#i just hate endings okay!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lavshaze · 1 month ago

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❤️ | Beautiful thing

Continuation to terrible thing, but can be read as a stand-alone, I'm terribly sorry this took so long, I'm starting to think writing silco smut is my destiny and I should just drop out and do this 24/7

✧ contains ⤐ continuation of the wet dream shenanigans, so naturally also smut! finger sucking and fucking, oral (female receiving), missionary, a lot of feelings, like the yearning truly hits its climax (but so do both of them so it's alright), oh and lovely tween jinx is there at the beginning <3 w.c. ~ 7.7k (big boy)

It’s around 7:35 when you reach The Last Drop.

You could blame it on the amount of time you spent in the shower, staring at the tiled floor and trying to get over the visions you had, but you weren’t going to tell Silco any of that. ‘I almost got robbed’ sounds a lot nicer and just as believable.

You’re greeted with ear-splitting music the minute you walk through the door, a usual for the club, especially at this hour. It was only getting started and was probably going to be a lot worse by the time you leave. You pull your jacket tighter around yourself as you scan the crowd of faceless dancing bodies, looking for your possible silver line for tonight, a tall and strong woman who you’d actually pay to come up to Silco’s office and bully you just for this night.

You visibly deflate when you don’t catch sight of her in her usual spots, not playing poker nor flirting at the bar. All you can see is a lot of sweaty people and a lot of shimmer being passed around. You do, however, spot Ran by the pool table, and you place her in your mind as your backup plan.

Fortunately for Ran, your favorite blue haired devil is at your side the minute you open the door to his office.

“Jinx!”

You yelp out her name in equal parts excitement and surprise. Her hug attack nearly knocks you off your feet, if it weren’t for the door frame you’d managed to hold on to. You can’t help the grin that spreads on your face at the eagerness; the poor girl is stuck with a monologuing villain as a father all day, it’s probably a relief to see you, a normal human being who doesn’t glower and speak in riddles.

“Hello, Jinx.” You fondly run your fingers through the hair at the top of her head. She turns her head to look up at you, pearly whites exposed in a wide grin. “I missed you, sweet girl.”

She's grown taller over the past few months, now tall enough to reach your chest when she hugs you, but she's still as lanky as the day you found her. Or, well, the day Silco found her. She was smaller back then, but just as skinny. You look at the man who took her in, deeply immersed in whatever document is stressing him out tonight— looking just as malnourished as she does— and it all makes sense.

“I've been waiting for you all day,” comes the squeaky whine from below, demanding your undivided attention. “Silco is so busy, he doesn't have the time to check out my new paintball gun, which is really lame, because this one has explosives!”

At the mention of his name, the man looks up from the troubling piece of paper. He stares at you for a minute, eye adjusting to the sight of another human being, then begrudgingly places the wretched document down on the desk and pushes the chair back to stand.

“You're here.”

You smile, absentmindedly petting the girl attached to your waist, “yes, I am. Did you not hear me talking just now?”

He reaches for his glass of bourbon, three melting ice cubes in a nearly empty cup, “I did. I wasn't quite sure if you were a figment of my imagination or not.”

Your smile almost slips into something sinister, all the nervousness from before suddenly escaping your body, “what, you have fantasies about me?” It’s so easy to slip back into the subtle flirtatious routine, the light comments that aren’t supposed to mean much to either of you. The earth-shattering dream almost seems like a silly thought now that you’re here, in his office, breathing in the air that’s tinted by him in every way.

It’s Silco. Things didn’t have to change between the two of you, you could always just enjoy purgatory.

He looks at you from atop the rim of his glass, a flicker of a smile on his face, “only when I'm at my wit's end.”

The moment ends there, if only to protect Jinx.

He makes his way around the desk to settle on the couch, leaning back and finishing up his drink. You observe the way his hands curl around the glass, how he crosses one slender leg over the other, and bite down on your lip like a voyeur— always watching through the glass, never having the chance to lay your hands on the merchandise.

Jinx detaches from your waist and goes over to sit next to him, thankfully pulling you out of the slightly unpleasant thoughts you were having. He puts his arm out, and she automatically goes for a side hug. You smile to yourself, watching The Eye of Zaun growing softer around the edges at the hands of the blue haired menace never gets old.

You sit beside her on the couch, and she draws you into countless conversations. Reminiscing the past week, telling you about the progress she's been making with the explosives/paintball gun, and how she's already tried it on Sevika a couple times— ‘Jinx, that's not nice’ ‘it's sevika, she doesn't deserve nice!’ — and retelling a particularly funny bar fight that she witnessed.

While she’s explaining the process she went through to implement the explosives into a harmless toy gun, your eyes flicker back to the man at her side. He’s leaning back, craning his neck to look at the ceiling, and you take the chance to admire his side profile. Enhanced by the dim light of his desk lamp, the curve of his nose is particularly alluring at the moment. From his nose to his charming overbite to the strands of hair that fall to the side as a result of a long exhausting day, you sneak subtle glances at him, as much as you can without getting caught.

But you know, in your heart of hearts, that he must be aware of your burning gaze on the side of his face. And you know, when he turns his head slightly to lock eyes with you, that the look he gives you is just as loaded and dangerous as this little game you were playing.

“..anyways, I’d really like to show you the gun now.”

Your attention falls back to the child nestled between the two of you, big blue eyes blinking innocently at you. You know she’s not clueless, and you know she’s probably sick of you playing eye games with her father when she’s right there.

“Of course, honey. Silco?”

He removes his arm from around her, adjusting his position so his body is drawn away from yours. Huh, funny. You hadn’t noticed how much it was angled towards you until now.

Jinx sighs in relief the minute the two of you are out of the door and you can’t help but laugh.

“Jinx.”

“Oh, c’mon, it’s impossible to be in the same room with the two of you without you making kissy eyes at each other!”

Thankfully, you’re far enough down the hall to know Silco wouldn’t hear that. “We do not make kissy eyes at each other.”

She stops, turns to give you an unamused look, then turns back around and continues walking.

You follow her down to the basement, where she pulls out her magnificent invention. She shoots it far enough away so neither of you get impacted and you’re thankful to see that the explosions are more like fireworks than actual big booms. You’re proud of her and you tell her as much, she practically glows at the praise.

But then her smile drops and she sighs dramatically— the spitting image of her father when it comes to dramatics, how are they not blood related— “if only things could always be like this…”

You frown, “like what?”

“You and me, having fun, no Silco.”

The statement is so jarring that it pulls a stunned laugh out of you, and Jinx grins, proud of herself. “Kidding! I like him too, I just wish you two would stop your secret messages.”

“Secret messages?”

She nods, “the ones you communicate with your eyes. I wanna be in on those conversations too!”

You smile. She definitely does not want to be in on those conversations, but you'd preserve what was left of her innocence.

“So, Jinx,” you lean down to be on her level, “what do you wanna do next?”

You watch as all thoughts of those secret conversations practically vanish from her head, replaced with much more important things, like visiting Jericho’s stall.

When you make your way back to Silco’s office, it’s with a lot more food than you left with. Jinx is happily satisfied with the meal that she had at the stall, but she carries the extra food bags like ammo. She was nice enough to consider leaving some of it for her dear father.

To your disappointment though, the office is empty. You think maybe something came up and he had to take care of it, as it often happens, and you feel a little relieved that maybe you’ll get to end the night here and postpone the sensual torture he puts you through to a later time, when you're not so hormonal. As you’re about to back up into the hallway to ask the standing guard of his whereabouts, you feel a pair of hands on your hips, holding you in place.

“Careful,” Silco leans forward to speak the words right into your ear, “it’s awfully rude to cause such an injury to your host.” He’s not even whispering, he just always uses that tone.

