#but he embodies. literally everything else

[thekoldun]

Also I think it's really interesting how after Evan framed his question in terms of all the other wizards, present and future, as being Bombini's family, and then asked Bombini what he wanted Evan to relate to his "family," to the community that Bombini was inherently part of, Bombini instead said that he'd see his family soon enough and tell them himself, which was essentially him rejecting Evan's premise. His family wasn't his community and fellow wizards, it was a select group of three people he loved and it could never include anything or anyone else.

That's how reactionary impulses begin. By holding to the idea that you can only ever relate and feel connected to a finite set of people. And when they're gone, as they will be gone, not having the capacity to find belonging, community, teamwork, a network in anyone else. If you can't realize that you are more alike every single other human being than anything else in the world, if you cling to dead friends who after a point are more concepts and ideals than friends, literally embodied as heraldry and color coded uniforms, of course the thing you will preserve will be a horrible, tacky farce.

Everything will always circle back to the institution you founded because it's the only place invested with what bit of empathy and companionship you limited yourself to, and you refused to look for anything new that could exist past its walls.

[pritvolny]

thinking about nikolai's love language being all the love languages

[lesbiansanemi]

See the issue is I actually really like Yuta and Maki’s relationship and think it’s interesting. Like I think they have a fun friendship and would like to see more of it. This issue is 98% of the ppl who put Yuta and Maki in the same post do it for shipping purposes and it kinda makes me wanna throw up a little

[sanguinesmi1e]

A Round Door Like a Porthole, Lazarus Green Pt. 1 (you're here) Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Wayne Enterprises didn’t really need a small business specializing in “ecto-weapons” invented by self-purported ghost hunters, but S.T.A.R. Labs tipped Lucius Fox off that Lex Luthor was trying to buy an obscure little company in Illinois, and thwarting Luthor was always worthwhile. Now Tim just had to figure out what to do with all the equipment and the concerningly large arsenal of guns and things that looked like normal household items but seemed to have other, horrific purposes. He would have laughed at the way they slapped “Fenton” in front of every invention name (do ghost hunters really need a Fenton thermos? Won’t a normal thermos keep their coffee hot just as well? Are ghosts like trout, to be caught with a Fenton Ghost Fisher which just looks like a normal fishing rod but glow-in-the-dark. And what the fuck even is a Fenton Peeler!?), but he thought with some chagrin about the batarangs, batmobile, and everything else that had “bat” as a prefix in the batcave. 

However, of all the things Tim hadn’t expected to find when he flew out to do an inventory of assets after they bought the business sight-unseen, a portal generating a Lazarus Pit in gaseous form was probably at the top of his list. He didn’t even know that Lazarus water could change states from a liquid to a gas like that. Maybe there actually was something to the whole ghost thing. He supposed that it made sense for ghosts to exist, after all Deadman was part of Justice League Dark. Speaking of. . . he should see if Bruce could call in someone from JLD to assess things. He was feeling decidedly out of his depth.

John Constantine did not like to consult for mega corporations like Wayne Enterprises, but Batman had specifically requested he go check something out and he figured, where's the harm? 

There. 

There’s the harm. 

It turned out the “thing” he’d been called in to look at is a machine that can tear open a stable portal into the Infinite Realms. That is not something that should be possible. That is not something technology should be capable of achieving. That is definitely not something that should exist. Bloody hell, what had the Bats roped him into!?

This really should have been Zatana’s job. Or Deadman’s. Hell, Raven or Secret would be preferable. Because John would prefer not to be dealing with this. In fact, he would prefer to be back in literal Hell than deal with the crazy shit in the Infinite Realms. Could John handle demons, archangels, and even gods? Yeah. He can bind or exorcize most supernatural threats. Does that mean he relishes the idea of going toe to toe with heavy hitters from the Infinite Realms? Absolutely not. 

Some beings who lived there were just little blob ghosts made from ectoplasm and emotion. Some were the restless undead who could not or would not cross over to their afterlives. And some were the embodiments of concepts like nature, destructive weather, and dreams. He wasn’t sure where Death fit into the Realms, whether she ruled or visited, or if it was actually just an extension of her, but he didn’t really want to find out. There were many things John could defeat. Death wasn’t one of them. And now he was looking at a portal into a realm where the living were not meant to be. 

Danny hadn’t returned to Fenton Works since graduating high school. It turned out that he was less anxious when he was not living with people who fantasized about ��tearing him apart molecule by molecule” and thought that discussing their plans to dissect him (although he maintained that it would be a vivisection since he’s only half dead) made for fascinating dinner conversation. Who would have thought that his constant stress, anxiety, and insomnia were caused by environmental factors? He’d been unpacking things with a very nice therapist his sister helped him find, and seen great improvements in his mental health. It really helped that she was dead too, and unlike Spectra she didn’t feed off the misery of her patients.

Danny hadn’t intended to ever return to Fenton Works, but when Jazz told him that Jack and Maddie sold their life's work to Wayne Enterprises and a multibillionaire playboy was about to have unfettered access to the Ghost Zone, he was. . . concerned. To say the least. And that was why he was in the middle of doing some light sabotage when Tim Drake-Wayne and a guy in a trenchcoat who reeked of cigarette smoke entered the basement lab. It’s why he was hiding under the Specter Speeder removing the ecto-engine, and there to overhear the conversation that followed.

“So, am I right in thinking that’s a Lazarus Pit?” Tim asked Constantine.

The older man stared at the portal, then at Tim, then at the portal for an uncomfortably long time. Then he pulled out a flask and drained half its contents before saying, “Yes and no. That is basically the same substance as the pits, but I think that this does something else entirely. It seems like this machine basically functions as a summoning circle, but instead of pulling one entity from one side to the other, this is just an open doorway that is perpetually pulling in anything or anyone who gets within its sphere of influence.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good thing, John.”

“It’s really not,” 

“So what does that mean, is it like a blown hatch in space causing rapid depressurization?” Tim felt a little ill at the thought. “What is it even pulling into our world?”

“No, no. Nothing so dramatic as that. It’s more like, hm, so the way summoning circles work is they invite or compel a specific entity to manifest, by basically making a one-way magical portal for them. This portal is kinda like an invitational summoning, which entices, but doesn’t force anyone to enter. Usually a summoning will have a purpose though, and the being you summon will be offered a deal. If this is doing what I think it is and pulling citizens of the Infinite Realms through and leaving them on this side without a contract or direction, they’re probably getting pretty frustrated and causing havoc. It’s like offering someone a job in another country so they have to get a visa and uproot everything, only to get off the plane and find an empty office, no housing, and no paycheck.” John lit up a cigarette and took a drag.

Tim wrinkled his nose, but knew from long experience that it wasn’t worth it to argue about American tobacco restrictions in the workplace with Constantine, especially while the man was doing him a favor. Also, the man looked like he really needed either a cigarette or another drink, and he’d prefer second hand smoke to a drunk sorcerer. “So then why hasn’t this town been overrun by these beings from the Infinite Realms?”

“Good question kid, but what I really want to know is how is this portal staying open? Really, how was it opened in the first place is the most pressing issue.” John mused.

Tim had already located the blueprints for the portal while waiting for Constantine, but either the Fentons had intentionally falsified the documents to seem plausible just long enough to make off with the money, or he just didn’t understand enough of the interaction between physics and the occult to comprehend how the portal could possibly function. 

He flipped back through the blueprints while the blond man sat cross legged in front of the swirling green portal and his low, distracted mutterings took on the cadence of a chant. The curl of smoke from his lit cigarette unfurled into some kind of spell array, and began to glow. Huh, maybe Tim shouldn't be too quick to judge him for tobacco misuse. Tim triple checked the flat file for any more information about the portal, and came up empty handed.

John, meanwhile, kept chanting as the magical array grew and spread to encompass the entire entrance to the portal. At last he stopped speaking and stood up, stepping back to double check his work. “Alright, Drake. You might wanna close your eyes for this one. It’s gonna be bright,” he said, popping his cigarette back between his lips. Then he stepped forward and blew a mouthful of smoke on the center of the array. The smoke caught against the softly glowing lines, pushing them until they floated back and collided with the nebulous green swirls and, despite Tim closing his eyes, flashed so incandescently white he could see them through his eyelids.

“OW! Fuck!!” John clutched his face, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I’m doubling my consulting fee,” he grumbled under his breath.

“You alright?” Tim asked, blinking spots out of his vision.

“Yeah, yeah. Just give me a sec.” He too was blinking now. “That was not supposed to be so bright.”

“I’m assuming it worked though.”

“It had bloody well better ’ave worked.” The older man squinted at the slightly dimmer lines which still shone painfully bright against the green. “Oh. Yeah, that worked. Fuck. . .”

“What?” Tim looked on in alarm as Constantine pressed a hand over his mouth. 

“Oh man. What wanker did you say created this portal?”

“Presumably Drs. Madeline and Jack Fenton. Why?” He drew the last syllable out skeptically. 

“Because, they opened this portal with a child sacrifice, and bound his death and all the lost life potential to their bloody machine to create a perpetual gateway to the Infinite Realms.”

[silvercloverr5]

James Potter is easily the biggest of the three. He’s just so muscular and strong, but in a soft way. He’s got a soft layer of fat protecting his muscles, and I imagine he’s very freckled too. Not sure why. He is the epitome of a golden retriever boyfriend. He likes being the big spoon, and has an INCREDIBLE weak spot for getting his hair played with. Like, it’s literally orgasmic to him. He grew up with everything. Love, money, etc, etc, so he’s probably the touchiest (at first), and is all over you from the start. Also, I think he often forgets his strength and squeezes u too hard and you’ve gotta be like “uh.. Jamie..? You’re.. you’re kinda squeezing-“ and he just puts an arm over ur mouth like “shut up, baby. Sorry. Love you.” He’s adorable.

