#like. absolutely everything in me is in revolt against that
the fact that I have to make decisions and choices completely on my own and no one can make them for me is absolutely terrifying and disgusting and painful and I have never been more aware of it than this year.
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Hellooo I saw you write for haikyuu too so I was wondering if you could write one for Ushijima? With him being all desperate and frazzled compared to how he usually is.. thank youuu!
pantysniffer.
ushijima wakatoshi x fem reader
ushijima can't help but indulge himself every now and then.
warning(s): nsfw, size kink, overstimulation
minors do not interact.
ushijima wakatoshi is a pervert.
well, you can’t blame him. he really can’t help it. you’re the only person he’s felt this way towards, and after having dedicated most of his life to volleyball, he’s entranced at all of the strange feelings that keep surging up in his chest. he knows that he’s a coveted man, with all sorts of world renown volleyball teams willing to shell out enormous amounts of money to recruit him, but what consumes him most isn’t his ability, money, or even fame.
it’s you. a simple run-of-the-mill, average joe. nobody special, objectively speaking. your standard, everyday law-abiding citizen.
he feels revolting. ushijima also knows that if he were to just ask you nicely, you’d happily do anything for him. you’d eagerly crawl into bed with him and let him do whatever he wanted you to. he spends hours every other night groping at your tits greedily or stretching out your tight cunt with his thick fingers, but for some reason, the illicit thrill of doing something he shouldn’t is what truly gets him going.
“mmngh…” his eyes are half-lidded, and his big fist strokes his swollen cock. the dignified part of him crawls in disgust at himself, but the pleasure that coils deep in his stomach is nothing short of electrifying.
a pair of your cute, lacy panties are stretched over his face. his free hand holds the underwear over his nose, and he grunts into the thin fabric as he continues to fuck his fist. it’s freshly washed, so he can’t smell as much of you as he’d like, but it’s good enough.
there’s something humiliating about someone like him, a prideful pro player, rifling through your clothes so he can find something to get off on. you’re so sweet to him, and here he is, repaying your patience and love by acting like a pent up middle school boy who’s never seen a girl before. even now, you’re running chores so you can make him a yummy dinner, and he’s taking advantage of the empty house to jerk off to your panties.
his mind flashes to all the memories of you all fucked out thanks to him. your cute smiley face contorted as you moan into your hands. “you’re going to break me, waka-!” you cry out, and dry trails of tears stretch across your cheeks. “you’re so big- oh- ohhhh, s-slow down…!”
his balls tighten. his dick twitches embarrassingly hard at the thought of breaking you with his cock, and ushijima takes another deep inhale into the crotch of your panties. he’s too big, too much for his own good, and you’re so good at accepting everything in a way that makes him wish he could keep you pinned down underneath him forever.
he toys with the tip of his leaking cock with his thumb, flicking his sensitive cockhead. jolts of scorching heat crisscross through his body.
you smell so good. everything you do turns him on. the way you innocently blink up at him, take your hand in his, even cheer for him at his games… he should honestly think about anything else other than fucking you like some shameless animal in heat, but everything you do goes straight to his dick.
you’ve broken him. you’ve tamed the stoic, 6’4” spiker into some pervert. and you have absolutely no clue about it.
“f-fuck…!” he clenches his eyes shut, and he slows down his strokes. he doesn’t want to blow his load just yet. ushijima wants to savor this perverseness a little longer. he wants to imagine your soft body, bending and submitting to his calloused hands.
in his mind, he contorts your body into all sorts of positions: legs spread open for him on your shared bed, your smaller form pushed up against the wall and clinging desperately to him, bent over the coffee table… maybe he’ll even fuck you against the clear veranda windows. his cock drools hungrily at the thought of your embarrassed face, cute cunt tightening up even further on his monstruous dick as you squeal out about how someone’s gonna see the two of you fucking against the window.
good. maybe he should get caught. maybe that’ll get him to quit acting like a depraved man.
but he won’t. jerking off to your panties is too much of a guilty pleasure for him to get sloppy enough to be caught.
ushijima wishes he could smell more of your soft, sweet cunt on your underwear. he should have gone through your dirty clothes instead. then he could smell you clearly. a dirty thong. your sweaty sports bra post-workout. hell, he could even work with your sheets. as long as it reminded him of you, ushijima could easily conjure up all sorts of lewd daydreams.
he can’t stop panting against your panties and rutting his hips into his fist. “fuck- fucking hell-!” he cusses under his breath. he wants you, and he wants you terribly.
the faint whiffs of you that he gets from your underwear reminds him of the times he’d hold your trembling thighs apart. he’d eat you out until you were sobbing, his thick tongue invading every sensitive crevice of your hole. if only you’d let him, he’d suck at your swollen clit for hours. he’d let you push at his head to no avail, your tiny hands yanking at fistfuls of his hair. he’d moan against your cunt, and the vibrations would make you squeal and sob out his name. god, he’s obsessed. all of your little moans and squirms make him want to dominate you even more. he wants to swirl his tongue in slow circles against your entrance. he’d just tease you, wait until you were practically begging him to put something- anything- inside of your gaping hole.
“‘t hurts, waka- need you inside me…!” you’d plead, your voice thick with desperation and arousal. he’s molded you perfectly to crave his touch. anything else wouldn’t be enough. he’d swallow mouthfuls of your arousal, letting the taste spread across the inside of his cheeks and the back of his throat. and you’d moan so angelically for him when his tongue finally invades you, your drenched walls eager to get fucked out by anything he’d give you.
he wants to get you to cum. your pleasure is his pleasure. everyone expects him to be some kind of hard-dom sadist in bed, but if anything, it’s the opposite. all ushijima ever wants is to get you off. watching you melt in his arms from pleasure and turn into a fucked out shell of yourself is what he loves most.
it’s why he loves it so much when you try to shut your thighs around his head. it’s a sign that he’s doing well, that the pleasure is too much for you. he loves prying your legs apart with his strong hands, his fingertips leaving small bruises in the plump flesh of your thighs. your moans always devolve from coherent whimpers of his name to slurred over mewls, and god, nothing makes him harder than that.
even now, his cock jumps in his fist at the thought. ushijima moans under his breath, and he jerks himself off even faster. you make it way too easy for him to cum all over himself. what is it about you that turns him on this badly?
and eating you out has nothing on fucking you with his cock. he’ll leave you a mess, his entire mouth and chin drenched with your cum, and he’ll still want to stick his dick in you and make you cum even more. you have to be a stamina champ in your own right to keep up with him. you twitch and squirm when he grabs at your hips, and his enormous cock rubs in between your legs.
“w-wait, i’m still sensitive-,” you choke out. the tears that bead at your eyelids drive him wild. “i can’t take your cock right now…!”
“please?” his voice is low and pleading, but the grip he has on you is almost monstrous. you relent, your pussy coiling in and the dull thrums of arousal pricking at your stomach. his cock always feels good inside you. you’ve never taken cock as big as his, and after having gotten used to sex with ushijima, both of you know that no other dick (be it from someone else or a toy) could even come close to feeling as good.
“ahhh- waka- waka, please-” imagining your voice has ushijima squeezing his cock even harder. your cunt’s so tight, and it takes some effort to coax your taut walls into taking him whole. but you take him all the way, always. your pussy swallows inch after inch of his girthy length, and you’re recoiling into the bed by the time he bottoms out.
he’s gonna cum. he can feel it. daydreaming about fucking you out on his cock is the breaking point for him. ushijima grits his teeth, and his abs tense up. he presses his nose more desperately into your panties, needing the push to send him over the ledge. he squeezes his cock with his fist, rubbing his calloused palm all over the twitching organ.
he wants you, he needs you, he’s going to have you.
he vows to fuck you the moment he gets some time alone with you. after dinner maybe. he’ll butter you up with a few compliments, kiss your head as you cook, fiddle with the hem of your shirt. his cock twitches in agreement at the thought of having you so soon, and he groans. his voice gets louder and louder, unable to stop himself from wallowing in this lewd pleasure.
ushijima’s a filthy, filthy man when it comes to you.
nothing is sacred when you’re involved. he’s so, so insatiable greedy. all that’s on his mind is cumming, spilling all of his sticky cum all over his hand, pretending that he’s fucking your hole rather than his own fist. but your underwear and his imagination will have to do until your home, and trust him, it’s more than enough for right now.
“...kkgh-!” ushijima orgasms with a strangled cry. his vision blurs over, turning white around the edges. the pounding of his heartbeat inside of his temples escalates, and his balls tighten up harshly. generous ropes of pearly white cum shoot out, and it coats his chest, abs, and knuckles. the pleasure that consumes his body nearly knocks the wind out of him, and he throws his head back as he breathes heavily. your panties slip from his face and down onto the ground, and ushijima strokes his cock slowly through his high.
it’s so good. there’s a reason why he can’t get enough of this fucked up fetish of his. Even the shame that creeps in his stomach right after the pleasure starts to subside feels good. ushijima loves feeding this slightly masochistic side of him in dangerous increments. the coils of heat in his stomach unravel bit by bit, his vision starting to come back to its regular axis.
he sits there, stunned and still a bit fucked out. he’s overtaken with a horrendous need to see you and hold you, and he sorts his breath before deciding he should clean up and destroy any of the evidence.
…
…
…
“waka? wakatoshi, are you there? can you help me bring the groceries in?” your voice reminds him of a clear sunny day when he hears your keys fiddle with the front door before swinging it open.
he pads out to the entrance of your shared home, looking at you with his usual stoic expression as if nothing had happened. you smile at him, happy to be back with him. he wordlessly takes the heavy grocery bags from you, immediately moving into place to put them away in their appropriate place.
hopefully you won’t notice that one of your formerly clean panties has mysteriously moved from your dresser to the dirty laundry pile.
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Concubine!(Y/N), who gets into the palace because of a mistake made by her father, the general. Her native land is destroyed and literally trampled under the feet of a man who is called "a god born in the body of a mortal." When the soldiers came to her house, (Y/N) tried to escape from them, but ended up being caught and sent to the palace along with many other young girls.
Concubine!(Y/N), who was noticed by the emperor's chief aide, Suguru Geto, and promoted to concubine status.
Concubine!(Y/N), whom the emperor calls "an innocent and sweet girl" with a chuckle. (Y/N) doesn't look up at him, she only listens as he talks about how he is very curious about how his new concubine will survive in such a cruel place like the imperial palace.
Concubine!(Y/N), in whose heart an incredible hatred for the young emperor was kindled. Because of him, she lost her home and family, her status, her wealth, and everything else that fate had given her. Now she is ready to kill the emperor, even if it takes her own life.
Concubine!(Y/N), who quickly abandons her plans as soon as she really sees... him up close. No man from her homeland could compare to the young Emperor Satoru Gojo. This man, who was taller than any general or official, managed to smile as sincerely and warmly as little children do when they see one of their parents. His aura seemed to draw (Y/N) towards him. As soon as she looked into those heavenly eyes, she couldn't think of anything but the man who had ordered her family estate to be burned to the ground.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who changes her decisions incredibly quickly, but she absolutely doesn't care.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who is beginning to be called a "traitor to her motherland". Her own former maids turn their backs on her when they discover that she has fallen in love with the Emperor at first sight. But what they didn't know was that their lady's heart was never as kind and good as they thought it was.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who doesn't understand what's going on with her. She can't take her eyes off the Emperor. She wants to stare at him for hours, even if they put her on hot coals and force her to endure horrific torture. She would do anything to keep admiring him.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who seems to be enchanted by these heavenly eyes, given by the gods themselves. She doesn't know why she can't stop admiring them, as well as the fluffy white hair, pale skin, and cheeky boyish smile, as if Satoru Gojo isn't an emperor running a huge country, but a neighborhood boy calling (Y/N) to play with him in the yard.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who is gradually going crazy. Any rational thoughts are obscured by the emperor's face, the sound of his laughter, the smell of him, and the feel of his skin under her fingers. It's a trap set by the gods to force mortals into submission. Now (Y/N) understands why there has never been even the slightest revolt against the emperor in the empire.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who wants the emperor to be hers and hers alone. She's willing to do anything to get his attention. She is ready to trample her feet into meat to perform the most beautiful dance for him. She is ready to read hundreds of books to impress him with her knowledge. She is ready to argue for hours and listen to the speeches of the palace "smart guys" in order to please the emperor with a stupid joke or a witty phrase.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who is ready to go to study with prostitutes, just to please her emperor. And when their first night together happens, she's ready to give him all of her, leaving nothing for herself. So when Satoru gently removes her jewelry and whispers "don't worry, I'll take care of everything, you just need to relax and honestly whisper how much you love me", (Y/N) falls in love with him even more.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who falls into the abyss of depravity and sin, only to be the only one whose body is near the emperor's bed.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who notices that the other concubines don't consider her their "rival". They believe that (Y/N) is a "wild, barbaric", "daughter of a defeated enemy", "girl whom the emperor took into his harem out of pity". And it makes something that has been trying to wake up all this time open its eyes completely.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who with her own beautiful, well-groomed hands, which only recently played beautiful melodies for the emperor and touched his naked body, makes a real hell.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who personally plunges a dagger into the chest of her father, who has been in prison all this time, killing him. All she wants is for the Emperor to have no doubts about her loyalty! The emperor's advisor and childhood best friend Suguru doubts that the concubine is okay. "Satoru, she literally drooled after she killed her father and looked at you. I think she's sick or something." "She's just very loyal to her emperor. What's the problem, Suguru?"