His hands are gone from your hips as fast as they’d been placed there, and you almost mourn the loss. But the sight of Jinx’s knowing, bored expression diverts your attention back to the girl.

Right, no kissy eyes.

“Jericho’s?” He asks, one eyebrow raised. Jinx nods and rushes to place the remaining food on the coffee table, “we got some for you too!”

“How nice of you, Jinx. Unfortunately, I’m rather full at the moment so I must postpone such an appetizing meal to a later time.” You note the smell of smoke in the air, he definitely had his meal of the night. “In the meantime, I think we should be getting you to bed.”

Jinx groans, “already? But she just got here! I barely get to spend time with her.”

You put an arm around her shoulder, “I’ll come by earlier on Monday if you go to bed on time right now.” She moves to wrap her arms around you for a final time, looking up at you with glossy blue eyes, “you promise?”

“I do,” you plant a kiss on her forehead.

Silco extends a hand and she takes it, small fingers engulfed in his much larger one. She waves at you as he guides her outside his office, down to her bedroom, you wave back as they slip out the door. This leaves you in the dim office alone.

You saunter over to the couch and mindlessly drape yourself over the cushions, your head occupied with the inevitable decision you’re facing now. You either make up an excuse to leave early, one that he’d know better than to believe, or stay and put up with more hidden innuendos and dark, poorly masked looks. It’s not that you’re not used to it, or that it’s a new development, but rather the fact that you’ve come to the harrowing realization that whatever you felt for him ran deeper than you anticipated. It had been bubbling in your chest, threatening to overflow like a boiling kettle on a stove, and the final straw— the thing that truly pushed you over the edge— was that dream.

And it's not the fact that it was dirty, you've had those about him before, and consequently, you’d learned to brush them off as wild fantasies. It happened once in a dream kind of deal, you weren’t going to get hung up over the possibilities of those thoughts ever coming to fruition. The problem with this particular dream was how romantic it was— the heated gaze in his reflection, the appreciative scan of your body, gods, just the feeling of him inside you. You weren’t fucking that man, you were making love to him.

The thought is so cliche it makes you gag, but that look in his eyes when he was watching you in the mirror, your unconscious brain was endlessly cruel to make it look like he held such love for you. The longing, the monstrous yearning that dream instilled in you was dangerous. It planted a feeling inside your chest that now threatens to split it open if you're not careful.

You're not blind to possibilities, there's a chance that Silco shares the sentiment and you're not in this mess entirely alone; but you're also aware that he's extremely mission oriented, and he probably wouldn't consider the prospect of something serious with you as long as Zaun wasn't free. It’s something you respect him for, never losing sight of his goals, you just wish it didn't make him nearly unattainable.

Because gods above, you'd love to attain him.

It’s a thought that’s been brewing in the back of your mind since you first met. Three years ago, a much more distressed version of yourself was too tipsy to feel endangered by his presence at one of the less frequented bars. Back when Vander was in charge, you didn't know who Silco was or the implications of what had happened between them. All you knew was that this strange man had a sexy scar and his eye kinda glowed in the dark, and that made your alcohol-addled brain see stars.

To this day, you aren’t quite sure what about your slurred conversation skills made him tolerate you enough to listen to you all night. You’ve suspected it was the loneliness he was dealing with at the time, and you were likely his least dangerous form of entertainment, or maybe he thought you were pretty and perhaps much more charming when sober. It’s probably the second one.

But that's how your unconventional friendship started, chance encounters in small bars. He was always able to find you alone and you were never sure how he did it but you didn't really mind. Where you found your curiosities being satisfied every time he shared something about himself, he found someone willing to share the burden with him. Eventually, you learned about Vander and what actually happened between them. The river, the betrayal, the blood; the respect you'd had for Vander soured into distaste, and turned into borderline hatred when you learned of the deal he had with the enforcers.

Things were progressing quickly though, and it wasn't long before Vander was out of the picture. The Hound had been overpowered by The Eye, and that's when you met Jinx for the first time, hysterical and wailing in Silco’s arms. Powder, they used to call her, peculiarly fitting for the girl who had crumbled in your hold that night. You held her until the screaming ceased and the three of you fell asleep on the couch.

That's when your relationship with Silco started changing, getting much more intimate. That night where Silco discovered just how useful you could be with Jinx, that was the first domino in a long line that led up to this moment, to the present where you were fighting tooth and nail against the feelings that were threatening to suffocate you.

The sound of the door unlocking pulls you out of your thoughts, the object of your suffering walks in.

“Drink?” He walks over to the bar cart.

You shake your head, “actually, Silco, I'm thinking of going home early today.”

He pours himself some whiskey and doesn't look up at you, “oh, were you now?” He takes a slow, agonizing sip of his drink before he speaks again, “anything important?”

You smile in spite of yourself, “not really, just tired.”

He looks up from his drink, two mismatched eyes settling on your frame. His gaze travels down your body, assessing you as if you were one of the chembarons working under him. But under that scrutinizing gaze, you catch embers of something else, something dark and seductive, something that looks a lot like desire.

Your face burns.

“I guess I shall not keep you then.” He turns, walking over to his desk, “I wouldn't want to distract you from such important appointments.”

He settles back in his chair and is almost immediately immersed in work again. You envy him for being so focused, knowing that if you go home now you'll just keep yourself awake thinking about him. You watch his fingers grasp the pen that he puts to paper and feel yourself grow light-headed, it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that you had to go home and sit with your thoughts while all he touches is paperwork. You wanted him to touch you, put you out of your misery.

You stand but make no move towards the door, instead making your way over to him. He doesn't look up when you pass by, walking over to the grand window that highlights the main wall of the office. You'd always been fascinated by it, the color was certainly a choice, and in daylight it looks mystifying. Right now, it's dark enough for you to catch your reflection, you pretend to adjust your hair.

“You don't really want to leave, do you?”

He doesn't move, doesn't turn in his chair. You know he can't see the gesture but you shake your head, “I don't know.”

“Is there something you'd like to tell me?”

Your body feels a tad too warm for comfort.

“I don't know.”

He discards his work with a sigh. Your lips curl in amusement, knowing that whenever you’re around, he’s too distracted to get any actual work done.

You watch as his reflection comes up behind yours, the heat in your body intensifies in response to the glowing glare of his dark eye. You know he's aware of the effect he has on you, and you know he does it on purpose. You wonder if he's ever haunted with thoughts of you the way you are of him, you wonder if he ever has dirty dreams about you.

“Has something happened?”

You shake your head.

“Is someone threatening you?”

You shake your head again and laugh, of course that's what he would ask.

“Look at me.”

You don't have it in you to resist, especially when he's using that tone. You turn around, coming face to face with his narrowed eyes, sea green and charcoal eyes looking back at you. It’s difficult to miss the hint of concern that you’ve become accustomed to recognizing over the years.

“What's on your mind, dove?”

Your heart sings at the pet name and your lips curl bashfully, “I can't say it.”

“Can't you?” His eyes trail down to your lips, “you can tell me anything.”

In theory, you can. In theory, you have, ever since you first met and you'd spilled way too much about yourself to him, and that leap of faith is exactly how you ended up here. Standing in front of the man who holds your heart so firmly, unable to reach out and touch him, unable to have more than a small part of him.

He draws closer, too close.

“No, Sil. I'm afraid I can't this time,” your voice comes out soft, strained, “I'm afraid I have to leave before I do something stupid.”

