#and you like just destroyed any desired to continue this interaction

[chatonfils]

….

[wickedusername]

You'll never know dick as good as mine.

Itadori Yuji+Ryomen Sukuna x fem!Reader

Synopsis:

Nothing sexual had happened yet between you and your boyfriend Yuji, and for a very good reason. He was terrified of what the demon possessing him might do if he ever got steamy with you. But once you push past the fear, you find out the demon Sukuna wants you just as bad – except he's rough, posessive, and absolutely unhinged.

Disclaimers: Yuji is over 18 in this. This assumes Yuji has had Sukuna for years. I don't like "y/n", your name is Namae. Everything else is jjk-consistent. Art and text are all handmade by me. MDNI.

Tw: inexperienced Yuji, rough sex (gagging, slapping, pain), swearing, namecalling, posessiveness, masturbation talk, a little hint of mindbreak talk, mention of murder (to avoid it).

Word count: 6,9k words (nice)

Epigraph:

“I need to destroy you, sweetheart. I need to make that brat sorry he ever let me near you. You won't sit for weeks. He will never satisfy you again. – he tilted his chin to whisper into your lips – You'll never know dick as good as mine.”

His hand on your thigh made it hard to pay attention to the show. Yuji's. Gently caressing your skin. You held out for a long time trying to focus but whenever the plot lulled and the caressing continued, you became laser focused on the feeling of him. It was his sofa... his apartment... nobody else but the two of you... It gave you... ideas.

You see, Itadori Yuji had been dating you for a while now. You knew he was a Jujutsu Sorcerer. He had already been one when you met him. You could see curses, but you were not. You knew about the messed up stuff he'd been through. And you knew about Ryomen Sukuna.

Sukuna. The reason nothing sexual ever happened between you. Always passively watching. Yuji was terrified of what Sukuna might do if you got steamy. And not unjustifiably: Even after vouching to stay away from Itadori's personal life, he didn't seem to have that restraint with you. His nasty mouth had already blurted out Yuji's desires to you, always to belittle and humiliate him. Yes, Sukuna was extremely powerful and strong yada yada. That might've even been kind of attractive if all you knew of him from personal interaction wasn't him having fun at your boyfriend's expense and saying nasty things about you.

So when you placed your own hand on Yuji's leg and kissed him, you knew what might be coming. But you didn't care. He was your boyfriend, and screw Sukuna. And right now, your boyfriend was getting you too riled up to ignore.

Yuji completely gave in to the kiss, holding your face with both hands to pull you close. Neither of you paid any attention to the TV anymore. He turned and twisted your head in the direction of his kiss, eventually moving his hands to your hair and completely messing it up.

When the two of you pulled away from each other after a sultry, long kiss, there was a tension in the air. A hesitancy. What now. What of... you know... Sukuna. But you pushed right past it. Screw Sukuna. Screw if he mocks you, berates you, or yells down both your ears. You wanted your boyfriend.

You brought a leg across Yuji's body, sitting on his lap. He looked up at you seeking confirmation, but you just kissed him again. He latched onto you passionately, pulling you in against his frame. You made out as he grinded you against his toned body. His tongue swirled around yours, exploring your mouth, throwing your tongue about. Against your lower region you could feel the outline of his bulge, begging to get free.

Your hands were all over. He felt your breasts, your butt, your waist, he latched on to the back of your neck as if he would never let go. And you explored his arms, his hair, under his shirt. Fuck, how can a normal human man have this defined of an abdomen. You felt him up his back, down his abs, until you reached the rim of his shorts. The two of you pulled away to look at each other for consent before you tentatively placed a hand over his outline. You had never felt it up before. It was longer than you had imagined. But what else to expect of Itadori Yuji, the overachiever.

Still looking at you for approval, he unbuttoned your jean shorts and slid his palm down the opening to cup your own sex. He wasn't gonna let you do this just for him. You palmed each other ever so eagerly, which turned to fondling, which turned to straight up mutual masturbation. You burrowed your face in his hair while he flicked your clit over your panties as they soaked. His fingers alternated between teasing your clit and sliding between your folds, soaking your underwear with slick. Meanwhile he hid in the crevices of your neck, placing soft kisses in sync with your stroking of his dick, even if through his underwear. You felt up and down his shaft, the shape of his head, the slit at the tip. You wanted nothing more than to have it inside you.

You did this for an embarrassing amount of time. Each time things got risky for either of you, you stopped, caught your breath, focused only on them for a while, until inevitably they got too hot and asked to stop as well. It could go on forever. Just the two of you, like this, feeling each other. But it wouldn't.

– Just fuck already, for fuck's sake! – a familiar, unpleasant voice yelled from Itadori's cheek.

– Oh hell no, not you! – Yuji scrunched up his entire face and threw his head back in frustration. Everything you two had going on fell to pieces.

– What's the hold up, are you too much of a pussy? – Sukuna scowled at Yuji resentfully.

– You! You're the hold up! You sick leering pervert, go mind your own business! – Yuji yelled at his own cheek.

– Unfortunately, I can't, so I might as well find entertainment in yours. If you're not gonna fuck her, let me do it.

– Are you insane? I'm not letting you touch her with a ten foot pole.

– Wouldn't you know it, I have a ten foot pole! My dick. Now give me control.

You couldn't help but lightly snort at his absurdist remark, and you immediately covered your mouth, but still both of them heard it through your resounding quietude.

– Well aren't I a charmer? She's into it! – Sukuna's mouth shifted into a smug grin.

– No I am not! – You made sure to correct him, but still held back a smile.

– I don't think either of us are into your crap, Sukuna. Piss off. – Yuji rebuked.

– Fuck me. – Sukuna rolled his eye way back into its socket. – Yuji, you inexperienced, dumb motherfucker. She's so fucking horny, and you're too much of an idiot to even answer to it. She wants dick so bad, don't you sweetheart? – Sukuna stared your messy body up and down. – I could fuck you so good.

Unfortunately for everyone, he was right. You were horny. And Yuji was inexperienced. Well, he wasn't a virgin since high school, but not much else after that, especially with Sukuna hanging around for so long. You didn't have much better of a repertoire, sure, but that still just meant Sukuna was the most sexually active of all of you – and he wasn't sexually active for centuries. Before you could say anything, he resumed his argument with Itadori.

– I've seen you jerking off to her a hundred fucking times, at least seeing you go at it in real life will give me something more interesting to look at than your weak-ass stroke game.

You covered your mouth to hide the small, sympathetic smile planted on your lips. Itadori's face turned bright red, and he stuttered trying to figure out what he should do first, curse out Sukuna or explain himself to you. But you? You were endeared by this conversation. Charmed. Both of them wanted you. Your boyfriend had been fantasizing about you for months and Ryomen Sukuna the king of curses, instead of cussing and slandering you, wanted to give you the fucking of a lifetime. You were tempted to accept. Both of them.

Yuji swallowed his pride, collected his thoughts and took a deep breath before turning to you.

– Sukuna, you shut up. Namae... I... If Sukuna isn't a bother, do you... want to head to the bedroom? I still really want you. Despite everything.

– Itadori Yuji... I've wanted you to ask this for so long. – You placed your elbows over his shoulders and crossed your wrists behind him lovingly.

– Fucking finally! – Sukuna sighed, but was promptly interrupted.

– This is not happening if you don't shut your mouth, Sukuna! – Yuji assured his possessor.

– Fine. But I'm gonna enjoy this. – Sukuna closed his features into Yuji's face with a mean smirk.

Yuji turned to you wide-eyed, as if to say "can you believe this guy?", but you didn't care. You just wanted Yuji, and if the King of Curses got off on it, that just... honestly? kinda made it hotter.

When you planted a soft kiss on your boyfriend's lips, you hoped he wasn't afraid of Sukuna anymore. He scooted away from the backrest and pushed your legs from folded beside him to wrapping around his waist so he could carry you away. And he so easily got up from the couch, carrying your weight and his with just his leg strength, softly squishing where his grip met your ass.

He placed delicate nose rubs in your neck and into your hair while he looked at the way he was going. His shirt smelled like sports deodorant and his hair like bubblegum shampoo. He placed you down onto his bed like a princess, and proceeded to stare in fascination at the sight of you. On his bed. Finally.

Yuji walked to the end of the bed and pulled off your shoes like you were a doll, then slid his palms soothingly up your thighs to the rim of your already unbuttoned shorts. You lifted your hips so he could pull them down. As you did, you held your arms outstretched to him.

He stuck his face in your breasts as he slithered his arms under your shirt to your bra. You wrapped your own over his neck to crumple his shirt on your palms, pulling on it to reveal his unbelievably muscular back.

He pulled himself away from your chest to remove your shirt. You had to let go of his shirt, which fell back over him, but not for long. He stood up himself and pulled his shirt off from the neck, that way guys did that you found crazy sexy. You were mesmerized at Yuji's physique. Even though you had seen him shirtless before, he'd never looked this hot. While he was still standing he removed his shorts, but stopped at the rim of his boxers. Were you really doing this? Sukuna watching and everything? He had been so afraid of Sukuna for so long, it never felt at all possible.

– I-ta-do-ri. Come on, I want you! – you snapped him out of it.

– Oh... I'm sorry. Just... Can I take off yours first?

You replied by reaching behind your back and unclasping your bra. After a few tries, of course. It's never as easy as in the movies.

Itadori put one knee on the mattress and leaned over you to delicately pull down your bra straps and pull the cups down, revealing your breasts to him for the first time.

– You're so pretty, Namae... – You wriggled the straps off of your arms, throwing the bra off to the side, and cupped his face. – I want to bury my face in you and never let go.

– You can. Yuji. I'm yours... – you smiled softly at him, and he lowered himself to leave kiss after kiss all over your torso.

He kissed your nipples, your breasts, your ribs, your belly, your belly, your belly, lower and lower. He placed his fingers on the rim of your panties and pulled them down slowly, taking in every patch of skin revealed to him. He pulled them smoothly down your legs until he could throw it off to the side, roughly towards where you'd thrown your bra. He leaned over again and placed soft kisses on your clit and on your labia, moving his jaw into pouts so his lip dragged against you. He could have done more but he felt his dick twitch and he couldn't resist much longer.

– Ah, I'm sorry to rush, but I need to be inside you... – he inched closer as he grabbed his dick through his boxers, a wet patch of precum staining the place where his tip pressed against the cotton.

– Get inside me, Yuji... I need you so bad! – you reached out to him and placed your fingers over the rim of his underwear, urging them off.

Itadori pulled them off finally, revealing his smooth, pink, long dick. It looked so inviting. As soon as all his clothes were off, Yuji climbed on top of you missionary style, holding his dick and panting in excitement as he placed his tip against your sex, making you open your legs for him. With an arm beside your head to support him, you could appreciate his body so well.

– I'm gonna get in... – he warned before finding your entrance with his head and pushing his tip inside with a moan. He placed his nose against your cheek and closed his eyes, then shoved his way further inside until he was in to the hilt.

– Yuji! Slower! – you whined at the feeling of him. He felt so much bigger than he looked when he was inside you.

– Sorry.. I'm just so excited to fuck you. – he giggled, then lowered his arms in a push-up to kiss you tenderly.

He slid in and out of you repeatedly, his abs having no issue in doing all of the work. You pressed your legs against his sides but his thrusts just forced them down into the bed again, and his rhythm felt so regular and so good inside you. You lowered a hand to touch youself while he rammed into you, flicking your clit, feeling the pubic region of his six-pack pressing into your hand time and time again.

– do you want me to do that for you? – Yuji asked after noticing your hand.

– No, you focus on filling me up, I know how to touch myself best. – your other hand cupped his cheek and you brought him down to place a peck on his lips, on his jaw, then on... a mouth?

You gasped as you tried to pull back and realized your lip was stuck between sukuna's teeth, on a mouth in Yuji's cheek. He let go right after with a smirk, but you were still surprised. Yuji realized what happened and slowed down, unable to just stop.

– Sukuna! You said you weren't interrupting! – Yuji sighed in frustration, trying to just focus on his pace.

– What are you gonna do, stop mid-sex? - Sukuna guffawed. Yuji wouldn't stop now and he knew it.

– It's fine, Yuji. Just focus on me. – You turned Yuji's face to you again, looking him deep in the eyes, and he let out a relieved smile.

Itadori picked up his pace again and looked at your face the entire time, just taking in the view of you, your hair messy, framing your flushed face, smiling at him and whimpering at his thrusts. His hands right beside your face, reminding him that he wasn't imagining, it was really him on top of you. Sweat planting on your forehead from the pressure in your core, bringing you closer to the edge. Small droplets of sweat coming down his hair. It was all too much.

– I'm so close! – Yuji exclaimed, his pounding against you never changing.

– Hey brat, come outside, don't ruin her pussy for me! – Sukuna barked.

– Oh piss off! – Yuji retorted toward his cheek – you're too good to pull out of...

You nodded yes. He knew you had a contraceptive. He could come inside you as much as he wanted. He would come inside you. He would come inside you right now.

Yuji moaned loudly as his dick twitched inside you, filling you with warm cum. His breath caught in his throat, his vision filling with stars. His pace slowed down as his body couldn't process any more effort. You stopped touching yourself to hold his chest up, as it seemed his arms would give out.

– Fuck! Wow! – Itadori groaned as he grinded to a halt, his member still shaking, releasing the last pumps of semen it could muster. – you.. – a stop to catch his breath – you're so amazing.

Yuji plopped down to his elbows, panting, and placed a breathy, deep kiss on your mouth. You smiled at each other tenderly.

– Now step aside, brat, it's my turn to fuck her. – Sukuna's mouth commanded

– No way in hell! – his contentment shifted quickly to annoyance.

– It's ok, Yuji... He can do it... I want Sukuna to have me too... – you spoke softly, tentatively wondering what a taste of Sukuna's stregth would feel like. You still hadn't come, anyway. Sukuna's mouth smiled like it had won the lottery and let out a hearty laugh.

– Isn't she a little freak! You heard her, brat! Let me out! – The mouth snarled.

– Fuck no, you're gonna kill her!

– If it will convince you to let me have her, I won't kill her, I swear it on a pact.

– Or hurt her! – Yuji added.

– ..or harm her. Pact. I'll fuck her good and then I'm out. – Sukuna stared up at Yuji excitedly wide-eyed, truly meaning it.

Yuji turned to you.

– Are you sure?

– Yuji.. it's ok. – you whisper with a reassuring smile.

– It's a pact, Sukuna!! – Itadori shouted down at his own chest.

– Sealed! – Sukuna barely contained his excitement.

With a defeated sigh, Yuji relaxed his worried eyebrows.

– This is just because you asked, Namae.

Hesitantly, he let Sukuna take over his body, tattoos bleeding through his skin like ink through paper.

– Well, I just might hurt her a tiny bit. – His eyes and two more opened with bright red pupils and Sukuna ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back to feel more like himself.�� Now you. Time we show this brat what a real fuck looks like.