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who along with killing her father killed her humanity.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who is suspiciously close to the palace doctor. Everyone is saying that soon (Y/N) will be pregnant with a princess or prince, so it would be nice for her to get an ally in the form of a good doctor. (Y/N) does not even know whether to laugh at the naive speeches of others or not.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who manipulates the first, youngest, concubine and forces her to run off with a young servant, with whom the other girl allegedly "fell in love at first sight". They are forced to leave the country because such behavior is interpreted as a betrayal of the emperor.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who uses sleeping pills, kidnaps a second concubine and sells her to a brothel. The girl can't even go back because she's declared a traitor and will be executed as soon as the guards catch her!
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who puts poison in the third concubine's food. Ah, what a pity that the girl suddenly died for unknown reasons! And the fact that (Y/N) secretly gave her small doses of poison that can't kill immediately has nothing to do with it! Just like the fact that the maidservant who had tasted the concubine's food had been drinking the antidote along with her evening tea all this time. Ah, it seems that someone is going to be hanged for poisoning her own mistress!
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who throws the fourth concubine off a cliff while walking. She flies straight at the sharp rocks washed by the sea, and then her body freezes, broken and pierced. Her flesh is devoured by predators, and soon no trace of the woman remains.
The main assistant!Suguru, who tells his close friend that there is definitely something wrong here. "The concubines started dying one by one after (Y/N) arrived at the harem. Maybe we should order guards to keep a better eye on her?" What for? (Y/N) looks so innocent, I'm sure she couldn't even punish a thief caught pickpocketing! Besides, what did these women want anyway? Being the emperor's concubine means putting your life on the line. There is no place more unsafe for a concubine than the imperial palace."
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who can't stand the thought of her emperor touching another woman. So when the lucky concubine returns from him, (Y/N) can't wait. She raises her dagger and plunges it right into the other girl's neck.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who cuts another concubine into pieces, strips the skin from those parts of the body where the girl could touch her emperor. In the (Y/N)`s head, Satoru Gojo belongs to her and only to her. Because who else can make him happier than (Y/N)? That's right... no one.
The main assistant!Suguru, who sees (Y/N) in front of him dismembering into small pieces a concubine who only recently smiled sweetly at him and asked what kind of tea their emperor prefers.
The main assistant!Suguru, who wants to call the guards or deal with the situation himself, but he freezes when he hears the same gentle, beautiful voice that his best friend constantly hears. He watches (Y/N)`s lips move, but he can't hear anything. It's like she's saying a spell that makes Suguru go away and not say anything to the guards or the emperor.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who, as usual, sobs violently at the funeral of another concubine, hiding a smile in the clothes of the emperor, who pulled her to his chest to hug and calm her down. She knows they won't be doing anything in his bed tonight. Satoru will just lie there, clutching the last surviving concubine, as if trying to protect her from the maniac who lives in the palace grounds and so skillfully evades justice and guards.
The main assistant!Suguru, who does not understand how he was manipulated that day, even when he is standing at the funeral. Still, he can't stay silent forever. He had to do something.
The main assistant!Suguru, who tells everything to his best friend, but in response, the emperor only laughs and sends him on forced leave. Suguru is afraid to leave his friend alone with a literally psychopath, but Satoru says that he is a great emperor, no one can beat him. Especially if it's some cute little concubine!
The Honored One, the Great Emperor!Satoru, who was born with special "Six Eyes" and "Limitless" abilities that only the imperial family knows about. Six Eyes can see everything that happens in the empire, so Satoru all along the identity of the little assassin slaughtering his concubines. Limitless also changes space itself, it gets into people's heads and changes their brains. And so no one... no one is physically capable of hating Emperor Satoru. They are simply fascinated by him, like puppets.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who was lucky enough to become the great emperor's favorite puppet. No one would believe that the charming empress who received this status from the emperor himself broke the necks of many elders who were not affected by Limitless with her own hands. No one would believe that there was nothing left in those beautiful eyes but a blind and obsessive love for the emperor.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who was another stepping stone for Satoru, so that he and his country ascended to the top.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who loves her emperor so much that she will be happy even if he steps or sits on her. She is willing to endure any humiliation if it comes from her dear emperor.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), whose mind most easily succumbed to the Limitless effect. But (Y/N) is all the same. She just loves her emperor to the point of cutting off other people's heads and breaking all her fingers if its make her emperor smile.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who, even if she knew about the existence of Limitless and looked at her actions rationally, did not want to take everything back. Because that's what she made the meaning of her life. And if her beloved emperor wants to use her in any other way than in bed, she will accept it with a smile.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who is so obsessed with the sweet, poisonous love of her beloved emperor that she has completely lost all moral foundations and conscience.
Concubine!Yandere!(Y/N), who is… happy even though her hands are covered in someone else's blood. As long as it's for the Emperor's sake, for Satoru Gojo's sake... she'll shed her own blood as well.
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I'm completely obsessed with and emo over the way Wilhelm carries himself now that he knows Simon loves him, too.
(just a sidenote, but the duality of love and devotion towards Simon on one side and revolt and confident deviance towards everyone watching him, including us on the other.... these frames make me unwell...)
Like, that's absolutely the stance and face (and smile) of someone who's done with putting his own and his boyfriend's (!!!) needs behind those of the people who never cared about what he actually wanted.
Knowing him and Simon are on the same page now, finally, really is all he needs to face off against the consequences of living authentically and openly. He knows that together, they'll be fine.
I'd like to think his resistance is starting here already, facing off Jan-Olof with this stare and not pulling away as fast as Simon - who after all just offered to be Wilhelm's secret - is.
It's so beautiful to see how much this has done for him in the S3 snippet. I feel like it's the first time he's moving like he's not a stranger on his own home anymore, like he's now commanding the place, like he's finally calling the shots. Sure, there are and there will be adversities (“I just wish it wasn't because of this”), but Wilhelm won't let them get in the way of him and Simon loving and supporting each other.
“They won't start without us” He knows it's true and really isn't giving a fuck anymore who might get mad at them, he knows that they won't be able to play this down, make him deny everything again, they can't take back his confession in front of every single phone in all of Hillerska, and he won't let them try to, either. He's ready to fight, that revolution they started back in season 1 is now really picking up, and they're in it together.
And god, it looks like it's healing him so much, he's so confident now, Simon by his side really gave him the strength he needed.
Like, the journey from the way he's desperately holding on to him at the confession, seemingly drinking it all in, those words he probably hasn't even dared dreaming of hearing from Simon and do taken aback by his emotions to the way he exudes confidence, strength, and conviction even in the face of adversity... the development is so beautiful.
The combination of love and confidence is one hell of a drug, and Wilhelm gets both from and through Simon... I'm convinced they are going to be one hell of a power couple this next season.
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》 heaven.
zamasu x afab reader
summary: zamasu isn't fond with another mortal flirting with his favorite human, and he's done sitting back and watching.
(original was posted on my main account, this is rewritten in second person!)
warnings: minors do not interact, explicit content: fingering, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, possessive themes, rough sex, overstimulation
word count: 2.4k
↳ "i've never seen you so nervous."
to have a supreme kai staring you down - it's a harrowing experience. silver, narrowed eyes were looking through your irises and right into your soul. standing mere inches from you was zamasu. and he did not look pleased.
"zamasu." your voice came out weak. "what's gotten into you?"
his jaw clenched ever so slightly. "the concept of one of those barbaric mortals even so much as thinking that they have the right to someone as divine as you is absolutely revolting."
you blinked a few times. that's what it was about. "he... just asked for my phone number. i told him no."
"as you should have." his voice cold. using his finger, he tilted your chin upwards. "and as you should do for every single one of those filthy beings who dare to ask for even a sliver of your attention."
"i... don't understand. you know how i feel about people." his hand was cradling your jaw, thumb brushing against your lip. "what... is this about, really?"
"what is it about?" he was eyeing you lovingly. "it's about the fact that there is but one being fit to claim you."
swallowing roughly, your lips parted just a bit to murmur, "... who?"
he chuckled and purred, "me."
your breath caught in your throat. his expression was stoic - never changing. there was no glimmer in his eye that hinted at a lie. "you... want me? but i'm..."
"... a mortal? perhaps, but you're a special case, dear." his confident aura was penetrating through your skin, paralyzing you. "i'm just surprised that you never noticed. mortals do tend to be quite oblivious, so i won't take offense."
"you... want me." your voice came out barely audible, like you were trying to convince yourself that this was true. it made him smirk. to him, you were so small and weak. and the lost, clueless look on your face was making it better. "in... what ways?"
zamasu moved centimeters closer to you, speaking in a low, sultry voice. "in all ways, darling. if that's alright with you."
"wouldn't that... break rules?"
"supreme kai law? i suppose." he brushed a piece of hair from your face, leaning ever closer. "but you and i both know that i care little for those old-fashioned doctrines."
"i see." a brief silence followed, and your eyes were darting around his face. it was a second that lasted for hours. "... it's alright with me."
"are you sure?" he tilted his head in a sarcastic manner. "once you start, you won't be able to stop. you never will. i'm sure you're aware."
your jaw was trembling ever so slightly. "i'm sure."
he smirked in such a feral way that it exposed his fangs, and he chuckled to himself. "good. that's exactly what i wanted to hear, my dear."
that's when his lips crash into yours, startling you. you didn't think he would ever actually do such a thing. to break his moral code and kiss a mortal? a human, of all things? it was ridiculous, but you weren't going to look a gift-horse in the mouth.
he pushed you against the wall, doing his best to mind his own strength. hands slid down your sides as you began to reciprocate the kiss. his tongue pressed into your mouth, strangely-cold spit mingling with your own. in fact, everything about him was cold, even his skin. yet, his passioned burned like an out of control fire.
when he pulled back, he mumbled to himself, "exquisite. even better than i imagined."
trying to catch your breath, you push out, "you... been thinking about me?"
"of course i have." he presses his body against yours, hand resting against the side of your neck. "you invaded my thoughts. thoughts of purity, righteousness, and justice being tainted by ones of desire. i tried so hard to resist, but you've simply made it to difficult. i want nothing more than to devour you and invade your mind in the same manner."
he begins to kiss you again. his hand was pulling at your shirt, and then he separated from you for just enough time to remove it. with a growl, his lips met yours again, and his hands moved to your chest. you were being suffocated by him, and that's exactly how he wanted it to be.
"come here." he growled that against your lips, with a flushed look on his face.
he pulled you toward the bed, and turned you around. your back was facing him as he pulled you into his lap, and his cool breath was hitting your neck. his hands slid up your thighs, to your hips, and your chest. he unclasped your bra and threw it to the side. you felt him tense up as he rasped, "you are simply divine, darling."
his lips met yours as his hands played with your chest. teasing your nipples, you whimpered right into his mouth. your hips rolled against his still-clothed legs, leaving you with only half the friction you desired. when he diverted his attention to your neck, your head fell back against his shoulder. kissing and nipping at your skin, he was so pleased by the reactions he was getting from you. it was even better when you groaned out his name in such a desperate manner.
his breath shook as he said, "oh, that was marvelous. oh, how i've craved to hear my name like that."
he bit the side of your neck hard, lightly sinking fangs into your skin. every time he did this on a sensitive spot, you groaned. his hand moved to your hip, guiding the movements so you couldn't stop stimulating yourself. he was just playing with you, and you knew it. you cursed yourself for not expecting him to be a sadist.
"a sadist?" you heard him chuckle. "my, my. i suppose so. look who isn't as innocent as i believed?"
you forgot that kais could read minds. his hand slid under your skirt, moving dangerously close to your heat. fingers dragging along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, your hips bucked toward his fingers. it made him laugh. "so reactive. is there something you need?"
his voice made your body hot. "i... need you to touch me."
his fingers inched closer to your clit. "you'll need to elaborate, sweetheart."
"your fingers." you panted that out. "in me."
"that's a good girl. that wasn't so difficult, hm?" he pressed a kiss to your neck before placing you down on the bed. on your back, he took no time to slip off both your skirt and panties in one simple movement. his eyes didn't leave you as he removed his overcoat, hanging it over a nearby chair. as he climbed over you, he mused, "i like to think of myself as a benevolent god. i'm happy to give you what you need, you just need to ask properly."
his hand touched your clit after that. exploring everything with his fingertips, he gave you a light kiss on the lips. feeling your slick, he teased, "to think you could get this worked up so quickly... that's sinful, darling. i've barely done anything. or, perhaps, i'm just that good?"
you tried to respond, but you were stopped when he pressed tow fingers into you. he pushed them in as far as they would go and curled them, making your entire body jolt. "zamasu!"
"needy, are you?" you looked down at him through one eye. he pulled his fingers out and pushed them back in, repeating the motion at an agonizingly slow pace. you were squirming, body craving more. "i wonder how loud you can be. let's find out, hm?"
he was finger-fucking you at a steady place, always forceful on re-entry. it'd make your body jerk every time, and he was watching your face contort with pleasure. then, he curled his fingers, prompting you to groan his name. a crazed look in his eye formed as he growled, "again. do it again."
his fingers quickened in pace, causing your back to arch up. that's when he laughed, and a third finger pressed into you. the stretch sent heat shooting through your body, and your toes curled. watching you like a predator, he was quickly learning how to make you squirm. you mewled out, "zamasu... i... gonna...!"
and just like that, his fingers stopped. the high you were right on the edge of faded out of view, leaving you speechless. zamasu was smirking darkly, and he laughed to himself. his fingers withdrew from you as he said, "beautiful. you'll take me so well. i can tell."
your lip quivered. "but, i..."
