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kalopsia1sblog · 7 months

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“Ants’’

Dazai x Fem! Reader x Chuuya

Voyuerism, Deepthroating, Cum Eating, Orgasm Denial, Inappropriate use of ants, Threesome, Fingering, oneshot

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Being in the ADA has calmed Dazai down from his previously apparent sadistic nature. Now, it only became visible whenever he was fucking you and cruelly manipulating your orgasms to his pleasure. This past time he had pulled you into the nearest alleyway and flipped up your skirt, bending you over and roughly pushing his deft fingers into your wet folds and stroking your clit.

“Wow, so greedy for me already.” Dazai snarkily murmurs, kneeling down to see the slick leaking out of your pussy. You whimpered, pressing your hands against the wall as he continued to stroke and occasionally pinch your nub, almost letting you reach your high. When he suddenly pulled out his fingers and gripped your waist taking away your first orgasms you whined desperately.

“J’ wait a second f’me, okay? I wanna try something.” He grinned heartlessly as he pulled a jar out of his pockets, and while you tried to twist around to see what he was planning to do, he reached over to grab your jaw and force you the other way around again.

“So impatient, just let it be a surprise.” Dazai groaned as you felt a curious crawling over your thighs as a sharp shooting pain went through you. Crying out from the uncomfortability, you felt Dazai’s hands leave your waist as he pressed his fingers against your thighs repeatedly. Looking down you saw ants crawling over your legs and Dazai killing them just to smear the blood over you. Tears leaking from your eyes, you saw his sadistic smile as he took one of the ants and left it on his finger as he drug his hand across your pussy, letting it bite you more before he squashed it. The pleasure of his long fingers mixed with the pain of the bites led you to complete your orgasm. Panting, you didn’t even notice that someone else had entered the alleyway, and was watching your encounter with Dazai.

“Oh? Chuuya, what a surprise!” Dazai sarcastically said. “What, you want to join?”

“You really are a shitty guy, you know?” Chuuya tutted as he walked over and pulled your hair, tilting your head back to look at him. “She’s much too pretty to be your slut.”

“Ah~ so rude Chuuya,” Dazai woefully remarked, as he fisted his dick, preparing it to thrust it into you. “She enjoys it well enough.”

Chuuya rolled his eyes as he stuck two of his fingers inside your mouth, pleased when you started sucking them, the squelching sounds making him hard. His eyes roamed over your body, seeing the ant bites and how they were quickly swelling with fluid. A heat began in his core as he imagined you filled with his fluid. Pushing your head down to his dick, he groaned as you sucked his length, deepthroating it and swallowing his cum. You lifted your eyes and saw Chuuya’s head was leaned back against the wall, clearly about to cum. Feeling Dazai’s rough thrusts into your pussy, your moans were strangled as your mouth was stuffed full of Chuuya’s cock. After he ejaculated, you swallowed his thick load, and your mouth was finally released from the full feeling. You could feel Dazai about to reach his limit as well, and when he cummed, your core was filled to the brim with white. Chuuya and Dazai helped you to stand up as Chuuya knelt on the ground and started to eat you out, his tongue licking deep inside your pussy. Dazai tilted your head up as he kissed you needily, still tasting Chuuya in your mouth.

Breaking off the kiss, Dazai tauntingly said to Chuuya, “How’s the taste of my cum, huh?”

Chuuya glared up at him, white ropes dribbling down his mouth, as he continued to deeply suck and lick your needy pussy. You orgasmed over him, and once he finished licking it off his lips, he replied, “I can only taste her, shitty Dazai.”

In a delirious state, you could feel them carry you out of the alleyway and to a nearby hotel so you could properly rest after having been used so thoroughly by the both of them.

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A/n: Why did I write this.

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai smut #chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #dazai x reader x chuuya #i cried writing this #i feel so violated #new fear unlocked #i hate ants #i dont want to write ever again #i say as 20 mins later i start on another fanfiction #this is the first thing i wrote after getting over my writers block #i am so sorry ants

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hel7l7 · 8 months

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Looking at you gives me a stomach ache B. 0623

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.

I don’t.

This story is short and very simple. This story has been told a million times. This story is one about loving and wanting and always giving so much because you know what it feels like to never get anything in return. It is the emptiness you were born with reflected in them; it is them now. It is all them. It has always been them.