Remus Lupin is just a normal sized boy, and runs hot like a radiator. Honestly. He doesn’t even need all those knitted sweaters and warm coffee because he just is the embodiment of autumn warmth. He’s littered with silver scars from his lycanthropy, so when u see him naked for the first time, he’s so self conscious. He’d have his arms wrapped around himself, shielding his scars from your view, and you’ve got to prize his hands off of himself. “I’m sorry.. i know they’re not.. appealing.. it’s…” and you’re just like “woah, rem, what? You’re fucking beautiful.” You say that, and he’s yours. He’s not used to love like James is, but he’s probably the one to start getting cuddly. I imagine it’s winter and he’s reading in the common room, and ur shivering because by some miracle the fire isn’t on. He looks up from his book, admiring you for a while and then lifts up his sweater. You SHOOT underneath it and basically curl up like a cat against his bare chest. I repeat: HE IS SO FUCKING WARM. You’d probably have an ‘eternal sunshine of the spotless mind’ moment with him at the start of your relationship though. You know when Clementine is saying she always thought she was ugly and Joel starts kissing her and saying “you’re pretty, you’re pretty, you’re pretty…” yeah, you’d be Joel and he’d be Clementine. But once he’s comfortable, he’s a fucking fiend. You’ll never be cold again, trust me.

Sirius Black is skinny and pale. Like a vampire. Endearingly. I imagine he has a nose piercing and an eyebrow piercing, and he’s all tattooed up. Will DEFINITELY get your initial on his abdomen or collarbone in swirly penmanship. Sirius will act like your best friend even when u two are dating. Bless him though, he’s so used to being hurt and abused by those that are meant to protect him that he can’t trust you at first. I think the first time he came to realise you were different is when you asked him what happened after winter break at his parent’s house, because he was being really quiet and flinching a lot which is unlike him. You cornered him in the common room when no one else was there, and asked him “hey, Siri? What’s going on, man? Tell me.” He insisted, “I’m fine. I swear, sweetheart.” You went to tuck his black curls behind his ear but he flinched, which shattered your heart. You said “Sirius, please. I need to know you’re okay, because I need you safe.” And hearing that, he broke down into your arms. From then on, he’s always in your arms. He adores comforting you, because he’s a big brother himself and so he has the instinct, you know? But man, does he fucking adore being in your arms. He WILL curl up beside you wherever you’re sitting or lying, and is always rubbing against you. He always says “I can’t help it, babe, it’s just the dog in me.” Which he seems to find HILARIOUS. Oh yeah, and he literally can’t sleep unless you’re the big spoon or his head is on your chest or in your neck. He likes to feel safe and protected for once, and you do that for him to no end. He’s THE 70s rocker stereotype, and he loves having matching nail polish with you. You’re best friends as well as lovers.

Sorry for yapping to no end guys!!!

[purplelea]

This King right here is not only the best King ever but also the best dad, however brief his actual appearance in the show was. His influence can be seen everywhere but most importantly in his two sons Callum and Ezran, because they're the protagonists. The main reason Ezran is able to lead a country at such a young age is thanks to his dad. Harrow was a king beloved by his people, but he made mistakes, and he was aware of them. Big mistakes, that led to war, instead of the peace he sought to protect. His main priority was that his children wouldn't follow his path. That they would break the cycle of violence and not be trapped by history. He knew death awaited him for what he did and didn't fight it—he looked forwards, to his sons, so they would get a brighter future thanks to the value he taught them. And they did.

Vote King Harrow.

THE DAD BRACKET: ROUND 1

Moominpappa - Moomin / King Harrow - The Dragon Prince

If you like what I’m doing, reblog so others can participate! And remember: Bring your favorites up, don’t bring the others down!

[ichore]

HEAVEN AND BACK | SUKUNA RYOMEN

synopsis: by the time your mother decided to marry sukuna ryomen's father, you have already noticed some weird things about your stepbrother. one, he has a thing for masks. two, he has a thing for drugs. three, he has a thing for you. and now you're stuck with him forever.

tags, warnings: MINORS DNI, modern au, stepcest, dubcon at some parts, afab!reader x sukuna ryomen, usage of marijuana, usage of ecstasy, reader usually takes birth control, mask kink, fingering, cunnilingus, p -> v, damn this boy is nasty, happy ending??, not proofread

"What? You scared?" And there he is, with his shameless chuckle and shit eating grin as he holds up a small, white pill in between his fingers in front of you.

"I'm not fucking scared, Sukuna. I just don't feel like taking it." You spit, your intertwined arms tightening against your chest as your gaze is fixated on the TV.

You curse the day your mother said yes to marriage that brought Sukuna Ryomen into your life; everything was so always carnal about him, so evil and beckoning like a hurricane. Drugs and hookers are all that interest him, and now that your parents kicked him out, this embodiment of chaos wormed and settled his way into your apartment. The anxious knot in the pit of your stomach barely lets you sleep, dark circles growing under your exhausted eyes and the soft insides of your cheeks were bitten bloody and raw.

"Fine," he says finally, before putting the pill away into a small plastic bag - then he pulls out another. You pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance before you could even see what the bag contained, and you stay in the position while Sukuna's weight falls onto the couch next to you. The distinctive smell of weed begins to tickle your nose as he starts to grind the drug.

"Maybe you should slow down a little," you say, earning only a scoffing huff of air escaping through his grin.

"I'm making this for you. You look like shit. You should ease up a lil. " The wrinkles of malevolence fade at the corners of his dry lips and they're replaced with a slight pout of focus as Sukuna expertly rolls you a joint. At first you wish he had this type of patience for anything else in life, but soon you feel the inviting heat coming from his body, your gaze takes in the muscles that still show themselves across his hoodie. When your eyes travel back to his face, the red of his eyes and dilated pupils are already on you with the usual, knowing smirk tugging at his lips. "What are you looking at?"

"Did you take a fucking molly?"

"Of course I did. I wouldn't have offered the other one to my dear sis if I didn't try it first. Why? Did you change your mind?"

"No... I can literally feel your body is burning from here. This can't be good for you." He carefully adjusts the joint one more time before he licks the edge of the paper and seals it for good before handing it to you. Your fingers graze against his hand as you hesitantly take the cigarette. "This is the last time." you whisper, and he scoffs again; you said the same the other time and the time before that, and now you lit the tip again, inhale another doze of mary jane and a familiar numbness webs your mind.

There's one thing about weed that makes you both love and hate it; horniness. Desire begins to swell in between your legs, your liquid warmth rolling down onto your fingers as you lay on your stomach with porn on your screen right next to your head. You wish the big, muscular man on your screen was creeping up on you and fucking you behind instead of the actress as you lazily tease your clit, your soft moans and sighs escaping through your door that you only closed half way. Except in the peak of your high, you don't hold back your voice, each of your wishes and curses travel to the living room where Sukuna is still sitting on the couch, his pants feeling tighter with each second as he's looking at the black ski mask in his hands.

He wonders which one of you liked masks first. Did he start wearing it because he saw your browser history one time? Or did you search it up because you thought he looked nice in it? Or was it both? Perhaps you both like it because you don't have to actually face him, your stepbrother who knows exactly what type of porn you're watching now and what position you're in without him having to look at you. He knows exactly what you want and how you like it - ironically, part of this information came from your ex as Sukuna beat him up for playing with your feelings.

"Your bitch sister and her fucking masks." Your ex spat, Sukuna remembers, before his knuckles met the bridge of that fool's nose. Sukuna feels his cock twitching in response, silently humming as he finds the answer to his own version of the chicken or the egg question. His hand dives into his sweatpants to find the angry red, pre-cum soaked head of his dick before he begins to stroke it. Your lazy moans tickle his ear from the distance as he tries to match their rhythm, he hitches his breath to focus on you and his building orgasm. His mouth forms a silent O as he feels himself finishing, but then a frustrated whine comes from you.

You can't cum, he realizes. His grips on his cock and his mask weaken as he opens his eyes, his head feeling heavy against the headboard of your couch while he's staring at the ceiling. He should help you. He's the only one who can, after all.

With his mask finally on, he finds you still on your stomach, your legs half dangling off the bed, your panties on the floor, your cheek squished against your bed with one hand still playing with your wetness. He can't remember the last time he hesitated in his life, but this time, as he approaches you slowly, he's scared. Yet, with one hand holding his cock, his feet bring him closer to you. Right next to your bed. His heart pounds vigorously against his ribcage when his free hand touches your ass, his fingers digging into your flesh as you jolt away. He lets go of his member to cover your mouth, his body weighs you down as he presses his nose against your temple.

"Be a good girl, and stay still." He groans, ignoring your sorry attempts of hitting him before you give up. It amazes him how high you could get from a little pot; you don't even recognize his voice, nor his tattoos even though you're looking right at his arm as his fingers enter your pussy. His mouth drops ajar, his fingertips massage your sweetest spot from inside as his maroon eyes are staring at the back of your head. Flushed, disheveled, you look so adorable to him as your walls clench around his fingers strong enough that it even takes him some strength to pull them out of you after you came. "Do you want more, baby?"

"Ah, yes, please, don't stop, don't go" you cry eagerly, your own body betraying you as you push yourself against him, his hard abs sweaty against your back as you both lay on your sides. Despite your whines, his hand leaves your pussy to hold your leg. He coats the head of his dick with your liquid desire before he enters, earning a deep, long moan from each of you as his thickness continues to dive into you until his balls meet your clit. His eyes roll back, he pants as his masked forehead rests against the soft crook of your neck and he's holding onto your thigh for dear life to not cum right at this instant.

"Never had a pussy this good, huh?" you giggle, and you almost turn around to look him in the eye, but he quickly grabs a fistful of your hair to keep your face away from his before he nearly pulls his cock all the way out of you and meanly shoves it back inside. Sweat begins to bead on his body as he continues to roughly grind his hips against yours, the tip of his dick hitting your spot each time. He feels you riding through orgasm after orgasm, your walls sometimes painfully tightening around him as if your screams and moans aren't enough to make him cum alone.

"Fuck, ease up a lil or you'll break my dick," he laughs under his breath. Before he knows it, you're both holding still as you look into each other's widened eyes in shock.

"Ryo... Ryomen?" His heart nearly breaks in two. You've never seen Sukuna Ryomen's eyes filled with regret, but now that your voice shakes with betrayal, his brows furrow as if he's about to weep. He forgets the weight of your drunken state, and your many orgasm lull your panic.

"You always tell me to ease up. A little." You murmur, gingerly pulling yourself away from him to be able to turn around in your bed. To his surprise, you lift his mask up to free his lips; myriad sweat drops roll down the width of his neck. His jawline sits rigid with anxiety as you cup each side of his face, and your lips meet his. His eyelashes flutter, and a held back tear escapes his eye and gets soaked up by the mask as he pulls you on top of him, kissing you back with the hunger of years worth of yearning. Your hands explore his chest, his back, your fingernails leaving maroon trails next to his spine that makes his cock twitch against your ass. You laugh a little before breaking your kiss, both of your chests rising and falling rapidly. "I'd say I'm pretty relaxed now."

