and limp in Silco’s arms as he drags his cock against your walls with slow, indulgent movements. He cradles you to his chest, the heat of him too intoxicating for you to pull even a centimeter away. Arms swing over his shoulders, holding tightly to the shirt that still hangs loosely off his form, long-since untucked from discarded trousers and now dangling around both of your thighs.

Each thrust is a long, measured glide, nestling his hips flush against you and his cock deep within. You clench tight around him and he throbs in response, a give and take of pleasure so infinite you’re not sure where you end and he begins.

“Sil–” you gasp, and he calls your name in kind, a ragged grunt.

“You take me like you were made for it,” he sighs, pace picking up against your hips. “My little firespitter…”

Every whisper against your skin sends a shiver through you, breath hot as he speaks into your ear, sweet nothings rolling from his mouth like sweets. You take them greedily, completely at the mercy of his affirmations as his hips rocks into yours.

He’s big, and it had hurt before, but now all you know is the ecstasy of him inside you and the syllables of his name on your tongue.

You roll your hips up into him, clit grinding against the hard surface of his pelvis, sending him deeper into you.

Silco’s lips are at your jaw, relishing your gasps and cries with every thrust as you begin to chase your highs, bodies melting against each other at every point of contact.

Silco pulls back to look at you—to look at what must be the ruin of your face and hair—and after you’ve a moment to look back at him, at the sweaty, tender beauty that is his face, he kisses you. His tongue claims you this time, no longer hesitant as you lose yourself to him, to his rhythm, to his everything.

You moan, and he moans back. You shift and he follows your lead. Every scratch of his skin and tug of his hair is met in kind as you grasp at each other, desperately holding on as your respective climaxes build.

“Please, dear Gods, Silco!” you gasp, the feverish snap of his hips between your legs intensifying as he rears forward, adjusting his angle to hit that beautiful spot he’d reached with his fingers.

“Perfect, beautiful little thing you are,” Silco grunts. “Let me see it all come undone.”

His fingers are talented little devils as they dance along your clit, the smooth velvet of his voice guiding to your peak and sending you over the edge.

From your lips, a long, startled wail of Silco’s name, each letter a heavenly thing to savor as he demonstrates these otherworldly pleasures. Patterns of stars and lights burst from behind your eyelids, playing across your vision as your thighs quiver and shake. Fingers hold desperately to Silco and you feel the shoulder seam of his still-remaining shirt threaten to rip at your hands.

“That’s it,” Silco groans, hips still as his climax overtakes him. “Exquisite creature, you… feel… so perfect.” Warmth blossoms inside you as his cock pulses, each strong throb accompanied by another lick of heat.

“Breathe, my lovely,” he whispers, hand splaying above your breast and feeling at your pulse. “I’ve got you.”

You don’t even realize your feverish panting until Silco points it out, and you’re quick to catch yourself before a bout of dizziness—if Silco’s enthusiasm hadn’t made you a little bit dizzy already.

He shifts and you both hiss as he pulls out, the warm essence of him dripping between your thighs. Silco pulls his arms through the sleeves of his undershirt and drapes it over you, laying by your side.

“You were incredible,” he whispers, pulling your back against his front. His sharp nose finds a home just behind your ear, and his lips deliver kisses anywhere they can manage. “My lovely— perfect— immaculate…”

He trails off, and you sigh contentedly, a smile at your lips.

“All yours.”

#silco #arcane #arcane silco #silco x reader #silco arcane #silco x you #mdni #smut #lilith writes #medic-simp

95 notes · View notes

sorrowfulrosebud · 9 months

Text

I-incorporating self care into Shiggy’s rules in your dom/sub dynamic 😵‍💫

It was no secret that Shigaraki had no concept of self care. Most of his waking moments were spent at the cruddy bar, often nursing neat whiskey or scotch with the ashes of dead heroes and civilians caked into his clothes. And, of course, the one thing that bothers you most; those damned nails writhing into his neck.

The sound was disgusting; layers of flesh being irately torn away by misdirected frustrations. Thick lines of crimson blood and scab contrasted harshly against his milky, skinny neck. You hated the tiny thin spider webs of blood that trickled down his wrinkles, embedding themselves deep into his skin.

As his dominant, you warned him about the consequences of him scratching his neck. You would give him a warning; then a verbal and then he would be subjected to whichever punishment you saw fit. You knew it would be difficult for him to stop; it was his addiction. It was the only way for him to cease the horrible itch inside him to kill, even if his master greatly encouraged him to do as he wanted. You needed him to take care of himself, even if if meant putting yourself at risk of his childish tantrums.

The faint glow of the bar lights was a sharp contrast to the scene inside. Dabi was leaning nonchalantly against the wall, passing comments about your submissive. The stapled man was bored, and he knew the best way to entertain himself was to stick himself in his boss’s sex life.

“Well damn, handjob. Who knew it took taking it up the ass to get you to shut up for a bit,” he smirked slyly, staples clinking at the action. Shigaraki glowered through Father.

“Shut it, patchwork. At least I get bitches and don’t stink like burnt flesh,” he bit back, hand slowly tightening around his glass. Dabi let out a dry laugh.

“Seems like you’re the only bitch here. What a waste; (Y/N) is far too sexy to be hanging out with a freak like you. I bet if I ask them nicely I can get some playtime,” he grinned, deeply enjoying pissing his boss off.

“You shut your fucking mouth now, and don’t talk about them like that,” he growled protectively. You were All For One’s gift to him; someone to keep him satiated and relaxed whilst AFO could teach him dirty tricks. Although you were a distraction for the young boss, you weren’t a big a distraction to cause trouble or throw a wrench into their plans.

Your rules caused pain and pleasure; AFO’s rules caused progress.

“Heh, I haven’t seen you so emotionally attached to someone, apart from that UA brat you keep tryna kill. I’m bored now anyway, enjoy your cock cage and leather harnesses,” Dabi waved his hand dully, walking away before Shigaraki could at least destroy his new coat.