Did you know that none of this was ever real? That I probably only liked you because I knew you would never like me back? Because I am way too afraid to be loved by someone real. Want it all so bad but know I’m not ready.

I’ve looked into your eyes so many times and never saw anything but my own emptiness reflected.

I think we share the same pain but fail to understand how to reach the other.

There’s this emptiness. There’s this emptiness. There’s this emptiness. And inside it is fear. Endless fear.

Maybe you hate me as much as I hate you sometimes but don’t we just mirror each other?

Isn’t what you hate in me just a reflection of your pain? Isn’t what you hate in me everything you used to hate in yourself?

Don’t we just mirror each other? Isn’t what I hate in you just what I hate in me. Don’t you just show me that even though I want to be loved I still don’t believe I deserve it. Aren’t you the next one showing me that even though this is what I want I’m not ready. Doesn’t all of this just replay my past? Isn’t this just me on my knees again? Isn’t this just me begging? Begging and never daring to look away. This is me painting myself the savior, this is me seeing you and turning you into someone else. Sometimes I picture you as who I want you to be.

Pretend that all of this will all work out some day. Manifest you in my life, in my bedroom, I picture you in my shower, in my kitchen, imagine us eating together and going on a walk, I kiss you and it will feel nice and you’ll only touch me gently and soft, your kindness and patience magnified with my good hope and I’ll lose myself in the idea of you. Hope for a life that will someday be better than all I’ve ever known.

Some days I pretend you’re the villain. Think of every time you’ve hurt me. It doesn’t matter if you meant to or not. Pain is always a good source for creativity. I try to hate you but I can’t. Always blame myself more. It was me who went back time and time again. Who left myself at your feet waiting for you to pick me up again. – my friends have their anger now though. They teach me how to blame you, point at the flaws that are too big to ignore.

I don’t know how to reach you and I’ve gotten so tired of trying.

#S #vent art #venting #writing #this is old but i made pieces based on this writing and i wanted to post it anyway #somebody help me get over my writers block #u will be thanked deeply

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spacerune · 2 months

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I posted a new chapter to the silly jambalaya radiostatic fic! It's more of Vox being emotionally immature, but he is trying...kinda

I know it's quite OOC, but I hope you enjoy it 🖥❤️

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #alastor #radiostatic #one sided #can i tag this --->#radiostatic week 2024 #sorry if this is a painfully silly fic #i just really like vox and alastor #and i'm hoping they will help me get over my writer's block lol

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everythingwasalreadypicked · 2 months

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That moment when the guy that you all looked up to at some point haunts your relationship

#luke also should've haunted the narrative more but that's just my opinion #pjo #alabaster torrington #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percalabeth #smartwatermagic #my art #alabaster cheekbones torrington #oh to be lovingly having your face cupped and thumbs tracing over your cheeks #eugh <3 #is it obvious who gets drawn more bc I think it very much is lmao #it's such a shame I have writers block because I really want to write out them having a couple fight but on steroids #percy would very much like it if luke wasn’t frequently a topic of their fights #or at all

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thisblogdoesnotexisg · 1 month

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nevermoor has some sort of parade during may or march, i will not take constructive criticism because it does not have to be associated with st. patrick’s! anyway it’s kinda like a foodie tech show(?) where they show the latest edible inventions as samples, you can also buy more or donate so they can open a stall in the bazaar and make more products!

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felixsbathwater · 2 months

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so is anybody going to write the cattonquick shotgunning fic? no?

sighs

opens ao3

#saltburn #oliver quick #felix catton #cattonquick #i actually am planning on writing this #as soon as i give my ao3 a makeover and get over my writer’s block that is

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kinnbig · 10 months

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50 for KinnBig

50 - a goodbye kiss that says ''I don't love you the way you love me, and I'm setting you free''

When Porsche’s voice travels in from the hallway outside, Big pretends to be asleep.

His door crashes open a moment later, and then two sets of footsteps are approaching his bed. One set is slightly hesitant, awkward; belonging, Big assumes, to Porsche.

The other footsteps, Big would know anywhere.

“Oh,” Porsche is saying, “the nurse outside said he’d been awake today.”