"Good," he laughs with you, his fingers wrap around your thighs before he throws you on top of his face. "I wish you could see how fucking gorgeous you are."

"Describe it to me with your tongue right there then, Ryo." A sudden, powerful smack on your ass is his response before his upper lip begins to tease your clit, the length of his tongue teases more sap out of you as it massages your walls. You slip the mask off of him entirely as he continues to eat you out, his pink hair so disheveled from all the sweat that your fingers nearly get stuck as you run through it. You feel yourself get lost in the red of his gaze while his hands encourage you from behind to ride his face faster, earning yourself another orgasm. "Fuuuck, you make me cum so fast. I love it."

"Oh, really? " He asks. He gently lifts you up again to lay you on your back, his thighs forcing your legs wide open as he enters you without hesitation.

"Oh, fuck yes." You moan before he kisses you once more, his tongue forcing its way deep into your mouth. The movement of his hips slam against you with such speed and vigor, you're certain he's going to break you while his lips pepper kisses at every inch of your pretty face. As his own orgasm edges closer, his sharp teeth sink into your shoulder and for a second, he almost paints your walls white.

His warmth leaves your body all too sudden, your pussy trembles at the loss of his cock while you still ride through your last orgasm and he's jerking himself above you, his opalescent liquid dirtying your tummy.

"Let me clean you up," Sukuna makes his way to grab a papertowel before he sits next to you. You watch him as he gently takes his cum off of your skin, the corner of his mouth slightly twitching in disgust at the sight of his own juices, yet he presses a slight peck onto the cleaned area before he stands up to throw the tissues away.

"How do you feel?" he asks, the red of his eyes appearing darker than usual as he's lies down next to you, your noses almost touching as he faces your way.

"I feel... great." You laugh, throwing your head back that he can see the angry red of the back of your throat. When you place your flushed cheek against his chest, he welcomes it with caresses across your back before he begins to play with a strand of your hair.

"Are you still high?" he asks, you hear his worry speading up his heart as he studies the ends of your hair and how gorgeous they look in the sunlight peering through your curtains.

"I doubt it, and judging by the fact you didn't cum inside me, I also highly doubt you're still high either."

"You forgot to take your birth control this morning," he says, and silence follows. For a moment, he thinks you've figured out how obsessed he really is with you and fear will take over the relationship between you, you will kick him out, blacklist his number, block him on every socials... his mind races.

"I don't care what our parents are gonna say. I love you, too" you say finally, and although you can't see or feel it, his mouth widen into a smile as he presses the lock of your hair against his lips.

[linkspooky]

YUTA WAS ALWAYS SELFISH

I was originally going to make this post the week the big twist with Yuta in Gojo's body happened, because of the massive subversion that it was. It was the kind of twist that made you question if everything you ever knew about the character was wrong. Namely, Yuta one of the most empathic sorcerers we see in the series - the character who seems to lack the selfishness of the other sorcerers that make up jujutsu society. The kid who fights with the literal power of love.

Was Yuta a monster to begin with and we just didn't see?

So ignore the clickbaity tagline, Yuta is one of my favorite characters I'm not going to start calling him a terrible person. Rather that Yuta is dismissed as a soft kid or a wifeguy, when he's actually more cunning and cutthroat than anyone gives him credit for.

If a sorcerer is nothing more than a con-artist, then if the talent for trickery he displayed in the Sukuna fight is anything to go by Yuta is a true sorcerer down to his bones. Yuta turning Gojo's body into a puppet seems like a massive twist, and almost out of character for Yuta who was so devoted to Gojo.

His earlier fight in the culling game even seemed to hint that Yuta was too soft and he didn't truly have the attitude to fight someone like Ryomen Sukuna who was the embodiment of a calamity.

These panels seemed like a prophecy that Yuta was doomed to fall short against Sukuna. That he could never live up to his title as the next Satoru Gojo, because unlike Gojo and Sukuna who can stand on the top alone Yuta clings to his loved ones.

Sukuna got to where he is by rejecting love. Sukuna is Sukuna because he's never needed anyone to satisfy him. So how can Yuta who needs to be surrounded by his loved ones at all time to validate him and tell him it's okay for him to be alive even compete?

However, even in JJK zero Yuta's love is questioned on whether or not it's as selfless and "pure" as it seems. To begin with, Maki calls him out early on for attracting bullies by playing the victim a lot. He pretends to be a good and innocent person put upon by his circumstances and bullies when really he doesn't want to help himself. Instead of standing up to the bullies he's always let Rika protect him and then condemned her for being a monster. He's let Rika take the blame for all the destruction, even though Rika is HIS cursed technique, created by HIS emotions, and is protecting him.

Yuta doesn't make any attempt to try to learn to control Rika, or even work with her, he just shrivels away in fear.

"You act like a good person, but it feels fake..." Yuta has always adopted the facade of a good person. He seems soft, socially anxious and withdrawn, even after he gains confidence as a sorcerer those traits don't go away because they're a part of his outward persona. Jung divides the psyche into two parts, the persona a mask that faces the world the parts of yourself that come out in your social interaction with people and then there's the shadow your repressed personality.

Yuta's shadow is a literal monster that declares her love for him and then expresses that love by violently destroying everything around him.

Yes, Rika initially contained the soul of someone else but Rika the curse was created by his technique, her power corresponds to his emotions, she comes from his shadow, and even after the real Rika passes on the Shikigami RIKA still remains completely under Yuta's control. Rika is Yuta, the embodiment of his twisted definition of love that would curse his loved ones to keep them by his side forever because he can't live without them. All of Rika's insane possessiveness? That's Yuta's too. Rika's violent overprotectiveness? That's Yuta.

How poetic is it really that Yuta and Rika are so codependent that Yuta's shadow, the other half of his personality is literally RIKA. Yuta cannot exist without love, and without someone too love, he's so terrified of being alone that he cursed Rika and then turned her corpse into a puppet after death. He uses his loved one as a weapon to fight his enemies.

If you think about it for more than five minutes Yuta's cursed technique and Rika has some seriously messed up implications, but it's hard too because as messed up as Yuta's love is it's still genuine.

Love is a curse, but in 236 Nanami speculates that sometimes curses can save people too, just like how Jujutsu Sorcerers use curses to fight and protect others.

So Yuta's love is a screaming, raging, overprotective monster, but it's also what give shim the motivation to fight ofr others. Yuta's love is a curse, but curses can save people too.

Yuta on the other hand isn't aware of his own darker nature most of the time.

The big twist in Jujutsu kaisen Zero is that just as Maki accused him of from the beginning, Yuta was playing the victim all along. He acted like Rika cursed him with her dying breath, but Yuta was the one who cursed her because he couldn't bear to live without her.

However, even this apology is a bit telling of Yuta's self-centered nature. He immediately turns everything into his fault and starts beating himself up over it. He doesn't look at anyone else's perspectives or that other people had a role to play. He deliberately ignores Rika's feelings on the past few years, which Rika is quick to point out for him.

This scene has a parallel later where Yuta ultimately, only thinks about himself first and foremost. In spite of wanting so badly to be surrounded by his loved ones, it's more about him loving them, and less about their feelings for him.

After all he's completely willing to commit a double suicide with Rika to protect his friends, ignoring the fact Rika doesn't want him to pass on just yet, and Maki, Inumaki and Panda wouldn't want him to disappear either. This scene has a direct parallel a year later in the fight against Sukuna when Yuta gives up his body.

Maki almost breaks character from her usual culling game arcs stoicity to fight and argue with Yuta to stop him form doing this, and Rika who one year earlier told Yuta to live a long life so she wouldn't have to see him on the other side so soon is reduced to screaming and sobbing while holding his dead body.

Yuta loves people, or at least he feels an intense amount of love for people, but he can be as self-centered as the other sorcerers we see in the story. Geto even points this out right away, that Yuta is selfish, that he's seeking self-affirmation first and foremost. He needs other people's approval, their love, to feel like he deserves to exist. He'll do anything to earn that love, and once he has it he'll do anything to protect it but it's ultimately for himself.

It manifests in Yuta's technique itself copy, which first and foremost requires Yuta to consume parts of his loved ones that can never be healed if he wants to keep their copied technique. Yuta gets stronger by literally eating his loved ones. We have canon confirmation that Yuta fed part of Inumaki's severed arm to Rika.

Yuta's cursed technique is to emulate the strengths of all of his loved ones copying them and making them a part of his oqn technique, because Yuta will take any shape and form in order to be loved. It's also the perfect technique for fighting as a part of a group, because someone like Sukuna will naturally assume that Yuta's technique STEALS instead of COPYING so he'll forget that the original still retains their technique.

Yuta's not only selfish and has a very selfish, overprotective love for others, but it's those exact qualities that make him an effective sorcerer strong in the area that Gojo is the weakest. Group coordination.

Gojo is in his element when he's alone, but Yuta is so codependent that he literally cannot exist unless other people are looking at him. His strength comes from the things he copies and takes from his friend, and he turned his loved one into a puppet to fight others. Is it really that surprising that this kid would willingly use Gojo's body as a weapon after death when that's literally what he did to Rika.

How telling is it that like Yuta learned that Rika was cursed by him, went so far to exorcise her spirit, and then after finally letting go after her spirit passed on he made a second Shikigami named Rika a few months later made out of the small remnants of cursed energy that Rika left behind as a gift after passing on. The dude is not over Rika, he's like, Geto and Gojo levels of not over Rika.

Yuta's cursed technique being the literal weaponization of his love and his loved ones makes him the best character for group coordination in the entire series. Yuta even adopts apsects of hakari's persona when making his plans against Sukuna since he decides to gamble at several key points in the plan.

Several of the key moments in the fight are all Yuta's plans, with some collaboration from Angel. He makes several bets too like Hakari would. The first being going to finish Kenjaku by himself and using both Todo and Takaba in conjunction to trick him. The second is the bet that he'd be able to make it back in time to rejoin the fight in case Higuruma's plan fail.

It was Yuta who let his own domain barrier down on purpose to let Sukuna think he had the victory so he would let his guard down and make it easy for Maki to ambush him. Something that also required perfect coordination between Yuta and Maki working in tandem with one another.

Yuta set up Hana to do one large jacob's ladder when Sukuna least expected it because he knew Sukuna would forget that his technique is COPY and not steal. He also made the biggest bluff which was leading Sukuna to believe that he fed Rika his last finger.