Sukuna grabbed your ass roughly, shoving his fingers between you and the mattress to lift your hips up to his eye level. You let out a surprised yelp as he held you in a hip raise.

– Ah, Sukuna! – your whimper fell on deaf ears.

– Look what a mess he made in this pretty pussy. – He put two fingers inside you and scooped out a spoonful of cum, before leaning over you and bringing his fingers to your mouth.

– Lick them clean. – he darted his fingers to your lips, parting them easily. You sucked the sour-salty goop off his hand and licked thoroughly around his black nails, all while looking him in the eyes with lust gleaming in your stares.

– what a good whore you are...

You hummed in agreement. Sukuna pulled out his hand, dragging a thin strand of drool with it, and immediately brought it back to your asscheek, squeezing them tight and lowering his head right down to your sex to inspect it closely.

– Look at this pretty pink cunt... that idiot kid didn't even lick it. I need to know what it tastes like...

With that, he burrowed his face in you, pushing your hips into the mattress with his hands still under it to hold your pussy angled right at him. Sukuna licked up and down your slit multiple times, humming at the taste, before mercilessly sucking on your clit like one does a thick milkshake while flicking his tongue into it at a crazy pace. The curse extracted helpless moans from your mouth at the feeling building up inside you overwhelmingly fast.

Make no mistake, he didn't care about your pleasure. He cared about tasting you, about absolutely humiliating Yuji's attempt at oral, about making sure you were never going to have a better experience than him. He was in to get you hooked. And he was a drug with an alarming addiction rate.

– Ah- Sukuna! It's too much! – you gripped the markings on his wrists and curled your toes against his back as tension built at your core.

– Hmm? – He moaned into you before pulling up to look at you, ruining all the momentum he had going. – I'm not letting up until I taste your cum, so the more you call for me to stop the longer we'll be here. I'd shut up and come if I were you.

You bit your lip and nodded yes, not wanting to say another word to interrupt him. He lowered his face back to your clit and ran circles into it with his tongue while looking you in the eye and watching you melt under his mouth. With a moan, you threw your head back into the pillow, which he took as a signal to go full force on the sucking. With a closed set of eyes keeping him focused on your clit and another looking down at your entrance, he brought two fingers inside of you and thrusted with them softly, rubbing against the back of your clit with his digits.

You didn't last long with that pace. Within a minute you were clenching around his fingers with loud involuntary moans and releasing your juices all over his fingers. Before you were even over it, Sukuna's mouth had swapped places with his hand and he was slipping his tongue into your entrance, licking up your juices like they were syrup.

– Hummm – He licked one last patch up your slit, leaving a sticky trail of saliva and cum connected to his tongue. As he licked his lips, you couldn't help but become extremely turned on by his smug expression. – just as sweet as I thought. You loved this, didn't you? Whore.

You nodded eagerly, biting your bottom lip with furrowed eyebrows, face pink as a shrimp. Sukuna licked up whatever was on his fingers and looked at you sternly.

– Now turn around, I don't fuck like that vanilla brat. – he held you by the waist and turned you on your belly effortlessly, before kneeling between your legs and pulling your hips off the bed to the height of his dick.

You made a motion to lift your torso and stand on all fours to see him better, but Sukuna promptly grabbed your head and shoved the side of your face into the mattress.

– I didn't tell you to move, greedy bitch. You don't get to pick how you'll stand.

– Sukuna... you can fuck me however you want... – you mumbled to appease him, and he released some of the weight from his push.

— That's more like it. Acting like the dirty whore you are. – He slapped your ass hard enough to leave a red handprint on it. From the side of your peripheral you could see him ever so slightly.

Swiftly, he positioned his member on your entrace and slid in to the hilt. With how wet you were, and having taken it before, it entered laughably easily. With another hard slap on your ass, he started pumping into you at a leisurely pace but strikingly hard, ramming the bedframe against the wall with each pump.

– Ah, this puny brat's cock isn't enough... you should have seen mine. – He tilted his head to the side in pleasure, staring intently at the place where he slid in and out of you. – Fuck.. – another slam – I'd be ripping you in half...

He threw his head back as he continued ramming into you, making you bite the sheets and grip the bed to take him.

– Fuck. Fuck! Fuck!! – He exclaimed as he couldn't hold it anymore and his dick twitched inside you, filling you with his cum. He groaned, his legs shook and his hands gripped the sides of your hips so hard they would leave 10 well-defined bruises, only letting go after he was done.

– Shit. Fuck. – Sukuna dropped his weight into your back, making you collapse to the mattress under him. – I haven't fucked someone is so many centuries, I barely lasted five minutes... Even going so slow...

After catching his breath, he pushed himself off you to the side where he would face you, before lifting your chin with one hand to look you in the eyes.

– Sorry princess, but I'm gonna need a round two. I'm not done with you yet.

– Is- isn't that against your pact? – you muttered timidly, afraid of what he might do to you if you bothered him.

– The pact was I fuck you good. Was that good enough for you? Because it definitely wasn't for me.

Before you could answer, he pulled your face towards him so your forehead touched his and his red eyes were staring from the shadow straight into yours. His voice lowered to a deep rumble.

– I need to destroy you, sweetheart. I need to make that brat sorry he ever let me near you. You won't sit for weeks. He will never satisfy you again. – he tilted his chin to whisper into your lips – You'll never know dick as good as mine.

A shiver flew down your spine as Sukuna flung you around on your back and pinned you against the bed. He didn't as much kiss you as he did spit in your mouth, shove his tongue in it and lick it all around, staring you down the entire time. Not a minute into it, he bit your lip until he could taste blood. You moaned and tears formed in your eyes, but it's not like you could talk with his mouth on yours. As soon as he moved his mouth down to your throat, you tried to clammer for restraint.

– SUKUN- – You didn't even finish his name before he slammed his hand over your mouth, gripping your cheeks, keeping you quiet. All you could do was mutter muffled curses into his hand and scratch his back and arm as hard as you could, as he bit and sucked tens of painful, visible hickeys into every part of your neck. All those purple marks to make it clear that you had been his. Not Itadori's. His.

His other hand let go of your wrist to roughly fondle your breast as he planted more hickeys on your shoulders, and you took the opportunity to use both your hands against him. You grabbed his wrist and his fingers to bite hard into his hand, hoping it would make him let go.

You bit him. You bit him harder. You felt like you could have ripped a piece of his flesh by now. He finished a hickey with a loud pop and chuckled into your collarbone, not moving his hand a single inch. He brought his face up to you.

– You want to talk that bad? – He tittered. – How pathetic. But I'll concede. – He removed his hand from your mouth.

– Sukuna!! What the hell! – You yelled in a desperate plea.

– What? Didn't you ask for this? – His face grew a huge shit-eating grin, thoroughly entertained by your distress.

– That hurt so bad! You said no hurting!!

– I said no harm. Big difference. What's the harm in a little rough play? – Mid-sentence, he stood up on his knees and threw your entire body over his shoulder. He scooted himself off the bed and planted you down in front of him. Without a hitch, he shoved you to your knees, bruising those too. You didn't even have time to react.

– Now shut the fuck up and get this stupid human dick hard again.

He gripped your hair hard and pushed your head close to his semi-hard dick. You had no idea how this body was already boasting a semi after coming twice, but you weren't complaining. It was only once for the curse, you figured.

You wrapped your fingers around his base and placed his tip on your tongue, but before you could do any movement yourself, Sukuna gripped your head still and buried himself all the way to your throat, gagging you. He didn't wait: he fucked your mouth himself, gagging you every time he pushed in. You closed your eyes and gasped for air whenever you could and tears started running down your face from the gagging.

– Oh come on! You're not a bitchy crybaby, are you? – he pulled himself halfway out, letting you breathe.

You weren't. You didn't want him to stop.You looked up at him in a dead-serious stare swirling your tongue around his tip. His smile opened wide as you slid your head up his cock, up the tattooed lines on his shaft that extended all the way to his groin.

– That's what I'm talking about! That's the dirty whore I want! You fucking slut!

He pulled hard on your hair and resumed fucking your mouth until your face was turning purple from lack of air. He pulled himself out and painfully hoisted you up by your hair until it forced you to stand up.

– You're such a good hoe. You deserve to get dicked down so good.

Sukuna bent his knees to reach your thighs and pulled you up to carry you on his lap, much like Yuji had done. You wrapped your legs and arms around him for support, and he walked slowly towards the end of the bed. He took his sweet time grinding you against him, groping your ass hard and shoving his face into the back of your ear to plant another hickey. With your legs spread, the cum from his last orgasm dripped down your ass and into the floor. Instead of throwing you on the bed like you expected, he turned around and sat on it with you on his lap.

– You're gonna be good whore and sit on this dick for me, won't you sweetheart?

– I will... I want it so bad...

He held his shaft at the base, ready for you. With his guiding hand on your hip, you sat on him, feeling filled once again. His hand gripped the side of your ass, guiding you to hop up and down on his cock. This position made him reach so deep inside you. His other hand forced your head down and both of you watched as the end of his tattoo disappeared and reappeared from inside your cunt.

– Faster. – Sukuna commanded. He licked your neck and placed the other hand on your hip to fully control your pace. He lifted you up and down repeatedly and ever more strongly, like he wasn't getting enough. You hopped on him for a full minute while he licked the markings he left on you, and yet he seemed completely unneffected.

– Faster! – he was almost entirely lifting you with his arm strength for each slam, but your thigh muscles were still burning from the sustained effort.

– I can't go any faster! — You cried out to Sukuna, and he groaned.

– This is just too goddamn slow.

He held you by the waist with both hands, lifted you off his cock and put you down beside him. For a second you though he would ask you something but in the blink of an eye he grabbed your neck and shoved you forwards into the bed. Before you had time to react, he was over you, dragging you by the nape, shoving your face in front of the pillow. He turned you around to face him and lifted your legs over his bulging biceps. Before you could do anything, he placed his hands on the sides of your waist, forcing your legs up, keeping you stuck in a mating press.

Before you could even adjust yourself, his dick was inside you again, slamming into you so hard and fast it felt inhuman. It was. He was hitting so deep you thought he was going to tear your labia open. His balls slammed against the bottom of your asscheeks, leaving them red. And the pace, oh god the pace. He was slamming as fast as a vibrator. It hurt your everything, your leg muscles being pushed up past your flexibility, your pussy sore, your back rubbing against the sheets harshly, your belly getting hit so deep you think it he might as well be hitting your cervix, but you couldn't even tell.

Sukuna lowered his head to your chest, sucking roughly on your nipples and biting them raw, never letting up on his pounding.

– Su- kun- ah!– you managed to let out as much as your breath would let you. Tears from the pain distorted your vision, making you unable to see his expression when he turned his head to you. – Less!!! – Is all you managed to let out.

– No. – Was all he replied.

Sukuna lifted his torso and slithered his arm away from one of your legs. He wrapped his hand around your throat, choking you, restraining you from speaking any more. It felt relieving to have nothing pushing your leg down past your point of comfort, but he was still pounding you at full force and you didn't dare keep it any less raised than Sukuna had left it. And you were right to do so.

– Keep those legs up, I don't still have four arms to hold them down while I touch you. – Sukuna commanded while he slithered his other arm away to touch your clit.

If you thought his thrusting was too much, he was amping it up a notch by choking you and flicking your clit with his thumb while he did it. All you could do was whimper and close your eyes, making the accumulated tears roll down your cheeks.

– "I know how to touch myself best", little whore. You must touch yourself all the time, don't you? But you don't know how to touch yourself best, I do.

Sukuna pressed his thumb on your clit and found the sweet spot under the hood, and immediately flicked into it as fast as a vibrating toy. He knew where to look. He knew what to do. And he didn't leave the sweet spot no matter how much his thrusts shook the bed.

Heat built up in your stomach so strongly that you were sweating. Both your hands held his wrist, trying to pull back his chokehold. Your feet twitched, restless, and you pushed with the plant of your feet against his muscular deltoids, digging your toes into his tattoos, unable to stay still.

– I'm gonna use you until you break, you little whore. – Sukuna lowered his face to as close to yours as he could to blurt out depravities to your ear. – You'll beg Yuji for my dick for the rest of your life.

This was it. You released what was probably the strongest orgasm you ever had, rippling through you in waves, squeezing around Sukuna's dick and his merciless pounding. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you screamed out with whatever part of your throat that wasn't being choked, which resulted in a loud, breathless whimper. He roared with laughter at the feeling of your walls clenching against him.

He just kept pounding. Your sensitive walls were no reason for his mercy, and to your horror, his thumb pressed on your clit again as soon as you were done squeezing.

– One more! Then I'll fill you up. – Sukuna grinned, all four eyes wide, staring at your fucked out, fearful face with sick glee.

His touch on your sensitive clitoris burned like fire, but it hurt so good, and heat kept building up in your core confusingly, mixing what was your previous orgasm still fading out, what was new heat building up. Were you still riding the same wave? Were you building up a new one? Everything just felt like an orgasm, all of his touches made your walls squeeze around him.

You gasped for air desperately and Sukuna released his grip on your neck so he could make sure he wouldn't kill you and risk breaking a pact. You brought your hands to scratch his neck and back in protest, using your nails to pierce as deep as you could, doing your best to draw blood, but everything you did healed immediately. You pushed him with your feet and pulled him with your hands and yet he wouldn't budge, nothing seemed to have an effect.

With Sukuna's unrelenting touch and pulse within you, your head spun. Your abdomen spasmed, clenching with pleasure, everything felt like electricity. Everything that hurt, hurt so good. He groped your breasts with the hand that was choking you before and you didn't even notice it at first because everything else was so overwhelming. You were sweating, flushed, tensing all the muscles in your body worse than the world's most exhausting exercise.

You wanted to protest but nothing came out of your mouth but unhinged, sporadic moans. It's not that you didn't care about bothering the neighbors, but it didn't even cross your mind. It couldn't. There was no space in your brain to process it. Sukuna teased and cursed at you, calling you names, uttering so many dirty remarks, and you barely processed any of it. Everything you could feel was so strong, it numbed your other four senses. The only way you could hold yourself grounded was focusing on your hands scraping the back of his neck.

When you came again, you didn't know it was possible to come this hard. All the pressure that had built up in you just released, burst after burst, and you couldn't contain the loudest, involuntary moan that ever left your mouth. It woke up the neighbors. Your walls squeezed shut every time he slid out before he forced is way through again. Your hands clawed at him, pulling with all you had at the short hairs in the back of his neck, your body convulsed, and you creamed all over him. With his pulsing still uninterrupted, you felt some of it slide out and run down your crack. That's how much you'd come. Sukuna finally, finally stopped pounding into you.

– What a good, wet cunt you are! – Sukuna praised you, bringing the hand from your clit to your waist, petting your belly like the congratulatory pet you'd give a dog.– you're so slick for me, fucking you is gonna be so easy.