Shigaraki was seething on the other hand. His chest raised and fell quickly, causing Kurogiri to look at him with slight confusion.

“Stupid fucking patchwork, talking about Mama like that. If he wasn’t integral to my plan, I would fucking kill him!” He glowered, eyes widening in his rage. The whisky glass disintegrated in his hand as he brought his hand up to his neck. It felt like his neck was burning; surely a single scratch would suffice? The thought of a punishment lingered heavily in his mind. He already had his warning, and his verbal. But you weren’t here, just one teeny scratch. Just to make the itching stop…

Kurogiri could only look away; he knew of your relationship and what time you would be back from your mission. It was up to his young boss to follow your rules.

Twenty minutes later and Shigaraki felt better. One teeny scratch turned into two… then 5… then the next thing he knew, he was writhing into his skin like he had fleas. He hadn’t scratched in so long; and now he felt like crying after his Mama’s hard work was ruined.

“Are you alright, young Tomura? Do you need your neck wrapping up?” He questioned, indicating to the blood dripping down his collarbones.

“Yes Tomura, do you?” Your voice cut through the atmosphere as Shigaraki’s head snapped to your frame in the door.

“M-mama, I-,” he starts, already trying to correct his mistake.

“Don’t. Go to the bedroom. Now. I need to speak with Kurogiri for a minute,” you replied coldly. Tomura whimpered, slowly leaving the bar stool and walking to his bedroom. Fuck, he was scared.

You entered the bedroom about 15 minutes later, ignoring Tomura as he perched anxiously on the end of the bed.

“Mama I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he whimpered, trying to tug the sleeve of your shirt. You looked at him with a malicious glare.

“How many times have I warned you about scratching, Tenko?” You asked coldly, grabbing hold of his wrist. His heart beat was elevated, thudding in his ears. His cock was twitching in his trousers, itching to be free.

“T-three times,” he mumbled embarrassedly, milky cheeks growing hot.

“Speak up, boy. Tell me how many times I warned you,” you demanded. Tenko looked you in the eye as he felt embarrassment wrap around his throat.

“Three times, mama,” he whimpered. You let go of his wrist before bending down to his face level.

“And do you remember what would happen if I told you a third time, baby boy?” You asked him, voice deadly quiet and yet Tenko could only hear your dominance.

“I would be punished,” he said nervously. You stood up before extending your hand out. Tenko looked at you before extending his back. Your hand wrapped around his, soft but firm at the same time. You led him to the bathroom, where you opened the medicine cabinet for the first aid kit.

“Sit on the toilet, brat,” you demanded. Tenko whined at the nickname, before shutting up at your harsh glare. He complied quickly, heart still beating quickly.

Red eyes traced your movements as you found the expensive creams, lotions and bandages to fix your baby boy up. Tenko hissed as the disinfectant burned his neck, before silencing himself at your pointed glare. The cotton pad tickled his Adams apple, eyes trained to the ceiling at your feather light touch.

“You have such a beautiful neck, Tenko. It hurts me so much to see you ruin it, because then I can’t mark you as my own. You end up hurting yourself, and put yourself at risk of infection. I knew you wouldn’t stop, so I’ve bought some special toys to hopefully get the message through,” you turned away to wrap a bandage around Tenko’s neck, feeling him gulp around the gauze.

“I warned you, baby. I told you what would happen if you disobeyed me yet again,” you scolded, holding out a pair of nail clippers and a file.

“It was Dabi, he kept on saying stupid things and pissing me off!” Tenko tried to defend himself as you glared at him.

“Tattle-tailing? Really? You’re having this punishment, brat. Understand?”

“Yes mama,” he whimpered as you took hold of his hand. You worked your magic, clipping the longer nails, smoothing and buffing them to just below the skin. You continued on the other hand, touch feather light but still grounding enough for Tenko.

A slightly cold cream was placed on his hands, making him shiver at the texture. You massaged it in expertly, before commanding him to stay seated. Tenko looked at you with slightly fearful eyes. Sensing his fear, you sighed before cupping his cheeks and kissing his forehead.

“I love you very much, Tenko. But, you disobeyed my rules and you must repent. Do you understand me, sweet pea?” You asked him, silently asking for consent. Tenko smoothed out at the affection, wrapping his arms around your midriff.

“I understand mama, I’m sorry,” he murmured into your tummy. You kissed his slightly perspired blue locks as you tap him to release you. You quickly trotted out the bedroom before coming back with a new box and his artists gloves.

“Put your gloves on baby, I can’t have you breaking our new toy,” you purred, a sly grin on your face. Tenko complied easily as you opened the box.

Inside there was a set of black mittens, thick and bulky. Tenko’s face immediately went a bright pink. Next to it lay a thick black collar, a soft black trim on the inside and a loop with a tag on it.

“Now, give me your hands sweetness,” you said, holding a mitten as he extended his hand. You slipped the mitten on, a small shiver going down Tenko’s spine.

“Good boy. And the other,” you rubbed his hand encouragingly. Tenko did so easily, feeling weirded out by the feeling of the mittens on his hands. The thick buckle was tight around his wrist, not so that he would lose circulation but there was no way he would be able to shake them off.

“What’s your colour, sweetpea?” You asked him gently. Tenko thought for a minute.

“Green, mama,” he mumbled shyly. He looked at the collar. Your eyes followed his as you showed him the name of the tag, his cock twitching at the name.

“Mama’s little whore. Fitting, right?” You giggled sultrily. Tenko’s boxers were becoming more and more snug by the second, pre staining his underwear. He fought a whine as you rubbed your thumbs over the protective gauze on his neck.

“If you can’t be a big boy and stop by yourself, you’ll have to do it my way.”

“P-please stop! Mama, it hurts!” Tenko sobbed as you continued spanking his ass. Mittened hands were rendered useless as you had them cuffed behind his back.