"hush, darling. you will." again, he read your mind. he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before whispering, "relax. give me a moment. get comfortable, hm?"
you felt him move off the bed. your head was spinning, but you had enough sanity to pull yourself upwards, resting your head on a pillow. your eyes were shut as you caught your breath, listening to the sound of fabric rustling. then, zamasu crawled back over you, brushing some hair from your sweat-covered forehead. "feeling alright, darling?"
you leaned into his touch. "yes."
he leaned against you, and it was the first time that you felt his skin in such an intimate way. he kissed you passionately, hands roaming your body. his length was rubbing along your folds, sending a shiver down your spine. with a sharp inhale, he said, "i'm going to ravage you, now."
you nodded quickly. "i know."
you folded your arms around his neck, and he allowed you to touch him without protest. his forehead pressed against your own as he began to slide his length into you, leaving your mouth agape. he let out a beautiful groan himself, a look of pleasure breaking out on his face. your nails raked at his skin as you whimpered, and he chuckled softly. "i know, sweetheart. it's a bit of a stretch for you, isn't it? you can handle it. i have no doubt."
"oh, god..." you groaned that with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. upon being fully sheathed within you, his body shook. you were adjusting quickly, and he was using every fibre of his being to hold himself back. his breath was shaking, and he was starting to sweat. finally, you whispered, "move."
zamasu wasted no time. he pulled himsef almost all the way out, and then thrusted back in all the way to the hilt. he did this a few more times with a grin on his face. a look of ecstasy. he leaned back just enough to push one of your legs up, and he gazed down at you as he mused, "this... is a sight i could very much get used to."
you didn't get much time to look at his skinny, yet toned physique before he started driving himself into you at a rapid pace. your hands were searching for anything and everything to grab ahold of. mewls were pouring out of your mouth, and his head was thrown back. hands gripped your skin as he moved, and it wasn't long before you were pushed over the edge. walls closing around him, he groaned in such a way that made your orgasm even more intense. "gods, that was amazing. i wonder how many times i could make your poor little body do that for me, hm?"
an idea flashed through his head, and he was quick to flip you onto your stomach and pull your hips up. he drove himself back into you, holding onto your hips with a death-grip. he leaned over your back, pressing you down as he brutally fucked you. "there's no conceivable way that you're a mortal. you feel far too good."
"you..." you could barely speak. the sheer amount of girth hit every spot possible. sparks of pleasure were shooting all over your body, and it wasn't long before you just allowed noises to spill from your mouth completely unfiltered. "so... good."
"you poor thing. you can barely speak, can you?" he said that arrogantly and bit your neck, pressing your head down against the pillow. "do you enjoy being mercilessly dominated by a god?"
between breaths, you responded, "i... do."
he grabbed your wrists and pinned them behind your back, continuing his with brutal pace. "and what god is giving you the privilege to feel such a thing?"
"you!" you came undone again as you said this, which made him grunt.
you felt his nails digging into your hip. "louder! tell me who you belong to, mortal!"
you cried out, "you, zamasu!"
"heh... good girl. that's what i thought." with that, he returned you to your original position. he plunged back into you while delivering a violent kiss to your lips. one hand remained on your hip, and the other tangled in your hair. the pace of his hips managed to get faster, and he was overwhelming you. your body was in a constant state of pleasure, and you had no idea if you'd come again or not.
when his thrusts began to get wild and disorganized, he couldn't continue kissing you. his head fell into the crook of your neck as he panted. "oh, gods."
with a particularly hard thrust that slammed against your cervix, he came right into you. his pace slowed, and his body eventually rested against yours. with both of you panting, he recovered much quicker than you ever could. he purred, "you took that very well."
you opened your eyes just a sliver to look at him. "thank... you."
he relaxed himself, and took the opportunity to cradle your head against his chest. his fingers tried to straighten up your hair. being in such close proximity to him - it made you feel untouchable. you heard him murmur, "i think i'm going to stay here for a while. if you don't mind."
"no... i don't." you could feel yourself falling asleep. you were the one exception. the one treasure. "don't mind..."
"hush. you're rambling, dear."
"... sorry."
"it's alright." he pressed a kiss to your forehead. to sleep in the arms of a god - it was a luxury that you thought you'd never be given. then, zamasu's voice purrs, " sleep, darling. no harm will come to you so long as i'm here. that, i promise."
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A troubling need pt. 3
pt. 1 pt. 2
(tw: dub-con, violence: wc: 1.2 k)
With heavy steps, Tomura quickly followed after (Y/N), not realizing that the the people around him noticed his obvious erection, as he followed after the girl, not knowing whether or not his heart or cock throbbed more with each step.
Tomura had to calm his ragged breathing, being fully aware that he sounded like a complete maniac, but the little common sense he had quickly fell apart, as his hand instinctively grabbed the girl by her throat, lifting his pinky so he wouldn't disintegrate her... yet.
"Open that mouth of yours, and I'm going to make the heroes pick up your scattered remains off the pavement." Tomura spat with an almost maniacal grin, as he pushed his little hero into the alleyway, not knowing whether or not to break her arm for making him wait for so long, having to jerk off to low quality videos of her online, but the violent thoughts were quickly turned into nothing but sick lust, seeing the girl tense up underneath his touch, as she recognized his voice immediately.
"Did you get embarrassed over losing to the pros at USJ, so you're making up for it by molesting a student from UA, Shigaraki?" You spoke, trying to make your voice sound steady and unfazed, but (Y/N) was scared shitless at the thought of what he was going to do to her.
Tomura sneered, but his amusement quickly grew into annoyance at hearing this little bitch try to talk back to him, after everything she'd put him through. "This has nothing to do with your idiotic friends."
(Y/N) felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as Tomura gripped her face and stared directly into her pupils with a crazed expression.
"You have no fucking idea how much cash I've spent on your dumb merchandise. From those little trinkets, to a whole skincare set! I bet that shit would give me a rash." he said with an almost disgusted expression, which quickly turned into something far more sinister, his slender fingers rubbing lazy circles over her face, moving his finger across her lips, and (Y/N) felt disturbed at the gentle touch combined with Tomura's creepy grin.
But the soft touch was quickly gone, as he shoved his fingers into her mouth, eyes wide in surprise at the squelching noise (Y/N)'s mouth made.
"If you bite me, I might just rip your tongue out. So be a good little hero and suck."
The sudden intrusion felt sickening, his slender fingers making you gag, but you obeyed, not wanting to suffer more than necessary.
"What an obedient bitch you are. I wonder what they teach you at UA, if you're so eager to act like a whore in order to save your pathetic life." Tomura laughed, taking his fingers out of her mouth, before promptly shoving her on the ground, making (Y/N) grumble in pain.
He undid his belt, before picking her up by her collar and shoving her against the wall, making no effort to act gentle as he disintegrated her clothes, brushing away a few specks of dust that fell on him.
Tomura paused as his hands reached her pussy, making an almost audible gasp as he felt your wet core.
You almost wanted to cry in shame, feeling disgusted at the fact this was turning you on so badly, even though you were shaking from fear. The thought of Shigaraki using you as a fucktoy felt humiliating and absolutely revolting, but the way your walls clenched made your rationality disperse.
"My fucking God. You really are a slut." Tomura was almost in disbelief, his inexperienced hand travelling across her slit, touching the unfamiliar area, and worked his way to her entrance, shoving his fingers in without any preparation, grinding his erection into her ass to try and relieve the aching feeling that was making his entire body feel scorching hot.
"I'm going to — hah, fuck you stupid." he said, sick of trying to take things "slow", and pulling his fingers out of her pussy, wrapping one of his hands around her throat, while the other was holding her hips, before plunging his erection into her, hard, letting out a string of curses at the tightness he felt for the first time.
"This is what you get —", Tomura began, his hips moving erratically, focusing solely on his pleasure, groaning more as he saw (Y/N) squirming and trembling underneath him, her legs shaking as her fluids dripped down her thighs. "for making me wait so long to fuck you."
The alleyway was filled with sounds of Tomura aggressively fucking the little hero he so desperately craved, obscenities leaving his mouth after each thrust.
Those long nights he spent tearing himself apart over having to touch himself with his disgusting hand are finally over, since he now has a hero fucktoy, and the feeling of her tight gummy walls against him almost felt better than killing those shitty heroes. Almost.
It didn't take long for Tomura to feel his climax building up, and he internally berated himself and his virginity, getting so pussy-drunk that he was going to finish so quickly.
"I'm going to fill you up with my disgusting cum. Your righteous hero morons will never look at you the same way, knowing you've been defiled by me." his voice sounded shaky and breathless, orgasming with a harsh slam of his hips, laughing as his little hero screamed out in both pleasure and pain, tears streaming down her face from the overwhelming sensation.
Tomura pulled his cock out, not before leaving a hard slap on her ass for good measure. He didn't give her the time to catch her breath, turning her around to look at him, before gripping her throat with such intensity that she instinctively started clawing at his hands, choking and coughing violently.
Tomura didn't release his grip, but his intense gaze made your head pound even more, and you let your hands fall against your sides in defeat.
"Good. You should know that your place is beneath me." he released his grip on her neck, resisting the urge to kill her right away, knowing he'd regret it later - he still needed his cute hero cumdump for later.
"Oh right." Tomura laughed, realizing he disintegrated her clothes at the very beginning, and laughed even harder. "Good luck with that. At least everyone will know how much of a whore you are." he looked her up and down, taking in the sight of her body stained with marks and bruises, her sharp breathing and trembling figure.
Tomura grinned like a madman, taking a picture or two, before giggling like a little girl. He walked out of the alleyway, leaving the poor hero to fend off for herself...
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I’ve been meaning to send this request for a while now, but I let my desire for a seemingly nonexistent “perfect” moment get in the way. 😛
Anyway, your take on the Autobots’ names and their meanings is still one of my favorite posts of yours. I’ve come up with one or two meanings of my own for a couple of the characters, but I’m curious about what you think the meanings of the Decepticons’ names would/should be. :)
I've been meaning to get to this forever. Sorry this took me an eternity and a half to get around to writing for! Hope you like it!
Decepticons and their Names
Just like the Autobots, the Decepticons developed alternate names to keep their true names secret while still hinting at it. They didn't bother trying to appear more human or adjust their body language in any meaningful way. They simply never saw the need to comply with human naming conventions. However this does not mean that their true names aren't known to anyone.
Soundwave knows just about every bot's true name. It was part of procedure when it came to joining high command. A Decepticon couldn't rise through the ranks if they weren't willing to give Soundwave their true designation for security reasons. And while not the most well received of moves, it did end up keeping quite a few revolts from happening with the perpetrators true name on the line.
Soundwave however is not a mech who would abuse what power he has been given. As such, while he knows the names, he does not use them against the bot whom the designation belongs to unless absolutely necessary. Still there are times when he needs to reconfirm designations and he takes great care of them.
Megatron's true designation is long, a testament to his age and a show of his wisdom. His name has changed greatly over the millennia, but core features of it always remain even through every alteration. His name when translated into human language is roughly akin to [Resilient-Spark-Defiant-Fighter-Silver-Tongued-Truth-Speaker-Seeker-of-Change-Sword-of-Vengance]. It is as shortened a version of his designation that can be managed. If his whole name was written out, it would rival Optimus's in length. When spoken aloud his name sounds like a long forgotten chant, one whispering of times long gone all while the grinding of gears echoed quietly amidst it.
Shockwave's designation is an odd one that contradicts itself over and over again due to the changes he underwent on the Council's orders. Its almost painful to look at when written simply because of how unpleasant it is in its contradictions. His true designation is so unsettling to look at that Soundwave has put it away and refuses to even so much as glance at it until it comes time to check his files. The name comes out to be something along the lines of [Kind-Spark-Empty-Vessel-Hopeful-Light-Bringer-Endless-Void-of-Knowledge]. When spoke aloud it is both lovely to hear and painful for the audio receptors. It sounds like the humming of a spark within its chassis combined with the gentle whistle of wind, but is contradicted by the dull and toneless notes of steady clicking and grinding that nearly cancel the musical qualities out entirely.
Starscream's is surprisingly lovely and holds greater meaning than one would expect. Starscream was after all, not always a traitorous glitch fond of cowardly retreats and greed. Once, long ago Starscream was a noble leader for his people, doing everything in his power to protect them only to at some point lose himself along the way. His name comes out to be [Guardian-Star-Guiding-Beacon-Swift-Lord-of-the-Skies-Radiant-Jewel]. Starscream has always taken great pride in his true designation and has never once uttered it aloud, not for anyone. Even when giving his designation to Soundwave, he merely wrote it down and did not speak at all. However based on what can be gathered, if it was to be spoken aloud it would sound a great deal like the swaying of trees, the chiming of bells, and the constant thrum of a jet engine preparing for takeoff.
Knockout's designation is odd considering his personality, but Soundwave has always assumed that it is simply a matter of the medic having changed over his lifetime. However even with that in mind, there are still bits and pieces that apply to the persona Knockout presents. His designation translates into something similar to [True-Sighted-Spinner-of-Dreams-Faceted-Child-of-Visonaries-Bright-Sparked-Healer]. Perhaps his name spoke of an age where things were different for Knockout, a time where he was more hopeful, open, and friendly. But either way, when spoken aloud his name sounds like the distant trickling of raindrops on a tin sheet, the swaying of tall grass amid a storm, and the crackling of distant thunder all soothed by the gentle patter of stones down a hill.