You were still catching your breath. He grabbed the pillows from the top of the bed, one after the other, and slid out of you for only a minute to put them under your hips. Instead of fucking you with his legs outstretched, he was now kneeling in front of you.

– Hm. Not tall enough. I don't suppose you can wheelbarrow with those lanky arms, can you? – You didn't reply. You didn't even know what a wheelbarrow was. – I'll take that as a no.

Sukuna lifted your hips to the height of his dick and entered you while kneeled, forcing you to flex your abdomen in a hip raise so you wouldn't fall into the bed. He held no reservations, slamming into you as hard as he had at the start, but faster. Your pussy was dangerously sore by now, but the wetness made him glide in so easily still. You had no idea how he hadn't come yet.

– If he never lets me near you again, remember this – he continued the loud slamming that was scratching the floor and chipping paint from the wall at the edges of the bedframe's panel. – I only let Yuji fuck you at all because he's the middle man here. You are mine to fuck. You will beg for me again, won't you?

– But- – Sukuna stuffed his fingers into your mouth.

– But nothing. This is a yes or no question. You will beg to have me again, won't you?

– Yes... Sukuna... – you confessed, drooling on his fingers. It wasn't a lie. Your head still spun from pleasure. Maybe you would regret this after your head cleared out, but if Yuji took his body back right now, you would plead, thrash and beg for Sukuna. He was a completely different experience, and it was mindnumbing.

– Good whore. – He held your hips in place and pounded into you with gusto. – I'm gonna fill you up so bad, you'll be dripping cum for hours, you tight, nasty bitch.

He slammed hard into you, everything sore, everything hurting. Your shoulders chafed from the the weight of your body and the strength of his slams. You brought your hands to your mouth to bear it, biting on the meat of your palm. Sukuna just kept pounding, ripping your open, with deep grunts not from effort, but from pleasure.

You thought you couldn't bear another second of it before you heard his grunts get interupted by his own hitching breath, and his hands digging into you again, piercing your skin with his nails, his abs contracting, outlining the bumps in his six-pack, his neck bulging. He came inside you again with a loud grumble and all you felt was his strokes becoming inconsistent, his dick twitching wildly while the tried to pump more, until he finally stopped and dropped down to the bed, sitting over his knees. His breath was erratic, and his sweaty hair stuck to his forehead. And yet he could still look you in the eye with a chuckle.

He leaned in and placed his palms at your sides, towering over you. Then, Sukuna gave you the sweetest smile you'd ever seen on his face and planted a sloppy, passionate kiss goodbye on your mouth. Just because he could. Just out of spite. Just to leave his taste on your mouth. Then he grinned smugly.

– Heh. Have fun masturbating to this memory forever. – He grimaced with twisted pride at his own remark – See you next time if Itadori isn't too humiliated to ever touch you again.

With that line, Sukuna closed his eyes and melted away. His wide smile faded along with his markings, and Yuji's hazel eyes opened back up with a stunned, terrified glare.

Immediately, all of Yuji's muscles gave out. His entire body was sore. He fell with a grunt into the bed with barely enough strength to turn on his back and stare incredulously at the ceiling.

– what... the fuck. What the FUCK!  – Yuji yelled at nothing, panting. He was horrified.

– ...what the fuck. – you were starstruck.

[moodymisty]

𝕲𝖔𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖘; 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Part 1 of ?

Author's note: Part 1! Realistically it'll probably be 3 parts, but it might be 4 depending on how my writing goes. This is all just boring plot, sorry i have to excuse my smut with gratuitous plot buildup.

Summary: During the Razing of Monarchia, The Emperor decides to take something of Lorgar's that will persuade him back to compliance; Though he doesn't leave the goddess of Colchis unmarked.

Relationships: Lorgar/Fem!Reader, nonconsensual/onesided Emperor/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Noncon/dubcon, Mind fuckery, Kidnapping, Abuse,

Monarchia burns.

Smoke billows into massive clouds that cover the skyline like a catastrophic storm, the sun being obscured. The battlefield is darkened over like it's about to rain, but the fighting is all but over.

Guilliman speaks to one of his captains, coordinating the conclusion and retrieval of all of his men when his eyes pull away from the Ultramarine.

The Emperor approaches. His golden armor shines opulently even in the darkness of the smoke choked sky.

He is flanked by two custodes, of which sport the ornate golden armor denoting the meticulousness of their creation.

The Emperor had only recently arrived, the battle having long since been concluded and Malcador having already spoken to Lorgar in length. Upon a degradation of those talks did the Emperor make an appearance, and Guilliman wonders if those talks bore any fruit. He didn't see the point in them, now that Monarchia was in flames.

Though hasn't seen Lorgar since, and Guilliman can only assume he more than likely never will. The blow that Guilliman has dealt to him with never be repaired. What little relationship they had is ash.

But what- who - The Emperor approaches with besides his custodes, is far more confusing.

One of those custodians holds by the arm a woman, you, barely able to keep on your feet. You seem tired, barely able to stand. It's like he's dragging you along. You only manage to right yourself once the Emperor and his retinue stop walking, and you let out a cough; Ragged and tired. He sees ash staining your skin on your hands and cheeks.

You look up towards him briefly for a moment, eyes red, and he looks back while glancing over your form.

The ornate clothing, the delicate jewelry...

Guilliman had heard through the others that Lorgar had taken a lover. But he had heard little more of it than that; He didn't need to. Guilliman kept his interactions with Lorgar brief, and strictly business. He had no desire to listen to Lorgar's ramblings- unlike Sanguinius, who found it all amusing.

You know he calls her his little goddess, right? The two seem like they're made for each other. Perhaps we should meet her one day, she seems interesting.

Your clothes are singed at the edges, the ornate trimming and delicate fabric seared and destroyed from walking through the hot ash and embers of your home.

Perhaps Guilliman shouldn't care. He knows the Emperor doesn't. But he feels something in him at that moment, though he simply buries it down.

They are doing as the Emperor orders, and they know this needed to be done. Lorgar needed to be taught a lesson, and his legion was simply the tool to do so.

"I see you are already beginning to depart."

The Emperor takes only a brief glances to the area filled with landed Ultramarine ships, before looking back.

"Yes. We will be gone within next few hours." Guilliman looks down at you again for a moment, and notices how you seem almost, absent.

"What do you plan to do with her?"

Guilliman says, trying to word it in a way that shows mere curiosity rather than suspicious prying. The implication that he already knows who you are obvious.

The Emperor looks towards the custode holding your arm, and a few moments later that custode begins to take you away. You get towed towards the ship that The Emperor had arrived in, and disappear into it as they continue speaking.

Guilliman's eyes follow for awhile, his men's as well, but they all leave return to the Emperor when he speaks again.

"When a child misbehaves, you take away their toys until they learn."

Emperor looks directly at Guilliman.

"When Lorgar rights himself and his legion, I will return her to him."

He wonders what words had been exchanged; Lorgar would never give you up willingly from the what he has heard, you more than likely had to be torn from his arms. It would explain the torn clothes, the tears in your eyes.

Guilliman isn't much of a fan of the idea. But Lorgar needs to be taught a lesson, to stop this nonsense of religion and worship, and Guilliman won't resist the Emperor's plans.

He takes one more glance at the massive golden custodes ship that is warming up it's engines, preparing to leave the wreckage of Colchis behind. Guilliman clears his throat.

"Very well."

The Emperor gives nary a farewell, and turns on his right boot to walk towards where his custodes had trod previously. Guilliman and his Ultramarines stay however, his men chattering in the distance to continue their extraction. They have men and machinery to count for.

"You seem unsure of something, my Lord."

Thiel approaches his commander with his bolter slung comfortably in his arms. Guilliman looks to him briefly.

Was he unsure? He has doubted the Emperor before, but those brief thoughts were kept firmly to himself. The Emperor has knowledge even he does not he's sure, questioning him isn't his place to tread.

"Not unsure, Sargent. Just thinking." Thiel hums and adjusts his grip on his weaponry.

"Is it about that woman? Who was she?" The marine probably wonders what baseline human is worth enough to be toted by custodes, Guilliman imagines. He won't disagree that it was an odd scene.

"That was Lorgar's wife."

Thiel doesn't hide the furrowed brow of confusion on his face. Not many had even considered the possibility of any of the primarchs marrying, even far less knew one actually had.

Lorgar had defied odds it seems, though it only seemed to cripple him in the end.

"The Emperor has taken her to Terra until Lorgar corrects his legion's path, it seems." Thiel looks towards the custodes fleet as it rises up into the sky and departs, leaving the Ultramarines alone on this hot, sandy planet.

"And do you think that's a good idea?" Guilliman ponders the man's question for a bit longer than he thought he would.

Would it actually motivate Lorgar to abandon all of this nonsense? To return to the Crusade rather than fooling around with the worship of gods and deities? Guilliman doesn't quite know. He doesn't know Lorgar well enough to have the answer.

"I guess we will see."

Guilliman swears he hears screaming in the distance, but chocks it up to the whipping of the wind against crumbling stone and turns to leave.

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

title: stranger than a stranger

pairing: pre-boston raider!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 4964

summary:

When Joel sees you searching for supplies in an old school, he removes your companion from the equation and convinces you that you need to join him for your survival.

author's note: a gift for @dreamingofdaddydin, fellow depraved slut, who sent in an ask that i completely changed. please heed the warnings on this one, as there are dark and potentially triggering elements. if you do decide to read and you enjoy, please consider reblogging or commenting!

content warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), undefined age gap, no use of y/n, post-outbreak/pre-boston QZ, dark!joel miller, perv!joel miller, survival as coercion/manipulation, dub/non-con somnophilia (the actions are not agreed upon before hand but reader is receptive once waking), sex as a thank you, voyeurism, masturbation, canon typical violence (mentions guns, knives, blood), handjobs, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, honey), cum eating, huddling for warmth but manipulative, wet dreams, thigh fucking, fingering, unprotected p in v. please let me know if any are missing!

You never expected to live through an apocalypse. In fact, before the cordyceps outbreak, you and your boyfriend had watched Night of the Living Dead and you joked that if the time ever came, just throw you to the zombies or demons or whatever hell unleashed.

Yet here you are, ten years post-outbreak and the collapse of one QZ that you and your boyfriend had been living in, climbing through a destroyed school building, picking your way through rubble as you follow Liam in his search for more supplies.

“The stores around here are probably picked clean, but a lot of people don’t think about checking schools. They’ve got plenty of non-perishables in the cafeteria. Remember? We ate like shit growing up,” Liam explains. He shines a flashlight down a hall. “Well, I guess we ate better than we do now.”

“I miss chicken nuggets,” you lament. He chuckles. 

“I could definitely use a cheeseburger,” Liam replies. 

You continue moving quietly through the school, the cement and linoleum cracked by overgrowth and the abandoned classrooms of overturned desks making you feel like you’re in a whole different world and not just in an elementary school in Massachusetts. 

“You got your knife and gun, right?” Liam asks quietly. You nod, pulling the gun from the waist of your jeans and showing it to him. “Good, keep it handy. You know those fuckers are always hiding around buildings like this.”

You and Liam had just started dating when the outbreak occurred, and you managed to stick together for the last ten years. He’s taught you a lot about survival - shooting a gun, starting a fire, and finding edible vegetation in the woods, among other skills. Despite your original desire to be spared from an apocalypse, you’ve somehow managed to persevere.

“Remember to aim for the head,” Liam says.

You roll your eyes. “No, I figured I’d aim for a foot. Of course I’m aiming for the head.”

“Alright, smart ass. You go down that hall and see what you can find.” He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m gonna look for the cafeteria. Meet me back here.”

With another nod, you part ways. 

You both miss the figure lurking in the shadows.

________

Joel watches you disappear around a corner before his attention returns to your companion. The man walks quickly in the opposite direction, holding only a flashlight in his hands. Joel clocks a holster on his hip that must hold a gun or a knife. The man looks like the type to know how to fight, weapons or not.

Too bad Joel is the predator here.

He leaves the dark shadow he’d hidden himself in, following the man with quick, quiet steps. The other man seems alert, but not alert enough to notice Joel following him.

Good.

Joel watches the man draw a gun from the holster, holding it in front of him as he kicks open a set of double doors, sweeping his flashlight and gun into the darkness beyond. Joel slips through the door before it shuts, darkness surrounding him as he lets his eyes adjust.

It looks like a gymnasium, cracked hardwood basketball flooring with faded court lines illuminated in the small flashlight beam of the man, who continues across the court and out another set of double doors.

He follows him back out to a hallway, brightly lit thanks to a hole in the ceiling, crumbled plaster and cement littering the ground. He takes a few steps closer, stopping when he hears a clicking sound that sends a shiver down his spine. 

The man freezes, too, eyes wide, hands tightening on his gun. Joel slowly brings the shotgun slung over his back around to his front, taking it up in his hands.

The clicking grows louder, more insistent. It echoes down the hallway and Joel knows that the creature is aware of their presence. No matter how quiet you are, those fuckers know how to find you.

He aims his gun, finger poised on the trigger. Heavy footsteps approach from the end of the hall, punctuated by the clicking noise that makes his hair stand on end. The creature enters the hall, overgrowth of cordyceps blocking its eyes and features. It pauses, head turning with jerky motions as it seeks out its prey. He watches the other man shift his stance, trying to widen his legs, but his foot catches a rock, sending it sliding across the floor.

The creature’s head snaps at the sound and it ambles closer, faster. Joel takes aim, pulling the trigger and blowing its head across the room. The man turns in surprise.

“Damn, man. Thanks,” he says, taking a deep breath and giving Joel a smile of gratitude. He reaches a hand out as he says, “I’m Li—“

He pulls the trigger and the man collapses to the ground face first, blood rapidly pooling beneath his body. 

Joel approaches, crouching beside him. He opens the bag on his back, rifling through the contents for anything that might be of use. There’s a med kit, ammo for the handgun he’d been using, gloves, a jacket, and a hunting knife. He shoves all of it into his own bag before grabbing the gun beside the man’s body as he stands.

Joel slides the gun into his waistband before turning and heading back the way he came. He imagines the gunshots will have you rushing back to investigate.

Just like he wanted.

________

You hear two gunshots go off, freezing in your exploration of a classroom. You listen closely, ears straining for any sign of clicker activity due to the noise as you slowly draw your gun from your waistband. Hearing nothing in the aftermath of the gunshots, you race back towards the area where Liam had agreed to meet you, heart racing as your mind begs you to choose flight and not fight.

In your panic, you don’t notice the man in the hall until you’re colliding against him, his arms gripping your shoulders to steady you. 

“Who the fuck are you?” You ask, scrambling out of his hold and pointing your gun at him. He’s tall with broad shoulders, a flannel beneath a faded denim jacket stretching over his frame. He has tan skin and dark hair with brown eyes that look at you with concern. “Back the fuck up,” you shout.