“No, that’s not what I asked. How many times have I spanked you?” You hummed as you pulled his hair back to look at him properly.

“F-forgot mama, I’m sorry,” he pathetically snivelled, leaky cock rutting against your legs. His brain was slowly melting into total mush.

“We were at 50, brat, now we have to start again,” you growled into his ear, carmine eyes widening as he struggled in your arms.

“Mama, no please! Hurts, anything else,” he sobbed, mittened hand squirming. Touch was a major part of his sexual preferences; it grounded him and soothed him.

“Such a whiny little slut, aren’t you? Can’t handle the consequences of your actions? Fine then, I know other ways to deal with brats,” you grunted, squeezing and slapping the flesh of Shigaraki’s ass once more.

Tenko’s muffled sobs echoed throughout the room as the steady rhythms of the fuck machine grazed against his G-spot. His cock was spent; 8 orgasms later and the boy was a babbling lunatic.

His mouth was stretched around his black ball gag, garnet eyes crossed and rolled to the back of his head. His nipples were hardened and red from your teasing. Each orgasm, he fought to hold your hand but let out sobs each time his knuckle grazed against the mittens.

“I told you, baby. Don’t scratch your neck.”

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader smut #tenko shimura #Shigaraki smut #tomura shigaraki #tomura x reader smut #ugh fucking love loser shiggy #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bnha x reader smut

163 notes · View notes

lionheartedmusings · 8 months

Text

i've been rotating this in my head since last night and i think it's worth talking about regarding q!bad's current arc, but something that truly struck me was the music choice for the "switch up" yesterday specifically and i couldn't understand why... until now.

cc!bad doesn't do things halfway and so we have to assume every detail, music included, is intentional and used to convey something, the man is as unhinged about his lore as we are.

the music that played when he prepared to go down to meet the fed worker yesterday wasn't necessarily evil or creepy, not at all. it was triumphant — intense, yes, and it starts with what one could say is a suspenseful undertone, but not "here comes the creepy torture song" and more like "pump yourself up, because you have work to do, and it's glorious".

i feel like that explains q!bad and what he needs to do very very well, because it's a very sharp contrast with the song that played during his "acceptance" stream when he unleashed his anger and revealed what he'd done. two days ago, he reached a breaking point he hadn't in a very long time — lost himself to a level of inhumanity he hadn't in a very long time, without any semblance of a moral compass around and work to do. yesterday? well. yesterday, we saw a man on a mission — a positive one at that.

there's no madness to q!bad when he goes to presumably torture this federation worker, there's no "he's lost it and now he's doing horrible things" and i think that's a very important thing to keep in mind in this upcoming arc — he is very, very lucid and very, very sane, and he's not one bit sorry. in fact, he's pleased that he's being proactive. he's happy to go to work, i imagine not only because of his self-appointed mission but.. well, because it's fun.

there's a lot of angst to q!bad, but i feel like in this arc it's also relevant to keep in mind just how unremorseful he is about... just about anything related to his past. oh atlantis? oof... oh. yeah that happened woops. venice? we wouldn't want a repeat of that, hehe. the salem witch trials? oh those were fun! he talks about torturing people... all the time. i mean, we saw the man torture q!foolish, one of if not his closest friend, and he doesn't particularly care (one can argue that it's because q!foolish also doesn't care but there's something there for both of them).

my point being, i think the release of q!bad's anger and cruelty is a tough subject for him — he clearly is incredibly restrained. but the aftermath? the actual acts of cruelty that no one would condone?

he doesn't care. in fact, if he does care, he's proud of them and of what they can accomplish. it's fucking fun for him, it clearly puts him in a good mood, and it's not in a "he snapped" way at all. man just enjoys some good old fashioned torture.

i don't believe we'll see any remorse or guilt from q!bad about this, ever, perhaps even to his detriment. i truly think right now he's just happy he's doing something and if he gets to be sadistic and cruel and twisted while doing it? it's a win for badboyhalos everywhere!

#qsmp #q!badboyhalo #qsmp analysis #listen am i possibly seeing this entirely incorrectly? yes #but i think my man is not angsty at all when it comes to torture #i think that's his favourite hobby #badboyhalo

172 notes · View notes

theskysungqueen · 3 months

Text

to make things brief cause I suck at organizing what I have to say, the live action was definitely Something™.

Cast: 10/10 kinda biased personally but yall can't take this from me

Gordon as Aang and Dallas as Zuko were the standouts imo. Gordon needs some direction on line delivery and the angstier scenes but overall he's very charming and I'm so proud of him for getting so much exposure!

Ian as Sokka was great, I just wish he was allowed to be more...messy? like Sokka pretends to be chill and all that but he's actually dramatic so I hope that gets improved in the next season if there is one

speaking of improvement, Kiawentiio as Katara brought out a softer side to the character but sadly diminished her spark and passion. I like that Katara now actually feels like a younger sister, it makes sense within the context of the story that Sokka and Gran Gran would shelter her after what happened, but as someone said, her anger is so central to her character and I just wish that got shown more. It's more of a script and direction problem tbh, if you look at Kia's interviews she has the sass and feistiness Katara needs

Lizzy as Azula is great, the writing is a bit clunky though so she did the best she could with it. Can't really comment on Mai and Ty Lee yet because they're kinda just there but it's a nice setup

Maria as Suki? perfection show stopping never the same she is a queen and I love the tidbit of Suki backstory which she never really had in the og show. I love her being such a loser around her crush we love to see girlfailures girlfailing. I wish the writers didn't make them KISS though 😭 slowburn ftw

the adults were great

Writing: 6.5/10

There were genuinely good moments and I love the concept of mixing up certain plot points to condense the story

But they just suffered from too much Telling instead of Showing WRITERS PLEASE LISTEN TO THE CRITICISM YOU HAVE TIME TO IMPROVE PLEASE

Omashu, mechanist, and Jet plot mixing as a concept was fine, but it dragged on and my friends and I got bored of it. I like it in theory but if it was going to take THAT long couldn't they have just separated one of those storylines for a different episode?