He pays no mind to your statement, hands reaching up to cup your face, rough fingertips contradicting the gentle nature of the act. Your eyes gloss over, the spark you've been feeling erupts into wild flames that threaten to consume your whole being. His thumb brushes over your cheekbone with such care that it makes your chest squeeze. Expression unreadable, he observes your face carefully; when his thumb skirts the outline of your lips, your breath catches in your throat.

You part your lips slightly and something inside him understands the silent communication. Something else throbs.

Experimentally, he brushes his thumb over your lips, appreciating the rough texture of the chewed skin. He watches as you open your mouth wider in invitation, assessing the situation before he pushes his thumb past your lips and right into the wetness of your oral cavity. Your mouth closes around him, careful not to bite, as you stare back into his observant eyes.

His breath hitches, pupil of the good eye blowing wider, as he watches you take his finger to the hilt. You think this must be another cruel trick from the gods, another wet dream that you're going to wake up from in frustration, but the feeling of his finger against your soft, wet tongue is unmistakable.

You’re not sure what this means, for you or your relationship with him, but you’re sure that it’s happening and you feel the need to savor what you can. Your hand comes up to wrap around his wrist, thumb caressing the inside of his hand as your eyelids grow heavier.

For a moment, the world stops. For a moment, all you can think about is how he tastes in your mouth, and flashes of the wicked dream you had only a few hours before run through your mind. Weeks of filthy thoughts push at you to do more, to ask for more of him, but you’re insistent on taking it slow, on memorizing every little gesture, just in case you never experience it again.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

You hum around his finger. The tent in his pants may be a visual representation of the effect you have on him, but you’re feeling rather greedy.

“Surely, you must, or else, you wouldn't walk into this office with such pride, so confident knowing that you've got me wrapped around your finger.” Your lips curl into a smile around his finger and he scoffs in amusement, “happy to know that you're my weakness, aren't you?”

He removes his finger and you're left to think about the implications of a ‘weakness’. A soft spot, a passion, a sweetness, a hazard, an obstacle, a problem. Did Silco see you as a problem? And most importantly, as you look into hungry, lustful eyes, does he care about that right now?

You can't help the hand that comes up to grasp at his vest in desperation, you can't help the frantic need to keep him close while you can, to touch him for as long as he deems himself touchable. You can't help the force that makes you pull him closer to press your lips against his in a bruising kiss, and you can't help the shiver that runs through your body when he kisses you back with just as much force.

He tastes like the cigar that you knew he was having earlier, sweetened by the taste of whiskey still in his mouth. The contact overwhelms your senses, unable to process anything besides how he tastes, how he smells, how he feels.

He backs you up against the window so your burning hot skin is pressed against the cold glass, tongue shoving into your mouth with admirable ferocity. You let him tilt your head for better access, place his arms around your waist, push you up against the glass, you'd let him do anything to you right now.

Sharp teeth bite down on your lips and the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth, you find yourself unable to contain the small sounds of pleasure at his vicious probing. You can feel his arousal through his pants, poking at your thigh. Hungry for more, you reach down to give it a stroke over the clothes, to which he groans directly into your mouth.

He draws back and you come face to face with the feral look in his eyes.

“Needy little thing.”

He reaches underneath your skirt and you gasp when his cool fingers make contact with the warm wetness of your underwear. He runs his finger back and forth in slow tortuous cycles.

“So wet, so eager for my touch. Tell me, dove, how many times have you fantasized about this?” Your breath catches as he moves the offending fabric to the side and presses his finger to your bare cunt. “How many times have I made you this wet?”

“Silco, please.”

A devilish smile extends on his lips, “I know. Answer my question.”

You throw your head back against the glass in frustration, breathing deeply.

“More than I can count.”

The fire that catches in his eyes is enough to burn down the greatest libraries in the world, mere embers of it manage to set your whole body aflame. It would be mortifying to witness if you weren’t the object of his affection, the recipient of what pleasure he has to offer.

“You terrible little thing.”

Your answer rewards you with one, long finger easing its way past your lips and into your cunt. Your hips stutter at the contact and it elicits a sharp smile from your assailant as he curls the digit inside you. He watches your face contorting in pleasure, drawing out helpless needy moans from your sweet little mouth. He moves to swallow the gasps with his own, planting soft but relentless kisses on your lips.

He's kind enough to insert a second finger in, working you on his hand as he angles his wrist to reach further inside. You break off from his mouth to peer down at the sight, watching his fingers disappear into your cunt; it’s endlessly obscene and it only feeds the fire burning inside you. You tighten around him when the pleasure gets too much and he grunts into your ear, the sound rolling down your spine.

You force your head back up so he can kiss you again, shoving your head back against the glass. He claims your mouth once more, fingers relentlessly probing at your opening. His thumb moves to rub against your clitoris and your body twitches with pleasure, forcing you to draw back from his searing hot mouth. He observes you with the ravenousness of a predator observing its prey, appreciating the way your mouth helplessly hangs open.

His thumb continues to rub against your clit as you approach the precipice at an alarming rate.

“I should like to see you speechless like this more often.”

The smug smirk that stretches upon his kiss-bruised lips, the sinful tone of his voice, and the burning hot gaze he observes you with— it’s all too much.

It takes a lot of control to keep your eyes open, but you don't strip him of the pleasure that comes from watching you crumble at his hand— on his hand. Those cursed, rough fingers that have committed atrocious crimes in the name of a greater cause, they continue to fuck the common sense out of you until you have no fight left in you.

When he pulls his fingers out, they’re coated with your wetness and you flush in embarrassment. Undeterred, he places the fingers in his mouth and licks them clean, before he leans forward and presses a soft kiss against your lips.

“Shall we continue this in the bedroom?”

Gods above, thank you Janna.

“Please.”

When you're laid down on the silky bed sheets this time, it's miles better than you dreamt it to be.

Silco wastes no time undressing you, having pulled your shirt off on the way to the bed, he figures out how to unhook your bra pretty quickly. You shouldn't be too surprised, those fingers are seriously skilled at everything they do. Once they're off, he dives to catch one of your breasts in his mouth, teeth grazing sensitive nipples. You take rapid deep breaths as you watch him devour your chest, creating bite marks that you'd definitely admire later. The wanting between your legs is overwhelming, but so is the one in your chest. You affectionately thread your fingers through his hair, pulling on it when he bites down on your sensitive skin. You think you could come from this alone.

When he's satisfied with the assault on your chest, he moves lower. Your skirt is unzipped and removed at an alarming speed and his face is between your thighs before you have a chance to protest.

Warm breath fans over your underwear, still wet from your first orgasm. He pauses, eyes peering up at you in such an uncharacteristically serene manner that you almost think something's wrong.

“I've thought about this before.”

You tilt your head, eyelids heavy as you smile down at him. “Have you?”

“You have no idea, darling. I've thought about you in positions much worse.”

You bite your lip, “I know. I've thought about you too.” There's a silent, unspoken implication in your statement that you hope the breathlessness and aching look you give him convey well enough, you're not sure that you'd be able to push out the confession otherwise. His eyes flicker from your face back to your clothed cunt, deep in thought. Almost mindlessly, he reaches up to lace his fingers through yours. He does it on his left, you reach for both his hands, rubbing gently at his knuckles. If it weren't for the position, you'd lean down and kiss them.

“You must understand how badly I've wanted this,” and you do, “you must understand that this isn't a mindless act of the body.” Your breath hitches at what he's implying, and you're thankful that he doesn't declare it just yet, because you think you'd explode under the weight of the feeling bubbling in your chest.

“I do, Silco. I feel the same.”

‘We can talk about it later’ is unspoken, but well understood between the two of you. For now, you focus on the way his body feels against yours, the way he noses at the inner side of your thigh in a slow absentminded motion.

“Are you going to eat me out or should I get up and leave, Sil?”