The man takes a step back, holding his hands up. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

“I heard gunshots. Where’s Liam?”

“I came up on a guy fightin’ a clicker. He was in bad shape,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

There’s a buzzing in your ears as your brain catches up to his words. You blink, eyes burning with tears that you fight back.

“H-he’s dead?” You whisper.

“‘Fraid so.”

You drop to your hands and knees with the realization, gasping for a breath that won’t reach your lungs. There’s movement from the corner of your eye, the strange man taking a step closer, and you raise your gun once more. 

“Don’t,” you snap. “Come any closer and I’ll shoot.”

“Listen. I’m sorry about your friend. But if there’s one clicker, there’s bound to be more. You can come with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ll be fine on my own.” You keep the gun trained on him as you slowly stand on shaky legs. “I’m leaving now. Don’t fucking follow me.”

You only make it a few steps before he’s calling out after you. “There’s worse things out there than the infected. Girl like you won’t last long.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“It means,” he says, the tone of his voice grating your nerves, “that there are bad fuckin’ people out there, ones that’ll take advantage of a girl headin’ out on her own. Some who won’t give a shit that a gun is bein’ pointed at their heads if it means they die tryin’ to bring you down with ‘em. Is that really somethin’ you wanna go through right now?”

Your resolve waivers. He’s probably right. In the ten years you’ve been struggling to survive, you’ve always had Liam at your back. Even in the QZ, before it collapsed, he kept you going. You could survive out there when it came to skill, but would you make it far on your own when clickers move in packs and raiders run rampant?

“I…I guess I’ll come with you,” you say, lowering your weapon. You flick the safety on and the man smiles.

“The name’s Joel.”

________

It’s been a week since joining Joel. The two of you keep a steady pace in your travels, though there’s no real destination in mind. He’s been on his own for a while, he tells you, having split from his brother who had gone to join the Fireflies in their fight.

“Fuckin’ stupid if you ask me,” he grumbled after telling you that little bit of information. “They ain’t gonna change shit.”

You just nod along, wrapped up in your own thoughts. You can’t pinpoint it, but something about Joel makes you wary of him. He’s been nice enough, sure, but there’s something off about the way he looks at you.

You’ll catch the older man staring at your ass when you’re walking ahead of him, or see the way his eyes go dark when you’re on your knees starting a fire. His hands will linger on your hips a little longer than necessary when he’s helping you jump down from something, or he’ll watch a little too intently as your lips wrap around the mouth of your water bottle.

What’s worse is how it makes you feel hot all over when you shouldn’t feel anything, least of all attraction when you’ve just lost your boyfriend. 

It’s starting to get cold at night. The days are still tolerable, since you’re always on the move and the sun is shining, but once the sky goes dark, you struggle to stay warm. You layer your two jackets and even that’s still not enough as you lay shivering in your sleeping bag. You turn over until you’re facing where Joel has his bag set up, curling your legs closer to your chest and squeezing your eyes shut.

Past the sound of your teeth chattering, you hear the shift of fabric, the glide of skin on skin, a low groan. Your eyes snap open and as they adjust to the inky darkness, you can make out the vague shape of Joel on the ground. Another choked off moan rings in your ear, the sound of it making your blood go hot. You listen as his movements and breaths and sounds grow more frantic, the desperation they’re laced with making you rub your thighs together as subtly as you can. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Joel pants quietly. The air goes still, the sound of his hand moving over his cock slowing to a stop. You wonder where he’s finished. In his hand? On his belly? Your brain conjures an image of you licking the spend from his skin, salty taste of him on your tongue as you look up into his eyes and he groans.

You have to bite your lip to keep your sounds to yourself. You wiggle a hand between your legs, clamping your thighs around it tightly and rocking slightly. It’s not nearly enough and it’s so frustrating you want to scream.

Eventually, as the adrenaline seeps from your body, sleep takes its place, your eyes fluttering shut as darkness consumes you.

You dream of bitten off groans and curses in a voice that belongs to a stranger with dark hair and brown eyes.

________

Two weeks after joining the two of you encounter your first band of raiders.

You’re in a small town picking through a convenience store. There’s a surprising amount of things left on the shelves, including cans of food that you’re tossing into your backpack when the sound of a gun being cocked makes you freeze.

“Hey, pretty girl. Why don’t you put some of that back for the rest of us, yeah?” An unfamiliar voice says. You glance over your shoulder, a large man with a thick beard smiling at you. You turn slowly, hands raised and mind racing with your options. 

He’s blocking the exit. You could try to dart around him, but the gun trained at your head is a bit of a worry. Your own gun is in the waistband of your pants, pressing against your low back. Not much help to you like that. You should have been holding it the whole time.

“Hand over your fucking bag,” he says, the calm in his more alarming than if he were yelling at you. “Got me some food and a pretty little pet to keep, too.”

Your blood turns to ice and your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you swallow hard, bending down to grab your bag. 

A shot rings out, glass shattering and you shout, dropping lower to the ground. You open your eyes slowly, you gaze landing on the body of the man lying on the ground in a rapidly expanding pool of blood. You look up, eyes finding Joel’s beyond the shattered window of the convenience store as he lowers his gun.

A shout has Joel whirling, gun drawn as three men appear from an alley. He shoots, one of the men dropping. Grabbing your bag, you rush to the front of the store as another shot rings out, shattering the glass of the door. You drop to the ground, pressing your back to the wall beside the window and peeking out.

Joel slings his gun over his back, landing a kick to a man that rushes him, the stranger landing on his back. A second man points a gun at Joel.

“On your fuckin’ knees!” He barks. 

Panic courses through you, but you reach behind you, grabbing your gun. You switch the safety off, leaning from your hiding spot to take aim through the window at the man. Your hands shake as you take a breath in, like Liam taught you, pulling the trigger as you exhale. 

The shot lands in the man’s abdomen, making him stumble and drop his weapon. Joel stands, rushing for the man as he pulls a large knife from his hip, plunging the blade into the man’s chest. 

The man he kicked is getting to his hands and knees when Joel turns on him, knife held at his hip. A wicked grin spreads across his face before he plants his boot against the man’s ribs, knocking him onto his side. Joel shoves at him with his foot until the man is on his back and he stands over him, a foot on either side of his hips.

Joel raises the knife above his head before swinging it down into the man’s chest, holding it there for a moment before he twists it savagely and pulls it free. You stand there, equal parts horrified and something worse, eyes wide as you watch Joel wipe the blade against the man’s clothes to clean it.

“Get their guns, will ya?” Joel calls out. The sound of his voice makes you jump, your muscles finally spurring into action as you comply with his request. 

Later, as you settle in for the night in your respective sleeping bags, you hear the tell-tale sound of shifting fabric and bitten off moans. You stare up at the dark sky, pinpricks of starlight winking back at you, as you gather your courage. 

“Joel?” You murmur. The sounds stop abruptly, the only thing you can hear is his heavy breathing.

“Thought you were sleepin’,” he grunts. 

You turn over on your side, facing him. You can barely make him out in the dark, only his silhouette, but your heart beats faster all the same as you say, “I could…help.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, so long that you’ve got an apology on the tip of your tongue when you hear the zip of his sleeping bag being opened.

“Come help, then.”

________

Joel tries to contain his enthusiasm. Nights of coming into his own palm while he knows you’re listening, imagining your hand around his cock instead of his, and now his patience has finally paid off.

You’re crawling across the grass to join him in his sleeping bag, your body pressed to his in the tight space. He takes a shuddering breath, the feel of your heat alone almost enough to make him come. 

Your hand rests on his belly, tentatively sliding lower until your fingers brush against the hair at the base of his cock. He hisses as your cold hand grips him at the base, slowly sliding up to his leaking tip. Your thumb circles his slit, smearing a bead of precum around the sensitive head as he groans into the night.

“That’s it, baby,” Joel says. Your face is tucked against his neck, and he wishes you’d turn your face up, let him kiss you, but he has to be smart and only take what you’ll give so that one day you’ll offer more. “Tighter, just like that, fuck.”

Joel’s hips flex to chase your fist, the soft feel of your palm driving him wild. He moans, louder than he should be given the vulnerable position this puts you both in, but he doesn’t give a fuck. All he cares about is you.

“This a ‘thank you’, huh? For killin’ those guys?” Joel pants. Your head nods against his neck and the admission makes his head feel light and fuzzy. “Told ya you needed me, sweetheart. Needed someone to take care of you, right?”

You hum, squirming against him. Your lips graze his neck and that’s the final nail in his coffin, his cock pulsing in your hand as he comes harder than he has in years. He can’t help but whine a little when you let go, already missing the warmth and the softness of it.

“Clean it up for me, baby,” Joel says. You bring your hand up, nothing but a dark shape against darker air, and he hears you licking at the cum coating your fingers. “That taste good?”

“Mhm,” you hum. When you’re done, you roll away from him, crawling back over to your sleeping bag and zipping yourself inside. 

With a sigh, Joel shimmies his jeans back up his thighs before turning on his side, letting the sounds of the night lull him to sleep.

________

You’ve been with Joel for a month when winter really starts to settle in and you’re forced to keep moving in your travels until you’ve found abandoned buildings to sleep in to stay out of the harsh winter air. While the snow might not reach you inside, the cold certainly does. 

It’s one such night that Joel suggests sharing body heat.

“It’s the best thing we can do to keep warm,” he explains. “Can’t keep a fire goin’ inside. Too dangerous.”

You swallow nervously. He’s zipping together your sleeping bags so that you can fit beside each other, laying it on the ground of the old stockroom you’ve barricaded yourselves in for the night, a little camping lamp on a metal shelf providing a little light.

Joel kneels to untie his boots, removing one then the other and setting them aside. He stands, sliding his arms free of his jacket and setting it on the shelf. When he starts to unbutton his flannel, your blood rushes in your ears.

“W-what are you doing?” You ask. He pauses, hands on his buttons.

“Gettin’ undressed. Can’t share body heat with clothes in the way.” 

You stand there frozen as he continues to strip, t-shirt and jeans and boxers all joining his growing pile of clothes until he’s naked in front of you and you’re struggling to keep your eyes on his face with so much muscle and skin on display. He slides into the sleeping bag, staring up at you expectantly.

“You gonna stand there all night?” He asks, lips tilted in a little smirk. “Come on. We’ve come a long way today and you gotta be tired.”

You’re exhausted, really, the kind of tired that settles into your bones and makes your limbs heavy. Slowly, you follow the same steps as he did to undress, starting with your shoes. It doesn’t escape your notice that he’s watching you with dark eyes the entire time, until you’re down to your underwear. 

“Those, too,” Joel says. 

“Why?”

“I don’t make the rules, sweetheart, I just follow ‘em. Skin to skin is the only way this’ll work.”

Reluctantly, you reach behind your back to unclip your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Your nipples are tight in the cold room and you grit your teeth against their chattering as you quickly tug your panties down your legs and add them to your pile of clothing.

You slip into the sleeping bag beside Joel, the heat of his body immediately making you feel warm all over. You zip up the sleeping bag, cocooning your bodies in the insulation. Joel turns on his side, sliding his muscular around your tummy and tugging you closer. The hard length of his cock presses to your thigh and you lie perfectly still, afraid to move.

“Go to sleep,” he grunts. You close your eyes, the tension slowly leaving your muscles as you listen to his deep breathing in the dark room. 

Somewhere between the warmth of his body and the feel of his breath against your cheek, sleep finds you.

________

Sometime in the night, you’ve turned on your side, your ass pressed snugly against Joel’s hips with his cock slipped between your cheeks. He wakes to the feel of you grinding against his length and his arm tightens around your middle as he groans.

“Joel,” you murmur. He lifts his head to see if you’re awake, but your eyes are shut, brows pinched together. Your hips move against him again and he bites into his lower lip to keep his sounds contained, not wanting to wake you and ruin this.

You murmur his name again and his head drops back to the arm he’d been using as a pillow. He gives a little experimental thrust of his hips and you moan, the sound making his cock jump against you. 

With careful movements, he lifts your top leg, laying it over his hip. He lets his hand drift lower, gliding over your tummy until he’s cupping your pussy gently. His fingers slide through your wetness, catching on your swollen clit and making your hips jerk.

Joel worries that you’re awake, but you’re not scrambling from his grip yet. He circles his fingers slowly, so slowly, your hips moving against him and your breathing coming more quickly. You let out little whimpers and whines that Joel wants to commit to memory, the sound of them sure to plague him any time he closes his eyes.

You’re growing wetter and Joel grows bolder, slipping his middle finger into your tight entrance, not able to hold back his moan of appreciation over how your cunt flutters around the digit as he slowly pumps it inside of you. 

Another whimper of his name from your lips has his sanity fraying further, his hand moving faster against you, damn the consequences of you waking up to him playing with your pussy. Your muscles go tight against him with your release before going limp, your breath stuttering. He lifts his head once more to check if you’re asleep, surprised to find your face lax with bliss, eyes still closed as your breathing slows to normal.

Joel withdraws his hand, using it to grip his cock, sliding your juices over his length. He angles himself to where his cock is pressed up against your lips before gently lowering your leg. He’s surrounded by warmth, your pussy and thighs cradling him perfectly. 

He thrusts his hips, his cock gliding through your wetness with ease. He loses himself to the slick glide, the tip of his cock catching against your swollen clit with each thrust. His fingers dig into the meat of your hip for leverage, pulling you back towards him as he groans against your shoulder.

Your muscles go stiff against him and he freezes as you whisper, “Joel?”

His name is a question this time and he knows he’s been caught. 

“It can be another ‘thank you’, yeah? For keepin’ you warm?” He asks, dragging his nose across your bare shoulder. “Could feel so good for us both,” he whispers, thrusting against your clit and reveling in the shaky moan you give him in return.

“O-okay,” you stutter. Joel presses a kiss to your shoulder in gratitude as he returns to the rhythm he’d set before you woke. He slides an arm over your middle, hand finding your breast and gripping it forcefully as you moan.

“That feel good, baby?” He asks. You nod, whining and squirming against him now. “Know what would feel better?”

“W-what?” 

He draws back, positioning the tip of his cock against your hole. Your breath catches as he slides inside the slightest amount. Just the tip.

“Would feel so good, right? Fillin’ you up, stretchin’ you,” he whispers. “You could keep me warm just like I’ve been keepin’ you warm all night.” You clench around him and he moans, hips flexing and sliding him deeper into you as you gasp. “So goddamn wet and tight.”

Joel slides the last bit deeper, until his hips are flush to your ass. You’re panting, cunt fluttering around him as you adjust, and he feels drunk on the feel of it, on the feel of you. He pulls out part way before sliding back in with a harsh thrust, the start of a punishing rhythm that has you chanting his name.