I appreciate that they tried to develop the water siblings' relationship by making them the stars of the Secret Tunnels, but I would've changed the way they "conquered" the problem (really? badgermoles respond to love? cute in theory but like why). If anyone's watched Barbie: A Fairy Secret there's a part where Barbie and her frenemy accuse each other of why their friendship failed, and it helps them make up and breaks the curse put on them. So that's what I would've done, force them in a life or death situation in which they have to say the unsaid things, maybe hug it out and boom

The way they handled Koh and the Spirit World was a Mess™ but the effects were decent

Zhao meeting horrible ends in every incarnation is so deserved

Yue having more agency was a welcome change AND I LOVE THAT SHE WATERBENDS. Then waterbends even when the moon is gone. It's such a nice visual nod to the fact that she has the moon spirit within her

That said, the show could definitely use more visual storytelling, less weird dialogue. Like it's so strangely common for shows or adaptations these days to exposition dump. Like they did not have to make Yue say that the ocean spirit was angry, literally just show me the dead moon fish and I'll get the idea. Then Iroh says "That's Wrath" that's just redundant now isn't it

I like that they saved Katara bringing Aang out of the Avatar State until last even if it could've been done better

HOW DARE THEY MAKE ME LIKE HAHN HE WAS A JERK IN THE SHOW BUT THEY MADE HIM A GENUINELY GOOD CHARACTER. Yes to brown men not being portrayed as jerks but also in the original it was a nice contrast to how far Sokka had come because Hahn reflected who he used to be. But live action Hahn </3

I like that they showed the deaths and blood. I wanted a live action that was both lighthearted but more realistic when it came to the injuries and death, and that'd kind of what I got

Other thoughts + overall

You can tell they put so much heart into this show, watching the bts, the bending boot camp with the correct martial arts, the easter eggs, the nods to the comics, the beautiful adaptations of Cabbage Merchant and Secret Tunnel nomads, there's so much passion behind the show it's a shame it suffered in its writing

which is why if they read reviews and criticism from the bigger name fans (TheAvatarist, HelloFutureMe, etc.) it would really help them improve for future seasons! The cast is stunning already and they have great chemistry (hopefully gets improved too!)

The live action is just a different angle to the show. And I'm saying this as an Avatar fan–the original wasn't perfect, either. I had some problems w it but the overall show was genuinely so good and heartfelt, those problems weren't glaring enough to put me off (unlike The Dragon Prince, sorry). The live action definitely wasn't perfect, but it tried to give us a new look into Avatar. Again, no adaptation will ever be a 1:1 remake and none should be. Where's the fun in that? But while the show is so full of heart and with actual fans working behind the scenes, I doubt if they listen to any criticism that they can't pull this off better next season.

#atla #avatar the last airbender netflix #avatar netflix #netflix avatar #avatar the last airbender #netflix atla #avatar live action #aang #katara #sokka #zuko #iroh #azula

89 notes · View notes

artist-issues · 9 months

Text

Anyone notice the Compare & Contrast in Cinderella (2015?)

Nothing major, just another reason why this movie is so good: going to talk about Ella/Kit v.s. Lady Tremaine/the Court.

You know how Ella, and more secondarily, Kit, have to hang on to their faith in “have courage and be kind?” And you know how the book-ends of the movie are “Ella saw the world not as it was, but as it could be?”

Okay obviously Ella has to have courage to withstand abuse, but I think more focus is placed on her kindness: she’s kind to mice, she’s kind to lizards, she’s kind to bratty stepsisters and kind to a super-horrible stepmother. And what’s the opposite of kind?

Cruel. Lady Tremaine is cruel, but it’s because she sees the world as cruel. Unlike Ella, who is kind and sees the world as it could be.

How do I know? When she returns from the ball, she (cruelly) points out the fact that the Prince is not free to marry for love, the game was rigged, and then watches Ella for a reaction. And when her girls say, “it’s so dreadfully unfair!” The Stepmother says: “Yes…the way of the world.”

That parallels what another character, presenting an obstacle and contrast to Kit, says in the movie: the King. When he learns he’s dying, he says: “Way of all flesh, boy.”

Why? Because the King—as wise, and noble, and loving as he is (certainly no villain) is succumbing to fear as he gets closer to death. Not fear for himself; the movie shows no hint of that. But he literally tells Kit, “I want to see you and the kingdom safe.”

He’s afraid for Kit. He wants Kit’s safety, and the kingdom’s, and he can’t do what a father should do when he passes; protect. So he’s insisting on a princess, and the divisions that the Kingdom might get, to make it stronger, from an advantageous marriage.

That’s a great foil for Kit, who is kind, but is even braver than he is kind. He’s not being abused, like Cinderella is, but he is about to face a world where he’s got everyone’s fate riding on his shoulders—alone—without the loving father he’s always had. He has to become his own man fast, and defend what he believes in…

…no matter what’s “done.” No matter what’s proper, and no matter what everyone else thinks.

You have the Prince who must be courageous when even his own father is beginning to fear, and you have Cinderella who must be kind even to those who are cruel to her. It’s awesome.

But then, that whole idea of perspective comes into it.

The Stepmother is cruel because she has experienced what she believes is life’s cruelty.

She’s arguing with Cinderella in the climactic scene, explaining that her first husband, whom she loved, was taken from her—and then so was her second, who never loved her as much as he did his daughter, who is so much more beautiful than her own—and all the opportunities for hope that she had expected to come with him. Lady Tremaine thinks the whole world, all of fate, is cruel.

She’s been subjected to hard circumstances—the first thing the audience gets to learn about her is, “she too had known grief.”