“He’s just had major surgery,” Kinn says gently, “he’s going to need a lot of rest.”

His voice is low and contemplative, almost soft, and Big has to fight to keep his face still, force himself not to throw open his eyes and look, not to drink in every expression that crosses Kinn’s face, not to gasp his presence into his lungs like a man drowning.

It’s embarrassment that keeps his eyes firmly shut.

He doesn’t think he could look Porsche in the eye, look Kinn in the eye. Not now, not after what he said. After what he did.

It’s quiet for so long that Big wonders if he didn’t actually fall asleep and miss them both leaving.

Porsche breaks the silence with uncharacteristic uncertainty. “Why do you think he did it?”

Big suppresses a flinch.

Khun Kinn loves you so much.

Kinn sighs. “He’s an excellent bodyguard.”

Usually Big would be delighted with the praise. Today it sinks into his stomach, aching with something akin to grief.

Porsche doesn’t say anything to that. Big hears him scuffing his foot against the ground.

“Maybe we should come back later,” he says eventually, “when he’s awake.”

“Of course,” Kinn says, “you go ahead. I need to double check with the nurses about security.”

Big hears Porsche hum his agreement and shuffle to his feet, and then the door is swinging shut behind him and Big is alone in the room with Kinn.

The air feels thick with it; with Kinn; settling heavy on Big’s rib cage and making it hard to breathe.

Kinn’s hand settles on his shoulder. It burns like a brand.

“I wanted to say thank you,” Kinn says softly, “for what you did for Porsche.”

Big’s chest aches.

He doesn’t open his eyes.

It wasn’t for Porsche, he wants to shout, you know it wasn’t for Porsche.

Kinn squeezes his shoulder.

“You were right - I love him. I love him more than is sensible, and I - thank you.”

Kinn moves closer, and Big senses what’s about to happen milliseconds before it does. Kinn’s lips brush his cheek; light, chaste, gentle; and Big’s eyes flutter open involuntarily as Kinn pulls away.

He doesn’t look surprised to meet Big’s clearly conscious gaze. He just nods, formal and final, and collects his jacket from the arm of his chair.

“Take care of yourself, Big.”

He doesn’t say goodbye.

He doesn’t need to.

It was for you, Big lets himself admit into the emptiness he leaves behind, it’s always been for you.

kiss prompt ficlets 💖

#hrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr they make me feel BITEY!#thank you bee ILY💖💖💖#i wrote this mostly on the train today and i’m not totally sure how i feel about it #but i’m trying to set myself time limits with these (cause the whole point is to get over my writer’s block!) so! here it is!#kiss prompt ficlets #kinnporsche #kinnporsche fanfic #kinnbig #ask #ask game #osmiabee #darcey.txt #darcey.fic

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oceanwithouthermoon · 3 months

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sleepover kubosai was so cute i have to get back on that fr

#made a post about them and wrote half a fic and then abandoned it #its really cute though i prommy #theyre so in love #maybe i'll post the wip cuz i doubt i'll get over my writers block any time soon #kubosai #meows post

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blorbologist · 1 year

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Just wanted to be brave like you

Gen | 1.7k | Perc’ahlia and little Vesper | Modern AU | Just fuckin sad

Cross-posted to AO3

She’d warned him.

Vex had taken her husband aside when it became clear this film was on the agenda for the day. “Percy, darling,” she’d said, all filed edges and feather soft, “you don’t have to-”

“I do,” he’d insisted just as gently. “I’m not missing out on time with the women of my life because of a movie. Not an obligation, but a pleasure.” Then, wry: “Besides, we’ve both seen worse. Been through worse. The reviews are great, Keyleth has recommended it for as long as I can remember. Now is as good a time as any.”

“Are you sure?” And she’d pulled back to scrutinize him. Vex’ahlia is and always has been very good at that. There are no lies in him for her to find, though he suspected that’s not what she was looking for. “Percy, it made Vax sob the first time we watched it after our mother-”

She fell short of words, so he went the extra mile to find some for her: “I know, I know, dear. But it’s Vax. He’s like that. It’s a silly movie, and I have you both to protect me. It’ll be fine. Please?”

“Alright, darling. If you’re sure.”

She’d warned him, and he hadn’t listened.