The slick slide of you over his cock feels like heaven, but he wants more, wants you cock drunk and earning your pleasure. You are supposed to be thanking him, after all.

He pulls out, lying on his back. “Get up here, sweetheart. It’s time to do your part.”

You turn until you’re facing him, and Joel gets impatient, grabbing at you until he can haul you into his lap, your slick, swollen pussy gliding over his cock. He groans, reaching between your bodies to hold himself steady, notching the thick head at your entrance.

“Take it, baby, come on,” he groans. You rock back until his cock is buried in your cunt, your knees pressing tight against his hips as you whine.

“S’deep,” you slur, rocking yourself over him. 

“Feels good though, doesn’t it? So fuckin’ deep in you,” he growls. Your chest is pressed to his, your lips so close he takes his chance, slotting his mouth against yours. 

You kiss him back, messy and desperate, moaning against his lips as you take his cock like you were made for it. And maybe you were. Why else would he have been in the right place at the right time, getting the chance to keep you all for himself?

You sit up further, hands planted on his chest as you ride him with fervor. Your blunt fingernails dig into his skin and make him groan, hips punching up into you as you rock back. When you moan desperately, he does it again, and again, until you’re letting out a choked little sob that makes his cock pulse inside of you.

“Come for me, honey, wanna feel this pretty pussy choke my cock,” Joel demands. He can feel your walls flutter around him, your noises growing desperate. He brings a hand to your clit, thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves until you tighten around him, squeezing his cock as you come undone with a shout.

You collapse forward and Joel wraps his arms around your low back, holding you steady as he plants his feet and pounds his cock into you with harsh thrusts, chasing his release. Your teeth dig into the sensitive skin of his neck and the sharp sting sends him over the edge. He pulls out at the last moment, his cum splashing between your bodies in thick spurts. 

You lie on top of him, catching your breath. Sweat grows sticky on Joel’s skin as the cool air settles around them, your back erupting in goosebumps as you shiver. He maneuvers your bodies until you’re cradled against him again.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

When you nestle closer, body lax against his, he smiles in triumph.

_______

You wake before Joel the next morning, body sticky with the mess from the night. You cringe, wiggling away from Joel’s hold. You find your discarded shirt and water bottle, intending to soak the fabric to wipe yourself clean, only to find your bottle is empty.

You locate Joel’s backpack, knowing he keeps his water bottle in there. You dig through the contents, hand bumping against the familiar bulk of a handgun. Your brow furrows. You haven’t seen Joel use a handgun. He uses the shotgun on his back, the other weapons you’d collected from the raiders stored in your bag.

You pull the weapon free and inspect it. You know this gun. It’s the same gun you’d learn to shoot with, the first one Liam found in the aftermath of the outbreak. Your blood turns to ice. 

Joel said he’d seen Liam get attacked by a clicker. If that’s the case, when did he get Liam’s gun?

The sound of Joel moving in the sleeping bag has you shoving the gun back into his bag and grabbing the water bottle you’d gone in search of in the first place. 

You’ll have to worry about your discovery some other day.

Want more Joel Miller? Check out the masterlist

[anjelicawrites]

NSFW-ish. +18 only please.

Imagine King Aemond First of His name in love with you. He wants you, desires you, you try not to reciprocate: he has committed terrible crimes, he's a tyrant, his faction won over yours, choose your own reason to ask yourself “how could you love him?” He burns for you, he needs you, who cares about the rest? The Realm has been destroyed by the war, why are you denying yourself life, after so much death? He could kidnap you, marry you against your will and even force himself on you; but he is not his late brother, he would never do such a thing, he loves and respects you too much to hurt you this way.

His eye rakes down your form, he knows you want him by the way your body reacts to his proximity: how your pupils dilate, your voice trembles a little, your hands shake. He can see it all, he can smell how ready you are for him, he can imagine how you'd taste on his tongue and it's torment not to touch you, his cock painfully erect against the leather of his breeches is the reminder of his own feelings for you. He wants to make love to you until you are both too tired to function, until it hurts to continue, until you have made him bleed with your fingers down his back, until all he can taste and smell is you. He will cover you in gold, if so you desire, but please don't deny yourself any longer, he knows you are hurting the same way he does. He can marry you on the spot, the long ceremony be damned and carry you to your marital chambers and show you how deep his love burns for you.

Slowly, he stands up from the Iron Throne and advances towards you. You try to stay still, not to show how him he makes you feel; what in hypocrite you are. Your nights are plagued by him, his hands big and strong on your body, those luscious lips on yours, your legs curled around his hips to keep him within you, his long hair curtaining your desperate kisses. He's right in front of you now, you can feel the heath of his skin through the distance and the layers of clothes and you know his touch would burn your skin like fire. You almost wish he would force himself on you, thus granting you what you desire, without losing your self-respect; he will not, though. He wants that you willingly surrender yourself to him; you know he will be kind with you, taking your virginity slowly and gently, soft words of encouragement in your ear as he pushes inside of you until the pleasure robs you of your sanity. You shouldn't want his burning touch to tarnish your skin, to pillage your body until nothing is left but your nerves singing with pleasure. You do though and every night your fingers torment you until can’t take it anymore and his name his on your lips like a prayer.

You cannot stand looking into his eye, the naked need and love there, the darkness of desire; you have to keep eye contact, though, he mustn't know how his presence dominates your every thought. You are weak and your purpose crumbles with every interaction you have, with every heated gaze he lavishes your body with you are one step closer to say yes. You shouldn't, shouldn't, shouldn't! You want him, you need him. You are a whore for desiring him the way you do.

His voice breaks your jumbled thoughts, deep and soft in your ears as goosebumps appear on your skin.

“I ask for so little. Just fear me. Love me. Do as I ask, and I shall be your slave”.

What are you going to respond?

Aemond’s taglist: @phantoms-main-blog

[howlsofbloodhounds]

hii so as wick said you are the killer guy. ive learned a lot abt him through you i think, and if i make or reblog smthn abt him and then *you* reblog it im like "!! i did him right i got the character right!!"

so as such ive gotta ask. ink and killer. both are aware of someone watching them, making choices for them to further the story as they please. the creators/players. but both have different opinions of them. i wanna know what you think would be like- differences/similarities between their views. would they get along on this subject, would they not (i dont think they would tbh), etc.

im sorry if this isn't very coherent im still asleep 😭😭

Hiii! 👋 I always enjoy reading or seeing anything you make about killer, id reblog and like every single one.

And I agree with you that this is a subject that ink and killer wouldn’t really agree upon, simply because their experiences with the creators/players are very different.

Other than the obvious ones, where Ink has a positive outlook on creators and Killer doesn’t really, Ink also needs creators to stay alive and healthy. And if I remember correctly, Ink was not made by creators specifically to protect AUs. That’s a choice he made on his own, to not only ensure his own survival, but to have a purpose and feel like his life has meaning.

Ink had some agency in a way, and was happy to do something as grand as protecting entire universes. No one’s gonna be able to really stop him if he decides to shrug his shoulders and retire from protecting AUs one day, no one but himself really.

Meanwhile, Killer’s Determination would not allow him to do that so easily. Just look at Stage 4.

Killer did not have any real agency or a say—Sans did not agree to anything like gaining Determination or ‘fusing’ souls—and he was “created” and cultivated for specific purposes; to kill, to entertain, to be a partner, to do a Genocide. To destroy timelines and worlds in a way. If you interpret the Angel in the prophecy to be the Player, it can be said that Killer was made and cultivated for the purpose of being our avatar.

He enacts our will. We want him to kill? Do a Genocide? We want to be the Angel of Death and liberate the Underground by emptying it completely? He is one of our means to do that.

We want to complete the game, try every single avenue and maybe even create our own paths, regardless of how it actually affects the structure of the world/game? He’s our means to do what we normally couldn’t. To do something new.

Because we aren’t doing it. He is, by following our commands. Proceed.

Killer is our right hand, Frisk is the left, and Chara is the feeling we have when we level up, when we gain more stats; they guide and support us on our way eventually, as they do for Killer too; until Killer decides one day that he no longer needs them and needs something new. They are our means of interacting with the world.

Which means Killer could also have the dual purpose of being Chara’s partner, meant to accompany them along on their journey. Perhaps Sans was just the Player’s favorite character, or we just wanted something new. And Chara wanted a partner, a friend, a companion.

I’m sure there’s an ending out there where Killer never turns on Chara and the two of them find a way to leave their timeline to continue on elsewhere. Perhaps by Erasing it and moving on to the next world, as Chara says at the end of the canon Genocide route.

Only we don’t have complete control over Killer, because he is not supposed to be our Avatar. Killer is not supposed to exist, yet he does because we wanted him to. The whole reason Killer’s Stage 2 exist in the state that it does is because it represents Sans fighting back against the Determination SOUL.

Because Sans never wanted this. Ever. We just made him think he did. Something New was Snowgrave before Snowgrave.

We took him and shattered him completely and arranged his parts in a way that suited our desires and built him back up in our preferred image before freezing him in that state. And we did it by first taking everything from him, including himself.

Ink doesn’t remember anything after he tore up his soul, and even if he did, why would he chose anything differently? He and his universe were nothing but incomplete, rough sketches that were abandoned.

Ink came from nothing, and now has everything.

Ink finds purpose with the Creators and admires their works, seeks to protect their AUs and their scripts from anything he perceives as an anomaly.

Killer has a purpose for existing. He just wishes he didn’t. I’m sure that, at his lowest points, Killer would give anything to go back to being nothing.

( @alyimoss ).

(Also maybe an odd opinion but I honestly feel that this particular part of Something New is the reason why it would’ve worked a bit better in a game format rather than a comic.)

(And you know. I can see a little scene where, like..Ink says something about how the Player prefers “Killer” over “Sans” now. So Killer must feel very loved by us.

And of course, as is often the case with Killer, his emotional investment and reactions about/towards the Player during conversations with people like Ink would differ based on what Stage he is in.

Stage 2 is unlikely to be able to feel much intense emotions or opinions about us, and is therefore is able to approach this type of topic from a more detached, apathetic lens. A sense of resigned acceptance, even. He exists because we want to play, so he will put on a show.

I’m sure he’d have strong feelings about it in all the other Stages, but it’s not like Stages 3 and 4 are exactly capable of sitting down and having clear minded full conversations about it.

That’s more Stage 1’s thing, with all the emotional baggage and all. Because it’s not like knowing why really changes anything for him; he still did it, it was his hands. He does have a tendency to hurt himself for us, as Color has said.)

[tytarax]

Hi :”D

Now I'm thinking about a reader (sorry, as an introvert with social communication problems, I'm horrified, as I worked in a store for so long) who used to work in a service industry like a grocery store (taking «mental damage», fatigue, stress, sensory overload from working with people) and Zamasu (any, regular or yandere)

And all their communication literal:

Reader: your desire to destroy humans by genocide of the galaxy is disgusting

Zamasu: you…..

Reader: but where were you before when I was working and socializing with people? I was ready to beat them all up right in the workplace

Zamasu: …wait what….

Hey there!

Oh don't worry, I get you

This idea is gooood

Working in the service industry was more than just a job; it was a constant battle with fatigue, stress, and sensory overload. Sooo.... when Zamasu meets Y/N... let's just say that he didn't expect that.

The world had changed in a flash, the once bustling cities now lay in ruins, silent and empty. Zamasu's wrath had wiped out humanity, leaving only a handful of survivors scattered across the world. One such survivor, Y/N, navigated the desolate streets, scavenging for supplies and avoiding any signs of danger.

Y/N, who had once worked in the service industry, found an odd sense of peace in the silence. The constant noise, the endless interactions, the forced smiles, and the rude customers were all memories of a past life, now replaced by a haunting tranquility. Yet, there was a bitterness that lingered, a frustration that had never quite left.

As Y/N rummaged through an abandoned grocery store, the sound of footsteps echoed through the empty aisles. She tensed, gripping a makeshift weapon tightly in her hand. Turning a corner, she came face to face with none other than Zamasu, the architect of humanity's destruction.

His gaze was cold and unyielding, but Y/N met it with a mixture of defiance and curiosity.

"Your desire to destroy humans by genocide of the galaxy is disgusting," Y/N stated flatly, her voice echoing in the empty store.

Zamasu raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting such a direct confrontation.

"But where were you before," Y/N continued, cutting him off, "when I was working and socializing with people? I was ready to beat them all up right here."

Zamasu blinked, clearly taken aback. "…wait, what?"

Y/N let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. "You think you're so righteous, wiping out humanity for their sins. But you missed the everyday struggles, the little wars we fought just to get through a day. The constant noise, the entitled customers, the sensory overload—do you have any idea what that does to a person?"

Zamasu stared at her, his expression shifting from confusion to a strange form of curiosity. "You hated them as well?"

"It's not that simple," Y/N replied, her grip on the weapon relaxing slightly. "I hated the way people treated each other, the way they treated me. But I didn't want them dead. I just wanted it to stop. I wanted a break."

Zamasu stepped closer, his gaze intense. "And now, do you find peace in this silence?"

Y/N looked around the empty store, the broken shelves, and the dust-covered floors. "Peace? Maybe. But it's lonely. And it's not the solution you think it is. Killing everyone didn't solve anything; it just created a new problem."

Zamasu's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"You talk about justice and purity, but you don't understand the complexities of human nature," Y/N said, meeting his gaze. "People can be terrible, but they can also be kind. They can learn, change, and grow. You took that chance away from them. And for what? To prove a point?"

For a moment, Zamasu seemed to ponder her words. The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken thoughts.

"You are an interesting mortal," he finally said, his tone less harsh. "Perhaps there is more to your kind than I realized."

Y/N shrugged, turning back to the shelves. "Maybe. But it's too late for that now, isn't it?"

Zamasu didn't respond, watching as Y/N continued her search for supplies. In the quiet of the aftermath, two unlikely survivors stood together, each grappling with the weight of their own existence.