Ella’s stepmother has had hardships—just like Ella. She lost “the light of her life.” She lost her second husband. She’s snared in debt, her daughters are mean and (by her own admission) stupid, and she doesn’t even like the house she lives in with them. She’s let her circumstances twist the way she sees the world. Now she believes everything comes at a price, and one that the world is just cruel enough to wring out of you.

Ella, on the other hand, has known even greater grief than her stepmother. We watch her lose her mother, her father, her dignity, and even (briefly) her faith in the course of the movie. By the time she has that conversation with her stepmother, she’s also apparently lost the chance to ever see the Prince again. But does she let it change the way she looks at the world? No!

She keeps seeing the world as it could be. She won’t let her circumstances change what she has faith in; that love is free, courage and kindness have power, and will carry her through all of life’s trials. And the characters that change the way they look at things—the ones who are willing to, like Ella, see the world as it could be instead of as it is, find it to be true. Look at the king!

We know (from what the Prince says: “the wars have brought sorrow on us all,”) that he’s seen hardship. He’s seeing how fragile even his own life is; it’s coming to an end. He has every reason to be afraid for his son’s future when he’s not there to help him.

He’s thinking, “the way of all flesh is to die.” And he’s hoping that by convincing his son to marry a princess, he and his kingdom will be safer. Safety, safety, because he’s afraid for Kit.

But what happens? He meets “the mystery girl,” who is, by definition, unknown, unsure, and unsafe. Clearly Kit is besotted with her; she bumps into him, then makes a darling little speech about how good and brave Kit is and how much he loves his father. And then Kit, who learned to verbalize it this way from Cinderella, tells his father on his deathbed, “I believe we need not look outside our borders for strength. We need only have the courage and kindness to see it.”

And when he passes away, he does so by telling Kit that he should marry for love—even though the girl Kit loves may never be found again; even though, when she does, they have no guarantee it will strengthen the kingdom. But this is the King, acting on faith that those ideals his son believes in, and his son, himself, will be see things through. That’s him, having courage.

He stops seeing the world as dangerous, first and foremost, and starts seeing it as it could be, like Ella and Kit.

Comparing the King’s fear to Kit’s courage, and the Stepmother’s cruelty to Ella’s kindness, was such a good choice. And comparing the way these characters saw the world as dangerous and cruel, versus how Ella and Kit see the world, was an even better one. And they used lines like “The way of the world/way of all flesh” to do it.

This movie’s so good.

#Cinderella 2015 #Cinderella #Lily James #Kenneth Branagh #Cindy #Ella #Kit #kate blanchett #richard madden #the only good live action Disney remake #the only good live action remake #the best live action remake #my favorite princess

157 notes · View notes

dandylovesturtles · 2 months

Note

Whats Draxum’s redemption arc in sideline look like (if he even gets one lmaooo)

thanks for the ask! this got long so I'm putting a lot of it under a cut

at this point, I have committed to Draxum's redemption arc in Sidelined, because I like Draxum and I love a good redemption arc haha. That said, as I've said a few times before, it wouldn't be easy for him, and it definitely wouldn't go down like in the show, where Mikey just kind of drags him into it. he'd have to work for it himself

it's probably good to start this by talking about my own interpretation of Draxum and the Draxum characterization I'm working with in this AU. while I love a good Evil Bastard Draxum, in canon I read him as more of one of those people who truly believed he was the hero so hard he tipped over into villainy on accident. which doesn't mean he didn't enjoy what he was doing, and he's definitely uncaring of the lives around him (he's got some of that mad scientist spark), but in contrast to the Foot Clan who are actively trying to subjugate the whole world (presumably under the belief that they'll get to be the top brass in the new world order), Draxum is actually just trying to save his people. a noble end, even if the means he's choosing involves eradicating another race of beings entirely. and I'm generally of the belief that if Draxum had actually kept the turtles, if he had been in charge of their raising, he might have initially started out thinking of them purely as warriors to be molded for his aims, but eventually would have come to see them as their own people, as children (yes, it's entirely possible to raise children and still have disregard for them as people, but I'm giving Draxum the benefit of the doubt in this one).

however, Draxum didn't raise them from babies - they just showed up at his house one day, raising weapons against him and blowing up his lab. so he's still thinking of them purely as warriors - young and inexperienced warriors, sure, but warriors nonetheless. he's not really thinking about how they're only teenagers, about how they might have dreams and wants and needs that have nothing to do with fighting, how they actually love and care for each other as a family. I said this in another ask, but Draxum thinks the idea of them calling each other "brothers" and Lou Jitsu "father" is actually laughable. in his mind, it's just pointless to even read any kind of family structure into their relationship. they are at most superiors and subordinates.

when Draxum put Leo in the Dark Armor, Splinter saw it as his fourteen-year-old son, his Baby Blue, being tortured and possibly killed right before his eyes. Draxum saw it as sacrificing a pawn in front of a general.

of course, callous disregard for a living person is bad no matter how you see it, but there's still a definite difference in perception here.

it's not until 1, Draxum realizes he was horribly wrong about what the Armor is and what the consequences of awakening it are, and 2, he witnesses the way the family reacts to what is happening to Leo, not as group of warriors down a man but as a family desperately trying to save a loved one, a piece of themselves, that it finally clicks for him what he's done.