Breakdown's name was by comparison far clearer and easier to see where it came from. His was straightforward, a perfect representation of his character and spoke of his true pureness of spark. His designation almost made Soundwave wonder just what the warrior was doing amid the Decepticon ranks. His name spoke of someone more suited toward the Autobot's ideals of purity, that with his name translating to mean [Warrior-for-Justice-Protector-of-the-Meek-Gentle-Giant-Comforter-Guardian-of-the-Vulnerable]. Even the sound of his name sounds like it should belong to an Autobot, that with it being like that of the quiet humming of a loving parent combined with the war chant of an army preparing to fight for their homeland.
Dreadwing's designation is one that Soundwave has no real opinion on but finds somewhat fascinating due to how it speaks of his character. It is fairly straightforward much like Breadown's, but like all true designations, it is special in its own unique way, even when translated to [Stoic-Watcher-of-Shifting-Tides-Bound-Protector-of-Spark-Shards-Enduring-Warrior]. Its spoken notes are much like the beating of hammers on an anvil accompanied why the bellows of a beast in the deep. However there is a soft undertone of wind rushing past rock, creating a gentle whistling sound. Overall a fascinating mix of sounds and meanings, but not too noteworthy in Soundwave's book.
Then there is Soundwave's name, the one he has not shared with anyone, not even Megatron. His true designation is something he has kept to himself simply because... he hardly remembers it. A true designation should be something a bot always remembers, but with what Soundwave was forged to do, only bits and pieces have stuck over the millennia. It is something that pains him. He wishes he could remember it all, but as he can't he has filled in his name as best as he can using what he does recall, earning him the translated name [Silent-Keeper-of-Knowledge-Custodian-of-the-Dark-in-All-Tireless-Watcher-of-Eternity]. He has not said it aloud, but he guesses that if it was, it would sound a great deal like the near silent murmurings of mecha long dead and the gentle swaying of all sorts of structures. His name would hardly even be capable of being heard if not for the quiet din of a stone falling into water that would echo quietly should his name be said out loud.
So many names, so many meanings, and Soundwave keep them all dutifully.
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Randy, uh your music is a lil distorted buddy
On the other hand, have a good ending, where I lovingly gave him a new bandaid (I was tempted to give him a mean nickname, but I like him way too much to do that out of curiosity)
Have my fruitsona, who gave birth to multiple Kamells
My ramble about my thoughts on the game's demo and Randy under the cut,
!! DIALTOWN SPOILERS !!
So, I found Dialtown after scrolling through Omori crossover fics on Ao3 and "phone dating sim" immediately caught my eye.
I don't play dating sims that much these days, but I checked out the steam page, and the premise was so bizzare and the artstyle was so interesting that I had to give it a try and downloaded the demo version.
and wow, what I played was the demo??? I had roughly 4 hours of playtime, and I'm pretty sure I haven't explored everything. The first ending I got was the sock puppet ending which ended my first playthrough rather quickly, next I somehow stumbled blindly into Karen's ending, and then I pursued after Randy in which I was grossed out, felt pity, and then affection for the poor soul that is Randy.
All I gotta say is, I love him man. He's somehow a loveable idiot despite being so spineless and his circumstances being so sad.
As for the game, I'd describe it as a parody on dating sims, being equally qUiRkY as it is vulgar and nihilistic. The narrator being a figment of Phonegingi's rapidly deteriorating mental state reminds me of Pizza game by Jelloapocalypse, except the dialogue doesn't wanna make me bash my head against the wall.
The game's aesthetic? They absolutely nailed the cheap scrapbook vibes, also I like how the characters being object heads are an integrated part of the world and not just because the devs thought it just looked cool. I've not pieced together all the lore, but from what I've gathered, everyone (including animals) looks like that because of the "world wide dialup"
God/Hobo said that in one of the timelines, someone turned everyone's heads into objects. I think it was a forced thing? Since I remember seeing that the clowns revolted against the change and they were killed in a gruesome but hilarious way. Actually, not sure if that was a bit or they were serious-
Anyways, I'm going on a tangent- Most of the love interests, despite not being conventionally "attractive" are likeable! I've only played through Karen's and Randy's route so far, but I'm looking forward to discovering the others 👀
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Could you explain the eugenicist background of MBTI? I'm genuinely curious, always hated the MBTI thing (more-so because I'm autistic and hate being put into boxes), so on the smaller hand: Vindication! On the larger hand: Fuuuuck that. Absolutely fuck that.
yeah sure i fucking hate the myers briggs foundation (mostly because they managed to be right about me specifically and i hate when psdscience is accurate on accident)
now here's the first thing to establish: mbti. is wrong. it's bullshit. it don't fuckin work. almost like you can't fit 7 billion people into 16 personalities who would've fuckin thunk
now this is all according to the personality brokers: the strange history of myers-briggs and the birth of personality testing (which i reccomend you read because it explains everything way better than i can or want to)
-the briggs (katherine and her daughter isabella) designed the test to "weed out the weak in society"
-the test was inspired in part by "The Eugenic Marriage: A Personal Guide to the New Science of Better Living and Better Babies", a bestselling book from 1914
-myers herself (i believe katherine) once said, and this is a quote,
"Multitudes of people are utterly worthless or worse than worthless, having no just claims whatsoever upon the civilization which they burden with the dead weight of their existence. This is a sound, incontrovertible judgment, which has to be shunned, because our feeling for the ‘underprivileged’ is so strong that such truths can hardly be mentioned. Our feeling revolts against it."
Unsurprisingly both of the briggs were also violently racist.
the basic summary is that MBTI was designed to identify who the tests creators viewed as desirables and undesirables and is also stupid idiot bullshit that Don't Work
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I love the way everything is said in June 30's episode. Everything, let's be honest. That said, here are some of my absolute favorite parts:
The chains rattling once again and the way Jonathan says "the door - would not - move." The waver in his voice on the word "despair" right afterwards
Honestly, everything about his struggles with the door. The screeching, the effort in his voice on "pulled. and pulled." and "shook it", the way he's breaking down, frantic... finally fading into resignation to the horrible reality.
And then determination not to let that stop him. Reckless, wild indeed, but he will not be stopped this time.
His BREATHING, mentioned now but I wanna emphasize it throughout all the episode! He sounds breathless, almost panting, so much of the time. It's the extreme emotion, the exertion, the complete collapse of all facades, the blood loss... it's excellent
The way he delivers the line "I went through the door in the corner and down the winding stair and along the dark passage to the old chapel." - so quick and all in a rush. It's a horrible journey that only a few days ago was absolutely terrifying, but today it's old news. He moves through quickly, confidently. An echo of the way he went from absolute terror to 'the Count went out lizard fashion again' but more driven.
The genuine horror in his voice when he describes Dracula. His voice stuttering as he says "looking a-as if his youth had been half renewed..." and that EXCELLENT music repeating again throughout, building
ALSO, creepy Jonathan moment? The way he says "the mouth was redder than ever, for on the lips were gouts of fresh blood, which trickled from the corners of the mouth and ran over the chin... and neck." is sooooo?! He lingers a little on the red lips again but most especially the way he says the word 'neck' almost sounds hungry as well as horrified, it's like he's merging with Dracula a little, I dunno, but it's creepy and amazing
honestly the whole description sounds even creepier read aloud and it was plenty creepy before
"I shuddered as I bent over to touch him" *long steeling breath* "and every-sense in me revolted at the contact." *nearly chokes up, wrestles his voice back* "But I had to search-" GHHHHH
His tears on "or I was lost." and the way seems almost to vanish into the picture of the future he envisions
"the very thought drove me mad" - the roughness on that word gave me chills
Shovel Noise So Good
but then as Dracula sees him, oh god - the low horn, ringing noise, music getting faster
Jonathan's slight stutter on "fore-head"
"But my brain seemed on fire" being so rough and pained, god Someone Hug Him Now (no not you vampires!)
the rush of the wind
"I was again a prisoner" the EMOTION, and on "net of doom" too!
The entire bit where he narrates in present tense is SO much more intense/immediate this way. Love the little stutter on "I - I can hear the heavy feet"
and I'm just sitting here thinking about how hopeless this must feel, after all his effort, after everything - to have the wind itself turn against him, to be trapped once more, to have to just sit there and listen as the key he has risked so much to find is used and then taken away, leaving him as trapped as ever
But he REFUSES to sit and wait.
the way he scoffs so violently when comparing the vampire ladies to Mina, "nought in common"
the quiet desperate way he says "home"
The way he almost sounds hopeful to fall. I wanna cry.
And then ending on "Mina" still so rough and despairing but the love is felt in every part of the word, AUGH
The theme song is so good!
bonus mention of the bonus, as hilarious as it was in the original little clip
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Whiskey Through Anger
Relationship: Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith
Word Count: 6751
Summary: Arthur near pitied the women who'd slept with Charles.
He confused pity for envy.
charles is mad bcs of the poachers who killed the bison, Arthur cheers him up by lending him his ass
Note: was my first time writing smut so it may be cringe. also it's completely un-beta'd so it might have mistakes
read on ao3
I need a drink.
That was the first thing Charles had thought after leaving the hunter bastards' camp. It was likely the only thing that would take his mind off of the merciless cruelty imposed upon those poor bison. It would also distract him from the unneglectable urge within him to hunt down the man who'd paid those poachers himself. That- and a quick fuck. Preferably with one of the saloon girls. The prostitutes would work, but most of them weren't as appealing to Charles; most looking for rich men rather than a good time. And it did well for Charles's ego whenever he successfully wooed the women into sleeping with him. On the way to Valentine, he'd suddenly remembered Taima's need to be brushed and fed. So with the most miniscule amount of sense left in his mind that had thankfully not been overtaken by the rumbling rage travelling through his veins, he turned back and rode towards camp.
He leaned against a tree, beside the horse's hitching posts, awaiting Taima's return from the lakeside. Earlier, he'd decided to settle for a quick shave. If he was gonna fuck, may as well be presentable. He shaved frequently but not daily; he wasn't into the scraggly, unkempt beards most men in the gang had. Except Arthur. That man could make anything Charles found revolting to be absolutely alluring.
Taima had returned, as he knew she would. "Here, girl.." He reached his hand out, to which she happily nestled her head in the palm of his hand. He felt his fury dissipate.
Until Micah came.
"Darkie!" The rough shrill of his voice called, "Where's your boyfriend?" Boyfriend. A nickname begun by Dutch to tease Arthur as he'd been seen frequently hanging around Charles more often. It ain't helped that they'd barely ever spoken up 'til Colter and that Charles rarely hung out with people. At best, he drank with Javier and John. Any other interaction with the gang members weren't personal. He didn't mind the nickname. But Arthur sure did, and that stung somehow.
"Excuse me?" His fury returned.
Micah leaned nearer, "You deaf, redskin?" He snarled, shoving him back. Charles could smell the nauseating toxins released from his mouth; Micah's breath was worse than a pile of rotting corpses.
Charles shoved Micah back. Harder. Micah fell back, knocking over the wooden crates behind him, as well as everything on them. The sound of the gang's belongings clattering on the dirt caused heads to turn in their direction. With the tip of his boot, he'd kicked Micah hard in the stomach, "Fuck." Another kick, "You." One final blow.
He considered spitting on him, but decided against it. He wouldn't resort to such feeble means to take his anger out.
"Let's go, girl," He said to Taima, jumping on his horse, who neighed in agreement before galloping away.
"Gimme a whiskey." He'd barged into the saloon and sat at the counter. The bartender was often friendly with Charles; despite the short time they'd been there, Charles had frequented going there to drink with Javier and at times, uninvited imbeciles such as Bill and when really unlucky- Uncle. Instead of striking up a conversation, as Charles usually would to pass the time, he stared at the bartender with dark eyes, expectantly awaiting his drink. It was evident that he was in a sour mood, so a glass was poured and served swiftly and without a word.
He took the sip, taking pleasure in how the burn in his throat so effectively distracted him from the seething wrath consuming him. Stirring the clear bronze liquid with his finger, he couldn't help but remember how he'd confronted those poachers. The anger that had overtaken him in that moment. The loud blast of the gunshot he'd heard after subconsciously shooting a dent in the man's face. He didn't regret it.
Suddenly, he remembered the cowardly pleas of the second poacher. How much he took pleasure in watching the man squirm. And suddenly- Arthur stepped in.
Arthur.
Oh, how his heart softened for that man.
He'd regretted yelling at him for letting the pathetic bastard go. He was always much more of a better man than Charles could ever be. Through his blind hatred, he couldn't think right, but there Arthur was. Returning to him his sight and helping him retrieve his mind- though, simultaneously overtaking his heart. After having first laid eyes on him back in Blackwater, the snarky cowboy with wits as well as beauty- he could never stop looking at him. For him. Whenever he'd leave Charles's line of sight, his eyes would instinctually begin to search for the man once more. He remembered wandering around the area for no particular reason but to catch a glimpse of him. At the time, he wasn't the kind to drink often, but whenever he was asked to tag along and told that Arthur would follow, he accepted immediately.
Pathetic. He thought. How delusional.
The man would never love him. He knew this. If by some miracle Arthur Morgan, the Van der Linde gang's best shot and toughest member, somehow held interest for the male sex, there was absolutely no way in hell he'd choose Charles.