That catches his attention, eyes snapping to meet yours. His fingers leave yours to curl possessively around your thigh, digging hard enough to leave marks.

“Leave? I would never let you, not when I have you in my hands like this.”

And oh Janna, did he have you in his hands.

The first contact of his tongue against your folds has you arching your back in fervor, eager to meet his mouth with your core. His eyes flicker in amusement as he pins you down by the hips.

“Patience.”

You whine, the amount of need circulating your body overwhelming your senses. He presses his tongue flat against you and licks another experimental strip; your chest heaves, heart beating erratically against your ribcage. The frustration has you untangling your fingers from his to grip onto the sheets. He glances up at you, a dangerous look playing in his eyes, and goes for another lick.

You sharply inhale, “Silco.”

His lips curl in amusement, “good things come to those who wait, my love.”

You throw your head back and release a sound that's a combination of pleasure and frustration. Teasing, evil bastard.

“You've waited a long time for this, haven't you?” You nod, feeling too frustrated to answer. “Tell me, dove, what made you snap this time? What gave you the audacity to wrap your lips around my finger so desperately, looking at me like I hold the key to all your desires?”

Your skin feels impossibly hot, his warm breath fans over your exposed core but he makes no move to relieve you of your suffering, looking at you expectantly instead.

“I had a dream,” you push out through gritted teeth, “I had a dream about you.”

He draws lazy circles on the inside of your thigh, “have you? Did it feature such promiscuous positions?”

You shake your head, smiling down at him, “worse, you fucked me in front of your mirror.”

His breath hitches, pupils going wide at the mental image. He speaks slowly, entranced, “is that what you like?”

“Maybe for another time,” your smile drops, “right now, I'd like you to fucking eat me out, please.”

He chuckles, planting a toothy kiss on the inside of your thigh, “so impatient.”

When his tongue makes proper contact with your pussy, you let out a wanton moan. The relief it provides is inexplicable, allowing you to melt back into the covers, his grip on your thighs keeping them wide open. Your hands travel down to thread through his hair, and you get the wonderful vision of dream-disheveled Silco as a very real projection between your thighs.

“I always knew you were good with your tongue, Sil.” You sigh in bliss. He hums against your core, “gave it a lot of thought, have you?”

“You have no idea.”

His wet tongue rubs against your soft walls, eliciting more needy sounds from your throat. He eats pussy like an experienced veteran, silver tongue curling inside you to reach the deepest spots. If only he could always put it to such good use.

His sharp nose rubs against your clit and your body jolts in pleasure.

“Right there, Sil. Don't stop,” he looks up at you with dark eyes as you continue to beg in the neediest tone known to man, “please, don't stop.”

And he doesn't. True to his nature, he has the stamina of a fighter, and if this is how good he eats you out, you look forward to what comes after.

He works you with his tongue until you approach your second orgasm of the night. Your back arches in anticipation, grip tightening around his hair, all you can manage in warning is a breathless close that he responds to with more vigorous probing. His hands around your hips pin you down, resisting the relentless twitching that's evoked by his tongue moving inside you.

You call out his name in desperate pleas, hips stuttering with every deep plunge into your cunt. His eyes meet yours from between your legs, practically glowing in enjoyment; your heart stutters at the sight, you don't know if you'll ever witness anything like this in your lifetime. He mercifully continues to rub at your clit, providing you with the release you've been begging for.

The tight rope inside you continues to curl and tighten further until it snaps, reverberating through your body like an intense war cry. You come with a broken moan that has you squeezing your eyes under the intense weight of pleasure, unshed tears wetting your lashes.

Silco squeezes your thighs, silently asking you to look at him, and you shakily comply, allowing him direct eye contact while he fucks you through your high.

He detaches from you within a few seconds, and the affection swelling in your chest has you pulling at his vest to pull him up for a bruising kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue, the evidence of your orgasm mixing into your shared spit. When you pull back, you're met with his wonderfully disheveled and flushed face, and you notice— with great amusement— that you've rubbed some of his foundation off on your thighs.

Your eyes trail down to his clothed chest, you realize that there's a great disequilibrium between your states of undress. Your hands rise to trace the gold in his clothes, all the way up to his collar.

“Will you take this off?” You tug at his clothes, “please, I'd like to see you.”

You're aware that it's a big request, that his bare body would put him in such a vulnerable position that he would never recover from if this doesn't go well; but you're not quite sure what ‘this’ is either, between the lust you feel in your core, and the love beating in your chest, the one feeling that courses through you is ‘want’.

You want him naked, vulnerable, offering himself to you just as you have to him.

He looks torn, hesitant.

Your hand creeps up further to brush at what little skin is exposed from his neck. Slow tentative movements over the sensitive area has him twitching in your hands, but he doesn't move away. Your hands creep higher to settle around his neck, feeling for the physical and emotional scar that was left there ages ago, but still burns as if recently instilled.

Discussions about Vander have been few and far in-between, and you understand the wound still runs deep. For a minute, you're afraid that he's going to turn away from your touch when his breath catches in his throat at the incidental scratch of your nails, but he relaxes in your grip when you continue to rub soothing patterns over the sensitive skin.

With what power you have, you trace mindless circles on his shoulders, leaning forward to plant soft kisses along his collarbones. “It’s okay.” You kiss upwards, drawing closer to the junction of his shoulder and neck. His breath hitches as you draw closer to the sensitive skin, but he tilts his head back and allows you unspoken access anyways.

Trust is not easy to come by, especially with someone like him, but the sight of Silco practically melting in your hands while you trace over his most sensitive scar, it feels like a bond even deeper than trust.

The need to be brave for him, to lay yourself bare— even more than being entirely naked under him— is imminent. You take a deep breath before your fingers hook together behind his neck and pull him down for another kiss, once more for courage.

“I like you, Silco,” you speak against his lips, glistening with the proof of your kiss. “I like you a lot, and there's nothing you can say or do that will make me like you less.” Your eyes trail up to his own, the next words feeling much more serious than you intend, “I like you so much that nothing you can show me now will make me turn away.”

It's a reckless promise, a heated confession that admittedly just follows the weight of the moment without much previous thought. Later, you'd have to enforce the idea of boundaries, the things that he isn't allowed to do, but something in your head tells you that you weren't lying. Regardless of what he does, you don't see yourself ever walking away.

His gaze softens, the hesitant look from earlier replaced by a prominent ache, the aftermath of a healing wound.

“Ever the sweet talker, dove.”

You smile, “only for you, Sil. Only for you.”

He draws back, moving to undo his vest before he halts, instead reaching for your hands.

“Would you like to help?”

Your eyes twinkle with mirth, “please.”

Slender fingers wrap around yours, guiding you to undo his tie, take off his vest, push his shirt off his shoulder. You appreciate the sight of his bare, scarred chest, running your fingers across his torso. You lean forward to plant a few soft kisses on his shoulder while you attempt to undo his pants without looking.

You’re forced to draw back with a laugh when you undeniably fail.

“Your pants are killing me.”

He huffs a light laugh, “it takes a moderate amount of skill, dearest,” something flickers in his eyes, “you'll gain experience in no time.”

Your heart squeezes at the implication. You watch as he illustrates how to undo those buttons, burning every movement to memory. Once the pants are off, you reach for his underwear eagerly, grunting out a finally that only amuses him further.

Within a few seconds, he's back on top of you and you're both equal parts naked this time. You wrap your legs around his waist, secure him against you as you exchange more open mouthed kisses. He grows harder against you, rubbing against your thighs and wet, sensitive cunt. You groan into his mouth and he takes it as a sign to reach between your legs and position himself properly.