Draxum goes on a long soul-searching retreat after that (he's also hiding from the Hidden City government but that's a side note). how could the love he had for his people drive him down such a dark and reckless path? how could he not see what was right in front of him, until he caused serious damage to the place he was trying so hard to save? how could he be so callous to someone who, annoying as he may be, is ultimately innocent?

initially he does this soul-searching far away from the Hamatos. he still has his powers in this timeline, so he makes do with stealing and finding places to take over and live. but at some point he starts thinking, maybe he wants to try and make amends for what he did, even if it's in just a small way. and even with his humbling he's still a little full of himself, so he's like, of course this ragtag bunch would want the help of Baron Draxum

(they do not)

so he starts by trying to give them practical help. he can imagine that Leonardo has significant medical issues following his time in the armor, and while it's not his primary field he knows enough about healing draughts to get by, and while there's no magic potion that will "fix" Leo, there are ones that can help with the pain and fatigue, in some ways better than human medicines, and that can help strengthen his immune system. He tries to give these to the Hamatos (specifically Mikey and Donnie while they're out scavenging one day) and gets pretty soundly rebuffed. Donnie is in "kill on sight" mode, and while Mikey is more likely to at least hear Draxum out, he also has no reason to trust anything the man gives them, especially when he suggests they feed it to Leo. so they don't take the offerings initially. Draxum eventually settles for leaving them in a cache near one of the sewer tunnel entrances, if they want it.

and then Leo gets really sick, and is in a lot of pain. Leo's immune system, like everything else about his body, is pretty weak following the armor, and he can't fight off the flu or an infection as well as he could before. so Leo is sick and in pain and Donnie and Mikey remember the cache of healing potions.

(I actually considered writing this fic awhile back and then never did haha, but here's what I had in my notes for it:

Splinter kneels on the side of the bed. "I'm sorry, Blue. We'll get you more medicine soon."

Leo reaches one hand out and Splinter takes it quickly. "Daddy," he whines, tears starting to roll down his cheeks, and oh, Donnie realizes, Leo really is hurting.

He quietly and casually deletes the last ten minutes of audio in his recordings. No one else needs to hear this.)

again, they aren't stupid - they aren't just going to feed Leo some random potions given to them by the guy that hurt him in the first place. but they can go find out if the potions are legit. so time for a trip to Witch Town!

they probably have some kind of misadventure while they're there (I'm imagining Mikey is joining Donnie and April this time), but they do manage to ascertain that the potions are legit. still, they end up getting the same potions made by someone else instead, just in case. but they remember that Draxum did try to help them, that time.

I imagine this happens several times, where Draxum just shows up to help them, they tell him to get lost after, before it starts to sink in that maybe Draxum is actually trying to turn things around. I don't think it ever quite gets to "Mikey calling him their second dad" level, but they do start to accept him as a begrudging ally and eventual weird uncle.

he has to seriously and sincerely apologize to Leo first, though. and Leo doesn't want to forgive him at first, and that's okay. these things take time.

anyway that's all. thanks for the ask again!

#sidelined au #I feel like I make Leo's relationship with Draxum wildly different in all my AUs lol #because his eventually relationship with him in 100ft is shaping up to be so much more positive

59 notes · View notes

gayofthefae · 4 months

Text

Stranger Things having multiple queer characters that are revealed to be queer after they've been established for multiple seasons.

Stranger Things having Will, who is sensitive and artistic and emotional. Wow, what a stereotype; what horrible representation. What beautiful representation that sometimes people do live up to stereotypes. And that isn't some moral failing on their part, that they should have been "less obvious".

Stranger Things having more than one, allowing Will living up to a stereotype to represent people who live up to stereotypes in contrast to those who don't.

Stranger Things having Mike, who thinks he's straight and tries to keep thinking he's straight and when he can't anymore he tries to force himself back into being straight but he can't. What beautiful representation that we don't just "realize one day". It isn't a switch that flips from straight to closeted. It's a fight. It's a long fight and you have to come to terms with it and sometimes it takes minutes and sometimes it takes decades but it is something you have to come to terms with.

Stranger Things having more than one nuanced, in depth, real time story of a queer person's relationship with their queerness to remind you that no, this isn't educational. They aren't doing their duty in telling the straight people what it's like. It's just a story, actually. It's just two guys who don't exist and this is what they went through. It's made up. Because it's all made up. Because there are no rules. Because there are billions of us and anyone could go through anything and there is no one way of being queer.

Stranger Things representing queerness as something you, wonderful ally you, want to understand but can't. And never will. Because you're kind and you're doing your best and yes, this still isn't for you.

#stranger things #lgbtq healing #lgbtq #the duffer brothers #will byers #mike wheeler #byler #robin is amazing but she hadn't been around long enough for me to be sure she wouldn't die so while i value the subversion GREATLY it still #wasn't this #but i do love her and value her representation as well #other representation isn't bad. it's just oversaturated.#will byers is gay #mike wheeler is queer

67 notes · View notes

shhh-secret-time · 4 months

Note

Can we please get some Poly Tweek and Craig? I'm so down bad for those two! Something spicy maybe? Love your stuff so far.

Oho~! This was was a little tricky to write but I enjoyed it! I do love those boys!

Warning: Dirty Talk, Blowjobs, Improper use of icing, Strong Language, NSFW

Pairing: Craig x F!Reader x Tweek

"She's gonna kill us man! Ack! Don't just sit there and eat the icing!"

"Why not? We're not using it."

"Dude! Just help me clean this!"

"Calm down honey, I am helping."

The two bickering back and forth brought a smile to your lips. Craig's monotone responses contrasted Tweek's rising panic, earning a little giggle. From the corner of your eye, you could see their shadows from the kitchen, watching Tweek's scurrying around frantically trying to clean whatever mess they made. You haven't walked into the kitchen yet, in fact you just got home. Calling out that you were home fell on deaf ears as the two were so engaged in their little argument.

Tweek's shadow was getting larger as he made his way out of the kitchen. Coming into view, you got a better look at him. He was covered in sprinkles and icing, the blue stars and little sugary delights stuck in his crazy blond hair. The white vanilla smelling icing clung to his cheeks slightly smeared across the pale flesh.

Where there was one the other was sure to follow, Craig following him with a pleased look in his eyes. Over time you learned how to read the tall blank faced man, learning that it was all in his eyes. And right now, his eyes held such childlike excitement, as he gazed upon Tweek's frustrated face. He wasn't as covered as Tweek was, but his blue hoodie had white powder all over the front of it, you guess he refused to wear the aprons Tweek owned, and his clothes paid the price for it.

"Where are you going babe?"