It was enough for him that he could be considered a friend to Arthur. He was satisfied.
His solution to escape from his anger led him to wallowing in self-pitiful sorrow. Far worse than anger.
When the whiskey reduced to drops, he requested a second glass. Feeling his temper cooling, he sighed. Maybe time for that fuck.
A rough voice came, one he'd recognise anywhere: "I knew I'd find you here!" A slap on the back.
"Arthur." He near smiled.
The cowboy took a seat beside him and requested a beer. Charles took a sip, placing the glass down with a thud, "What are you doing here?"
His drink was served and Arthur took a sip. A smile played on his lips, "Heard a friend of mine were here. Unfortunately, it was you."
Though he knew Arthur joked often, he couldn't help the thought that lingered telling him it wasn't a joke. "Come on. Really."
"Well," Another sip, "I'd been searchin' for you."
"Hm?" He felt his cheeks heat up.
"Yeah, after I'd looted them bastards' camp, I rode back home. Thought you'd be there but all I'd seen were a very mad Micah." Arthur grinned, knowing damn well who caused Micah's well-deserved fury, "Second place I'd thought you'd be was here. Drownin' your anger in whiskey."
"You know me well." Charles smiled, taking a sip of whiskey.
"'Course i do."
Arthur accompanied him throughout the evening, 'til the sun had set and the customers increased. He provided a very welcome distraction for Charles from his foul mind and Charles was grateful.
The words they spoke became slurred and he couldn't help but notice how Arthur's lips turned more pink and how visible the flush on his cheeks were. They were both drunk. He knew that.
He hadn't drunken enough to puke his guts out or haze his vision 'til all he saw were distorting waves. But he was drunk enough for his lust to take over. Something that always happened when he drank and it certainly didn't help that right beside him was the man he oh so desperately craved for. They sat close. Too close. Charles could smell the wooden scent of his soap as well as the smell of cigarette smoke that lingered within his clothes. The whiff of whiskey on his breath, as he'd purchased a bottle for both him and Charles.
It didn't help the erection growing in his pants that their knees kept touching. And it certainly didn't help that Arthur was one touchy fella. Every few minutes a hand was placed on his thigh, shoulder or knee. It lingered a few seconds longer than natural that Charles nearly would've thought it was intentional if he didn't know any better.
When intoxicated he spoke his mind. It took a mighty amount of effort with the little composure he had left to prevent himself from yelling out his desire to fuck his closest friend. Instead he said, "I need a fuck."
Arthur stopped, "Don't wanna drink no more?"
"Mm.. not really."
"Really. Not enjoying my company?" He teased. God, of course he was.
"I always enjoy your company, Arthur," He said, slurring slightly. "But unless I can fuck you, I don't think I can sit here much longer. I'm still mad about this afternoon. Can't be sittin' here anymore- shit- I'd probably fuck you if I did." Fuck. Why would he say that. Why did he say that. Fuck fuck fuck.
The words Charles had uttered sent a spark down the pit of Arthur's stomach. Surely he didn't mean it like that. He was drunk. But then- so was Arthur. So he swallowed, "I wouldn't mind." The words come out before Arthur can stop them.
That had to be the alcohol talking, right? There would be no way in hell, that Arthur Morgan would ever say such a thing. Even if Charles was lucky enough to be blessed with the chance of even touching Arthur's bare torso- he wouldn't even dare to in fear of causing Arthur even the slightest bit of discomfort.
But.. Then again, he may never get such an opportunity again. Was Arthur bluffing? Or was it the whiskey. God, he couldn't think straight.
Finally he spoke, "What.." A pause, "What do you mean?"
He didn't dare look at Arthur.
Despite the bustle and laughter of the drunkards behind them and the sound of drinks being poured into glasses continuously, all that surrounded them was the awkward noise of silence. He looked at Arthur, surprised to find a prominent flush painted upon his cheeks, intentionally avoiding Charles's gaze, "I-" He cleared his throat, "A..As long as it'll help you."
Silence.
"Help me?"
A nod.
"You know what that means, Arthur?"
He swallowed. Another nod.
They sat in silence for a bit before Charles spoke, "Okay."
"..." Arthur chugged down his whiskey, "Okay."
Suddenly they were upstairs. In a room they'd rented, with Charles's large frame pressed up against Arthur's, pinning him against the door. With their mouths pressed together, moving messily in terrible synergy. Wet and sloppy as saliva ran down their chins. Their hands running across eachothers' bodice in desperation, eager for the most meager amount of contact. Charles's hands running down Arthur's sides and Arthur intertwining his own hands into Charles's hair, tangling the once straight strands and tugging at the scalp.
Immediately after renting a room they'd headed upstair, uncaring of the eyes that may have followed them nor the whispers that could've trailed behind. Once in said room, the door slammed and Arthur was shoved up against the door, Charles's lips crashing into his with drunken desire. Catching Arthur by surprise, taken aback by his aggressive passion. He didn't know what to do except melt into the sensation and oh. Oh, how good it felt. The way Charles kissed him was- he'd never been kissed like that before. Charles kissed him with hunger. With need. As if he were a man who'd starved for so very long and it was only Arthur who could satiate that hunger.
Charles placed a knee in between Arthur's thigh causing the man to break the kiss, eliciting a moan from him, "F-Fuc...k," He whispered. God, the sound was heaven. He couldn't believe this moment was real. That Arthur Morgan himself was so near. Pressed up against him in such a vulnerable position. He connected their lips once more, pushing his tongue into the man's open mouth causing Arthur to groan into the kiss. God, he was perfect.
Charles broke the kiss and stared at Arthur. His lips reddened and lustrous, slightly parted as Arthur panted heavily. Beautiful.
Leaning in once more, Charles pressed his lips upon his jaw. Trailing his jawline with kisses a small nips, down to his neck and collarbone. Arthur whimpered from receiving Charles's not so gentle bites and sucks. He wanted more.
"Arthur.." He hummed, leaving marks upon his collarbone.
"Y-yeah?"
"You're doing this to help me.. right?" He sucked another mark onto his terribly sunkissed skin.
He swallowed, "Y..es.
"Good.." He whispered, his voice low and sweet, dripping of luscious, sweetened syrup, it made Arthur feel something he hadn't felt before and he absolutely loved it. "Get on your knees."
"What?"
Charles caught a hint of doubt hidden among his words. He kissed his jaw, "You sure about this.. right?" He whispered, "You can still back out.." It was the last sober part of himself that spoke. He knew once they'd gone farther he would've been far too intoxicated by Arthur to stop.
"Yes." Arthur whispered, low and breathy.
"Good.. On your knees, Arthur." Arthur did as told.
He ran a hand through Arthur's hair in admiration, taking in every bit of the man. His eyes peering up to stare at Charles, his cheeks so very flushed and his lips. God. His lips. "Good boy.." He spoke. The praise sent a terribly satisfying warmth down the pit of Arthur's stomach.
Charles could feel his erection hardening at the sight of the man. Arthur watched as the man undid his belt, unbuttoning his pants, his eyes widening when they caught sight of the beast of Charles's cock. The length was slightly over average, nothing special but fuck, the girth. He near pitied the women who'd slept with Charles. He confused pity for envy.
He flushed. Beginning to understand what Charles wanted. "Charles.."
"Yes, Arthur?" Charles traced his jaw, tilting his head further upwards.
"I.. I ain't ever done this before.."
A force tugged upon Charles's lips. He smiled, "Don't worry, I'll guide you.."
A nod from Arthur.
"Use your mouth, love. Hands too. Just lick it, suck it.. yeah.. like that." Love. He'd never called him that before.
Arthur placed a hand at the base of the cock. Fuck, it was huge. He could barely wrap his hand around it. He swirled his tongue around the tip, flicking at it once in a while, simultaneously pumping at the base. He mouthed the sides of the prick before enclosing his lips around the head of his cock. A groan escaped Charles's lips, encouraging Arthur to continue. He tried hard to remember how women he'd been with in his past did it to him but it was so long ago he'd forgotten.
Pushing his head down further he felt the tip of the cock hit the back of his throat, he fought hard not to gag, pushing the cock down his throat 'till his nose was buried in the man's pubes.
"God, you're so beautiful.." Charles whispered. Arthur felt his own erection growing as he pulled his head back and forth, gagging on his cock each time. It felt so good. He never would've thought he could get off on choking on another man's cock but Charles made it feel so good. The hand tangled in his hair began to grip harder, taking control of Arthur's motions as it forced Arthur's head up and and down. The cock hitting the back of his throat repeatedly made him gag. Arthur choked. Tried to pull back but Charles wouldn't let him, thrusting into his mouth as if he was nothing but a hole to relieve himself in.
Fuck, the thought made him harder.
His eyes rolled back as he choked on the cock, allowing Charles to take complete control as he relished in the his groans. "Fuck, fuck.. fuck, You're so good Arthur, so good for me. I'm gonna cum Arthur. Stay put for me, sweet thing.." Charles pushed his head down hard on his cock, not releasing the vigorous grip he had on Arthur. The man moaned, sending vibrations across his cock as he felt the hot, sticky liquid spill down his throat. Finally Charles let go, Arthur pulling back, panting hard as Charles's spend dripped down his chin. His lips reddened from the friction and his tongue stuck out with drool hanging off of it. His eyes glassy and face flushed. The sight was obscene. It nearly made Charles hard again.
"Arthur.." Charles sighed, his heart near implosion from the bliss of this moment. He pulled him up, pressing their lips together as they moved messily in poor attempts of synchronised rhythm. Through sloppily sensuous movements, Arthur panting in-between each slow motion. They stumbled towards the bed, Charles pushing Arthur not so gently down on the thin, old mattress. Finally he pulled away. Arthur panted, "D.. Did I do well?" His voice rasped.
God.. How adorable, "Yes, Arthur," He smiled, pressing a kiss upon his nose, "You were so good Arthur.. So good for me.."
The words unleashed a whine from Arthur, his cock pressing so hard against the fabric of his pants he feared the cloth would tear. Suddenly a palm rubbed at his groin. The moan Arthur let out was more than shameful. He covered his mouth with both hands, embarrassed of the volume of the sound.
"Don't cover your mouth," Charles whispered, palming harder between his thighs, "C'mon.. you made me feel so good, Arthur.. Tell me what I can do for you."
Arthur flushed, he didn't expect to receive any pleasure from this- though, in truth being this intimate with Charles was already far more pleasuring than anything he could ever have in his sad life. But he'd expected to help Charles release stress, doing anything Charles wanted, and once done he'd shamefully jerk off in silence with the thought of Charles's body above his (however far they'd go,) to help him relieve himself.
"I-It's fine Charles. I'm helpin' you get off, you don't gotta worry 'bout me."
"Yeah, but what if getting you off is what gets me off?" He spoke, pressing kisses across his clothed thighs.
"Then.. go ahead."
"Take off your clothes, sweetheart." Fuck, these pet names were getting out of hand. Arthur was enjoying them far too much.
He did as Charles said. With the cold air hitting his freckled skin, he couldn't help but feel so ashamed. Of his body and how turned off Charles might be. He felt too exposed. Charles just stared at him, his eyes never leaving, his gaze never faltering. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Did he just fuck it up? Was Charles so disgusted by his body he couldn't even utter a measly syllable out of his soft, soft lips? Fuck. Of course. He's such an ugly fuckin' bastard, no wonder-
"You're beautiful, Arthur."
"Huh?" He must've misheard him.
"God, Arthur.." He spoke as if breathless, "You're so perfect." He kissed him. Slow and steady, as if trying to take in all of Arthur. As if this moment was going to end if he didnt do so. God, he hoped it'd never end. "You're so beautiful." He whispered, leaving a trail of kisses down to his throbbing, weeping cock as he whispered bits of praise and words of affections. Arthur nearly believed it.
"Have you ever done before, Arthur?" He spoke lowly against his unclothed thighs, sending scalding reverberations across his lightly haired skin.
"Not.. Not with a man, no." He slurred, the effects of the whiskey still weighing heavily upon him, stirring his mind into a hazed blur as it rushed all the blood from there to his cock.
"You do this frequently, then? With women?"
"No, not- not in a long while now."
Arthur gazed blearily at the man whose face had been positioned between his thighs, aware of how vulnerable this position was for himself- as well as how it was so terribly tantalising.
"You," He broke the silence, "You done this before? With men?"
"Yeah. Not too often but it isn't anything too rare."
"I ain't thought you were the kind."
"What kind?"
"Y'know, the-"
"Cocksucking kind?"
Arthur flushed at his bluntness, "Well.. Yeah."
"I don't mind sucking cock. Don't mind fucking anyone with one too. As long as the holes attached to a warm body, I don't mind."
"So I'm just another warm body to you?" Arthur teased, though his heart near cracked open at the thought.
You're so much more than that, Arthur. Charles thought to himself. And his drunk self said exactly that as he pressed more kisses along his jawline, Arthur flushing at the words.
"So- how does this work? Sex with two men."
"One of 'em takes it up the ass."
Arthur's eyes went so wide, Charles feared it'd remain that way.
"And you.." Arthur muttered, "You took it up the ass before?" He asked in hopes of there being a chance he wouldn't have to take Charles's horse cock up his ass.
"Never. The other guys always just happened to want me to do them."
"Oh.." He didn't really like thinking of Charles and other men. Other people.