These aren't just good bluffs, they require near perfect coordination with your allies and taking several chances on them. Nobara might not have even woken up so the last finger / resonance Gambit was perhaps the biggest gamble. Maki and Yuta had to coordinate with each other well so Maki would be there when Yuta dropped the barrier. Yuta needed Takaba a relatively new and inexperienced sorcerer to survive against the threat that was Kenjaku, and he needed all of his allies to stay alive while he was prioritizing Kenjaku.

These are all plans Satoru Gojo would never have been able to pull off, because Gojo only ever relies on himself. If Yuta and Hakari had intervened in the Gojo and Sukuna fight then he would not have been able to go all out, whereas Yuta REQUIRES people collaborating with him in order TO GO ALL OUT.

This is Yuta. This is his strength. Yuta is nothing without love, so he takes on the forms of the people he loves and takes things from the people he loves in order to gain the power to protect him. Yuta copies everything from the people he loves, so is it really that much of a surprise that he'd become a monster just like Gojo.

In some ways, Geto and Yuuta were the same. Geto was too sincere. To someone like him, the reality that the world of sorcerers presented to him was just too cruel. ’…that in a world like this, I couldn’t be truly happy from the bottom of my heart.’ To live for the purpose of being yourself. And for that goal, Geto could only continue to pursue his twisted dream, drowning himself in the curse that lies in the gap between ideal and reality.

Love is a weapon for Yuta. Just like his curse technique can take any form, so does Yuta's love, and so does Yuta himself. Love always wins, and in order to do so Yuta will take any shape necessary, no matter how twisted.

Love is the worst curse of them all, and Yuta will become the worst monster of them all if it means protecting his love ones.

[just-a-creep-babe]

Are your requests still open? I'm not sure about your time zone so I hope it's ok if I ask how would you think relationships with the creeps would be realistically? Like how would Jeff, Masky, Ej, and Ben act if they were real and actually interested enough to date someone? I was just interested in your interpretation since I really enjoy how you write them! ✨

I feel like I’ve maybe gone over a few of these points before but I can’t remember for certain 😬

Either way, I hope none of these were too repetitive!! And tysm!! 🥰🫶

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

Jeff the Killer

It’s no secret this guy’s crazy egotistical

So as soon as he sees someone he’s interested in, it's like he just needs to have them

They’re an ego boost; a prized trophy that further proves he’s better than everyone else

He almost doesn’t see them as a full person, but more of a commodity

Really, it doesn’t matter whether or not they want the relationship—as far as he’s concerned, he knows what’s best for them

And, coincidentally, what's best for them is him

He's a super controlling partner

Literally the embodiment of your body, my choice

Part of him expects his s/o to pliantly conform themselves to his every whim and desire

But the other part secretly thinks it’s super hot when they talk back to him

He's always liked the feisty ones, and it gives him the perfect excuse to put them back in their place~

In terms of emotional intimacy, his partner really shouldn't expect much

Jeff mentally blocks all of that kind of stuff out, and he thinks people who are open about it are weak

At best, he'll ignore his partner's efforts to connect with him on a deeper level

And at worst, he'll belittle them and use their vulnerabilities against them as a manipulation tactic

So it's overall best to keep some amount of emotional distance from him, in all honesty

The plus side to dating Jeff is that he's super protective

To the point of it being suffocating, so it isn't all that much of a positive, but I digress

Since he sees his partner as his possession, and since he's very protective of his things, he'll be damn sure nothing bad happens to them

And everyone better damn well know that they're off-limits or he will remind them by carving it into their skin

At the end of the day, Jeff primarily wants sex, first and foremost

And secondly, he wants someone that'll inflate his ego; either by being a pretty piece of eye candy by his side or by constantly gushing over him and blowing smoke up his ass

Deep down, he does want someone to care for him—someone he could love and trust, and who would protect him as much as he'll protect them—but he's way too emotionally damaged to even admit he wants that

He definitely doesn't make it easy to love him

BEN Drowned

Honestly, a relationship with him would be relatively chill

All he really wants is someone to fuck and hang out and game with

He does have a dark side, which manifests as possessive/obsessive behaviors and manipulative tendencies, and a good dose of neediness to top it all off

But it's to be expected

And, really, if his s/o just behaves and gives him all of their love and attention, then it's not like they have anything to worry about, anyway

As long as they game with him every night for at least 3 hours, have sex with him a minimum of 4 times a week, answer his texts within 10 minutes, and never spend more time with someone else, then everything's fine

He's prone to spying on them through their devices, especially if they don't do the above-mentioned things to his liking

And he'll use anything in his arsenal to ensure that they stay wrapped around his little finger

Like I said, super needy and manipulative

He'll fuck with their self-esteem, their worldview, their perception of the people around them until they can't imagine living without him

He'll become their world; he wants their life to revolve around him and him only

And if things don't go his way, it'll only get worse

Much worse

He's not above eliminating anyone he's jealous of, or even isolating his partner until they don't have a choice but to accept him back into their lives

He will fully turn psycho if he, for whatever reason, thinks that he might be losing his partner

But until that time comes, until the relationship reaches that point, it'll all be smooth sailing

He's smart enough to know just the right amount to push things to keep the relationship afloat for as long as possible

Which, despite being one of the chillest partners on a surface level, quickly makes him one of the most dangerous ones when things go south

He'll stop at nothing to keep the person he likes

And his partner will never be any the wiser of the darkness that lurks behind his easy-going intentions

They better hope they never reach the tipping point that reveals his true nature

Eyeless Jack

He's actually the chillest creep to be in a relationship with

Unlike the others, Jack firmly clings to those remaining scraps of humanity within him

If he hadn't been transformed, he'd be a perfectly fine and well-adjusted member of society

So a relationship with him would be like, well, any other relationship with a normal person

He has his emotional hangups here and there, and he isn't perfect; he struggles with communicating his feelings and intentions, and he can close himself off when he's following down

But that's par for the course as far as relationship difficulties go

The biggest issue that'll come up that probably doesn't have a Buzzfeed article to help you out is dealing with his demonic side

But even then, he's gotten fairly good at controlling himself, so it'll never be too disruptive—as long as his partner keeps an open mind about the whole thing

He'll be more possessive, and he'll get jealous more easily, but he'll never lash out at his partner because of it

If anything, if he smells someone on his partner, he'll just want to scent them—so all he needs is some physical contact to reassure him

He can get insecure about his nature from time to time, but again, a bit of reassurance goes a long way

Honestly, the most dangerous thing about dating Jack is probably his urge to mark his partner

Marking a human has a few... complications, to say the least

He's naturally bound to get more possessive and much more sexually needy, which could lead him to injure his partner

But, you know, that's just part of the risks that come with dating a demon hybrid

A relationship with Jack has its ups and downs, which honestly might get more intense than a regular human relationship, but even then, a lot of humans are far crazier than Jack, even despite his nature

Even though he deals with some pretty powerful entities, he'll make sure his s/o is safe at all times—no one will ever be able to hurt them

And even though he's a cannibal, he'd probably be too protective of them to take a nibble out of them

Like, sure, he'd love to taste them—and he'd be willing to bet they taste divine—but even if they'd be open to trying it, he wouldn't want to risk it

Overall? 10/10, can not recommend dating this man enough

Masky

Masky's very hot and cold in a relationship

The stress of work combined with the physical and mental strain of being in Slender's proximity all the time does not make things easy for him

He's prone to lashing out, closing himself off, abusing whatever substance he can get his hands on, and generally spiraling out of control

Which does not make it easy for his s/o

Since Slender took an interest in him when he was still fairly young, he's almost always had symptoms of the Slender Sickness, so he's not super experienced with long-term relationships

Meaning that alongside dealing with his mood swings, his partner will also have to guide him through the ups and downs of dating

Which is just a whole extra set of difficulties his s/o will have to face

Being in a relationship with Masky really isn't easy

But the thing is, when things are good with him, they're really good

It's like he only knows how to operate on extremes; his lows are incredibly low and his highs are intoxicatingly high

When he's on a high, he'll make his partner feel like they're on top of the world

Nothing can get in the way of pleasing his partner; not time or money or even the boundaries of the law

He'll shower them with attention and affection, he'll take them on once-in-a-lifetime experiences—he'll make them feel truly heard and loved

Their connection will be like none other; he'll make them feel like they've conquered the world together

But when he's on a down, honestly, his partner might just be better off ignoring him until he gets better again

Which could take weeks or even months

But ultimately the distance will likely be better than being around him when he's going through it

Because although he isn't proud of it, he may get violent and even abusive without necessarily meaning to

And once he snaps himself out of it, he'll be upset to the point where it'll make him spiral even lower

And once he's over it, he'll be right back to gift and love-bombing them all over again because it's his way of apologizing and making sure he won't lose them

As great as things could be with him, and as addictive as he might get, his partner should keep some kind of distance from him—for their own sake

[0bticeo]

welcome to the show!

summary: vox sends you as a spy to the hazbin hotel. alastor decides to give him a show.

tw: voyeurism, biting, blood play, fingering, valentino mentioned. english isn't my mother tongue.

you're thrown in hell - quite literally. the fall from purgatory and its beasts was long, arduous, and painful.

you've led an ordinary life. woken up. worked. slept. repeatead. same old decaying matter as everything else. you didn't think too much of it, of course not. you were twenty something and rising slowly, steadily in your company as an esteemed lawyer. memento mori didn't ring a bell. maybe it should've.

now you're in hell, and you're burning with sheer, unbridled rage, because how dare they throw you in there? (you're all in hell for a reason. all of you, fangs and bad intentions bare to the world.)

you take up your old job at vox tech. lawyer for a corrupt company. old habits die harder than you do. there, there's the thrill of probing the opposing companies and sinking your fangs into them, corrupt little fox with a too wide smile on your face.

what you gather is this: velvette's sense of fashion involves too much purple, valentino is the embodiment of everything you hate and vox... vox is obsessed with the radio demon. he's disappeared not too long after being asked to join the vees. you'd know, you're the one who wrote the contract he refused to sign. bastard.

could've been fine, really. but they work you to the bone and treat you as little less than a glorified secretary. when valentino throws the cup of coffee you brought him to a board meeting with the other executives of the company, you slam the door on your way out and don't look back.

it goes like this: you've been in hell for a while, and you're done playing the part of the sinner. so you tell charlie morningstar when she greets you at the hazbin hotel.

she accepts you, welcomes you with, out of all things, a song. too much trouble for dear old you.