"What do you- what do you mean where am I going!? To wash this crap off! Since you didn't want to help with the kitchen you-" Tweek stopped in his tracks at Craig's question, turning to face him he hissed in frustration.

Tweek only stopped when he saw you standing in the corner of the living room. His eyes widened in surprise like he was caught in some horrible act. To Tweek this was a horrible act, his anxiety was screaming at him that the messy kitchen was going to make you blow up.

But it was the exact opposite, you were giggling and covering your mouth at how adorable they both looked. Craig stood there with a bored expression and Tweek twitching causing sprinkles to fall from his hair and onto the floor.

"Did you guys have fun?” You asked through your giggle fit.

"Yeah."

"N-No!"

You could only laugh again, shaking your head at your boys. Closing the distance between the two of them, you reached up and began picking the sprinkles from Tweek’s hair. You could hear his breath hitch as you pulled one off his cheek, stuck because of the icing, and popped it into your mouth. The little blue star melting on your tongue.

"Hmm~ lemme guess, cupcakes?"

"Hnng, y-yes! Craig and I thought... thought you were looking stressed recently, so we wanted to make you cupcakes!" Tweek explained through grunts and squeaks. His fingers were flexing until they found purchase on his sweater vest.

Craig only nodded along with his boyfriend, but he liked the idea you had and as Tweek spoke he picked a sprinkle off his cheek. When he popped it in his mouth Tweek's body tensed and shivered.

"Awh... guys that's so sweet! So, what happened?" You giggled again watching Tweek shoot a glare at Craig.

"Tweek freaked out because he couldn't get the cap open, fell back and the icing fell on him." Craig's responded faster than Tweek this time, the monotone voice cutting him off.

"Yeah, that sounds about right, but hey it's the thought that counts! Thank you!" You responded with a little shrug and a warm smile.

"Oh, the cupcakes still got made, they'll be done in a bit." Craig pulled his hand back when Tweek delivered a firm slap on his hand.

"N-now Craig and I are going to clean the kitchen a-and ourselves!" Tweek gestured to himself and Craig with a sigh.

"Oh~? Are you trying to tell me this isn't part of my little gift?" Your purr sent a shiver straight down Tweek's spine, a deep blush creeping across his face.

"H-hng no! I-I mean- it could be?"

Laughing at his reaction, you pressed your lips against his cheeks. The dried vanilla delight coming in contact with your lips made you hum. Your tongue darting out to collect the sweet icing that was already beginning to melt across your tastebuds. Tweek's body flinched in response, the feeling of your tongue gliding across his cheek pulling out a shaky moan.

"Hm~ did you offer Craig a bite? All of this can't just be for me." Your voice dipped to a sultry whisper as you finished cleaning off his face.

Your hot breath brushing against the shell of his ear made him whine out. Craig's chuckle now much closer than it had been a minute ago, Tweek could feel his breath fanning down his neck. Pressing an open tongue kiss into Tweek's skin, Craig bit down on the soft flesh. The sharp pain on his neck was quick but enough to make Tweek moan out.

"G-guys please." You smirked at the sound of his begging, which Craig mirrored.

"Ain't he sweet? Taste so good~"

"He does. Messy and sweet." Craig peppered kisses up Tweek's neck with a hum, Tweek's head tilting back in response. "Always a messy boy."

You hummed in response as your hands slid down Tweek's waist tugging on the belt loops. Following Craig's lead, you began pressing kisses on the other side of Tweek's neck down towards his shoulder.

Tweek's head was spinning from the sensation of both of his lovers assaulting his neck. His breathing becoming erratic at the love bites, the dark red marks Craig left behind and the teeth marks you were pressing into his flesh. Not to mention the way your hands were inching dangerously close to the button on his pants, your fingertips disappearing past the hem of his pants.

"Craaaaig, did you really not help clean the kitchen?" Your tone suddenly rang out, the warning making Craig stop and groan.

"I... ate the icing out of the bowl?" He muttered into Tweek's skin.

"Oh baby, that's not very responsible of you. I don't think you deserve this Tweek treat." Your hands cupped Tweek's hips to tug him away from Craig, who's brows furrowed.

Before he could protest Tweek let out a shaky sigh and wrapped his arms around you, immediately nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Just relieved that he could finally catch his breath, but more so that you were on his side.

"Why don't you sit down while I help Tweek get the rest of the kitchen cleaned up?" Taking Tweek by the hand, you lead him towards the kitchen.

Craig pressed his lips together in a thin line, if the way you said that didn't make his cock throb in response he'd be pissed. Leaning against the doorway, he crossed his arms and watched as you gently pushed Tweek back against the island counter. Tweek's eyes were wide as he watched you grab the bowl of icing, there was enough left to execute your little plan. His mouth went dry as he looked at Craig, the dark green of his eyes almost black with lust.

So preoccupied with the way Craig was staring the both of you down, he gasped when the cold air of the kitchen brushed across his exposed cock. His eyes flew down to your form, already sunk down to your knees with the little pink of your tongue sticking out. You had his pants down by his thighs, along with his underwater, his mind racing at how easily you could mold him. He was puddy in your hands and you knew it. You loved it even. You had a power over the both of them, it wasn't like Craig listened to just anyone. Someone with the kind of power to keep the stoic man by the doorway, someone with the kind of power to make his cock bob at the mere sight of you on your knees.

"Relax Coffee Bean, I'm gonna reward you for being so good. But I'm going to make you all messy again, okay? Continue to be a good boy and let me taste you." Tweek nodded at your command, his head shaking up and down vigorously. Anything you wanted; he would give. He'd give it all.

You smiled up at him as your fingers began collecting the sticky sweet icing in the bowl. Tweek felt his chest tighten when you began smearing the icing down his shaft. Just as he was about to squirm from the feeling of the thick cream on his cock, the feeling was replaced with your mouth around his cock. You started off slowly taking your time with the cute blond, your tongue swirling around the bright red tip. Each time he bucked against your mouth you had to resist the urge to giggle, he was trying so hard to not thrust his cock down your throat. He was already a twitching mess, but the incredible feeling of your mouth around his cock made it worse.