He opened his mouth to speak before Charles did so, "You don't have to take it up the ass. You already made me feel good, I just want to do the same, Arthur."
In truth he did want to take Arthur in the ass. He wanted to fuck the man so hard he begged for more. He wanted to fuck him into the bed. Hard enough that the rusted springs of the lumpy mattress no longer worked. He wanted the man to forget his own name and for the only thing left, engraved in his mind would be how good Charles made him feel. Oh, how he wanted to ruin the man.
The last sober part of himself had fought every other terribly, drunkenly lusted part of his body saying those few words. Though in truth he did want to pleasure Arthur. It was just that he wanted to fuck him while doing so.
"Will it hurt?" Arthur's raspy voice came.
"What?"
"If I.. took it.. there. Would it hurt?"
"Not if I do it right."
"Okay."
"Okay..?"
"Lord, Charles- Are y'gon'make me say it?"
A smile drew upon his lips, "I wasn't. But now I am."
"You're a bastard, Mr. Smith."
"Bold choice of words for the man who holds your precious orgasm in the palm of his hand."
"You make it sound like a threat. I don't need you to get me off." He spat.
"Really.." Charles leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of Arthur's ear, "You really think I can't just tie you up? Leave you here, splayed out on the bed for whoever comes next. Your lassos right on the ground, at my disposal." The words sent all the blood to his cock, it cried for release as it leaked precum upon Arthur's belly. Charles reached a hand down, rubbing a calloused thumb over the head of the cock, "You like that, Arthur? If I tied you up with your own lasso. While your cock's begging to be touched. Weeping for release. You like that? If I left you here for someone else to find. Someone else to fuck." Charles was bluffing, anyone else who tried to fuck Arthur- let alone touch him wouldn't still be alive to try anything.
"Christ, Charles." He breathed. Each word had sent a shiver that travelled down to his cock, "I want you to fuck me."
"Really. Where are your manners?"
"Please." He gritted out, "Please fuck me, Charles."
"So sweet, aren't you, Arthur?"
Arthur merely rolled his eyes in response.
Charles travelled downwards. Trailing kisses down his neck. Down his torso and up to his ass. Purposefully avoiding the man's terribly hardened cock as he whined for friction. He pressed kisses around the man's puckered hole, earning sweet, sweet moans that'd leaked out of the man's sweet, sweet lips.
Suddenly, his tongue begun to stretch the man's tight ring of muscle, earning a sharp gasp from Arthur. He was invading uncharted territory, savouring the sounds Arthur made and how beautifully his body reacted each time his tongue moved around within him.
Finally he'd pulled away, earning a loud whine from the man writhing beneath him. Grabbing the back of his knees, spreading them further open, he spat on his hole, making a mess as he coated the spit around the hole with his fingers. A finger doused in spit pressed up against his hole, "I'm putting a finger in, Arthur."
Arthur nodded before feeling something stretch him out. The burning sensation was not enough for the man to tell him to stop. It didn't hurt, but it sure as hell hadn't felt good. Why any man would willingly want this was completely unfathomable. But then- if the man was doing it with Charles Smith, he wouldn't mind.
"Does it hurt?" He whispered, pushing the digit in and out of the hole in slow, unhurried motions, taking care not to hurt the man.
Arthur hated being treated so- kindly. So properly taken care of, as if he were something fragile- something worthy of care. It made him feel so pathetic. "No. Put another finger in."
Charles merely hummed in response, slipping out the digit before swiftly pushing two fingers deep within him. Thrusting inwards and out, he kept wondering whether the men who enjoyed taking it up the ass were delusional. No way in hell could this have felt good-
Oh. Oh.
This was good.
"A-Ah.. More- there, Charles." He whined, it felt too good for him to be ashamed of the near ludicrous sounds he let out. Curling his thick fingers upwards, Charles massaged the man's sweet spot, splitting both fingers apart, scissoring him from within as he stretched him apart.
Briskly, he pulled out both fingers and pushed them back in, along with an additional digit as he spread them all out, stretching him out so well the uncomfortably pleasurable burn had morphed into a terribly intensified pleasure. He wasn't aware of the sounds he'd made, all he could focus on was how much Charles's perfect fingers stretched him out.
It wasn't enough. He wanted more.
"Fuck me Charles. P-Please, I need you."
"So polite now, Arthur.." He could hear the smile in Charles's tone as he felt him press more kisses around his collarbone.
"Please, Charles.."
"Since you asked so nicely."
He pulled his fingers out, soaked and wet with his own fluids. Swiftly, he pulled off his shirt and spat on his own cock, aligning its length in-between Arthur's flawlessly imperfect ass cheeks. It rubbed against his hole, he couldn't wait anymore- he felt so empty. So- So-
Full.
Fuck..
Charles had pushed all the way in, from the head to base, he took it all in. He forgot the girth of the man's cock, how thick and heavy it'd laid on his tongue earlier. Fuck. It stretched him out. His cock rubbed at the walls of his ass, just grazing upon his prostate. "Fuck, you're tight.." Charles groaned, placing a hand under his knee, rubbing circles upon the skin with the pad of his thumb in attempts of comfort, "Relax, love.. Just tell me to stop and I will." Arthur nodded.
Despite feeling Arthur relax around his cock, the warmth enveloping him still felt as if it was clenching around him. Threatening him to stay, restraining him from pulling out.
"I'm going to move now, Arthur." Another nod.
Slowly, he pulled out and slowly, he pushed in. Repeating these motions 'till he felt the man completely relax around him. He picked up the pace, thrusting in faster. Harder. Arthur began to whine loudly. Too loud.
Charles moved his legs which had previously wrapped loosely around his hips, upwards. His shoulders just beneath Arthur's knees. The position allowed Charles to hit deeper within him. Every brutal thrust inwards inflicted such terrible abuse upon Arthur's bruised prostate. Arthur loved every bit of it.
Pushing Arthur's knees against his chest, near folding him half, he whispered to the man, "Quiet down, Arthur. We can't have people hearing your sweet noises, now can we?"
Arthur merely babbled incoherent syllables before clamping his hands over his mouth. Adorable.
He hadn't assumed Arthur to take him so literally.
"You're so beautiful, Arthur.." He repeated for likely the millionth time during their encounter. Taking in Arthur's beautifully flushed and freckled face along with his beautifully glassy eyes as tears spilled out of them. He pressed kisses along those tears, tasting the salt on his lips, "So, so beautiful.." He whispered, burying his face in the crook of the man's neck, sucking and biting at his neck, leaving bruises and marks, that he was sure wouldn't leave for at least a week.
Arthur unclasped his hands from his mouth, "Ch-Charles, I-I'm- I'm gonna-"
"Go ahead, sweetheart.." He mumbled into his skin.
Arthur's moans grew louder and far more risqué as he wrapped his arms around the back of Charles's neck. "A-Ah! More, more, Charles! Pl..ease- There! Right there!"
As his pleas grew needier, his whines grew more lubricious. His intensifying grip around his neck reminding Charles of his strength. Despite how strong the man was, he submitted so willingly to Charles. Oh, how he loves the man.
Nearing his release, he let out louder cries that practically flooded the enclosed space, he didn't bother to silence Arthur, now uncaring of the possibility of them both being hanged if someone were to discover the intimacy of the position the were in. Instead, he revelled in the sweet symphony of his whines, his cries and his moans. He relished in the scent of sweat coating Arthur's olive skin and the sweet scent of sex as he fucked faster and harder into Arthur.
Hot, white cum spurted in-between their bodies. Onto Arthur's abdomen and Charles's toned belly. Dazing through Arthur's post-orgasm haze, he didn't feel Charles stop. Instead he fucked him harder. Faster. Arthur felt like he was going to burst from such overstimulation, "C-Charles, a-ahh, stop! Stop, stop, stop please- it's, it's too much!" But he didn't stop. Instead, a hand wrapped around his worn out cock, pumping it hard as his erection reformed.
"You can take it, Arthur.. You promised to make me feel good, didn't you?" He continued fucking him, rubbing hard on the terribly sensitive crown of his cock.
"Yes- Yes, Charles.." He moaned, "A-Ahh- I can't cum no more, Charles! Please-"
"You can, love.. C'mon.."
Arthur merely whined in response, squirming powerlessly beneath him. It was all too much. Everything felt like too much. Arthur soon felt his orgasm bubbling up as Charles fisted his once-again hardened cock. Feeling Charles pounding harshly within him whilst pumping his cock was too much- He was gonna- gonna-
"I-I'm gonna cum, Arthur.." He heard the low pitch of Charles's voice.
"M-Me too." He forced out, lacking the mundane ability to string together proper sentences due to having his brains fucked out by the man above him.
He let out the loudest moan known to man. It near shook the entire saloon but he was far too fucked out to be embarrassed of the noise. The man was utterly debauched.
The warmth of Charles nearly depleted as he felt the man about to pull out before he wrapped his legs tighter around him, "Cum- inside.."
The sight of Arthur was enough to make Charles heed his plea without a thought. He hummed, fucking him harder as he chased his release.
Finally- through his own orgasm, he felt a warm, viscous liquid released inside him. It felt so good. His load felt never ending, it continued to spurt out all over his ass after Charles pulled out. Such a position should've made him feel degraded, pathetic, instead- he felt completely raptured. The feeling of Charles's semen all over him nearly made him hard again.
Staring at his own thick cum spilling out of Arthur's so very reddened and swollened asshole, the white droplets sliding the bruised skin of both his inner and outer thighs that pressed so tightly together. He couldn't help but admire the work he'd done.
His eyes trailed upwards from Arthur's terribly abused hole to his wonderfully rubescent face; taking in how his eyes brimmed with saltwater as they so gracefully fell down his rosy, freckled cheeks. As if he'd lost himself in the mere sight on Arthur. In his red, swollened lips; glistening and nitid, wet from their shared , sloppy kisses. They parted slightly, taking in shallow breaths, panting from the sex mere moments before.
"Why're you lookin' at me like that?" Arthur spoke, his voice raspy, never-changing.
"Like what?" Charles responded breathlessly.
"Like you wanna goddam' eat me." A chuckle from Charles.
"Maybe I do." He pushed apart Arthur's bruised thighs and leaned into him, pressing more kisses at his already purpling jaw. "Charles Smith." He whispered, his tone meaning to be teasing but coming out broken and breathy.
"Arthur Morgan." He said in response at the shell of the man's ear.
Charles rolled off of Arthur, laying at his side. "I can't believe that just happened." Charles sighed ever-so blissfully, as if all his troubles had just been washed away and the sex they just had had granted him the secrets of eternal life.
"Y'mean- the fuckin'? Or the fact that it was with a man."
"The fact that it was with you."
"Oh." Arthur's eyes began to avoid his gaze, his cheeks beginning to redden as he muttered several minor words, "I can't believe it too well either."
"Y'know.." Charles turned to him, a hand reaching out to trace his cheekbone with his knuckles, "I've been wantin' this for so long now."
"You're kiddin'"
"Not at all." He swallowed, the alcohol that continued to coarse through his veins gave him courage to utter these pathetically buried feelings. Feelings he'd never admit to if well and sober. It was now or never. "I.. I've been interested in you for a while now."
"Since Colter?"
"Since Blackwater."
"You- Charles.." He stammered, unable to find the words to say, Charles merely chuckled at his bashfulness.
"It's alright Arthur. I knew those feelings would go nowhere," He'd uttered, Arthur missed the hint of sadness within his words, "The moment I heard you speak- your quick wit as well as your sarcastic quips, they immediately charmed me. You were just so oddly charismatic, and your beauty- Arthur. Your beauty. You were breathtaking. You are breathtaking."
Arthur couldn't utter a single word, his face merely continued to overheat as his mouth stood agape. "In Colter, when Mr. Pearson asked you to go hunting with me- My heart absolutely flipped. I jumped at the chance."
"Yeah, it was weird that you wanted to help me out. Y'know 'cause o' your hand an' whatnot."
"You wanna know how I injured my hand, Arthur?"
"Been wonderin' for a while now."
"In Blackwater, durin' the heist- when you came to the boat, I saw a fella'. Probably a Pinkerton, wasn't sure. But he aimed his gun at you, I didn't think- I just put my hand at the barrel then knocked 'im out after."
A pause. His eyes traced the apple at Arthur's throat, watching how it bobbed as he swallowed. Watching how he took Charles's hand off his face and held it so very gently. Arthur Morgan. The Van der Linde gang's toughest, most intimidating member. The man he'd just fucked. That same man held him so, so softly. Tracing the grooves and bumps of his dark knuckles as well as the veins behind his terribly calloused hand. Then he spoke, looking up to reach his eyes, "Shoulda let me get shot."
Charles merely smiled, "I know. I'm a fool."
They laid beside each other, bathing it the afterglow of their previous activities. The only thing on both of their minds being the unknown mutual hope that it wouldn't be the last time they were so intimate. So Arthur broke the silence. "You tired, Charles?"
"Not.. in particular."
"Think you can go another round?"
An imperceptible smile, quirked upon Charles's lips, "I could go for several more rounds."
With those words, Arthur got up and straddled the man all in one swift motion. He leaned downwards, pressing their lips together for the millionth time.
His hands reached down to Charles's pants, "You gotta get these off though."
"No rush. We have all night.
The thought of Charles's fucking him into the mattress all the way 'till morning made his dick twitch. He kissed Charles once more, whispering through the kiss, "I wanna have our whole life."
He took a breath. "Let's have that then."