Percy buries his face in Vex’s shoulder, waits for the music to pick up a little louder, and uses all this to cover a pathetic, wet sniffle.

Peeking through his lashes, it does not seem like Vesper noticed, too enraptured by the television screen.

She clutches her stuffie to her chest with a gasp. The dusty scene glides slowly over the still golden form of a magnificent beast.

“Dad?”

Vesper mouths no - he thinks, because his eyes are burning and he really can’t look a second longer. Percival de Rolo has another embarrassing, probably snotty sniffle in his wife’s (his, but she’s stolen it) sweater.

Why the fuck is he, a grown man, getting weepy over animated lions?!

Bless his wife - no I told you so, just a calloused hand running through his hair, over and over.

“Dad, c’mon,” begs Simba - he thinks it’s named Simba, “you gotta get up. We’ve got to go home.”

And fool that he is he looks up just in time to see the cub tug at his father’s ear - oh gods, just like at the beginning of the movie when he woke him up for the patrol - and the horror, the realization -

Percival does not say fuck because he is the father of a five-year-old. He comes close, though, because even a vehement “Fudge,” is wholly incapable of conveying how truly wretched he feels.

He knew the stupid lion was going to die. The film is just about as old as he is, and Vex had warned him repeatedly. For all that he never watched these movies growing up, Percy was not found under a rock either - everyone knows Mufasa dies.

It’s just something else, to be presented with the desperate loneliness again. This can’t be happening. He can’t be gone, they can’t be gone. Help - somebody, anybody, help. (And no one did.)

“Percy?” Vex murmurs, and he can hardly hear her beyond the raspy breathing. His raspy breathing. Oh dear.

“‘m coping,” he gets out.

They both freeze when Vesper starts whimpering. Percy just has time to see her cheeks become tantrum-red before she bubbles into hiccups.

“Vesper, sweetheart - what’s wrong?”

The words are a trigger - springloaded, she spins around to bury her face in Percy’s chest with a sob that breaks his darned heart. “I don’t want you to go-” she sobs, and that heart crumbles to dust in tiny hands when she takes fistfulls of his shirt.

“Dear,” and he’s so watery, he doesn’t want his baby to see him like this, surely it’ll make it worse, “I’m not going anywhere-”

“He promised! Papa, he promised!” He gets a shaking hand to the nape of her neck, rubbing soothing circles that do little to make him feel better. They don’t seem to help Vesper, either, who clings tighter. She also makes a very obvious smear of snot, which, really, is enough to get a choked laugh from him.

Vex might have paused the television - Percy can’t be sure, when she shuffles around to hug them both. “Vesper - little Whisper,” Vex whispers, barely beyond tears herself, “what do you want, sweetheart?”

“I want Daddy,” she sobs, “and - and you, and me, and - and-”

Vex’s free hand takes up running through as much of Vesper’s hair as she can. It usually works on her just as well as it does Percy - instead their little girl jerks back, almost offended her mother thinks she can soothe this new pain.

“He’s alone! His - his Papa’s dead and he’s alone and he promised-”

“It’s just a movie,” Percy warbles. Takes a moment to sound less devastated than his child. She needs him. “Vesper, darling, it’s okay. There are no stampedes here, no evil lions. We’re not going anywhere - I promise, I give you my word.”

He can’t promise that.

He knows better than anyone, anyone at all. There’s worse than wildebeest, worse than evil uncles. Long live the king, death to the de Rolos, there’s little difference.

But he’s a father, now, he’s Vesper’s father, and if this is her reaction to the understanding that he could die - that he could be gone - he will build every bulwark, every defense against her ever experiencing this heartbreak as he has. Fuck tragedy, age, accidents - he won’t leave his family. He won’t. Death will have to face him, and he’s got good odds that death will lose.

Death had won back then, though, which makes him clutch Vesper tighter.

One day. But he will fight for each one he has with them. And knows well Vex will do the same.

It goes around like that - the DVD player faintly whirring in protest, here and there, as Vesper keeps repeating the tragedy in her mind, as Vex and Percy keep trying to soothe her of it.

Vex shoulders most of it. Percy is still in much of a state himself, to his shame. Bouts of comfort before he needs to take some for himself: Vesper’s hazel eyes made dark grey by the film of tears, or his grief-rough voice sounding like his father’s to his ears.