It didn't help that you could feel Craig's piercing gaze, watching you intently bob your head up and down; the icing smeared across your lips. Your hands trailed up the inside of Tweek's thighs, squeezing and holding on as if they were your last lifeline. Poor thing couldn't take it anymore, his hand flew down to your hair gripping the locks as he rocked into your mouth. Salty and sweet flavor pushed further down your tongue as slick pre-cum coated your tongue. Tweek felt his body tense up as he chased his release, losing rhythm the closer he got to his climax.

"I'm-I'm gonna cum, please let me cum! Please, please!" Whimpers and cries turned to begging that was separated by heavy panting, Tweek felt like his chest was about to explode.

Unable to pull away from his assault you gave his thighs a firm squeeze, letting him know it was okay to let go. A hum from your throat vibrating up into his cock made him throw his head back, eyes rolling to the back of his head. That was when you felt the salty liquid shoot down the back of your throat and your nose forcibly pressed against his stomach. Tweek's cries slurred to moans as he gripped the side of your head trying to anchor himself to you. Eventually, when he calmed down, he slowly pulled his member from your mouth. His hand shakily trying to message any discomfort from your scalp. You smiled and nuzzled your face into his hand as your swallowed down the rest of his cum.

"There we go, you did so good for me Tweek." You cooed happily, rising to your feet.

Using Tweek to stable yourself, you slid your hands up and down his chest feeling the loud thumping in his chest. Your smile died as a human shaped shadow was cast over the both of you. You knew what was coming, Craig didn't take teasing well if at all. The fact that he patiently watched you for this long was a miracle in itself. Rough hands, contrasting Tweek's gentle touch, grabbed at your waist forcing you back against his stiff member. You almost felt bad for the man by the feeling of it through his jeans alone it must have been painful, but any pity was thrown out the window when you felt him lift you up and press you against Tweek.

Normally Craig would have chuckled at the squeak that left your lips, enjoying the fact that you were suddenly so shy at the way he manhandled you, but right now the only thing on his mind was getting back at you. It wasn't fair that they could have a full conversation with their eyes and body language alone and it certainly wasn't fair that Tweek was so quick to betray you. His slender fingers fumbled with the button of your pants, once they were popped open Craig's fingers hooked into the waistband of them and practically shoved them down. With a frustrated huff he wouldn't bother giving your underwear the same patience, tearing them off with a snap. You yelped as you felt Tweek's hands grip your arms to hold you up and your feet no longer touching the ground.

In the back of your mind, you knew neither would do anything to really hurt you, but the way Craig looked at you made you feel like prey. And when he leaned forward, bending your body until you were smashed up against Tweek's chest, you knew you were in for it. His hot breath brushing against your skin as his voice dipped dangerously low, the kind you could feel in his chest as he spoke.

"Remember that I love you honey, because I'm going to fucking destroy you like I don't." The man pressed a sweet kiss into your cheek like he didn't just promise your downfall.

Your eyes widened up at Tweek who only gave you a smile in return, sickly sweet like he was enjoying this. The little traitor. When Tweek's hand caressed your face and he pressed a kiss onto your lips you should have known he was distracting you. Distracting you from Craig but from the way the tip of his cock drug across your wet folds there would be no ignoring him. Craig's arm hooked under your leg stretching your thighs until you were spread open perfectly for him.

You heard him click his tongue and then without missing a beat his cock slammed into you. The thick member shoving past your folds and immediately meeting that oh so delicious spot. Feeling Tweek smirk against your lips as you tried to cry out in pleasure, you swore you were already seeing stars. For as quick as Craig was going about bullying your insides, Tweek kept his kisses slow. While one was treating you like glass the other left bruises on your skin. Soft gentle kisses, tasting himself and that icing on you, peppering his lips on yours repeatedly; every time he pulled away you let out moan after moan.

"Fuck, the way your walls are clenching around me. You like this don't you? Like when I fuck you like this?" Craig wasn't usually so verbal but something about you and Tweek pulled something out of him. Maybe it was the way your walls clenched around his cock, fluttering at the way his voice got ragged. Maybe it was because he was addicted and finally getting his fix after you thought you could deny him. "Fuck of course you'd get wet from that, trying to choke my cock sweetheart?"

He stood back at his full height, no longer hunched over you to whisper filth in your ear. No, he was focused now. The shift was unbelievable. He went from short rough thrusts, rutting against you like a mad man, to calculated long strikes. His tempo didn't slow, if anything with your cunt sucking him further in it only encouraged him to speed up. Beads of sweat traced patterns over your skin, your arousal making it easier for him to keep up his pace. Tweek watched as you came undone around Craig's cock, felt your body tense up in his arms and your back arching. Tweek's fingers slipped down from your arms to your clit circling the pads of his fingertips around your aching clit, clear cum coating his fingers.

With your walls fluttering around his cock, Craig felt his release creeping closer and closer. He wanted to try and hold out to pull another out of you, Tweek already overstimulating you from his fingers, but he couldn't. Not when you felt so good around him, like you were made for him. After a few more slam of his hips, his cock pulsed and released deep inside of you. His cum painting the inside of your walls, filling your insides until you were stuffed and dripping.

For a few moments the three of you basked in the glow of each other, the sound of trying to catch your breath and Craig coming down from his high. Ever so slowly he pulled his softening member from your core, setting you down gently. When your legs failed to hold you up Tweek wrapped his arms around you. Gently placing you on the counter, he took a step back to help you both get cleaned up. Somehow the flour on Craigs clothes flew off and clung to your sweaty skin, the sprinkles from Tweek stuck to your thighs and shoulders. Instead of getting clean, now all three of you were a sticky sweaty mess.

Ding

“Cupcakes are done.”

77 notes · View notes