"nonsense! everyone deserves to be given their rightful importance!"

that one hit close home.

you don't have the time to thank her before she's introducing you to the staff and the rest of the hotel.

vaggie, staring you down with a suspicious eye, fingers itching to reach for her spear. ah. an angel. fascinating.

angel dust. you have to thank him for being here. after you murder him for calling you an enticing little vixen and winking at you.

husker. former overlord. sold his soul to the radio demon in a bad game of poker.

your hair stand at the back of your neck. static crackles in the air. your ear twitches. alastor's entered the game.

"alastor, it's a pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure my dear!"

he brings your gloved hand to his lips. even through the thin leather, you can feel the warmth of his breath, the press of his teeth like a warning.

his grin deepens when you introduce yourself in turn. a glimmer of recognition flashes in his eye.

shit.

**

you've always liked to cook. there's something about the glimmering edge of a knife cutting thin slices of meat that appeases you. tonight, you crave some rabbit.

somewhere in the kitchen, the clock ticks the minutes away, time bleeding out. doesn't matter when you have eternity to atone for your sins. 

the watch at your wrist flashes. 2:37. of course, insomnia had to follow you down to hell. it served you at voxtech, back when you were pouring over contracts and meaningless paperwork.

you make your way towards the fridge, hoping to god you'll find something to satiate your appetite.

"ah, feeling peckish my dear?"

you startle.

alastor.

you turn, back facing the counter, resisting the urge to bare your fangs. there he is, slithering out of darkness, a spectre in red. you wonder if it's a reminder of the blood he's shed.

"what do you want?" you snarl.

he laughs, static buzzing in your ears. you blink. when your eyes open, he's inches away from your face, craning your neck towards him - he's tall, that fucker.

"why so aggressive, little vixen?"

his fingers dip down your shoulder, down your arm, until they close on your wrist. his teeth press against the bracelet of your watch, scraping the skin beneath, drawing a drop of blood. the screen glows, a faint blue light in the penumbra of the kitchen.

your breath catches in your throat. he's gorgeous, blue light draped over his hair like threads of moonlight.

he hums, the vibration settling low in your gut.

"i just want a little taste..."

you shiver at that. at the way he looks at you like he wants to devour you, consume you whole. at the way his tongue presses on the cut, lapping at the blood. you tense, biting back a soft, needy little sound.

his leg pushes your thighs apart. you don't realise you've been humping against the warmth of him until his hand settles on your hip, claws digging into your skin hard enough to draw blood.

"behave, little spy."

you laugh at that, baring your throat.

"was it really that obvious?"

he hums, clawed finger trailing down the column of your flesh, pressing against the jugular. he can feel your pulse, staccato little thing beating wildly as you look up at him, lips parted with want.

his smile stretches, impossibly wide.

"vox wouldn't have let his precious little lawyer go." his claws tap against your watch. "and i'd be a fool not to get a taste."

he kisses you. he kisses you, teeth nipping at your mouth until you can feel static against your tongue, until you arch your back against him. you whine, claws digging in his shirt, eager for more. of course, he pulls away. bastard.

"patience, my dear. all good things come to those who wait."

you scoff.

"because seven years and s'more weren't enough?"

a pause. his lips trail down your throat.

"i suppose that's fair."

he bites you, teeth sinking at the junction of your throat and shoulder. you keen, a breathless moan of his name as you feel him grind against you. you shouldn't let this happen. shouldn't revel in the warmth of him, body going limp in his grasp. shouldn't drag his hand towards your aching core, let him press his fingers against your slit and chuckle at how wet you are. you can't let him finger you on the kitchen's counter, can't mewl like a wanton whore.

you do.

you do, his name like a prayer on your lips, hips stuttering, desperate for release. you feel him against you, lapping at your flesh like a starved hound. when he lets you go, there's a spider-web thin string of blood connecting him to your shoulder.

the sight of him takes your breath away.

there he is, eyes half lidded, looking at you. there he is, blood, your blood, dripping down his lips, his chin.

he leans closer, watching you, the way your shiver at his every touch, as his free hand digs in the tender skin of your breast and sinks into the flesh.

oh.

something snaps in you - you're on fire, head thrown back in a silent cry of his name.

on your wrist, the watch flashes blue. alastor grasps your wrist in his hand, bringing it up. it's easy for vox to see you. you, disheveled, red fur a mess of sweat and blood, panting, cheek pressed against alastor's chest. you, nightgown hiked up to your hips. you, legs wrapped around alastor's waist, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder to muffle your moans as he drills his cock into you.

vox groans at the sight, pants growing too tight.

the radio demon smiles.

"hope you enjoyed the show, old pal!"

[oncloudten]

if he's a serial killer, then what's the worst that could happen to a girl who's already hurt?

ethan landry x fem!reader. scream 6 spoilers. cw: choking, mentions of sex, murder, slight dirty talk.

read part ii. here

"get the fuck off me, you sick fuck!" you managed to get out, barely breathing.

he had you completely fooled. the boy with the puppy dog eyes and the sweetest smile. every horror film has a sweet little dorky cliche virgin, and he chose to embody that role perfectly. ethan landry.

though, the virgin part wouldn't be true. and you have yourself to thank for that.

who would have thought? well, maybe mindy. oh god. she'll kill you for this– if they don't first. if he doesn't.

all those nights you spent with ethan, all those days. everytime you'd tell tara and mindy about him and your massive crush on him, and then eventually the friends-with-benefits thing you had going on, she'd try to offer you her enthusiasm and be the supportive best-friend that she usually is to you, but it would always be followed by heartfelt speeches of her telling you to "be careful" and that she doesn't trust him. she never did like him from the start.

but you weren't worried about mindy right now, you couldn't. not when ethan had such a tight grip around your neck, and your friends were somewhere in this building being chased by his family.

"hmm? i thought you liked it when i did this, princess." ethan smirks, trailing his knife on your cheeks.

asshole. of course he'd say that. because why wouldn't he? he knew everything about you. you had given yourself to him completely– in every way. something so private being used against you– someone so... wicked knowing such intimate and delicate things about you, that no one else does. you can't process anything. "t-that means nothing."

he let go of your neck, but only slightly to stop choking you. he's towering over you, pushing you up against a wall. "didn't seem like that a few nights ago when you were begging for it, you dirty fucking slut."

"fuck you."

"oh, i'd love to. but i got my hands bloody full right now. oh and, been there, done that." he says, proudly. there is something so sinister about his smile. his killer smile. "come on, you sweet dumb thing. lighten up a bit, won't you? you look like you've seen a ghost."

"if you're going to kill me, just fucking do it. why the fuck bring me here? kill me and get it over with." there's no telling what he's going to do. he has you completely isolated from sam and tara. and chad is gone— you found ethan when you were forcibly seperated when ghostface showed up, and it immediately clicked.

"oh no no no no no, you sweet pretty thing. i love sticking things in you, but i would never stick a knife in you. never hurt you. well, i mean, kill you. it's your friends that we're after." he pauses for a bit. "well that wouldn't be right to say either. it is sam and tara that we want," he inches closer to you, "but it just feels so fucking good to kill. so fucking good baby."

"you're sick."

"and you love me. isn't that what you were telling mindy and quinn a few weeks ago? hmm?"

fuck. what are the fucking chances of that wicked witch being his literal fucking sister? "that was before i found out you are the one who is actively trying to kill my best fucking friends, you dimwitted fucking asshole!"

he lets out a low chuckle. "if it makes you feel any better. you're the closest thing i'll ever get to love in this world. i do love you. well, god, did i love fucking you. y'gave me the best sex of my life. but it was more than that."

"stop. just stop. let me go." you beg, "let me go please, ethan. i'll just go- just my friends, my- chad, please."

"i can't do that, angel. my job is to keep you away from them. protect you, even. see, my lovely sister thought it'd be funny to kill you. claims you're just baggage. that it would hurt sam and tara the most because you're practically the closest thing they have to family. but i can't let that happen. so this is the next best thing."

and then all you see is black.

[fairyhaos]

what "morally [x]" are seventeen?

notes: like morally ambiguous, morally grey, morally good, etc. this is quite possibly the weirdest brainrot ive had but this was soo fun to write :>

disclaimer: this is just for fun and im not trying to analyse their "real self". this is kinda ab their game personas yk !!

masterlist

seungcheol

morally flexible. for him it's less about following his morals and more about winning. morals are just human conceptions, and anyway, people can and do change their morals all the time!! but on the other hand, success and victory lasts forever

jeonghan

morally curious. he recognises what things are morally correct, understands why it's moral to do something, and then sits there for a moment and thinks about whether he wants to do that or if he wants to ignore morals completely. sometimes it's fun to do the wrong thing.

joshua

morally ambiguous. like a grey sky that looks like it'll rain any second, no one knows which way joshua will turn bc he's just so unpredictable. it's not even a matter of being bored. sometimes he does the wrong thing Just Because He Can

junhui

morally clairvoyant (maybe). no one quite understands why he's sticking so fiercely to this one principle, but as the game progresses, it soon becomes clear that it's actually the right thing to do. it's like he knew what to do all along. or he's just lucky.

hoshi

morally chaotic. he's like if morally grey was more colourful and more vivid. he's neither good, nor bad, nor that secret third thing—he's actually the fourth option. the one with flamingo feathers and sequins that hide a truly crazy mind with the most unhinged morals ever

wonwoo

morally neutral. he's just too tired for this, man. also it's funny to look at the side of the morally ambiguous people and watch the weird things they do, even if he doesn't want to be a part of it. he likes observing the side of the angels and the side of the devils.

woozi

morally grey. woozi is peak morally grey bc he does things which can be seen as good and he also does things which can be seen as immoral. but at the end of the day, he's neither truly good nor truly bad. he's just woozi.