And for the first time, Zamasu began to question if all the mortals were the same

Masterpost

DBS Masterlist

[prncssguya]

episodes 29&30 thoughts

i’m so glad fei jie is ok and we finally got shadow’s identity! (he’s the younger brother of some guy i don’t remember). but i was just complaining how we don’t see enough martial arts fan xian and then their fight happened. the choreography was amazing! fan xian probably wouldn’t have lost if his internal energy wasn’t so chaotic

when chen ping ping was talking about how grudges simmer and grow the hate inside you, he was definitely talking from experience. you can tell it kinda hurt CPP to hear fan xian accuse him of wanting to kill him (sir what do you expect haha i love their interactions). he’ll manipulate and lie to him but killing him is crossing the line! i think he might also be frustrated that FX isn’t recognizing the danger of the emperor (he keeps reminding him to be cautious, no one can guess the thoughts of the emperor). or perhaps fan xian has come to realize there is no “figuring out” the emperor, he is just going to deal with situations as they come.

the emperor continues to amaze and terrify me. between his secrets and the way he thinks up these incredibly convoluted plans, mei chang su would be impressed. so from my understanding, there were two planned assassinations. CPP was the architect of shadow (under the emperor’s orders? idk i was confused on that part. or did CPP really want to kill?) and the other planned by the emperor himself to test fan xian and other princes of their loyalty while at the same time eliminating political nuisances. he’s also hiding how powerful he is (did you catch the prince’s reactions? they don’t know their father at all lol). i’m more concerned about his plans for fan xian. did he actually try save his life out of a selfless desire to save his son or was it for a more pragmatic purpose like he doesn’t want to lose his connection to the divine temple and any other talents fan xian may have inherited from his mother? both could be true, these are complex characters and i love that.

i liked the scene where the doctor is telling the emperor about fan xian’s condition. with the emotional music in the background and the crescendo when the emperor decides he will try to save FX. i felt for a moment he may not be a complete monster (for a moment). good thing fan xian had another solution.

since fan xian’s meridians are destroyed and the only one who knows how to restore them is ku he, i wonder if that will be explored in s3. in one of the earlier previews, it shows fan xian on a ship with lin wan’er staying behind idk idk i’m excited

[pedrostylez]

500 Followers Reading Recommendation List

Hi there! Happy Saturday!

I just wanted to say thank you to the 500 people that are following me. I started this account back in March/April to have fun, start writing again (I was in the thick of it with One Direction fanfiction from 2012-2017 and took a massive break from that... Iykyk) and to make friends. I’ve connected with so many of you, and I love seeing us all thirsting on the feed, and just being a community? Idk if that’s cheesy, but there are plenty of things that could be improved with how this fanbase operates but this is my favorite part.

I felt like the best way to celebrate and to have fun is to bring attention to other people’s writing that I enjoy. Frothing at the mouth, or maybe just kicking my feet, whatever. I’ve been stockpiling these since the beginning (mainly so I can keep track because I will forget what I’m reading through and I don’t want to miss anything) and want to just highlight as many people as I can. 

I hope you all can give these guys some love too. If any of these are not your cup of tea and you want to make comments or say something to one of these authors I highly encourage you to read this announcement I made a while ago. I stand by this and encourage others to do the same.

I tried to not repeat an author with a character, but I will say that each of these lovely people writes for multiple characters (not always in the Pedro character universe either) and I have and continue to read from their whole masterlist. 

This is in no way the whole ongoing list that I keep for myself to find something that I enjoy, and I am positive I have missed some amazing people. I encourage everyone to reblog and interact with authors as you find things you like, “popular” or not, so as to keep us all as what I described above-a community.

Most of these recommendations are smut, which is indicated with *. If there is no *, it either has none or it does not at the time of posting this. Proceed with caution. 🙂

(If I get anyone’s name or pronouns wrong, please let me know so I can fix it. I tried to do my due diligence, however, I am prone to mistype so a quick message will get it changed!)

Joel Miller

@softlyspector-Honeyed

Becca’s story Honeyed is everything my fluffy heart desires. It is so soft, and I can feel my heart ache when I read it (I mean this in a good way and idk how else to describe it.) Ellie and Sarah’s dynamic is also so interesting, and I love how she writes the different connections between them all. Becca’s descriptions and ability to immerse you into the story is top notch. 

@jrrmint- Dad’s Best Friend (Series)*

JJ’s series absolutely destroyed me, in the best way possible. The way he expresses his feelings is so very Joel, but also so very “every man I’ve ever interacted with”, and the way he is so protective of reader…oh my lord. Just brilliant. JJ is here to kill it, every fucking time. 

@darkroastjoel- A Safe Haven (series)*

Vee is extremely talented, even when she thinks otherwise. (Vee I love you so much omg). So much effort and care is put into what she writes, and I am always sitting at the edge of my seat. A Safe Haven is angsty, makes my heart flutter, and Joel is portrayed so well. Hiding a relationship while having issues in Peach���s home to help the community? Real-life anxiety. Vee’s Ellie is also one of my favorites and gives comedic relief when necessary (but also a wakeup call to Peach a lot of the time). Love love love.

@hier--soir-Back to Texas

Jessie you probably thought I was going to put your professor joel series here, and while that is so fucking good (screeching into a pillow so my husband doesn’t hear, good), this specific piece you wrote? Emotional damage. Tears, in my eyes, sniffling and trying to keep it together. It really just calls upon my daddy issues to read Joel so distraught and loving and anxious about visiting his home where he last saw Sarah. Ugh. Love you. 

@joelscruff- One Thing I’m Missing (series)*

Cat’s ability to suck you into the world she has created is insane. I highly recommend all of the things she writes, but some sweetness mixed with horniness always makes me want to just pass away. Accidentally falling asleep together? And now you BOTH can’t stop? Bye. So deliciously heart-wrenching. 

@atinylittlepain-Hungry Hearts (Series) *

Dear god this series has me crying, covering my face in embarrassment, drooling, and so much more. Summer love wrapped up with childhood crushes and bouncing back and forth between past and present? Thinking you know what’s best for the person you love and hurting them in the process? The flow of how Ginny writes keeps me on the hook no matter what she’s writing, and this is no different. I am absolutely able to lose myself in her writing and just be fully immersed, and I so so SO appreciate it.

@dev1lm4n-Porn Star Joel (series)*

Ann I swear to you, you’re the reason I am now obsessed with this “porn star” trope, specifically for Joel Miller. Joel having a secretive side job to make sure he keeps his family above water, but suddenly not able to think about anything other than reader, an exchange student living in his house? So fucking good. Sink your teeth in and just indulge. 

Frankie Morales

@pedropascalsx- Relief*

This had my gut in knots reading it. I have such a soft spot for Frankie as a character, and I remember the first time I read through this one-shot I gasped out loud at how mean you had written him. (This is a good thing, trust me). The smut is top shelf, mesmerizing.  Cristina has some of the best writing around with detail that is chef’s kiss. 

@peterhollandkait-Everthing I Know Leads Me Back to You

This is another series that I had first read when I was thinking about restarting my page, and Kait does not disappoint. The angst and heartbreak for sweet baby Frankie who is having issues is out of this world.

@javiscigarette-Just Focus on My Love*

Cami has this way about how she writes that I just consume so quickly and I don’t think I can ever stop. This one-shot called to me and calls me out at the same time for how often I will just play video games for hours. And the idea of Frankie? Coming to try and distract me? Yes please.

Javier Peña

@pascalsbby-Little Bunny*

Man, I just love Javier Peña. Whether he’s snarky and is a slut or is secretly really sweet. This one doesn’t disappoint either, with Kat having the ability to just get Javier to bring you home and on your knees…

@lokischocolatefountain -Salvation*

Married Javi and his struggles is the most insane way to get me hooked on him, but lokischocolatefountain did that. They have a whole “married javi” section of their masterlist that I find myself coming back to often!

@devilmademewriteit-Salvatore (series)*

When I was first reapproaching tumblr as a platform to write on, I came across Em’s writing. I was in the middle of watching Narcos, and it called out to me like a siren song, and I wasn’t able to stop reading it. I love a sassy Javi who is really just basically in love with you and trying to hide it, mixed in with some amazing smut. Absolutely brilliant Em!

@swiftispunk- Let Me and Use Me*

Hannah’s ability to call upon my niche needs at the moment freaks me out sometimes, because giiiirrrlllll. When I first read Let Me and the follow up Use Me, I melted into a puddle and had to be mopped up like snow being kicked off boots next to a wood stove. I will never ever EVER be over Javi P, and this two parter is reread OF-TEN. The idea that a man can read me so well, and just knows what I need? Yes please. 

Din Dijarin

@frannyzooey-Take Me To Church (Series) *

Kelli has an extensive masterlist that I have gone through a couple times (or more, ahem). Her Take Me to Church series is what made me interested in Din as a character, since I had never really watched the Star Wars saga. I have a soft spot for western AU’s that can’t be helped, so that just pushed me along as well. Kelli’s writing is always so fucking satisfying-good soup.  

@whatsnewalycat- Passenger (series) 

Aly has quite a few series that I am reading constantly. Again, never really had been interested in the Star Wars series (sue me, people) but her portrayal of Din as a truck driver and bounty hunter is so heavenly. I am typically under the covers with all the lights off reading her stuff because I get so excited and so honed in that I haven’t realized I’ve basically burrowed into my bed. 

@no-droids- Rough Day (series) *

Originally found on AO3, and I sure do loveeeeeeeee it. The wait is worth it, and the smut is spot on. I love the character growth that is shown in this series, and while I haven’t ever spoken with no-droids, I know they are insanely talented. An amazing read. 

Agent Whiskey/Jack Daniels

@fuckyeahdindjarin-Palomino (series) *

Cee doesn’t need a whole introduction but IMMA GIVE HER ONE. The amount of effort, and time and love she puts into her writing is shown when you’re reading on your phone, eyes barely open at 3 in the morning, telling yourself you’ll go to sleep after this next paragraph. And then of course, you don’t because something juicy is happening or you want to see how Jack is going to look lovingly at Darlin’ and you just stay up until you complete the chapter. Cee has some amazing amazing AMAZING series, and this is just one of them! 

@psychedelic-ink-Move Me, Baby *

Sil, if you don’t already know what you do to me, then here it is. You literally destroy me. This three-part series is as delectable as they come, being angsty and fluffy but also smut city babyyyyy. Sil is extremely talented and often has me questioning if I have a new kink or what exactly my deal is. 

Ezra (Prospect)

@the-ginger-hedge-witch- Adversity Western AU (Series)*

Ren. I stg. The ideas that you have send me into orbit. This is both Frankie and Ezra, but I am putting it under Ezra because the relationship between reader and Ezra is what I tend to focus on when I am reading this. Frankie’s relationship is also fascinating (and Ezra and Frankie together is extremely hot) but Ezra is written in this way that I just know is him exactly. She completely captured what Ezra’s cadence was (in my head at least) and I am infatuated with it.  

@ezrasversion-Heat*

Rue…my dear god. “Don’t stop on my account… unless of course you’d be more acquiescent to the idea of my assistance.” Like really?! I read this after I watched prospect for the first time and just about keeled over. How you captured how Ezra speaks was so spot on with the movie. So so good!

[chireikiden]

I get the feeling Detective Satori is gonna end on a sour note regardless of who wins. Either Reimu exterminates Mizuchi and her ancestors' crimes are swept under the rug, or Mizuchi "saves humanity from the youkai" or something like that by basically continuing her rampage indefinitely.

Perhaps a "banquet at the shrine" ending would be the best outcome?

While her claim that she didn't really expect to succeed and was just causing a mess to vent some steam somewhat undermines the tension of the manga thus far, that tension was always kind of a weird point, so I consider this a net positive. It brings her more in line with a not-completely-delusional Touhou character and means that in the end, she and Reimu may both be decently content if they just get some catharsis out of it.

I'm not sure what option there is for the Hakurei Shrine's history to not be swept under the rug: it can be revealed to the reader and a select few characters, and I sure freaking hope it will, but it's not like Gensokyo was ever going to be destroyed or really reformed, so the most she's really gonna get is acknowledgment and maybe some sympathy. And it seems like she's already getting both from Yuugi, so, halfway there.

I don't know if Reimu herself can manage to be openly or even quietly sympathetic, or even tolerant; though there is an alternative reading of the previous chapter that she's going after Mizuchi not only because "it's personal", but because she feels some need to address things. Satori also makes it sound like she was just reverse-psyching Reimu to go after Mizuchi, which is kind of tired to be honest, but makes you wonder whether her desired outcome is to just get this over with or if she also has some sympathy for Mimi and wants to force the Reimu-Mimi confrontation or something. Wouldn't gel with everything thus far, I'm sure, but what does, really?

Regardless, in that sense, I think the reveals and interactions in this chapter made a "happy ending" far more likely than it ever was. I'm also glad to see her having more (or any) interactions with people "as herself", as connections like that are probably her best hope to survive in the fandom for any time after this manga ends.

[itsmaferart]

Heyyyy!!....Do you think it is true that Nightfall is a better match for Twilight? … Some people think that she has had more interactions than with Yor.…you know… in the last chapter…

Ohhh! hi. thanks for the question!

I really don't know if it's the right thing to define Nightfall or Yor as the "best" or not, after all, a relationship is more complex and should be something that is naturally born….. Now, speaking of the last few chapters. I don't feel like the last arc is proof that Nightfall and Twilight's relationship is getting on track romantically, and whether or not they have more interactions with each other doesn't really make them a couple.

I don't think it's accurate to say that Nightfall's character has had any kind of evolution, in fact, I feel that from the tennis arc until now, we have been introduced to Nightfall's character and her understanding of love

Unlike elite spies like Wheeler or Twilight, who profess that spies should be beings devoid of feelings, as feeling genuine attachment to others is their main weakness. However, Nightfall has always claimed to admire everything Twilight has taught her, seems to go against the spy ideal, and refuses to give up her desire to one day love someone.

In fact, Nightfall manages to crush (literally) Wheeler's arguments by demonstrating that love can be the biggest trigger that drives you to survive, and allows you to break through those limitations that fear of relating to other people gives you.

Yes! Nightfall's feelings for Twilight are totally genuine, and you can tell that she's really willing to accept it. Even if Twilight is now a plastic knife that only cuts butter or a sharp weapon, Nightfall insists on loving him and being willing to sacrifice herself for him, even if it leads to almost destroying herself (literally).

Still, just because Nightfall feels that way, it doesn't imply that his feelings are actually fully reciprocated. It may seem to some that Nightfall and Loid have had more interactions lately, due to the fact that they both work together. However, nothing between them really seems to change.

Nightfall has tried several times to approach Twilight awkwardly, and her attempts to tell her that he has become weak because of the Forger, do not succeed in making him open up to her, in fact, Twilight insists on creating a wall of denial and wants to justify that his actions have always been for the mission, although at this point that wall is already visible and fragile.

Nightfall and Twilight's interactions are based on her trying to make him see that he is opening his heart to his fake family…perhaps as a way to make Twilight freak out and shut down (and thus end up choosing her as his mission wife).

That Nightfall is the one who continually witnesses how Twilight is bonding with her family is pure cruel irony because it hurts her the most to know that her mentor is not being truthful.

Something very opposite to what happened with Yor at the end of the chapter. Yor herself knows that Loid strives not to be vulnerable, and that he himself is closed to depend on another. In other words, Yor is telling him that she can see his exhaustion and weakness, but Loid, far from rejecting this idea, prefers to accept and ask her to help him a little… even if it is still hard for him to accept it.

So, I don't think I can really say that Twilight and Nightfall's relationship is really leading them to reciprocate feelings….

In fact, that Nightfall keeps insisting that he has a chance to break up Loid and Yor's relationship at the slightest sign of weakness makes one believe that he really has a long way to go before he can change

[archiveikemen]

William Rex Main Story: Preview

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

My sin — was a spoonful of poison.