When the sun rose, casting it's amber hues across the rented lodging of their room and bathing the town with its slight warmth, Arthur's eyes fluttered open, wandering blearily around the foreign room before landing on the sleeping face of Charles.
Charles.
Charles?
He stared at the man beside him, the strong, sculpted arms wrapped around him. He couldn't move if he tried. The memories of the night before blurred through his mind, a flush crawling up his neck. Untrusting of his own intoxicated mind, he looked beneath the thin, cream blanket that barely covered them as it was clearly meant for merely a single person. As if their naked bodies pressed together and the near dried cum spilling out of his ass wasn't enough proof, the sight of Charles's bare cock underneath the blanket surely was.
Attempting to shuffle within Charles's death gripping bear hug, still processing the knowledge of getting fucked by the man the night before. Multiple times. The memory of Charles's cum in his mouth still lingered. The taste of salt and texture of slime that would've made him puke if it was anyone else but last night- was absolutely intoxicating.
With curious eyes he looked at Charles, taking in every curve and crevice on his face. Seeing things he'd never seen before. Every pore was visible, as was every spot of hair that trailed from his chin to his jaw. The memory of Charles's words to him as he laid beside him upon the white, dirtied mattress sheets made Arthur's heart absolutely dance. In truth, he'd felt the same. Ever since speaking to him at Colter, all that lingered within his mind was the faint thought of Charles. If the night before hadn't happened he'd never admit the fact he felt this way about another man. He didn't even know how he felt.
Suddenly Charles's eyes opened, blinking a few times as he looked at Arthur with half-lidded eyes. A lopsided smile bloomed upon his face, "G'morning, Arthur." He leaned nearer, pressing a kiss on his lips. The action made his heart thud so hard upon his ribcage he feared it'd explode. "Mornin'.." He forced out.
He didn't know how to act, considering the fact that they'd fucked continuously throughout dusk, passing out just before dawn. He hadn't had sex in years. Not since Eliza's death.
Charles merely continued to run a hand through Arthur's sandy, uncut locks, long overdue for a haircut. "I still can't believe last night." He heard Charles murmur.
"Neither can I."
A smile from Charles. "Thank you, Arthur." He looked at Charles, into his eyes, noticing the slightest bit a sorrow within them. As if unwillingly acceptant of the fact that last night was and inevitably would be nothing more than a one night stand. Charles parted his lips, as if wanting to say more. But the words never left those soft lips.
"What for?"
"Last night. Helping me blow off steam."
Oh.
Was that all it was to Charles? Were all the sweet nothings said the night before just a result of too much whiskey?
"Arthur?" Charles's voice, "You alright?"
Before he could stop it, the words ran out of his mouth, "I don't want last night to be the last."
"What?"
"I-" Fuck. He'd already said all that. Might as well. "I wanna do it again. With you. "
"Right now?"
"No- Charles. I mean-" He was never one for words. He wasn't even that good at English himself. "Arthur."
He looked up. Charles smiled.
He spoke.
"I'd like that."
"Yeah?" Arthur had never been the emotional kind but fuck. The knowledge that it wouldn't be the end made him near tear up. Or maybe getting fucked in the ass had shredded up his masculinity.
Nah.
"Yeah." Charles couldn't stop smiling. Fuck, the man was handsome.
"But- ignoring what I just said, you ain't too tired for another fuck, are you?"
Charles only laughed, crawling on top of Arthur and smashing their lips together through the laughter that bubbled throughout.
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I genuinely have no clue where this fandom gets the idea that James and Snape were rivals. The definition of rivalry is competition for the same objective or for superiority in the same field.
If James and Snape were rivals, as many like to call them, what were they competing for?
Lily?
No. Snape and Lily were best friends, years before James and Snape even met. And Lily is not a “prize to be won” which many people—including James, as we see in SWM—fail to understand.
Their studies? [I’m including this because I’ve actually seen someone try to use this argument before]
No. That had nothing to do with their feud. And James and Snape excelled in different subjects. Snape was brilliant at potions and DADA. James was highly knowledgeable in transfiguration.
Unlike Harry and Draco (who were rivals when it came to Quidditch), James and Snape had nothing you could argue they were “competing over.”
Another important thing many people seem to forget about rivalries is that it means equality. Rivals’ statuses/dynamics are meant to be balanced. Does that apply to Snape and James?
James Potter: was a rich, well-groomed, spoiled pureblood Gryffindor.
Severus Snape: was a poor, unattractive, neglected half-blood Slytherin.
It can only ever be called a rivalry when both sides are equally powerful, which cannot be said for James and Snape whatsoever.
A huge reason as to why people like to call it that is because Snape apparently “gave as good as he got” (I like how there was not a single time that phrase was ever used in the series). They use a line said by Remus—one of Snape’s bullies, funnily enough—in OoTP as evidence of Snape’s supposed fighting back:
“Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James, so you couldn’t really expect James to take that lying down, could you?”
To a majority of this fandom, never losing an opportunity (opportunity: a time or set of circumstances that makes it possible to do something, Remus never said anything about Snape succeeding all the time) to curse James—who, in the author’s words, relentlessly bullied Snape for the past six years—in their 7th year (one year) meant “giving as good as he got” and automatically cancels out everything James did to Snape for the six years before that.
Demonising Snape for wanting to get back at James after being subjected to bullying, assault, and even attempted murder (the werewolf prank) for years is complete and utter victim-blaming. If the victim fights back, it is to be called self-defence, not “bullying back” (there is no such thing anyway) or a rivalry. Acting as though in order to be a “good victim”—whatever that’s supposed to mean—you have to take the bullying lying down, and if you defend yourself, you’re reclassified as the bad guy, is genuinely disgusting to me. If a woman were to defend herself against her assaulters, would she be in the wrong, would that negate what the assaulters did to her?
The pro-bullying and victim-blaming attitude that comes from this fandom is revolting. Defending oneself does not alter the dynamic from a person with more power bullying a victim to a rivalry between two equals. When will people learn to understand that?
And besides, there is absolutely nothing to back up Remus’s claim. In fact, there is more evidence that he was lying:
Remus makes it sound like Snape would just come up to James randomly and just hex him there and then. If he did, don’t you think Lily would’ve found out? Or at the very least the Hogwarts staff? That very much suggests that it was James who initiated these fights.
The Marauders had the cloak of invisibility, a map that could track Snape and everyone at Hogwarts’ every move, and the two-way mirror. What did Snape have?
Why would James hide it from Lily? If he was truly innocent and was the one being hexed senseless, he obviously would not have hidden it from her. What would he even have to hide if that were the case? It’s clear that he knew he was in the wrong and that Lily would have never gotten with him had she known what he was doing behind her back.
Remus is canonically a liar, who lied to Harry many times, especially about Snape. Why does this fandom act like his words about the person he used to bully should be trusted?
Moving on, none of the Marauders’ reasons for bullying Snape exactly scream rivalry:
James himself stated that he bullied Snape because he exists.
Remus called it “an old prejudice” when he and Harry talked in HBP, casting the Marauders as bigots (especially when you remember that Snape was a Slytherin whom they bullied because of his existence).
Sirius (in GoF) claimed that “Snape was just this little oddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts.”
In SWM, we are shown that the reason James and Sirius attacked Snape—who was minding his own business—was because Sirius was bored, meaning they had done it for fun.
Lily claimed that James walked down corridors and hexed anyone who annoyed him “just because he can.”
Sirius claimed that “we [the Marauders] were sometimes arrogant little berks.”
Tell me, does this seem like a rivalry to you?
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Hi, so I was rewatching Code Geass (I hope you know it? I assume you do, you seem to know everything) and it occured to me that Geass powers are very similar to PoE powers, so... what if instead of Apples there were Code Bearers (hopefully in some kind of stasis for a good portion of history)?
Because I would really like Eve to run around Renaissanse Italy (although she probably wouldn't mention just who she is before the Vault) and because Altair is absolutely the type to fully develop a Geass.
...yes, also because it would be funny if Desmond became immortal instead of dying.
I wanted to say that I don’t know everything, sometimes I check the wiki or tvtropes to help me get a grasp of the ask but, funnily enough, I do know Code Geass. Code Geass is one of the animes I watched when it first aired in Japan then rewatched the English dub to see how different it is (the English dub is so good, getting Johnny Yong Bosch as Lelouch was such a top-tier choice). I should note that I only watched the two seasons and I could sorta remember the dating sim game, I didn’t watch the movies or Akito the Exiled. Oh, and I can barely remember Nightmare of Nunnally manga even though I did read a few chapters of it XD
In other words, we’re focusing on what was revealed in R2 about Code Bearers for this one XD
Now, let’s change it a bit. The Code Bearers are the Isus’ greatest achievement. They were meant to be the shepherds of the Isus’ slaves.
But Minerva screwed that up, giving them a sense of ‘self’.
To be companions.
But it was because of their sense of self that they grew to like the company of humans more than their masters.
And they revolted, using the very power granted to them by the Isus to ‘bless’ specific humans that led the charge.
The Isu-human war was not even between the Isus and the humans but between the Isus and the Code Bearers, hiding in the shadows and using the humans as their puppets, granting power to those that would later be known as Geass users.
Minerva had been spared from a death sentence by the very Code Bearer she had given a sense of ‘self’ to.
Her daughter…
Eve.
The Isus were killed. Those who were left alive were exiled or imprisoned, left to die a slow death.
Then…
The humans revolted.
Against the Geass users and their Code Bearers.
Minerva does not know why.
Perhaps one of users or the bearers had used their power selfishly.
Perhaps it is simply the nature of being with enough intelligence such as Isus, humans, and Code Bearers to turn against what they believe to be controlling them.
Minerva had been too busy…
Creating the last Code Bearer.
Her son.
The one that shall gift the most powerful Geass of all.
The Geass to control the very fabric of time.
.
The Code Bearers have dwindled in sizes and they have grown to distrust one another, believing that one of them or one of the Geass users they have gifted with the power of the Geass had betrayed them which led to the ‘witch hunts’.
This is why the Code Bearers try their best to remain in seclusion and to not change the trajectory of humanity.
Until…
Eve found Minerva’s final resting place.
An underground laboratory, half-destroyed thanks to an earthquake.
And that’s when she learned of her ‘little brother’, Minerva’s final Code Bearer.
Desmond.
And Eve sets out to find him.
.
Unknown to him…
Desmond isn’t exactly the typical Code Bearer.
Because Minerva figured the best way to create a Code Bearer that will not fall victim to the corrupting influence of their immortality and power is to change a human into a Code Bearer.
A human that had willingly sacrificed his life to save the world before.
So Minerva tweaked the timeline and captured Desmond Miles’ consciousness a second before his death and transferred it to the Code Bearer body she had prepared.
Desmond has no idea what Code Bearers are. He does know what a Geass is, the Assassins and Templars have been searching for Geass users for centuries.
He also know…
That the man who gave Altaïr his Geass was a man that looked too similar to him to be a coincidence.
A man…
… who looked exactly like Desmond.
(That’s right, this is going to be a closed loop where the Code Bearer who gave Altaïr his Geass is actually Desmond himself, having been given a Code Bearer body. Considering it’s Altaïr, it’s highly possible that he would even upgrade from being a Geass user to being a Code Bearer but there has only been one human to have ever done that… Eve’s Geass user… Adam… who disappeared a few weeks before the witch hunts begins)
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Girl let me tell you, you absolutely ate those Jake x Reader x Neytiri up
I had 2 ideas, you don’t have to write them if you don’t want to cause they are angsty but I just wanted to share them with someone else
1. Jake x Metkayina Fem Reader x Neytiri where they mate right before everything happens and instead of Ronal’s soul sister dying its the reader’s soul brother, and the reader is completely heartbroken and breaks down like ronal but instead of the whole “What is this Tonowari” its directed at Jake and Neytiri. The reader feels betrayed and angry at Jake and Neytiri because she feels like they brought this upon her and the people but then after everything happens they reconcile.
2. Jake x Omaticaya Reader x Neytiri where instead of the Neteyam the reader gets shot and she dies and then after their reactions and how they greive type thing
A/n : thank you so much, I'm glad you loved my Fics 🥹 the second request will be in head canons and should probably be posted in a few days, I hope this fic doesn't feel like it's hurried, I hope y'all like it 🥰
Yengwal ♡✦
Pairing : Jake x fem!reader x Neytiri
Summary : 1. Request
Gentle 💚
❈ Warning : death of tulkun, angst, war , maybe mention of blood, grief, fighting, crying, fluffy end.
❈ Word count : 1.5k not proof read
"Word" - dialogue
❈ Note : this might feel like it's hurried but I wrote this in between working on other things 😭 so idk, please let me know if you feel something is off, I'll work on it.
❈ Glossary : y/n -your name, y/t/n - your tulkun name, tsurak - warrior's mount, ole ngati kameie - I see you, yawne - beloved , tiyawn - love, tsawksyul - sun flower
Tears streamed down your eyes as you floated on your ilu besides your now dead spirit brother, your heart shattering piece by piece as the time passed by, you pressed your head against his eye, a scream clawing its way up your throat, your cries piercing Jake's and Neytiri's heart, you wailed for your spirit brother, sharply turning around as you screamed at your mates "you brought this upon us, my spirit brother is dead because of you, it is your fault" your voice cracked in the end, turning to hug your brother for a last time, Ronal swam towards you, enveloping your shaking body in her arms as you cried in her neck, your heart too broken to form words, the drizzle of rain doing nothing but showing the tip of the sorrow what you felt.