Your arms squeeze around his shoulder when he slips in. His girth is impressive for someone of such stature and it has you gasping for air. He raises his head to look at your face as you take him in, allowing you the glorious vision of his ruined, flushed face— he's continuously coming undone under your touch. Janna, you could watch him like this forever.

Your fingers dig crescent moons into his pale skin once he begins moving inside you. It starts out slow, he enters all the way until you're taking him to the hilt and then allows you the pleasure of slow thrusts. Needy moans bubble in your throat as your grip on his shoulders tighten so much that you think you're about to draw blood, giving him a more pleasurable sort of scar.

“It's been hard holding back around you lately,” he whispers against your lips. “You're impossibly alluring when you want to be.”

You kiss him once more, “how do you think I feel?” He chases your lips when you part but you speak again, “how long has it been for you?”

“Since the day I took in Jinx.” He drops his head into the crook of your neck, almost like he's shy, “and for you?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, “since the day we met.”

He breathes a light laugh against your skin, you continue. “No seriously, I'd have fucked you back then if you initiated anything. Men with scars are lethally sexy.”

“Aren't you lucky, then.”

He bites into your neck, eliciting a soft moan from your mouth, and sucks until you're sure it forms a nice satisfactory bruise. He licks the sensitive skin and moves to other sites to plant more marks. “Always knew you were a biter,” you say breathlessly, throat constricting under his hot mouth.

Once he's done with his assault on your neck, he stands tall and you watch something shift in his expression. The soft, loving look is replaced with something hungry and dangerous, it has you squeezing around his cock.

“You've waited so patiently,” he hooks your legs higher around his middle, “I have to make sure I live up to your expectations.”

And then something is set off inside him, because his pace changes from soft and romantic to goddamn animalistic. His pace speeds up, drilling so deeply inside you that you think you feel him in your stomach. Your fingers dig into his back for some sort of grounding ritual but it only makes him groan right into your ear and the sound travels down to where you're connected. You can barely catch your breath.

“You, oh my gods, you exceed expectations, Sil.”

“Oh, I know, darling, the way your cunt squeezes around me is proof enough.”

Every obscene word goes right to your core and you feel him tugging on every sensitive string in your body. It's much more than that dream— gods that stupid, wonderful dream that had started the cascade of events that lead to this. There was no need for dreams anymore, his cock inside you was very much real and it was throbbing with need, one that you matched in your own core.

His arms are on either side of your face as he fucks the living daylight out of you, and you turn and burry your teeth in his left hand to feed some of the gnawing need in your core. You think it would be delightful if you could have more of him in your mouth, you consider if you should bite down until you draw blood but you choose to be kind this time. You can save it for the next few times, something he seems to be planning as well.

You turn back to face him and find yourself grinning stupidly at the knowledge that you're going to get this sight again, and again, and again, until you are either satisfied or dead. And if you happen to die during it, that'd be even better.

“Dirty girl, smiling to yourself while you take my cock. What are you thinking of?”

“I'm thinking of how beautiful you are, and how you're going to fuck me over and over again until we're both satisfied.”

He releases a low groan, hips stuttering momentarily before he picks up the pace again, slamming against your bare ass with newfound vigor.

“You're going to be the death of me.”

Then he leans down and catches your mouth in one last sloppy kiss, tongue assaulting yours in a similar fashion to his cock assaulting your cunt. You wrap your arms around his neck once more, whining pleas into his open mouth. The pleasure in your lower abdomen is overwhelming, overstimulated by his bruising kiss and arms coming around you.

It accumulates, all the sensations and the continuous coiling in your pelvis, until it explodes. The ecstasy washes over your body in waves, making you gasp against Silco’s mouth as you come undone. It shakes your whole body and for a second you think you see stars in the glowing orb of his damaged eye. He's endlessly beautiful, even as he brings you to your ruin.

He continues to fuck you through your orgasm and long enough to reach his own, too. He finishes inside, spilling himself deep within you, making you shudder at the sensation. He doesn't stop until he's completely soft inside you.

It's severely disappointing when he pulls out, but you understand that you can't be joined at the hips forever without an unfortunate lab accident. Instead, you settle for his embrace when he puts an arm around your shoulder, cuddling into him— two sweaty heaving bodies and an uncertain future.

When he traces invisible patterns into your bare skin and leans down to kiss your forehead though, it doesn't really matter.

It especially doesn't matter when you look up at him with a smile that matches his own, and it doesn't matter even more when that smile of his turns into a smirk at his next words.

“If that's what one dream can do, I look forward to the rest of them.”

Lovely illustration for silco being an #eater right here ♡

#i have thoughts about whether they'd end up in a relationship after this or not #if ur interested u know where to hmu wink wink #or dont hmu thats fine too... yeah im okay with not spilling my thoughts in the form of long ass rambles .#its fine honestly.#i think u should just go find another writer that doesnt ramble so much if u HATE ME THAT BADLY!!!#sorry #silco smut #arcane silco #silco #silco x reader smut #silco x reader fluff #silco x reader #silco x oc #💌 . the anthology

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proxycrit · 7 months ago

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What if I redesigned some horses to fit MY favorite narrative trope: fallen gods and forgotten myths of old? Anyways.

Twilight’s mentor is a strange one. In a world of twilit planes forever shrouded in mystery, the older unicorn Lest and her adopted student Twilight are one in many common travelers, migrating the pitted wastelands and eeking survival within settlements that spring up around the glowing meteor shards. Despite living with Lest for the last four years, Twilight can’t help but seek answers to where her brother has gone— and in the process, perhaps dig a bit too deeply into the complexities of gods far older and dangerous then she can truly fathom.

On the otherhand, Celestia “Lest” Sol is having a terrible millenium. Her sister is no longer her sister, her student teleported herself halfway across the continent, and she got herself kidnapped by an old rival trying to attune with the elements of harmony to overthrow the current ruler of Equestria.

At least she gets a toxic yuri moment.

Meanwhile, Chrysalis is having a great time. She’s got kingdoms to conquer and people to feed and a waning god to taunt.

(The Selene Grace hates the sun monarch they deposed five centuries ago as they stay chained to their post, keeping the lunar and solar bodies from crashing into each other. Luna misses her sister, and the easier world where they haven’t hurt each other beyond reparation. Nightmare Moon misses their monstrosity, trapped in a host who’s grief has poisoned them with empathy.

Things are bound to tip. The celestial bodies are not bodies, but prisons, and the amalgamations we call alicorns the key. And something desperately wants to be freed…)

Anyways:

My mane 6 redesign here!

And my luna and celestia redesigns here!

#rest your weary hooves in our new found home #^pony tag nonsense!#omg what if i idly brainstorm toxic horse yuri #idk these characters beyond the first three seasons #they’re sandbox critters to me sorry if this is not lore accueate aHAHAHhahaaaa #anyways #au where celestia looses the fight with nightmare moon and ends up wandering the continent as an exiled god #luna gets her shit together but its A Struggle #and chrysalis is actually an elderitch entity similar to discord in this au (think the god of deception or something similar)#((deceptacons roll out))#celestia #luna #chrysalis #nightmaremoon wins au #critdraws #art #celestia/chrysalis #mlp au #i had to post this at somepoint and thought well now’s better then never #sorry for the sporadic posts and terrible replies life’s super busy rn but i have a lot of thoughts #i just need luna and celestia to be siblings that heal from wounding each other in terrible ways okay #and i thought ‘celestia and chrysalis would pbbly hate each other’#(neuron brain activates)#oh my god what if they hated each other #mlp #mlp redesigns #mlp celestia #mlp luna #mlp twilight sparkle #mlp chrysalis

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popppyfur · 6 months ago

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sometimes when i like characters thisssss much i like drawing unnecessarily complicated comics of them having a normal ass conversation

#dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls band together #king peppy #viva #poppy #HATE these guys #if you recognize the dialogue [smooches u] i liked it a lot and wanted to practice comic panelling so i drew it out too #doodling #they exchange leadin advice at the breakfast table but mostly its poppy kinda just taking in the Phenomenom of people in her life #Actually talking about their time at the troll tree bc when she asks for advice all vivas knowledge link back #to what peppy taught her back at bergentown #and peppy has the spine to not run away for once but he is still slightly kinda minorly scared of his eldest daughter #but. they make do.#i know most of these ended up kinda crude and its bc i rushed these but im really happy w poppys weird grimaces #i want to draw her more experiencing Emotions #ok. done yapping. remember okay. royal pop fam. ok. thank you. boops you #happy halloween (post not relevant at all)

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stars-obsession-pit · 1 month ago

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Hello! Can do a chapter fic off this fic prompt Danny phantom x dc: https://www.tumblr.com/corkinavoid/767516270934556672/dpxdc-legal-power?source=share

This isn’t a one-to-one recreation of that dialogue but it’s based on that as a framework/premise

Batman dropped down into the room behind a pair of figures—a teenage boy and a slumped adult—letting his landing create an audible thump to alert them of his presence.

If the teen noticed, he didn’t react. Even as Bruce approached, he continued to stare impassively at the wheezing figure on the ground, an old wooden bat with flaking green paint on its side loosely held in his right hand. Bruce had already suspected who the figure would be since he arrived, but seeing the Joker so broken was still bizarre. No laughing, no schemes. He didn’t even seem to be attempting to escape his binds, just… lying there, almost as if pinned in place.

Bruce paused a step behind the teen. “I don’t know what the Joker did to you, but this isn’t the right way to go about this.”

The teen scoffed, and Bruce felt a painful lurch in his chest as he was reminded oh so strongly of his son Jason. “And what, let him go kill more people?”

“I know he deserves to face justice, but not like this. Everyone deserves a right to fair trial. No one person should be judge, jury, and executioner.”

The teen turned to look at him with glowing green eyes, and Batman felt himself freeze. He had faced gods before, yet even using that as a comparison felt like an understatement. The boy’s eyes belonged to someone far older than his teenage form implied, and they radiated power. Inevitability.

When the teen—no, the entity—spoke again, his words carried an unearthly echo. “Perhaps, but I’m not acting for just myself.” He paused, glanced down at the Joker, then asked almost conversationally, “Do you know how many people he’s killed?”

Another pause, but before Bruce could even try to answer, the entity continued, “Eight hundred and fifty-six. He’s ended the lives of eight hundred and fifty-six human souls. I can tell you about every single one, if you want. About who they were, what their dreams were before he killed them. About the pain they felt at his hands.”

He punctuated the word ‘pain’ by raising up the wooden bat in his hands and ramming its end down onto the Joker’s arm. He let out a wheeze, muffled by the gag in his mouth.

“I have a duty to my people. I am the King of the In-Between and of all the souls that pass through it—even ones whose stays were as brief as his. I am the rightful arbiter of his fate. And with that power, I sentence him to death.”

He raised the bat again, adjusting his grip so he’d hit with the side rather than the end this time, then paused and let out a chuckle. “Of course, just because it’s based on some justice doesn’t mean I can’t have a bit of fun with it too.” He swung the bat down, slamming it into the Joker’s side, then hooked it under the clown’s torso and flicked him up through the air to slam into the wall. “We all really hate this guy.”

With the entity’s attention fully turned away from him as he sauntered towards the Joker’s slumped figure, Bruce could finally unfreeze himself.

Even if the Ghost King did have the right to pass judgement on Joker, Bruce still couldn’t let torture go on like this. He wouldn’t win a direct fight, but he could hopefully at least grab the Joker and bring him over to the police. Carefully, he reached for some of the smoke bombs and batarangs on his belt and readied his grapple. He’d have to do this very, very fast.

But before he could move, another figure entered the scene. Red Hood, emerging from the shadows on the far side of the room, an unexpected bit of a pep to his step.

“Nice to see someone else who gets that that bastard needs to die. But if I may make a suggestion, how ‘bout you use a crowbar instead of that old bat? It’d be a bit more… fitting.”

#asks #prompt fill #btw about that kill count number - the dc wiki page on “Joker’s body count” said two numbers 671+ and 185+ (for different continuities?)#so i just added those two together to get a plausible-ish –feeling exact value for “671+”#danny fenton kills the joker #ghost king danny fenton #also i know Bruce is sorta the antagonist here but I’m trying my best to present him fairly #a vigilante having a code against killing people is a good thing! right to fair trial is important!#yeah the Joker probably should be executed but I don’t think Bruce is a bad person for not doing it himself #the legal system exists!! why are you asking the extrajudicial vigilante who specifically has a no-kill rule to do it??#i feel like Joker getting sentenced to death would be the “logical” end to the situation; the Joker is gone and Batman’s code is intact #(you know. were it “real life” and not a comic with the whole “we’re not gonna kill off someone that iconic!” thing)#and also him planning to step in against Danny isn’t about “the joker has to live” it’s about “torture is wrong”#he’s (cautiously) believing of the “legal right” part so if they showed the legal sentence and executed him “cleanly” he’d be fine #(obviously he supports reforming criminals but in the Joker’s case I think he’d accept a fair trial saying “death” as okay)#or in other words Batman isn’t pro-life; he’s pro-choice(-by-the-courts) (/hj)#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #danny phantom x dc #danny phantom x dc crossover #dpxdc the joker #dpxdc bruce wayne #dpxdc jason todd #also btw i’m sorry danny’s words are so pretentious/OOC feeling (well. at least to me they are)#it feels awkward to me too but it felt kinda necessary to match the vibe of the original thing #maybe he’s sorta sharing his thoughts with some judicial-y ghosts or etc who are influencing it #i did specifically want to imply the victims are affecting him at least a little (echoey voice + “*we* hate him”)#or maybe he’s just been King for a long while and has had time to get a bit more “kingly”

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emiliagrant · 11 months ago

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Buck and Tommy ♡ flirty, kinky and in love

#911edit #911 #911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #911 spoilers #buck x tommy #tevan #mine #what is it with this hate? I can't look in the tags #that scene was there to show #1. Tommy cares about Buck #asking if HE IS OKAY #2. Buck opening up 3. Tommy opening up #4. and lighting the mood with Tommys smooth flirting and teasing which Buck picks up on #Buck brought the daddy issues up. Tommy was rolling with it and Buck smiled the whole way through #thats my take on it anyway. I just think the writers wanted to end bucktommy this season on a happy note #I loved that for them #I'm happy that all the people I follow are on board with it #just let them be #so to all the haters #whom I think just don't like Tommy #please grow up #there are bigger problems in the world than a little kink mention in a tv show #anyway #thanks for coming to my ted talk

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felsicveins · 1 year ago

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His heart belongs to another

And no other heart will do

#no other heart by mac demarco : D #I drew this a couple of days ago because i was feeling crazy and i just love the idea that #these two should be great together!! they should!!! but #theyre not together #theres just . theyre missing something #and thats okay!!! its not meant to be #and theyre friendship is very valuble to both of them!!#their* fuck my baka keyboard #trolls #yall are gonna be mad about this one i feel it ...#i think we all know who jds gonna end up with now right ...#i just gotta .. draw them more 💀#i actully have the perfect ruveal i just have to finish painting it #urrgg i HATE painting #trolls oc #trolls oc cory #trolls movie #trolls john dory #trolls jd #john dory #jd ex husband #oh uhh i imagine this feels like a new years thing. or something #something that happened like right after they reconnected #before floyd and cory started going out #on god one day im gonna put all my tags lore into a post #i just shy 😔 who wants to read all this in a caption #not me brother!! I'm not reblogging that shit!!!#and im not finishing this cause i dont wanna give false hope 😘#although jd dating sim ... is pretty real #i would love to do endings with all his exs

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fatedroses · 8 months ago

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And some days, I just wish you wouldn't look at me at all.