minghao

morally secure. he knows what his morals are, and he sticks to them, no matter what. everyone else can do what they like, just so long as they don't try to make him do anything that goes against his own morals. literally the embodiment of "you can kill someone, it's okay, just don't tell me where you hid the body"

mingyu

morally targeted. it doesn't matter what his morals are bc they always end up getting questioned into oblivion bc his hyungs like (affectionately) bullying him like that. are his morals good? are they bad? it doesn't even matter. they're getting targeted no matter what

dokyeom

morally good. he could not be immoral if he tried. even if yoon jeonghan is turning the world on its head during a game of mafia, there's still a part of him that feels like something isn't quite right. his mind may not know what's happening but his heart is still on the side of the angels

seungkwan

morally vocal. veryy noisy when it comes to voicing his morals and his opinions on how things should be done. purely because he gets theeee most upset when jihan play tricks during games bc there!!!! are!!!! rules!!!!!!! and his hyungs aren't following them >:(((

vernon

morally rigid. vernon is just a Really Good Guy, and i feel like that's often overlooked bc his opinions r sometimes really really crazy. doesn't mean he isn't good, though, and he's sticking to what he believes in literally no matter what happens. the world could tell him he Has to do something else and my man will be like "thanks but no thanks ✌"

chan

morally exhausted. he doesn't know what the most moral thing is anymore and honestly he's too tired to figure out what it is. everything is too noisy and too confusing bc up is down and left is right and what good is now bad, and he's just looking forward to going home and leaving the chaos of his friends behind

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[coquettetoji]

i need more bf armin if you can please🥹🥹

i’m such a hoe for this man so like

QUESTIONS WITH BF ARMIN 🎀

warnings: literally just gonna make you hate couples in love, i’m nauseous reading my own writing bc i want this so bad. a little suggestive but doesn’t get into it much

context: y/n, as armin’s lovely girlfriend, asks him a series of questions in her own little interview that she records on her phone.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

it was your average Tuesday night, and you with your ever so spontaneous ideas wanted to sit down with your boyfriend of 2 years— Armin, to put him to the test on a multitude of semi-serious but mostly ridiculous questions.

you take in a deep overdramatic sigh, staring at your boyfriend with a dead-set look in your eyes “so, armin.” you cross your arms in front of you as you sit criss cross apple sauce straddled in his lap, with a small stack of flash cards held in your hands. your phone was stood up by a box of paper tissues off to the side, showing both you and your boyfriend in the phone screen recording.

“yes, baby?” he answers you with a soft dazed smile, his pupils dilated staring at you intently, hands on your waist drawing small circles waiting for you to ask him the oh-so-serious questions, he shouldn’t be scared. after all, they’re just some questions, right?

you stare at him with a glare trying to look intimidating, “question one…” you trail off dramatically.

Armin stares at you with a stifled smile, trying to remain serious just for your sake and to make you happy for this little TikTok trend you want to participate in again. He leans slightly forward to place a small chaste kiss on your cheek.

“that was not part of the question, i told you to be serious.” you huff jokingly but he just smiles brightly up at you.

“i can’t help it, you’re right here in my reach and you’re just so- ugh..” he emphasizes with a fake swoon and a chuckle.

“okay, AGHEM-”

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

question number 1:

“what pet names do you call me the most? n’ what’s the favorite name that I call you?” you say sweetly. your eyes bore into his awaiting his answers while clutching onto your flash cards.

his fingers lightly tapped the sides of your legs, occasionally tracing small circles dazedly as he thought about it.

“i call you baby the most. i dunno what else. there’s sweetheart, angel, honey. momm-” he trails before you cut him off and stare at the camera with wide eyes. you clear your throat slightly side eyeing the camera before returning your view to him and his stupidly adorable dazed smile.

“OKAY! and what’s your favorite name that i call you, minnie?” you ask him with a tilt of your head, reaching a hand out to play with the tufts of his blonde hair.

he huffs, softly dropping his head onto your chest while wrapping his arms around you tighter, squeezing gently.

“mmm, i like everything you call me. but i think that one time i was uh like panicky and stressed and you called me baby, my heart kinda j-just like.. skipped. ya know? like what are they called— heart palpitations? in that situation it just made me feel really good.” he tilts his head up at you, his chin propped up, slightly rambling.

in this moment he really just looked like the embodiment of the cutest golden retriever ever.

you smile at him, “you’re just adorable aren’t you?” he reacts to this with a small blush forming on his cheeks shaking his head side to side slightly.

“y/n/n you have to cut off some parts of this video. i ramble too much when it comes to you i just start rapid firing shit out like i’m rapping.”

“it’s for comedic purposes. shush.”

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

question number 2:

“if you would rather have me with the personality of your ex, or your ex with my body. who would you choose to date? choose carefully and think about what you say before you say it.” you tease him.

his eyes widen slightly as if you had just asked him the most life threatening question ever (honestly to him it could be).

“w-well..” he buffers. he looks up at the ceiling in deep thought or as if it’s gonna have an answer written out on it.

“i would remain single until you return back to normal.” he nods, seemingly assured that his answer was the right one.

you stare blankly at him, then at the camera, then back to him. “the audience is going to have to decide on that one.” you assert.

at this armin’s eyebrows furrow confusedly and his arms wrap around you tighter. “w-what? baby i don’t have much to work with here for an answer.” he sasses.

“you could’ve just said you would- you could like- well in the sense that.. yeah you’re lowkey right.” you shrug sheepishly.

he rolls his eyes jokingly, “can i ask you a question now?”

“if this is another question like gay son or thot daughter im not answering it.”

he laughs slightly, “no no no. it’s something different.”

you nod for him to continue, “what is it then?”

“uhhh can we turn off the camera for this one?” he looks at the camera quickly before returning his eyes back to you.

your eyebrows raised at his shy question, his gaze adverting from you and staring down at your his shirt that you are wearing.

“whisper it to me.”

pst pst pst whisper whisper whisper

you stare blankly at him after pulling the side of your head away from his face with a rosy pink blush now surfacing on your cheeks.

“s-so you see.. i can not answer that…?” you buffer just as he did earlier.

he giggled softly at your confuzzled expression and he squeezed your leg gently with his hand.

“mm see how you can’t answer that one either, angel?” he grinned smugly tilting his chin up at you slightly.

“oh shut up.”

(news flash: he asked you what position he hits it best in 😸)

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

question number 3:

you grab your phone, quickly clicking the .5 button as the phone camera zooms out in view, now causing armin in the view of the camera to look a bit—stretched?

he stares up at the camera, the angle making his puppy eyes just like that much larger and cuter in the process.

“can we not film me from this angle, baby? i don’t get to look at you properly with the phone in the way.” he huffs slightly.

“no.”

“yes ma’am.”

“anyways, next question and i want you to think about this in depth.” you nudge him

he hums along, “i’m listening.”

“what made you realize you loved me?” you ask him deeply.

this question causes armins mind to suddenly blank over a tad bit just to reminisce about the first moments he met you.

he stares up into the camera as you try and withhold a laugh at how stupidly cute the .5 angle is making him look.

flashback:

it was junior year of high school, and at your lovely age of 17.

the teacher was passing back the recent scores from your latest exams. high school was definitely hard but you always seemed to manage with your high grades, expectations, and your extremely competitive nature.

the only person who seemed to have always come close to you or beat you was Armin Arlert.

*insert sparkle noises here*

yeah, he was a little infuriating when it came to competitive aspects but his pretty face lets him get away with it—but definitely not when it comes to you right?

the teacher came around the corner and placed your paper upside down on the surface of your desk. feeling confident with the results, you flip it over to reveal the high score of 98 percent on the white parchment. with a giddy smile, you turn directly behind you in your chair to come face to face with Armin.

only to see him already staring directly at you with a dimpled smile.

“98. what did you get, arlert?” you boast to him while holding up your paper.

“really? i can’t believe it after your poor performance last time.” he teased still grinning at you.

“i got a 90 last time, that’s not even poor.” you roll your ey at him with your mouth slightly agape. “what did you get if you’re so smart?” you huff.

he hummed, his glasses shifting slightly down the bridge of his nose as he leaned slightly forward closer to you in his seat, “a 94, y/n/n.” however his paper remained flipped over and his forearm rested on top of it.

you glanced down at his desk where his veiny arms lay upon the paper, your tried to squint to see some type of number in red but his arms covered it.

you brushed this off, instead focusing on how you scored higher than him as an even bigger smile now appeared on your face. “hm, better catch up next time, arlert.” you nudge him.

“you already know i will, princess.” he nods as his he leaned his head on his left hand looking into your eyes.

you turn around in your seat and face back towards your desk as the school bell rings to signal the next period of the school day. “i’ll see you tomorrow, might wanna get back to studying a little more.”

you pack up your bags, proudly stuffing the 98% exam in your bag. zipping up your backup, you smile, happily leaving the classroom oblivious to Armin’s lovingly proud gaze, as well as his now-flipped-over exam on his desk that revealed a 100%.

flashback over

armin looked up into your eyes with you still in his lap, disregarding the camera shoved into his face.

“i think the moment i realized i would do anything to make you happy, even lie and make myself look worse, is when i just knew i would do absolutely anything for you.” he gushed.

“like you didn’t even know i lied about half my scores until like a year ago. i just loved seeing you smile because you’re so just— ahh.” he hums as he throws his head back slightly and dramatically with a toothy grin.

you cup his cheeks in your hands as you trail your eyes over all his features. “i’m honored that if anyone was my academic rival, it was you, blondie.”

“oh stop it.” he gushed. “but yeah, i just knew when i just felt that weird feeling in my chest every time i saw you happy.”

your heart felt as if it was going to explode, sure you’ve been with armin for a solid 2 years. but this has never really ever been brought up.

“and i also realized when i had the urge to throw jean against a wall when he was flirting with you.”

“okay well atleast chivalry isn’t dead.” you sigh, armin laughs before reaching up slightly to place a gentle peck on your lips.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

let’s just say the peck led to other things because your lips now were noticeably swollen and your hair was messy from armin’s hands running through it.

you pick up your phone camera that was absentmindedly discarded when the two of your guys’ small peck definitely did NOT escalate into a make-out session **blame armin.

“so g-guys.” you take a second to collect your breath. “that’s some questions that my boyfriend answered. this definitely will get me banned if i post all the clips but they will be edited so..” you glance at armin who drags his eyes from up and down your body.

“yeah. i gotta go.” you quickly blurt before clicking the end record button then immediately drop your phone back onto the couch, crawling back into armin’s lap and continuing where you left off.

“love you, love you, love you.” armin mumbles against your lips, clutching his arms tighter around your middle.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

notes —

hi guys!! lets just pretend it hasn’t been 2 months since i last posted. i’m reading requests and im gonna try and put out as much as i can before spring break ends. thank you for all the love and support <3

also armin as a hot nerd is just everything i’ll ever need.