You stood besides Ronal and tonowari, rage kindled in your chest, bubbling its way up, the clan swarmed in revolt, screaming for revenge against the killing of your tulkun, angry tears still ran down your cheeks, neytiri walked towards you as she tried to grab your arm but took a step back, hissing at her "do not touch me, you- you betrayed me" her face fell, eyes filled with sadness, Jake stood beside her, his voice wavering as he tried to explain but you were beyond that "y/n please listen to me, we didn't meant-" but you cut them of, as you yelled "you knew, you brought this to us, my brother is dead because of you Jake! He was my family!" He tried to grab your hand but you wrenched it out of his grip, coiling back, hot tears streaming down as you wailed in grief.
Jake tried his best to make you and the clan understand but no one listened, finally after minutes yelling Jake had enough when he told the others about the tracker making sure to tell them about the dangers that trail behind it, soon the whole of metkayina dived into the sea to inform the other tulkuns .
You sat with Ronal in her mauri, grief squeezing your heart, Jake and neytiri tried talking to you but tonowari said it was best they didn't seeing your state, neytiri wanted nothing but to hold you close to her, comfort you in your saddened state but you refused to see their faces, Jake was miserable, he felt guilty for this, he couldn't help but think it was his fault that this was happening, his mate, who is he promised that he'll keep her happy, was hurt because of him.
Time went by agonizingly slow, you were seated in a corner not speaking to anyone, dried stains of tears peppered your cheeks, your sniffles sounded once in a while, hurried steps sounded outside the pod, Jake and neytiri stumbled into the mauri, their breaths labored as they spoke in a quick voice "the kids- the kids are in danger, they are trying to save a tulkun, your children are there too" you were brought out your thoughts by that, immediately standing up as you walked towards them, worry filled your voice as you spoke "what are saying, ma'Jake? Are you sure?" He nodded, holding you by your shoulder, neytiri took your hand in hers, even if your anger towards them was still present but your worry for the children made you forget it.
»»————- ➴ ————-««
You were on your tsurak besides Jake, neytiri flew above you, the demon who held lo'ak at gunpoint spoke with Jake, words were faint, but in the end he shrugged his gun down, hissing at something you couldn't hear, he looked at locking eye contact but he shook his head, something was wrong, my eyes widened when he started moving forward, he was giving himself up, you called out before it was too late "ma'Jake-" but ,a tulkun shot out of the ocean, slamming onto the ship, taking our chance, we raged forward with a war cry.
You got onto the ship to help neteyam free lo'ak , tuk and tsireya, pulling tuk in my arms you kissed her forehead, ushering everyone to escape but lo'ak pulled back " we have to save spider, we can't leave him here" you looked at neteyam, the boy conflicted but he sighed nodding, you warned them to be safe and to turn back anytime in a risky situation, you took tsireya and tuk back down, swimming to safety, relieved to meet kiri inbetween, but your relief was short lived as two talons grabbed your shoulder bringing you up, your screams were unheard, seconds later you were thrown onto the ship, your struggle were in vain as they strapped you to the railing. Hours passed, kiri, tsireya and tuk tried to save you but the soldiers caught on first, now kiri and tuk were bound beside me while tsireya was thrown into the pool, the demon that kept us captured spoke with Jake, his voice low but soon he got into action.
You stood with a knife against my throat, the demon behind you pressing it harder into your neck, Jake had one of his hand cuffed onto the orange strap, you jerked your body to get out of his grip but before anything happened neytiri pounced out with a tawtute in her arms, a knife held in her own hands, the man behind you stilled, clearly feared for the boy's life as he spoke "you think i care for him? We're not even the same species" his words were bluff, and neytiri saw through it , suddenly she brought down the knife against the boy's chest and the hold on you was released, he pushed your body away as Jake caught you, neytiri pushed the boy away too, walking away towards tuk, you all slowly backing away.
»»————- ➴ ————-««
Jake fought with the demon while you, neytiri and tuk were stuck inside the tunnel you fell into, desperate to search your way out but none seem to be in sight, heaving the door open you went inside but it hit a dead end, turning back to open the door but the pressure was too strong and it wouldn't budge, swimming back to tuk and neytiri, you held them close to you, tears welled in your eyes as you pulled back to look at neytiri, she had tears of her own falling down her cheek, a sob wrenched out of you, as your hurtful words said earlier crashed back to you " I'm sorry, tiri, I'm so sorry, i didn't mean it" she didn't say anything pulling you back into the hug, kissing your forehead, she sighed finally forming words "it was not your fault, i understand yawne, your grief was too great, I'm sorry for bringing this on you" you shook your head vigorously, another sob spilling out, with a crack in your voice you spoke "no, the only thing you brought to me was love, nothing more, it is the demons fault my y/t/n is dead, not yours, not Jake's, ole ngati kameie ma'tiri" pressing your forehead against hers, she smile "ole ngati kameie, ma' y/n"
And tuk joined into the hug, squealing at the conversation.
Kiri soon found you, helping all three of you out of the sinking ship, coming up on the surface you saw Jake, neteyam and lo'ak on payakan, swimming forward joining them, Jake pulled you in for hug then neytiri, you sighed closing your eyes as finally everything was over, letting the overwhelming feeling subside in presence of your family, it would all be alright, it would all be okay.
»»————- ➴ ————-««
You sat with Jake and neytiri in your mauri, the kids fast asleep, it's been days after the battle and you kept your distance for a while, but now you couldn't stay away for to long, soon enough you pulled them in for a hug, and they didn't hold back, your voice near whisper as you spoke "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I didn't hear what I was saying, it was never your fault, you only brought love and happiness in my life, I'm so sorry " Jake smiled nuzzling his head in your hair, kissing your temple lightly before he started "it is alright yawne, you were hurt, we are not mad at you at all, we understand your pain tiyawn" Neytiri nodded kissing your cheek, resting a hand on the side of your face, wiping your tears away with her thumb, her voice soft as she said "you were angry and you were right for it, we love you no matter what, and we are sorry for the hurt we inflicted on you, tsawksyul, I'm happy eywa helped us come together again" her smile radiant, you pulled back, looking at your mates, considering yourself blessed to have such partners like them.
The night was spent with apologies and loving words, both Jake and Neytiri held you tight in their arms as all three of you swayed in the hammock, Jake's tail lightly thumping on your abdomen while Neytiri's wrapped around your ankle, slumber pulled you in, with no thoughts scrambling in your mind you relaxed giving inn, content in your mates arms, peace surrounding the mauri.
A/n : the second part of this request is still being written so be patient it will be posted soon 🤭🥰 thank you so much for your love and support, for being tagged comment on the pinned post on my acc ☺️
Yawne : @fanboyluvr, @callmeoncette, @lu-the-ghost-reader, @brisbrisket, @saltedcoffeescotch, @ducks118, @itscheybaby, @jackiehollanderr, @zoetrope1997, @yeosxxx, @persefolli, @theycallmesia, @elijangwifey, @erosthefae, @im-in-a-pansexual-panik, @killua2dot0, @ilovechickenwings, @kylobensgirl, @darling-imobsessed, @majathepapaya, @sweetirilly, @reinap06, @neteyamforlife, @thatgirljas13.
©Neteyamyawne2023 | All Rights Reserved. Do not repost on other platforms, copy, steal, or translate any of my works!
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what if suho transmigrated into royalty though? Would he still not actually like that? Afterall if let's say he is the son of a king or rich duke will he be ok with being tied to royalties since he is rich from the beginning? Excluding if the royalty family is horrible and people are planning to revolt against them?
i mean. i guess?? lloyd's main issue with royalty or being close to it is the danger it inherently involves.
he doesn't like the idea of being involved in any politics and that's exactly what happens when you're close to or part of the royal family. he'd much rather be the son of baron in the middle of nowhere that a well-off aristocrat.
sure being rich is nice, but if it comes with the dangers of being involved in a rebellion or a conspiracy it simply isn't worth it.
i think people overestimate how money oriented lloyd is. like. yes he does want to be rich, yes he does want to get as much money as he can, but it's not really about the money itself. it's about the safety and security it represents.
going into debt and losing all their money is what killed his parents and sunk him into a life of misery back in korea. lloyd is genuinely traumatized by that. him wanting to gain as much money as possible is all about him desperately trying to avoid being in the same situation that caused him so much pain. i joked about it before but it's literally the trauma that makes him have so many back up plans when it comes to his income sources.
i think if lloyd had been isekai'd into a family that wasn't on the brink of bankruptcy he wouldn't have tried to get rich nearly as hard as he did in canon. he woke up in a very triggering situation, where he was given the chance to avoid letting his new family fall apart the way he couldn't with his original one. of course he went over board with it.
but being rich and in danger isn't really any better in his mind. he wants a stable and comfortable life, not a particularly lavish one. being part of the royal family or the son of a rich duke maybe very comfortable, but there will always be a part of him worrying about whether he's about to be involved in a political mishap or a rebellion or what have you.
lloyd wants security. safety. to be able to protect his family and keep them happy. just that.
“It will be just burdensome for me to obtain more power, larger territories, a stronger military, or something along that line. I’ll be kept away from leisure to deal with it all. Doesn’t it seem like a lot of work? Thus, my only wish is for my family and the people around me to be at ease and happy. I want to live the rest of my life surrounded by their warmth without another day of work.”
“And that is why the Jewel of Truth is a burden to you?”
“Yes, since I already have everything necessary to make my dream come true. Nothing more is needed. So long as I stop the restoration of destiny, I’ll be able to achieve my goal. Anything beyond that would just become a stumbling block to my dream.”
i guess if there was a way for him to be absolutely sure that there was no danger at all for the family he was born into then he wouldn't mind? which i suppose he could use the ending spoiler for that but. i think a part of him would always worry. a part of him would always be on guard.
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What's your opinion of President Snow as a character in THG trilogy? Was he a great villain?
* Spoiler for TBOSAS *
After reading the novel, what's your opinion about Coriolanus Snow 'transformation' in the end?
Was it his nature or the way he was nurtured that led him to become the character we know?
Thank you :)
@curiousnonny
Thank you for the ask, I love talking about this series!! (Sorry this took me a while, it got way too long and confusing and I had to I break it up, so hopefully this makes sense 😆)
Trilogy
Since the trilogy is Katniss’ first-person account and we don’t see much of Snow, I didn’t really think about him that much. He is definitely a good villain, evil and terrifying.
For me, Snow was just this big imposing embodiment of evil in the trilogy. I didn’t take in a lot of his personality or care about his story. Rereading it now, I find him much more interesting.
The recurring theme of roses in the original trilogy was definitely one of my favourite things about Snow as a villain; the physiological terror of the genetically engineered scent and how that was weaponized was just horrible in the best way.
So I don’t think he was a boring villain by any means, I just didn’t humanise him at all.
Prequel
I love this book so much! I think it was the perfect choice for a prequel.
I know a lot of people want Haymitch, Finnick, and Joana’s Games. And while I do really like those characters and want to know more about them, I think it would kind of go against the message of the books. It would just be Games for Games sake, and wouldn’t really serve any purpose narratively.
Snow’s origin story, on the other hand, added so much for me! It furthers the messages.
The nature vs nurture debate can be kind of confusing for me; I can never seem to pick one over the other. I guess I agree with Lucy Gray, that we are all born with the choice and ability to choose our own path, and it’s our responsibility to stay on the right side.
I think we can be inclined one way or another, and that our experiences affect us, but ultimately we are moulded by our own choices. So I apply that to Snow as well.
Watching his transformation at the end was very interesting. It was both expected and made sense, while also feeling a bit abrupt. I was getting a little confused as I neared the end and had fewer and fewer pages left and Snow wasn’t just absolutely and completely revolting yet.
He was awful, yes, in the ways he spoke about people, his casual disregard for the lives of people from the Districts, his jealousy and ownership of Lucy Gray, the criticism of her and Tigris’ choices and what they had to do to survive. But he really crossed a lot of lines in those last few chapters.
I think Dean Highbottom and Dr Gaul shaped him, for sure. He was treated unfairly, and that angered him. The Capitol also taught him that he was intrinsically more valuable than people in the Districts and that the Snow legacy was important.
I find this paragraph interesting because it gives insight into how he thinks and how he sees himself. This is in twelve when he is having a conversation with Sejanus about Dr Gaul:
“I don't know," said Coriolanus. "It's like ... you know how she's always torturing that rabbit or melting the flesh off something?"
“Like she enjoys it?" asked Sejanus.
"Exactly. I think that's how she thinks we all are. Natural-born killers, Inherently violent," Coriolanus said. "The Hunger Games are a reminder of what monsters we are and how we need the Capitol to keep us from chaos."
"So, not only is the world a brutal place, but people enjoy its brutality? Like the essay on everything we loved about the war" said Sejanus.
It reminds me of Mockingjay when he’s talking about the bombs that took out Prim, and he says that he’s not wasteful. I think he has himself convinced that he doesn’t enjoy pain and death, but that he uses them strategically and that somehow that makes him a better person than the teachers of his childhood.
Ultimately, Snow hungered for power and felt he was owed it, so he would take any path necessary to achieve it. He was heavily influenced by his upbringing and finally chose to follow that path as far as it can take him.
In short, I thought the prequel was done really well and fits perfectly with the trilogy. It helped me to understand Snow better and make him a more three dimensional character.
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