#ffxiv #sketch #wol #meteor survivor #zenos yae galvus #adventurer zenos #oh no #its the consequences of his actions #everything is fine until the only man on the star you care about looks at you with the same contempt your father did #(Meteor's not doing it intentionally- its a reflex after he comes back for quite a bit)#and zenos is getting bodied because its been a while since... you know... him being able to really feel anything at all #and no- its not him regretting anything that had to do with varis- just him regretting the thought meteor could look at him like that #little does Meteor know he's emotionally bodying the man he's trying to be cordial with #its a little okay because in how I write adventurer zenos this serves as one of his main wake-up calls to make some changes #and realizing both the mistakes he's made with meteor and that meteor hating him in any way is actually -not at all- what he wants #but not okay on the end that every time meteor does this he has to watch zenos actively dissociate right in front of him #until zenos just kinda autopilots and walks away #the second time (or perhaps third) in the last 11 years that zenos has felt regret to any major capacity-#on meteor's end I just enjoy seeing the progression of the WoL through subtext #and why meteor is willing to even entertain the idea despite how much he hates zenos- his decisions and the path he's walked #is the realization that there is high chance that he could actually be a direct catalyst for zenos' growth #and the realization the wol has that they were the only one zenos has ever genuinely reached out to #besides- i just like the idea of having your equal other half fighting back to back with you- or being able to handle threats you cant #and i find their dynamic neat- of meteor not forgiving zenos but giving him his last chance- and growing to enjoy being around him #and zenos being able to work on moving past being the weapon or the monster- finding the connections he's longed for #and giving himself purpose to finally truly just live- for him to learn to experience and have the freedom to find what he enjoys #(and curiously him having estinien's brand of accidently helping people even in StB gives me ideas...)#but enough tag ranting- ill get to zenos' actual adventuring in another post lol

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kenzan-brainrot-mp4 · 1 month ago

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talk more about the white whale/whale symbolism in general whatever thoughts you have on the whale stuff i want to hear it 👂

GRAHHHHH YEAH (This one got. Long (again lol) So be prepared (series-wide spoilers but I feel like that's a given atp))

First of all I just wanna say that I love how rgg drags the player along around the final chapter title. With how upfront the other chapter titles are in what they're referring to, you might end up wondering why they chose White Whale for the final chapter title once you see the title card (or at least I did). Of course, this could just be referring to the treasure that everyone's been looking for, but with how nonchalantly they react to the fact that the treasure isn't actually there, it doesn't seem to completely fit the bill.

But then you beat the game (and by this I mean beat the final boss) and lo and behold, there's an Actual white whale, and so you think "Oh! Duh, the chapter's called White Whale because there's a literal white whale and it pretty much just finished off the final boss!" But that still doesn't make that much sense. Why name the final chapter (arguably the most important one) after some whale that appears in the last like 15 minutes of the game? Like, take the final chapter name of (Kiryu) Gaiden, it's literally the name of the game (The Man Who Erased His Name) so it's gotta be something more significant than that, right? (But then of course take into the account that by this point the player is still convinced that nothing really in pyih is too deep/serious, so maybe it could just be something as simple as that).

Then you get to the credits, and they reveal that the "elixir"/the ambergris is found in the stomachs of whales. Damn, that's pretty crazy/cool, but once again, nobody that was actively seeking the treasure (Rodriguez, Jason/Noah, Spade Tucker, etc you know the drill) seems to hung up on the fact that they didn't find it, and they didn't even encounter the whale, so they wouldn't get that same sense that they just missed it either, again, it's not a big deal really, so why make that the final chapter title?

Of course, we all know what this builds up to: the big reveal, the fact that Majima, who we've been following along with this entire game, was looking for that elixir this entire time, was the only one to actually encounter a whale in the game, and then there's the insane line drop from Saejima.

"Kiryu Kazuma. You never could give up on that one."

Ironically, the final chapter title has nothing to do with that whale you saw earlier at all, rather it's a summary of what Majima's motivations/actions for this game, and the past. Almost every game, has meant for him. It's what Saejima spells out for us at the end of the game, but said in even fewer words.

An all-consuming obsession that only leads to your destruction. An impossibility, something that you can destroy yourself over but never achieve/obtain. This is what the white whale means, metaphorically. And it is this, exactly, that Kiryu is to Majima.

Kiryu is larger than life itself, to just about everyone. He's a legend, he's the one Majima has had his sights on since the very beginning, the legend he chases after game after game and also what he destroys himself over game after game.

(see:

Yakuza 1 -> Majima just straight up taking a full-on stab wound for Kiryu. Like, buddy, I literally saw one of my favorite characters die that way in another game, there was No guarantee you were surviving that.

Yakuza 2 -> Majima fights off an army of yakuza for Kiryu. That man was beat to total Shit (which is Not something that happens often) and we all saw it

Yakuza 3 -> Majima re-enters the Tojo Clan for Kiryu even though he is (extremely likely) aware that it is already entering its steady decline that we see throughout the rest of the series up until its dissolution. And while he's willing to do it for Kiryu, we can't exactly say that he's happy about the situation as a whole.

Yakuza 5 -> Majima's willingness to die for Haruka, specifically stated because "She means more to Kiryu-chan than life itself." Like, of course he wouldn't just let Haruka get killed, but to choose to mention Kiryu as part of his reasoning in that moment? Christ

While I (surprisingly) can't say anything particularly self-destructive happened in (Kiryu) Gaiden and Infinite Wealth, you could argue that Majima trying to more and more directly tell Kiryu not to leave ("No need to rush outta here yet... Alright?" -> "Don't leave! Don't you dare leave, Kiryu-chan!"), knowing that it's likely pointless, knowing Kiryu, is not doing himself any favors.

Pirate Yakuza -> *gestures at the entire game*

Also his reaction to encountering that giant squid ("Sure is a helluva way to die. I think I'm into it!"). Like, okay. I don't want to try and read too much into it because it was very likely just a one off line. But I'm still gonna side-eye it.

Honestly now that I think about it, if Majima Had died fighting that giant squid (that is such a way to begin a sentence thank you rgg), you could argue that that would've been his nail in the coffin for the white whale metaphor. If he had, it would've meant that his obsession for Kiryu is what got him dragged down into the literal depths of the ocean, and even if it wouldn't be Kiryu physically dragging Majima down like the white whale to Ahab, this is a situation that is completely, entirely, fueled by Majima's obsession towards him (Majima had no real interest in the nuclear waste cleanup project, after all, Kiryu was his one motivation this entire time), and it would've drowned him.

Guess that means he got real lucky with the last part, but we all know he sure as hell isn't beating the allegations.)

All this and yet Majima seems to fail to reaching Kiryu time and time again.

Majima does not obtain the Heart of the Dragon, found in the intestines of the literal whale. He does not obtain eternal life for Kiryu. And he (arguably, though the final scene of him walking to Kiryu's hospital room could oppose this) does not resolve the indefinite limbo that has been sitting between them throughout the entire series. What he gets at the end of the game is the acknowledgement (through Saejima, everybody thank him) that he has been obsessing over this, and perhaps the realization that Kiryu was, in fact, this white whale that he would never truly reach ("Well, still just a dream in the end.") Of course this is something he already knows/has acknowledged deep down, and it's a feeling that is hinted at in some of his dialogue in scattered moments, but this is the first time he ever says it in such an outright manner.