[suiana]

✎ yandere! loser headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― stalking, manipulation, delusional yandere, mentions of p0rn, slight nsfw, stockholm syndrome (?) etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

✎ yandere! loser who's basically a shut in, rarely coming out of his apartment except for compulsory lessons at university. he's a huge loser, shit talking others during games, messy apartment, dark eye bag circles, always ordering delivery for his food... he's practically the embodiment of the word loser! if it weren't for his rich parents he would not survived a day past his 18th birthday.

✎ yandere! loser who sees you as his salvation, the only hope in his dark life. through your streams he found purpose in his life - to be with you. and when he found out you went to the same university as him? he just knew that you were meant to be with him! why else would you speak his username so lovingly every time he donates to you?

✎ yandere! loser who's obviously a big virgin. I mean, what would you expect from a guy who hasn't held a girl's hand since he was 5? plus he doesn't even come out of his apartment! the most experience he has is from the pornography he used to watch. don't worry! he doesn't watch it anymore! because now all he has to do is imagine you sucking him off and he cums instantly. he's a true loser. but he's your loser, yours! :D

✎ yandere! loser who stalks you both online and physically. at this point he knows more about you than all of your friends do, maybe even you yourself! he's also the type of guy to like something you posted 69 weeks ago just because he liked how you looked in it. but does one post from long ago matter when he literally spam likes everything you post?

✎ yandere! loser who tries to rizz you up with tips and tricks he read online from sites like Reddit. he read all those success stories in the Reddit comment section so surely it must work out for him too, right?! wrong. because when he tried to pin you against a wall and call you 'baby', you only snorted in laughter, calling him funny and walking off with your friends. why didn't it work?! it was from user @/masterrizzler3000 on Reddit so it should've worked! he's sad now :(

✎ yandere! loser who isn't actually that bad looking. if he put in some more effort into his appearance he would've been a solid 10/10 in your opinion. but unfortunately he doesn't and that brings him to a 6.5/10. don't worry, there's something about his loser self that makes him cuter :) and that's when you decided to give him a chance and go out with him. best worst mistake of your life.

✎ yandere! loser who's actually a pretty good gaslighter and manipulator, so good that you actually agreed to date him. though he isn't aware that he's actually manipulating you so to him, you're falling for him because you genuinely love him. looks like religiously watching monster and death note worked for him. and that kids, is the story of how I (21m) landed myself a solid 100/10 with my loser self!!! -him, probably.

✎ yandere! loser who believes wholeheartedly that you and him are meant to be. sure, you may be a little more lifeless than you used to be, he's not sure why, but you love him! you tell him that every morning after you wake up in his bed! the soft 'i love you's' and 'im yours' from your sweet mouth are practically proof that you love him too, right?! fret not, for he loves you too ♡

✎ "please! I'll die without you-! you... you won't let that happen, would you? haha... of course you won't. you love me after all ♡"

[mysterycitrus]

Do you have any opinions or hot takes about Alfred Pennyworth?

im gonna upset the alfred girlies but my hot take for alfred is that he's bruce's most dedicated enabler and often hides behind being "the help" to disguise the fact that yeah, historically he has just stood by and let bruce do horrible things.

a lot of that is like... bruce is his kid, and alfred is bruce's father, but also they rarely vocalise it because alfred is british + bruce is bruce + would it be seen as a disservice to thomas wayne, whose death was a key instigator in bruce's path to becoming batman? i also think that alfred raising bruce in the wake of his parent's murder was always going to change how alfred held bruce accountable for the things he did. how can u be hard on a kid who's just lost everything, even when that kid goes on to hurt others, including his own kids? like bruce is alfred's son, and alfred loves bruce more than anyone else, including alfred's own children (irony).

that doesn't make him a bad person necessarily but it does explain a lot of his actions. sometimes, sure, he'll shout at bruce, and storm away, or be silently disapproving, but ultimately he'll still stand on the sidelines and watch rather than acting in the moment. it's easier to express disapproval after the fact than actually confront bruce and force some kind of change. it's easier for alfred to excuse his own behaviour this way, too. he'll lecture bruce about his sleeping habits, his protein intake, but it isn't common that he goes against what bruce actually wants. that maintains their relationship equilibrium.

i also think examining alfred's relationships with bruce's kids is interesting, especially since there's this pervasive idea that jason is alfred's favourite which is.... lol. the dynamics of dick's time as robin are always gonna be a lil funky as a result of its 40+ year timeline but both alfred and bruce both refer to dick as their boy. dick is a grandson figure, sure, but he's also like... alfred's other son in a lot of ways, as much as he is bruce's. alfred was that other parent when dick was growing up. and with that in mind, he also relies on dick as a support to emotionally regulate bruce.

that doesn't mean alfred only cares about bruce, obviously, but every successive person who joins the family is going to be tempered through the lens of bruce is alfred's son, and bruce is also alfred's employer. clearly bruce doesn't think of him that way, but it's still pervasive. that relationship will always have the foundation of a butler raising the traumatised, angry child of the couple who hired him, and then watching that child grow into someone who is the literal embodiment of my way or the highway. i imagine there's some guilt there. wondering what could have been prevented if he'd raised his voice.

[im-poe-dameron]

THE HEART OF A SHIP

a/n: this fic is a result of wine and rewatching the force awakens. honestly my brain always short circuits whenever oscar isaac comes on screen. so i had to do something. it was meant to be small, but i literally couldn't stop writing so it became this. it's an idea that has been lingering in my head for awhile, i just had to let it simmer for a bit. and now it's fully cooked.

summary: you and poe were inevitable. two asteroids set on a course to crash into one another. a celestial event that would happen whether you wanted it or not. you just never expected it to happen so soon.

word count: 3.4k+

pairing: poe dameron x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, alcohol consumption, love confessions sort of??, poe being romantic as fuck, p in v sex, guided masturbation, biting, sex in an x-wing, sex in a public place, unedited but we live and die by the fucking pen.

Intoxicating.

That was the only way you’d describe him. The only word that ever did him justice. He was the human embodiment of an Antakarian Fire Dancer. You got hammered on it one year after two glasses of the amber liquid, proceeding to forget half the night yet eager for more. Nothing could describe the man before you better. It simply wouldn’t do him justice. He was the itch beneath your skin that you could never satisfy, the reason you stood there now.

A glass of that amber liquid in both hands.

He’d disappeared from the celebration. An hour in from congratulations and happy faces, you watched him leave when no one was looking. And you did nothing to stop it. You knew he wasn’t one to relish in the joys of battle well done. Always intent on focusing towards the next thing—the next fight. It’s how you knew Leia would make him General, why he was so good at leading, at keeping the people he loved safe.

“Leaving without saying goodbye is rude, you know.”

He jumped slightly where he stood, his back to you, a holopad in one hand and a tool in the other. Of course he’d be here, fixing his X-Wing in silence. His own little ritual. You couldn’t count how many times you found him here after a fight, finalizing the last few checks before he caught some sleep. If he slept at all. Poe always seemed to be on the move no matter the time of day—a constant in the Resistance even when everyone else seemed to have lost faith.

“I said goodbye,” he joked, head turning slightly to see you come around, the holopad getting traded for a glass. “Just couldn’t see you in the crowd.”

You smiled. “You’re a shit liar Dameron.”

“I know.” He took a sip, winced, and laughed—the sound practically lighting you up inside. Igniting you like a fucking lightsaber.

“What’s the damage report?” 

“Nothing I can’t fix.” He glanced back at the scraped up hunk of metal he loved more than anything. The amount of care he put into keeping her going was admirable—if a little insane at times.

But he was right. The damage was nothing he couldn’t fix.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” The smile still played on your lips, eyes alight and aiming to start something you wanted him to finish.

Poe caught onto it quicker than you expected. He could see it before you followed him out of the celebration. A promise that lingered in the air from months of longing looks and timid words. Something inevitable and real. So much so that you were willing to bet everything that he felt exactly the same way you did.

You wanted each other. That was clear from day one. But doing something about it became difficult when war was a constant and lives were put in peril on the daily. Poe didn’t want to leave you broken beyond repair if he never made it back. Just as you didn’t want to do the same to him.

The fucked up thing about it though was Poe would mourn you either way. He’d live his life half a man if you never graced him with your presence again. If you weren’t around to smile at him from across rooms and laugh at his shitty jokes. He was pretty sure he’d already started. Being away from you was like a poison he constantly had to take, a pain he didn’t want to endure. And if it were up to him…he’d choose you every time.

No matter the consequences.

“You ever been in an X-Wing before?” he asked, trying to see past the bits and pieces of the ache that hurt you both.

You rolled your eyes and Poe felt his chest tighten. “You know I haven’t. I’m not pilot material.”

“Sounds like bantha shit to me starlight.”

The name you’d heard so many times before echoed differently to you now. You wanted to break through its meaning and find the promise within. The antidote to this fucking ache that stuck to your chest. You wanted to rip it out and grind it up. You wanted to finally take what you desired, relish in the feel of calling him yours without the pain of knowing what came next. The both of you were trying to save your emotions—protect yourselves—but there was no use.

Poe had found a home in your heart and he was there to stay.

“Come with me.”

When it came to him you had no choice but to listen, following dutifully behind in a haze of want. He climbed up the ladder on the side of his ship, plopping down into the seat with the grace of a pilot who’d done it a million times before. The movement now muscle memory at this point. Whereas you clambered up—buzzed on one drink—nearly falling into the cockpit. He grabbed your arm at the last minute, helping you slowly maneuver your way in, until you were perched on this lap.

The seat was barely big enough to fit him let alone you as well. And yet…you’d never felt more comfortable. He pulled you back slightly, hands pressed to your hips, chest snugly placed against your back. With every intake and exhale of breath, you felt him move. Felt his body shift. If you focused, you knew you would be able to feel his heartbeat. The rhythmic thump you’d grown accustomed to.

“Now—“ He precariously balanced his glass on the dash. “Your hands go here.” Covering your hands with his, he showed you how he’d position himself if he were flying. The cold touch of the buttons and knobs beneath your fingers sent electricity up your spine. “These are to shoot.” Another shift. “And this is to aim.”

You sucked in a breath. “Seems complicated.”

“Not at all.” His fingers slid up your arm, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. You tried to remember how to take a single breath. “You just have to understand how the ship works. How she moves, what she likes.”