It’s not fair to Vex, to be juggling the both of them. He hates this, badly, but struggling to keep his breathing even just makes it buck his control and throw him into more crying.

He has a family, now. Vex and Vesper and Cass and Vax and Keyleth and Velora and those bound to him by no law but forces greater than them. No one here is alone, and never will be again.

“Daddy, you’re sad.”

Well, so much for hiding it. Percy cannot exactly wipe away the tears regardless - hands full and all, and unlike his progeny he is not going to wipe snot on his shirt. “I guess I am,” he admits.

“You -” Vesper has to pause to work through the words - stuck somewhere in her throat, he thinks, maybe wiggling in her mouth like a frog, he knows the feeling. “You don’t-”

He leans into Vex’s touch. An anchor for the wave he knows is coming. He takes the time he can to measure his breathing before Vesper says, “I - Daddy, you don’t have a daddy.”

“No - no, sweetheart, I don’t.”

(He doesn’t include the list, the tombstone-script of names. He’s lost so much more than his father, but he supposes that’s a good place to start. Let alone Vex’s mother. One at a time, or he’ll break again and break worse and Vesper doesn’t need that.)

Vesper looks up at him with streaming eyes. “I’m sorry, Papa.” She squeezes him with all her might - which is considerable, to him. So much love to give and with no remorse. Those perfect little brows - more Vex’s than his - furrow something fierce, and she struggles just free enough of his hold to offer her stuffy. Who is also covered in snot. “’m sorry. Will - will Bauble make it better?”

And oh, fuck, he isn’t ready for that.

“Thank you, dear,” he says solemnly. “Yes - yes, Bauble makes it better.”

He lets Vesper press the owlbear (it was supposed to be a bear, but - Velora, dear, that’s a beak) to his chest, where his heart struggles to pet it.

“I love you, Papa.”

She says it often. More than daily, more times than he can count - and he has tried, diligently, to count and treasure each one.

This one makes his face melt into something awful, and Vesper looks so worried, so scared, and it’s because of the stupid animated lions -

He must have made a gods-awful sound, this time, because there’s a racket of tags and claws on the hardwood as a brown blur bounds over from the kitchen and launches himself at the couch.

Which he’s not supposed to be on, strictly speaking, but who could keep Vax from encouraging the habit? And who would dare fault him now when all the de Rolos shriek.

“Trinket,” Vex scolds, hardly scolding at all. “Down, buddy!”

He just wuffles and noses Vesper’s ear until she wails with giggles, shoving her open palms at their dog. Those get licked too.

It’s very hard to cry when a huge fluffy dog is whining at you for every whimper and licking at your mouth until they turn into laughs.

Percy will be sure to sneak him a little ham, later.

“Tell you what,” says Vex, in his ear. Vesper wiggles to look up at her, too. What must their daughter see? Vex is too close and his eyes too damp to make out much of her beyond redder than normal and shaky. What a portrait, what a distressing sight. “You remember what the daddy lion -”

Sniffle. “Mufasa, Mama.”

She smiles. “- what Mufasa said earlier? About the great kings of the past?” Trinket’s collar rustles when Vex ruffles his soft ears. “Later tonight, after supper, we can go look at the stars, and… talk to them. Would you like that, darling?”

Percy is fairly sure she means Vesper. But when their daughter pinches her eyes shut - overwhelmed? To think? - she’s looking at him with eyes he’d surrender his fears to.

Would he like that?

“Yes, Mummy,” Vesper burbles, with a final rub of her fist to her nose. She then pats Percy’s arm, snot and all. “Can - can we keep watching the movie, Papa?”

“It gets scary,” Vex warns gently. A glance at the screen confirms that Scar looms, some shadows in the dust behind him. “If it’s too much, just tell us and we can stop, alright darling?”

“Trinket will protect you,” Percy adds quietly. The thump of a stubby tail seconds that.

Vesper nods so bravely. “Alright.”

Dutifully, Vex - the only one with a free arm to reach the remote, and with the least gross hands - presses play, and soon enough the thrilling music and fast-paced chase have Vesper distracted again. Even Trinket watches, with his old eyes, laying his head on her little lap.