William: You have to record down all my sins because you’re a fairytale writer—

William: If you want to judge me for my sins, then stab me with this knife.

William: Only then, I’ll accept your judgment.

— William Rex. The wicked, “King of Self-Righteousness”.

He had a melodious whispering voice that drove me crazy.

…

William: You have a habit of prioritizing other people's feelings, and you hide your own feelings deep down in your heart.

William: I don't think this is because I was the main culprit of the murder incident.

William: … Why are you hiding?

(“Why”...? I don't know… why.)

(But… it’s just that I…)

(I don't think I should voice my feelings out loud.)

…

His bright red eyes stared straight into my heart and lured out my deepest desires.

The feelings I buried deep down inside my heart even suffocated me in my sleep.

Wiliam: So you want to play games with me…

William: You’ve got some nerve, huh? Kate.

William: My eyes never deceive me.

William: You’re noble, you’re greedy… you're kind, and you're strong.

…

His love was neither medicine nor a poison, and it poured down like the rain in springtime.

A heart that had been locked away, was once again set free.

“Falling in love is a dangerous thing” — and I knew that.

My heart that was close to being torn open always longed for him… it was impossible to stop.

Kate: W-Whenever I’m with you… I… I feel like I’m not myself…

Kate: I… I’m not the type of person to do something like… this…

William: … Do you mean that as a good or bad thing?

Kate: … I don't know. Therefore…

Kate: Because I still… don't know… please tell me.

Feeling him with my eyes, ears, and skin… my heart was changed completely. As if I was reborn.

His “evil” and “destiny” — his true colors were shoved in my face.

…

(This is his sin. This is the price he has to pay in order to protect the people he loves.)

(Up till now, William has committed this sin many… many… times.)

William: It doesn't matter what the reason was. There is no way to justify taking a person’s life. By taking away someone’s life, you are disrespecting their dignity and permanently taking away their freedom.

William: A sin is a sin.

Wavering between good and evil, the feeling of hesitation made my legs tremble.

…

Kate: Does this mean… you want to die in such a way that… makes you fear of being destroyed…?

William: Hm? Ah, yes. You could put it that way.

William: I want it to be as cruel as how evil I’m judged to be.

William: Being evil is my life, and I will continue to be however big of a villain I want to be.

William: Until the day comes to have my head cut off.

He was an “evil” man — who desired the most tragic of deaths.

…

Even when I disregarded my lingering affections and carried on with my daily life… what awaited me was not a happy ending.

As if mocking my suffering, doom came creeping up to me…

He let me go so easily — it was a selfish and cruel act of kindness.

William: Goodbye, Little Robin.

William: I wish for your future to be filled with happiness.

Kate: I don't want you to wish for that… William, wait…!!

…

There is a blade called “justice” that destroys “evil”.

It would be absolutely foolish to stand before that blade.

…

And yet—

(If I call William evil and thrust that blade at him,)

(Whether he’s good or evil, or is this the kind of ending he wants — I…)

William: — My Robin. Respond to my curtain call.

William: When you wake up— I’ll give you my greatest evil (love).

Yes. I want it —

— The punishment for my sin of loving evil.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

How do you think Volo would interact with the FSA boys?

oh YAY thank you for this ask >:)

i'm going to mostly answer this with both the manga characterizations and my personal characterizations in fics (in my fics they're adults, not related or clones, shadow and vio are characterized how i like them, etc.)

i'll do the easy ones first. i think in general, volo would dislike the four links on principle for being the goddess's chosen heroes. obviously. either volo is jealous, or just overall resentful and uncomfortable with the entire situation post-game.

he would almost certainly keep up the fake merchant act with green, blue, red, and zelda. privately, hero stuff aside, he would have a neutral tolerance for them, kind of how i imagine he feels about most of the people in hisui. not particularly interested or attached, and oftentimes annoyed, but mostly just not paying them much mind at all. he's got more important things to think about.

conceptually, i think that volo would vibe with manga shadow's entire premise. he would relate to shadow in his dealings with vaati and ganon (giratina), but he would disagree with shadow sacrificing himself to save the heroes. volo would have tried to dethrone ganon in shadow's position, not destroy him, and he wouldn't have cared about helping the other links or princess.

i don't think volo would have any strong feelings about the shadow i write in my fic. my shadow doesn't actually have a very big ego or god complex or anything, he's usually characterized as desiring attention and belonging more than any kind of power. the subversion of his dynamic with vio, in my writing especially, is that shadow is a pretty chill guy with conventional moral values, and vio is... vio. if shadow was to be assigned a role in a story based on who he is alone, he would be the hero, not the villain. a strange and theatrical hero, but a hero all the same.

volo is strange and theatrical too, and i do think a core aspect of his character is his desire for attention and belonging. however, he wants to acquire those things in a very different way from the shadow i write, and he does not possess conventionally heroic qualities at all. so much of the volo we see in the game is an intentional deception, which means we don't actually know a lot for sure about his true self. however, based on his mask-off moments and the way he went about his plan and constructing his fake persona, i don't think "fixing" him as a villain would work in the same way as "fixing" shadow typically does/did in the manga and my fics.

volo would fucking despise manga vio. specifically, he would hate the fact that vio does ultimately attempt to break the mirror and abandon shadow, and that he (and the others, but specifically vio) reform link at the end. a couple reasons for his hatred of the character:

he'd really like vio from the forest scene to the confrontation at the volcano. he'd probably be like "holy shit this is the realest bitch i've ever read, fuck being a hero, let this theatrical nerd go apeshit with the evil demon"

but then he'd basically flip his perspective when vio fakes killing green and continues to lie to shadow. volo says in the game that he resents the way the world is unfair and causes pain--i think it's safe to assume that some part of that is due to the way other people have treated him in the past. i can definitely see volo relating to shadow's attachment and trust of vio, and the sort of high he got from having vio on his team. the devotion of it all. so to see this heroic character balance his conflicted interests and ultimately choose his destined responsibilities over the stuff he'd gotten up to with shadow, would piss volo off. after all, volo is the guy who got so engrossed in his unique hyperfixation, and doing it in his own way, that he chose to work retail part-time instead of joining the survey corps under people who thought they knew better. the man genuinely believed that he could do a better job being god, than god itself. he'd see the way manga vio enjoyed being around shadow, and doing non-heroic shit, and then the way vio eventually kinda just gave up and lost that part of himself, and hate it.

volo would feel less hatred, but not much else, about most of my fanfic vios. especially in the fics that are mostly just ab ship stuff with shadow, i don't think he'd give a shit. i don't really see volo as a person who thinks often about romance, given the fact that his only real friend is a sentient egg. he would hate my vios less, because i don't think i have written a single fic in which vio ended up exactly how he did in the manga, but he'd still kind of just be like whatever about him.

corruption but it's unchill au vio could probably give volo an existential crisis. that vio has crazy beef with god, but his solution isn't to defeat and subjugate god and then become god himself--instead, he and his friends tell god that her creations could do better, and then use the power she gave them to banish her from the realm entirely.

i don't think volo ever considered that an option during his storyline, because he was so convinced that the world wasn't worth saving, and he had no one truly on his side. like, it must have been so deeply isolating for him, to share his true self with no other human beings at all. vio in cbiuc has shadow, and as i repeat multiple times in the fic's prose, it matters. i think volo would be a little jealous of that. maybe if volo had been less of a misanthropic freak and teamed up with some people, he could have found himself in a world worth living in, with people who understood and loved him. one of the fic's main themes is "misery loves company," and volo spent his story both very miserable and very alone. so maybe seeing vio's arc in cbiuc would make a post-canon volo realize that it's the company he's really missing.

(maybe eventually i'll tackle that in a fic about volo, but i'm still kinda detoxing from the process of writing cbiuc even like months later. that shit tormented me.)

[conostra]

Griffith's Relationships (6)

The White Hawk. The White Phoenix. The King of Falconia. The Savior. Femto. The Blessed King of Longing. Once, the greatest mortal to ever wield a sword. The bane of the Black Swordsman. The most beautiful man alive. Him with a stature nothing short of pure magnificence. You know him. You love to hate him. I’m talking about one of the greatest characters not just in manga, but in all of fiction: Griffith.

Griffith is one of many examples of how masterful Kentaro Miura was with a pen, be it pressing against a notebook or a panel. An incredibly written character, as complex as they can come, with some of the most complicated, deep, and tragic relationships I’ve ever seen put to any form of media.

Today, I’ll be discussing what is inarguably a core tenet of Berserk: Griffith’s relationships. With two exceptions, there is no dispute that Griffith’s relationships are not the singular most important part of the media he resides in, there is no debate over whether or not they are still crucial parts of understanding both Guts’ disposition, and the world of Berserk itself. Griffith’s different approaches to interacting with those in his vicinity warps the very world itself, and his whims shape the very nature of the conflicts the protagonist engages in.

Here, we will be discussing Griffith’s most important relationships through Berserk, how they shaped him, and what they explain about who he is and how he got to where he is now.

Part 1: The Boy, and The Hawks

Part 2: The Governor.

Part 3: The King.

Part 4: Charlotte.

Part 5: The Wings of the Hawk (1)

Part 6: The Wings of the Hawk (2)

______________________________________________________________

Part 6: The Wings of the Hawk (2)

Love. Hatred. Love and hatred and a burning, smothering, suffocating desire. Those are the things that define how Griffith felt about Guts. There is no other way to put it. There is some amount of discourse around whether or not Griffith’s attachment to Guts is platonic, romantic, sexual, or whatever- I am here to tell you that it does not matter. (but to be clear, it is at least a little gay. Sexuality and attraction are a spectrum, and something can be homoerotic without necessarily being homosexual. But the undertones and subtext in much of Griffith’s interactions and feelings towards Guts is there. It’s pretty clear.) Griffith’s emotions are so garbled, his feelings, how he perceives the dynamics of lust, love, affection, appreciation, power, and control are so tangled up and destroyed by even the time he meets Guts, that every single interaction involving any of those feelings has to involve all of them. They are so inextricably connected through trauma and his history that their influences on each other must be taken into account. 

Like at their very first meeting. While Griffith had spotted Guts when he fought against Bazuso, noticing the insane, borderline-suicidal tactic that Guts had used to best him, their first real exchange is after Guts killed some of his men, and was about to slaughter Casca and Corkus. Griffith bears no ill will towards him, merely asking, “Would you lower your sword?” When he sees Guts’ reaction, he reluctantly continues, “I guess not…” before parrying his swing and relatively gently disarming him with a strike to the armpit. A few days later, after Griffith ordered Casca to assist him in staying warm, as was, supposedly, her duty, his first words to him are to compliment his strength and swordsmanship, admitting he could never wield the way Guts does. Later on, in the same conversation, Griffith puts all his chips out at once with a single statement, point blank: “Because I realized I want you, Guts.” Guts rebukes this because of his own personal issues, and Griffith’s response is casual, asking what Guts will do, and admitting that he does not dislike violence as an answer when that response is violence. It’s all laid out here. “I must obtain the things I desire.” Whatever Griffith thinks this means, however he intended it, it’s perhaps the most honest summarization of himself in the series. 

And then, they fight. And all this does is improve Guts’ status as an object of Griffith’s desire. He is unwavering, willing to put life and limb on the line with every swing. He has incredible spur-of-the-moment plans that work in his favor, incredibly absurd strategies that somehow sway the tide to play to his strengths. He even manages, if only for a moment, to flip the script on Griffith, getting some very solid hits in before Griffith ultimately incapacitates him. And from here; Griffith is certain. Guts is his, and Guts will be his, and Guts will be the best thing he has ever had. Despite Guts’ issues with Griffith at this point, Griffith immediately begins entrusting him with very important, vital parts of the Hawks’ survival. The next mission, he is assigned to head their rear guard, making sure the Hawks are not overrun by enemy soldiers as they flee from the raid they are to perform. Most people think Griffith did this on purpose, as Guts would either run away or get slaughtered. But a few understand what this assignment really means- Griffith trusts Guts 100%, already. Later in that mission, Griffith even returns to save Guts after he put his life on the line to save more men. They play together, and Griffith strikes a chord deep in Guts as he proclaims he will one day have his own kingdom, sparking something that will lay dormant for years, but eventually fire back at him. And he puts more faith in Guts all the same, entrusting him with 10 men after his first mission, the number only increasing as Guts proves more and more why Griffith’s faith is not misplaced. 

They play off of each other very well. Guts is reckless, but fierce, and loyal. His skill with a sword is matched only by his willingness, an almost insatiable itch, to swing. And Griffith is just as skilled, just as fierce, but his strength lies not in his strength, but in his ability to plan, to account for Guts’ ferocity as part of his overarching goals. And together, they ascend through Midland’s army, Griffith becoming nobility as they begin to turn the tide against Chuder. The relationship reaches its ultimate test when Griffith puts his life on the line to assist Guts against the legendary battlefield hurricane, Nosferatu Zodd, the immortal mercenary who’s torn war fields to shreds for over a century. Risking and losing soldiers by the dozen, his own life hanging by a thread after the fact, forcing Casca to take the others and retreat, Griffith cements here the idea that Guts alone is worth the risk, and potential forfeiture, of his own life. But Griffith counts on their combined will to see them through the day, the combination of their strength, endurance, and the combined fate they both share. And as the Crimson Behelit drives the creature with the inhuman name Nosferatu Zodd off the battlefield, it only ascertains to Griffith that he and Guts stand above in terms of what they are capable of, and what they are fated for. Only the two of them could have possibly survived long enough for the Behelit to come into play as a deciding factor for their lives in the first place.

And this is Casca’s issue when she argues with Guts, asking what exactly it is that Griffith sees in him. Of course, she recognizes that this only happened to Griffith because of Guts. But what she fails to accept in the moment, and what even the two themselves don’t quite know or understand, is that this would not have happened to Griffith if it was anyone but Guts. When the rumor of Zodd’s appearance is shared, it is no one but Guts who is Griffith’s primary concern. Not all the men in the castle. Not all his warriors on the field. Not the others he has deemed as captains around him, who would have to fight the beast should Guts fail- it is Guts alone which occupies Griffith’s mind.

And after Griffith heals from his injuries enough to walk, what does he do? He goes straight to Guts, who is training despite clearly still being injured. And he does something he has never found reason to do- he justifies his behavior, and explains why he is doing what he is doing. If Guts does what he must on the battlefield, Griffith does whatever he must to gain favor, approval, and less prestigious advantages, but advantages nonetheless, as the face of the Hawks. He must navigate the battles of political intrigue, the shifting tides and domineering armies of the royal court, the same way Guts must lead the raiders to a battlefield where blood is spilled instead of secrets and gold.

And once again, Griffith is frighteningly transparent to Guts here. And once again, Guts does not understand. 

Why, he asks, does Griffith continue to stake his life over one, single, lone soldier, out of his army? 