Your breath hitched, body leaning into him more, and finally you felt it. The wall holding both of you back crumbled to the ground. All that remained now was the will to finally do something about it. So you let his hands guide you, watching in anticipation as they moved to your own body, pressing your palms into your stomach.

“There’s always a heart of a ship,” he murmured, moving your hand down. “A pilot guiding the way.”

“Poe…”

"After all, we've got to guide the ship back home." A soft whimper left your lips, your nails digging into the meat of your thighs to contain yourself. If the cockpit of his ship wasn't so fucking small, you had no doubt you'd be spread on his lap, lips connected to his already.

He grinned, his lips brushing across the back of your neck. “For me…” He stopped right above the hem of your pants, your fingers aching to finally delve down further. “That’s always been you.”

The alcohol had all but burned out of your system from how warm you were. His touch guiding yours seemed to have lit something in the base of your stomach, causing it to spread outwards. And you needed more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed your hand beneath the coarse fabric of your pants. The feeling of him cupping your mound—using you all the while—sent a jolt across your body; a soft moan falling free past your lips.

“Maker starlight,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire. “You’re so fucking wet.”

He wasn't wrong. You could feel yourself dripping the longer he spoke, his words affecting you more than you anticipated. Ever since you first met, Poe always held a power over you. A reminder that no matter how many times you tried to rid yourself of him, no matter what you did...he would remain burned into your soul. He'd be part of you until you drew your final breath in this galaxy.

"It's cause of you," you gasped, your fingers and his sliding through your slick. Running along the lips of your cunt, skimming past your clit entirely. "Oh—"

The scrape of his teeth along your neck nearly did you in entirely, the plea hanging off the tip of your tongue in anticipation. He was toying with you. Playing you like a fucking instrument and listening to your melody. Drowning in the sounds you made—the ones he dreamed of. If there was a life after this, a fated place he could go to rest, he'd want it to be here. Crammed into this cockpit with you on his lap, the feel of you sliding through his fingers and the echo of your voice breathing his name sweeter than the alcohol you had handed him earlier.

Poe would do whatever he could to make this moment last just a minute longer.

"Need you."

He kissed the junction where your neck and shoulder met, fingers still guiding yours through your own heat. "I know you do starlight. But you're gonna cum for me like this first." Your sweet little gasp ripped him a part. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to stave off nearly coming in his pants. "Let me guide you."

You nodded and spread your legs as wide as they could go in the cramped space. It wasn't very far, nor did it give him space to do what he really wanted to do to you, but it would have to do for now. The noise of the celebration in the distance only grew louder as people consumed more alcohol, the joy bleeding into the air. But you couldn't give a shit at that moment about why they were happy, or even what occurred before today.

You were lost to the depths that Poe pulled you into.

Heat spilled between your fingertips, a sticky mess starting between the two of you, but that seemed to only drive him forward. He pressed down, sliding your fingers into you with ease, his delving in right beside you—stretching you in a way that had your back arching. Wrapped his arm around your waist, he kept you still, his chin set on your shoulder and chest heaving with controlled breaths. A way for him to keep the last bits of his sanity as he felt your walls clamp around his fingers.

"Fuck baby," he grit between clenched teeth. "You really did need me huh?"

Nodding, you felt him press even further, fingers searching for something.

"You're gonna make a mess on me." Pumping his hand, he felt your body shudder—your mouth falling open as a ragged moan echoed in the ship. "Gonna take me so easily. I'll slip right in."

You burned from the inside out. A searing heat pulling tight across your body until you could nothing but fall into it. There was no fighting against that aching bliss, no running from what you wanted, what you dreamed of. Poe was intent on breaking you apart right there on his lap, and he'd watch with a smile on his face as you spilled yourself between the rough pads of his fingers. As you made a fucking mess on his lap.

"C'mon baby," he muttered, curling his fingers forward and nudging against something blinding. You cried out, hand grasping at his wrist to either pull him away or keep him right there. You couldn't tell at this point. And he smiled. "Is that it?" Rubbing against the spongy patch along your walls, he felt your entire body lock up, a whimpered sob breaking from your chest. "Yeah. That's fucking it."

You tried to warn him, his name a garbled echo of nonsensical letters on your tongue. But he already knew. His hand sped up, practically pushing your fingers out of the way as he gave you everything you wanted. Poe was certain that he wanted this more than you, that deep down he needed to know that you came because of him. That he was capable of turning you into a sobbing mess.

The echo of his pained grunt was loud in your ears, his hips pressing up into you to relieve the pressure of need he felt, and that's what did it. The knowledge that he was as gone as you were. That he had always wanted you.

Your walls fluttered around his fingers, a splintered moan falling past your parted lips as the pleasure spilled over. And he buried his face into your neck, a broken sound of his own muffled by your warm skin. He fought against finishing, biting into your shoulder as he worked you through your release. Adamant to make this last for you—to drag you to the Maker and back with a sated smile on your face.

Eventually you couldn't take it anymore, pleasure bleeding into pain, and you dragged his hand away. A breathless sigh of his name shooting right to his cock.

Without knowing it you had broken him for anyone else. Obliterated his ability to ever see someone the way he saw you.

You and your beauty. Your ability to render him speechless, breathless, and at your fucking mercy. For so long he was the ship lost in space with no sense of direction to lead him back to something real, a purpose. But then you settled into his heart. You became his pilot, guiding him through the never-ending void of space. You kept him afloat even as the weight of the galaxy threatened to drag him down, happy to watch him crash and burn in as so many others had done before.

"That was new," you giggled, hand reaching back to run through his hair.

He smiled, his heart twisting in his chest and fingers still covered in your slick coming to grip at your hips. "To think..." Pressing your ass down against his hard cock, he felt the breath hitch in your chest. "We could have been doing this the whole time."

"W-What a loss," you breathed, that now familiar all encompassing need filling your veins once more.

As if he knew your body so well already, he began to pull at your pants, helping you strip yourself to the best of your ability. The soft clinking of his belt echoed loudly in the cockpit and for a moment you were sure that people in the distance could hear it. But that thought quickly left your mind the second you felt the hot skin of his cock pressing against your lower back—his precum wet and sticky now smeared against your skin. Saliva filled your mouth, the ache pulling at your chest, clawing its way to the surface.

You didn't simply want him. That was too small of a word to explain the feeling in your body. You breathed for him. You lived for him. Poe was the blood that streamed in your veins, the reason your heart beat the way it did. Because it beat for him.

"Say you want this," he grunted, grinding against your skin, his fingers digging in harder than before. Until blood nearly pricked at the surface.

"Yes." The word was out of your mouth before he could even finish speaking. "Maker, I've wanted this for so long."

A growl hit your ears, his nose pressed into your back as he lifted you slightly, and you felt like you would rip to shreds if he didn't hurry. The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, sliding into you with slippery ease. And you pressed back against him, desperate to feel him sink into you fully. To be stretched out around his cock. Poe choked on his breath when your warm heat encompassed his throbbing length so suddenly, nearly throwing him off the edge entirely.

"Fuck starlight. You're gonna have to give me a second."

Your lips curled up into a grin. "Yes, General."

For a moment Poe could only process the breaths he took, the word entering his already blank mind. It wasn't until a searing heat shot up his spine at the sound of his title leaving your lips, did he fully understand. His hips pushed up into you, forcing him to sink just a bit deeper. You clutched at the side of the ship, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. The position had him pressing right along your walls, the underside of his cock grinding blissfully against you.

"I used to think you had no idea." He pushed you up slightly until his cock was halfway out and he glanced down, moaning at the sight of him covered in your slick. Only to pull you back down hard. Your choked cry was like music to his ears. "Didn't know what you do to me. How my whole fucking body belonged to you."

"Poe—"

He repeated the movement, smiling at the noises that came free. "But I was wrong."

A pressure quickly built in the base of your stomach, threatening to destroy you. And you chased it. Meeting his thrusts, you fucked yourself on his cock, hands pressed to the dash in front of you and back arched to find the perfect angle that made your toes curl in your boots. Ragged breaths filled the space, accompanied by broken moans and stunted grunts. Each one louder than the last as you both took and took and took, until the very edge of bliss mounted in your bodies.

He gripped the back of your neck, hand fisting at your hair as he pulled you back roughly against his chest. And you fell into it. Whining his name when he grinded up slowly, your walls clamped down around his cock. You could barely see straight through the burn of tears that glazed your eyes, a fucked out expression painted perfectly on your face. And Poe wished he could see you from where he was, catch a glimpse of the way your eyes rolled back, neck on display for him to bite.

"You know exactly what you do to me, starlight." His mouth fell open in a silent moan when his balls drew up painfully, cock throbbing along your walls. He quickly shoved his hand into your slick, fingers locating your clit with ease.

"Maker—" You heard him bite out your name like a prayer he couldn't get out fast enough. A plea for you to give him everything you had, everything that made you who you were. "I'm— Fuck I-I'm—"

"Yes," he groaned, using his other hand to cup your chin and pull your lips to his. Finally kissing you after years of dreaming it would happen. "Fucking give it to me baby."

His tongue licked into your mouth, swallowing every sound you made with ease. The feel of his lips against yours shoved you towards your release. A muffled cry of his name echoing in his mouth as your body went taut, thighs quaking as you gushed on his cock. He choked, mouth open and panting against yours, following you instantly and spilling into your cunt—filling you until you were sure it was dripping out of you and gathering at the base of him.

"Yours," he sighed against your lips, thumb running along the top of your cheek. "'M yours."

The twist of your heart brought you down from your high, your eyes fluttering open as he stared at your kiss swollen lips, the way his spit smeared along your bottom one. You expected him to take it back once he slipped out of you. Surely this was nothing but a dream, a moment in time that may never happen again. But in his eyes you saw devotion. You saw the inevitable future that was always bound to happen.

"Me too."

He smiled, nose brushing against yours. "Guess we're stuck with each other starlight."

"That doesn't sound too bad to me, General."

He tsked under his breath, fingers coming to grip your chin—brown eyes flashing up to meet your gaze. "You're causing trouble."

You grinned, grinding on his softened cock that was still buried deep in you. "And if I am?"

The feeling of his cock twitching inside you, slowly growing hard with interest. "Hands on the controls baby." He nipped at your bottom lip. "You know what to do."

A soft flutter filled your stomach as you followed his direction. Taking the lead in a dance that you were now familiar with. With Poe everything came with ease, as if you'd gone through it with him hundreds of times over. And guiding him home was just the beginning.