Percy brands a kiss to Vex’s brow. As hard as he dares.

She hugs him a touch too tight. It’s a promise.

#im Fine im totally Fine im so Fine im So okay I dont have Issues regarding dads dying i swear #critical role #cr fanfic #critical role fanfiction #perc'ahlia #percahlia #percival de rolo #percy de rolo #vesper de rolo #de rolo family #vex'ahlia #modern au #my writing #just a lil ficlet to get over some writer's block

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daisyachain · 6 months

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The nature of time is that (culturally) Christian Euro/Anglo colonial consumers (hereafter white ‘people’) fetishize the idea of being ‘close to nature’ or ‘primitive’ or ‘savage’ and latch on to the idea that there are groups of people in the world who are somehow bestial or who have some kind of special powers from holding animist beliefs/beliefs that acknowledge the body as opposed to the Christian belief that the body is a kind of useless appendage to a person. We see this across decades from the 19thC to today in the racist fetishization of indigenous people across the globe, particularly residents of the Americas, Australasia, and southern/eastern Africa.

White consumers use a warped conception of other cultures to live out the fantasies that the Christian soul/body stuff engenders. You keep getting told that your emotions and physical sensations are the devil’s work? You want to get in touch with those physical sensations, but you don’t want it to interfere with your worldview? Simply project them on to a convenient group of people with slightly different conventions from you. Imagine how cool it would be to be 100% physical sensation (especially those pesky violent and/or sexual urges) and no mental burden, then unleash that in a way that causes millions of deaths worldwide via the dehumanization of entire nations of people just trying to live their lives. White consumers love a Proud Warrior Race Guy.

Flash forward to the 2010s, it’s generally considered impolite to spread the same propaganda that justified the genocide and dispossession of many different groups of people. However white culture hasn’t changed that much and normal human activities still need to be explained away to maintain the veneer of white intellectualism that has been used to justify white violence for years and years. You can’t just stomp around and clap your hands and dance badly, you’ve got to project it somewhere else.

But wait! There’s a community of people considered ‘tribal’ and ‘savage’, considered violent and bestial, who were never colonized! It’s…the Norse. Fetishizing early medieval North Sea raiders can’t be cultural appropriation, see, they’re white! It’s not offensive to replace an entire culture with white (male) ideas of what’s cool if that culture is totally unassociated with colonizer stereotypes and is in fact a culture of colonizers!

And that’s my theory on why there are so many Norse-inspired folk bands/video games/tv shows/memes/literally anything in the 2010s. VSaga not counted because that manga has been running since 2003 and is actually well-researched and comes out of a culture with a similar but distinct tradition of racism. The Euro storytelling tendencies of needing some kind of violent avatar have taken on ye anciente Norseman now that people care a little bit about the gallons of blood used to sketch other ethnic stereotypes. Done and dusted. Except the other side is that the fetishization of early medieval Norse culture is literally just white supremacist 101 and a lot of artists don’t step around that nearly as carefully as they should

#it’s the old saw about rammstein being constantly talked up by American nazis because they can’t speak German and having to write a song #called ‘links 2 3 4’. asscreed/the northman/vikings tv/wardruna/god of war/whatever are fairly harmless cosplay activities #but taken together it’s like. where is the line between condescending cosplay fetishization (not great but whatever) and the sort of #idealization/valorization/historical erasure that plays into white supremacist rhetoric #after all—look at where we get a lot of pop culture viking imagery from: it’s Wagner #kelsey rambles #this is a long bad post about me having Spotify as blocked on my work computer and playing some faun and then letting the radio take away #praying and wikipedia-ing that it doesn’t take me to some dogshit nazi band along the way #which YouTube recs have done repeatedly. it’s a fucking cesspool out there in the metal/neofolk world #I also keep thinking back to Faun (neofolk forerunner) saying explicitly that they use central/south asian melodies and tonalities #the whole medieval folk aesthetic thing is a cobbled-together vibe that was created by 19thC romantics and 20thC fantasy writers #i just feel like there should be more of an…acknowledgement of artifice to ward off the nazis #I like neofolk music. I love vinland saga. I enjoy mountain scenery and stories of sea raiders.#would love to be able to enjoy it without looking over my shoulder all the time

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