And Griffith’s answer is clear:

“Tell me…

Do I need a reason each time I put myself in harm’s way for your sake?”

It could not get any more obvious than this. Griffith is a man of a million reasons, a man who juggles complex logistics the same way we might a pair of fruits. And yet, here he is, admitting that despite the facade of logic, and cold, calculated reason that he shows, there are things he values beyond that. Rather, his language makes it clear. A single thing. One thing, beyond all others, that he is willing to put himself at death’s door for. Guts. And still, Guts does not understand the weight behind the words. And, in his fairness, Griffith is a man of shocking truths behind muffled and insulated airs. He hides each dagger behind a smile, and each motive behind further motives still. And yet, this here is the unadulterated truth. Guts is as valuable to him as his own life.

And this continues for a long time. Guts is told Griffith’s plans, his information, things that he has shared with no other soul, given glimpses into plans years in the making, even let in on and participating in Griffith’s plans to assassinate many of the nobles and royalty that stand in, not his, but their way to prominence. And during these missions, Guts makes decisions that he regrets, that cause him to spiral, that cause him to question his allegiances and his devotion to Griffith’s dream. And one day, he hears Griffith wooing Charlotte, and Griffith says something to her.

“What I think a friend is, is one who is my equal.”

This something is what finally widens the schism in Guts’ heart. He feels as though he is not Griffith’s equal, that he has no greater aspiration for himself, that he currently just is not worth being Griffith’s friend. But what Guts does not understand here is that Griffith is blustering. Guts is already the closest thing Griffith could ever consider an equal. Guts is already the thing Griffith can consider closest to a friend, a soulmate, a partner, a lover, whatever you can call what Griffith would truly regard as an equal. Whatever Griffith says here about his stance, there is nothing that Guts can say or do that can advance himself any further in Griffith’s mind. 

And this is proven on the fated day. The day that Guts finally decides to challenge Griffith once again. To Guts, this is the first step in a long journey, a journey to prove not only to Griffith, but to himself, that he is worthy of being held in the same regard as the lofty ambitions that occupy the primary space in Griffith’s heart. But to Griffith, this is nowhere near the same. This is not Guts attempting to prove his kinship- far from it. This is treason. This is near-blasphemous. This is the ultimate betrayal. He is attempting to remove himself from not just the Hawks, but from Griffith. Guts is rebuking everything that Griffith has extended towards him, and in turn, Griffith himself. Griffith’s poisoned understanding of relationships makes this as seething and burning as it is heart-wrenching for Guts. For Guts to denounce Griffith’s only true feelings amongst a sea of affectations that Guts alone should be able to see through? Why, this is the same as spitting in his face and asking to be apologized to. And as Griffith once said, he is not a man who dislikes violence as a solution. So, the two stand off. And in a non-verbal exchange between all the characters present, something is made absolutely clear once again: This is, far and away, the most devastating misunderstanding that could have possibly occurred here. But the fault does not fall solely on either of them individually.

Guts has, at this point in time, made his goals in leaving very clear. Very clear, that is, to everyone except the White Phoenix General himself. The man before him, Griffith, has no understanding of the true motivation Guts has besides the fact that Guts indeed wants to leave. And that is the only information Guts gives him. And on Griffith’s end, he can see no other reason that Guts wants to leave, other than to simply be rid of him. While they are stanced, readying themselves to engage, Guts is thinking about how, at the very least, Griffith being willing to fight him means he is still willing to spill blood over Guts, including his, and including his own. Griffith, on the other hand, is having a meltdown. His focus wavers. He spirals out, thinking to himself: 

“Do you want to go? 

Is this how badly you want to leave my grasp? 

You can’t. You can’t! I won’t have it!

 I won’t let you!” 

As he thinks on how to defeat Guts, he falls on a single option that might potentially end his life here. But in this manic state, the first time witnesses besides Casca acknowledge that Griffith’s usual poise is completely deserted, he acknowledges this and continues on: 

“Even then… if I can’t have him, I don’t care!” 

But, he does. Oh, so obviously, so clearly, he does. And when Guts beats him, calmly, without harming him at all, Griffith collapses, dropping his rapier. He is completely, utterly broken with this single swipe. Guts simply tells him, “Take care.” And he leaves the Hawks. And he leaves Griffith, alone. Sure, the other commanders, the other relevant members of the army are there by his side. But what does that matter? Griffith has finally been bested. Not just bested, humiliated. It has been asserted in no uncertain terms that he does not have the sway he thinks he does. And that, in his eyes, his camaraderie, his trust, his faith, his love, is not worth holding on to.

So he goes off. That same night, he gallavants with Charlotte, taking her virginity, and during the whole act, despite him almost claiming Charlotte, assuage her fears and pleasuring her, it is Guts who dominates his mind. It is Guts he sees as Charlotte orgasms, and it is Guts’ voice he hears as she cries out. All he can envision as he asserts himself onto this girl, who is in completely and utterly helpless love with him, is the only man he truly cared for, giving him one final good-bye. Charlotte does not notice his thousand-yard stare, his vacant eyes. But we do. And we see that it is Guts that rules his decision-making. Even after they make love, all he can do is caress the mark on his shoulder that was left from Guts’ blade, and cry in Charlotte’s bed. Griffith is arrested for this act of high treason, and sent to rot with the torturer in the deepest dungeon in Midland. And with all of this happening, throughout the entire year of his torture, slowly being driven mad, trapped in the darkness with only his thoughts and the torchlight of the thing hired to bring him naught but suffering, chained and strung up, he has no words besides the last he had uttered. 

“...Yes. Worthless. This is worthless.”

And in that infinite darkness, when time flows as it stagnates, when brightness flashes dull, there was a single thing, not keeping him sane, as his sanity was up for question long ago, but keeping his consciousness anchored to this mortal coil- Guts. every time he envisioned his face, every feeling he could still feel stirred within him.

“Malice, Friendship, Jealousy, Futility, Regret, Tenderness, Sorrow, Pain, Hunger… So many recurring, yearning feelings. That giant swirl of violent emotions in which none are definite but all are implied.” 

Griffith even finally acknowledges that, at the end of this raving speech in a madman’s perpetual dying gasp, perhaps… perhaps his goal was no longer the castle on high. Why, he asked, in this vision in his light, did the castle’s glow reduce to a pale shimmer compared to the sight of his face, the sound of his voice, the mere idea of his presence? Since when did Guts get the grip over him that he had so firmly, so soundly, over Guts instead? 

Since when did Guts become Griffith’s dream?

And who else could lead the charge to save him from this endless nightmare, but his waking dream himself? When Griffith’s eyes open, and there is not pure darkness, there is Guts. After a long, brutal year, the first thing he sees is none other than Guts. And his first instinct after all this time, after all the suffering, and prolonging in turn, Guts has caused him, Griffith seeks to choke him. And what does Guts do, after seeing the man to whom he aspired, crippled and weakened to the desperate state he was in? He cries. He cries over Griffith, who softens his grip, and instead grabs his hand.

After their escape, where each of the commanders of the Hawks puts their lives on the line to save Griffith, killing the Bakiraka and the Black Dog Knights, finally, Grifith is returned to the light in peace. But through it all, Griffith realized his body was in tatters. He had no strength left to hold a sword. He could barely mouth words, and speaking was out of the question through the loss of his tongue. And through it all, he saw Guts perform. He was a demon in battle, his strength incalculable. He tore through man and Apostle alike. His every word carried the gravitas of a leader for decades. He did not carry the same incredible airs as Griffith, but every word carried with it a domineering force. The men respected him, and they would follow him to the ends of the earth. With or without Griffith to lead. In fact, they insisted. And Griffith had even overheard the very moment that Guts truly had stolen away Casca- evidence abound both before and after she vented about how pitiable his fragile form had become, and how much time would be needed to gently nurse him back to health. If he could even return to a state where he could live on his own again, of course. And only after the horrific embarrassment, the final stripping away of Griffith’s mystique, his humanity, at the hands of Wyld, the leader of the Black Dogs. 

And somehow, motivated by a hallucination, or perhaps a waking dream, Griffith manages to take off with a carriage, before being vaulted into the air, and landing in the lake. The lake where he attempts to take his own life. The lake where the Behelit lies. The lake where, after all this time, the Eclipse occurs. 

And we know what happens in the Eclipse. We are well aware. And we know what happens with Casca, and Griffith, and Guts. And during this transformation, where Griffith supposedly reaches this ascended, emotionless form, he does but one thing. He still, after all of this, wishes to put Guts through the same torture, same repulsive emotions that he went through in that dungeon. By taking away from him the one he loves. By stripping him of his aspirations. After all, the only thing that can equal the loss of a dream, is the stripping of a dream in turn. But through this act, he shall never have the one thing he had wished for. He is the Blessed King of Longing, and forever shall he desire. 

______________________________________________________________

Griffith is a complex, multi-faceted, tragic, broken character. More occurs later on with him, and with Guts, and Casca, and with the straggler of the Hawks who was saved by the Knight of Skull, but all of it is rooted in these interactions. As the series draws on, an inevitable march towards its ultimate conclusion, I can’t help but wonder just how Kentaro Miura was capable of writing such a captivating story, with such realistic, gripping motivations for such realistic, gripping characters. Every character is worth having as a favorite. And every character is worth wishing for a happy ending. Except, of course, for a few. But even then, I wish he achieved his dream. I just dream that other means were taken. Rest in peace Miura. And thank you. May your dream live on through Kouji Mori, and through us.

[coldslaws-gear-station]

🖊️ beta AU N while they were waiting for their paperwork or whatever it was that Alder had to do before N was put on house arrest

about bn's time in prison:

honestly, he wasn't even aware he was being considered for parole until he was at the hearings. he spent most of his prison time (which could've been years tbh, though i don't think i set a specific timeframe) assuming this is where he would be for life. despite their continued bitter hatred for the world at large, they actually kept their head down in prison, despondent from their failure, and most prisoners usually weren't exactly keen to mess with the guy who was able to wield a legendary dragon anyways.

not always, though. some people saw it as a challenge or retribution- n tried to destroy the lives of everyone in unova, maybe some prisoners had family in opelucid, of course they were gonna be pissed at him. but since security had such a genuine concern that n may attempt to radicalize others to plasma ideals (he really didnt) and already kept a close eye on them, any scraps got broken up fast. it was basically a pseudo protective custody arrangement, but n was still allowed with general population because it never got That bad. he kept to himself and usually that's enough for people to leave you alone

they probably mostly spent their time reading, if doing anything at all. it's not like they had anything better to do; no one to call, no will to interact with people, no desire to use the gym. maybe they tried drawing a few times, and spent time in the yard when allowed- it mightve made them angrier to be out there, frankly, close to the nature they love, but boxed in on all sides. but even then, he's still gonna take time outside because he needs the sun. but mostly i imagine that n did the bare minimum of existence, because he figured that he'd lost and it was over. once caged, then free, now forever caged again.

of course n would be used to being shut in like this. he hates it, it tears him up inside and infuriates him that he got a taste of freedom only to be locked away again, but he's used to it. his disinterest in just about everything outside of being alone probably made it even harder for alder to convince the parole panel that n had a shot at being rehabilitated, but hey, alder's got enough influence and reputation for them to heavily consider his input

[suvidrache]

A Ruined Childhood

age in bio when interacting. minors do not interact.

Word Count: 838 / Read it on AO3 / Wattpad | Event List

Vergil is much different from Dante.

Vergil preferred to be alone. He was happy with you, however; he didn't like going to visit places much. He would occasionally take you on dates to small places where there were no people or very few people. He loved you, but he didn't want to run the risk of someone who knows him hurting or even killing you. He is a very private man.

Vergil would sometimes bring you home things from his trips. He never disclosed his occupation, in case you wanted to join in, or if something were to happen. He didn't want you to worry about him. He knew that you could handle yourself out there, but he didn't want to run the risk of you getting hurt. Even if it wasn't his fault, he would still blame himself for it. He wanted you to stay safe and also stay away from Dante. He found Dante to be annoying and he would hate if Dante started flirting or making comments about you. Dante loved to tell jokes and mess with Vergil. He didn't need to give Dante another reason to mess with him.

The only reason Vergil ever returned to help Dante out is that, despite how much he dislikes him, he is his brother, and he couldn't fight them alone. Both Dante and Vergil were born of Sparda and Eva. Dante had become a demon hunter and Vergil? He had desired power and to follow in the footsteps of his powerful demon father. Eva had hidden Dante away and searched for Vergil, to no avail. She had died trying and Vergil had been haunted for years, believing his mother had cared more about Dante than him.

Redgrave City had once been a city full of life. It was a happy and active place. Before the demons attacked it, before the land had been destroyed, brought back, and destroyed again. Many survivors left the city in hopes of finding a safe and better place.

Vergil sat on the couch reading the newspaper. He enjoyed reading a lot and preferred to read classic literature, but he liked to keep up with the things that happened in the city.

Vergil's childhood home had been destroyed when he was a child by demons. He had continued to reside there, despite the terrible condition it was in. He had done little to fix it and to bring back the home to its former glory. His home was a mansion on the outskirts of town. Not many came by here and if they did, they didn't bother to come to the house - or what remains of the house. When Vergil met you, he realized that if things continued any further, he would have to restore his home. He couldn't let you see the saddened state his home had become. So, in his free time, he began to restore the house. It was a slow and steady progress. It was better than it had once been. However, there was still work that needed to be done. You had no problem with it and helped Vergil out with as much as you could. You weren't bothered by the lack of care some places in the house had. You enjoyed helping to restore the place to its former glory.

You had left for the store and would be returning soon. Vergil had nothing to worry about until it hit him. You had been gone a while. Demons and Dante roamed the land. What happened if one of them got to you? He threw his paper aside and quickly got ready. He headed out the door and headed down the same pathway you had taken, or so he had hoped. It wasn't long before he had run into you.

"Y/N, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm okay, thank you. How are you?"

"I'm fine. I was just worried something had happened to you."

"Oh! No, it's okay. I just grabbed a little too many." You said with a small smile to help put him at ease. He returned with a small smile and he grabbed some of the groceries from you. Together, you both made your way home while Vergil kept watch for any demons that may be near. He didn't want to lose you to them.

He opened the door for you and followed in after you. He helped you to put the groceries away and then he went upstairs. He debated whether to do it here or not. It wouldn't be very romantic, but he didn't entirely want to leave the house. He grabbed the box from the drawer and went back downstairs. Only quietly, as he did not want to ruin the surprise yet. You were heading to the sitting room and so he appeared behind you, dropped to one knee, and held the ring box open.

"Y/N, would you make me the happiest man alive?"

You turned and your hands cupped your face. You nodded and lowered your hands.

"Yes, I will."

© SUVIDRACHE — do not copy, translate, modify, or plagiarize my work. reblogs are appreciated!

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