I guess in a way, you could say that Pirate Yakuza is a story about the newfound success of all the people Majima helped and supported in achieving their dreams, and the continued failure of Majima in pursuing his own (Kiryu), and him needing to acknowledge/accept that. And the post-credits begs the question of what he decides to do with the aftermath and what he has left. (An oversimplification definitely but still. augh. Augh)

Naming the final chapter White Whale was yet another crazy move on rgg's part. Its so unassuming, seemingly straightforward yet also seemingly insignificant, but once the realization dawns on you it slaps you right in the face, just like everything else about this game does. It's yet another instance of how rgg managed to pull its big reveal so well, with all the small details, all the reframing, all pointing back to the same topic that it had spent the entire rest of the game dancing around.

Majima recounting his story of how he went to Hawaii -> Majima recounts his story to Kiryu in the exact same way at the very end

The treasure everyone's been looking for/known about + Majima, the one guy who didn't have knowledge about any of this legend stuff prior? -> Wrong, he was after the treasure from the very start (before the amnesia at least). For Kiryu

Majima originally being on course for Hawaii so he could help with the nuclear waste cleanup even though he'd be bored as hell? -> Nah. For Kiryu (Ohhhhh you know what this is reminding me of some screenshots I took from near the beginning of the game)

(I'm sure this meant nothing of course. Lol. Lmao)

Majima's dream during pirate yakuza being to fulfill Other People's dreams -> Haha. Well, I think you get the point by now

Kiryu, Kiryu, Kiryu. It all goes back to Kiryu, every single time, without fail, in an obsessive loop that Majima has been dragging himself around over for Years. He is the white whale, seemingly untouchable, the constant object of Majima's attention and devotion in so many forms, his consistent weak point, that only seems to dig at him deeper as the games go on.

Like I said before, while the white whale metaphor is undeniable, and essentially spells doom for Majima, it's not over for him yet. Because, hey, he didn't drown at sea, or die on the beach. He was saved, and he's survived enough to retell that tale and reflect on it all with Saejima in the post-credits, brief as that reflection was. I mentioned before how he really only said one line of any actual substance during that specific part of the exchange, but the significance of it says so much.

"Well, still just a dream in the end"

As much as it hurts to here Majima address the hopelessness of it all, to hear him say something like that after Saejima basically just laid out his sheer devotion and refusal to give up on his dream for everyone to see, I think the bittersweetness is. Good, actually. Captain Ahab never gave up on that pursuit on the white whale, and it destroyed him; that whale dragged him down until he finally drowned, and it feels like all Majima has been doing over Kiryu since Yakuza 3 is drowning himself in him.

Don't get me wrong, I (for now at least) do not take that line as a complete admittance of defeat, or Majima finally giving up on Kiryu, on that dream he could never let go of. (Like I've been saying, it's an acknowledgement, not exactly a declaration.) I do not think it means he is just letting go, full-stop.

But I do hope it means he can stop himself from self-destructing completely. I hope it means that he can slow down with the wild chase, (and that he and Kiryu can just. Sit down and talk like fucking normal people. Which i guess they are doing in the post-credits, supposedly) and I hope it means that he won't drown completely, especially in the case of the worst possible scenario.

#asks #yakuza #pirate yakuza spoilers #pirate yakuza in hawaii #like a dragon pirate yakuza in hawaii #majima goro #kazumaji #rgg #okay confession time i'm saying all this but i've never actually read the moby dick novel myself :skull: maybe it's time to change that #i think this is my favorite ask answer i've written. i think it comfortably covers all the bases of my thoughts on the ending #that i've been scattering throughout like 6 different posts all week. I think this is me finally gathering all my thoughts #after all that processing. God i hate them so much it's so doomed it's like not even funny #I still remember when they were mostly just silly and things were fine and I could laugh at Majima's shenaniganary #then I played y3 and have been miserable ever since (<- enjoying it)#kenzan was probably their best shot at something good and normal and mutually beneficial but we are Long past those days #so here we are </33 never thought i'd see the day where i'd think of whales and associate them with kazumaji of all things but Shit Happens #sorry this was just supposed to be me talking about whale symbolism but it blew up into like a whole Thing. So it goes LOL #bro what were they EATING the day they wrote this i Need to know. and also can i have some #certified yap sessions

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shitty-proendo-blackout-posts · 5 months ago

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endos are systems.

you are cool. YOU. ARE. A. SYSTEM.

#endo safe <3

#“can we also talk about the fact that people with safe & healthy households WANT TRAUMA?” yeah actually lets talk about that #because the people who “want trauma” *are* actually traumatized! but (like with many cases of trauma) they dont remember it.#what they *want* is an explanation. a reason for why theyre like this.#anyone who has had an undiagnosed disorder knows the feeling of thinking you're just broken. and wanting nothing more than an explanation.#this is also why some people find themselves in the radqueer community. i know this isnt something i talk about much but its relevant here.#you feel like you should have trauma but you dont have any? thats okay! there a term for that! you're not broken! you're not alone!#theres an welcoming community of people just like you! where you can be accepted for who you are! no matter what!#“people from safe and healthy households want trauma” no we dont. we want an explanation.#i hate talking about radqueers but i used to id as transharmed in many ways and ended up actually being traumatized‚#i feel like its important to include that angle.#lol.exe #blackout poetry #pro endo #endo safe #endo friendly #jesus christ i talk too much

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initialsaint · 1 month ago

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Dain in Fourth Wing is infinitely more understandable when you look at things from his POV.

He watched his best friend get effectively sentenced to death by her own mother when Violet was put into the Riders' Quadrant, having trained to be a scribe her whole life. He has also watched her deal with her disability and knows how it works- he's had to reset her joints himself. She immediately has multiple people who want her dead and aren't shy about it. Her own wingleader wants her dead and has the power to do it without repercussions. Dain is her superior too, sure, but he has to answer to the main guy who wants to kill her. On top of all that he has spent a year away from her watching people who've trained for years to be riders die every weak.

And it's not like Violet wants to be a rider at first. It's easy to forget three books in, but she starts out fully convinced she's going to die. She has never given the slightest impression that she wants to be a rider. When Dain says he can sneak her out, at first she says no because her mother will force her back, not because she wants to be a rider. He saw her passion for scribehood before that life was taken away from her. He saw how much she looked up to her dad.

Dain doesn't know what she's thinking or understand why she WANTS this because it completely contradicts everything he's known about her their entire lives. The whole "we climbed trees together" doesn't do the fact that they really did grow up together justice. Before he left for Basgiath Dain would've known her better than her own mother. Of course he's confused.

And he gets more confused when she's suddenly in some sort of something with her direct superior who also wanted her dead. Yeah, they're adults, but Xaden is very much in charge of her and did not hide his intentions. We as readers see what happened, but Dain has no idea, and is rightfully concerned. It's not just out of jealousy (though it plays a part) it's because to an outsider the whole thing is insane.

We see things from Violet's perspective, so we see how insulted she is that Dain sees her as lesser or not capable of surviving as a rider. We don't see Dain's utter internal desperation to not let his best friend- and at that point, the woman he loves- die.

He definitely fucked up in FW, and deserved the treatment he got from Violet, but honestly a lot of his actions were justified.

#plus its easy to forget because its a book and we're just reading it but these are supposed to be real people #OF COURSE HES CRASHING THE FUCK OUT?#also why do we get mad at dain for not liking her relationship with xaden but not mira #and dont say its motivation because mira hates xaden on SIGHT for being a child of the rebellion.#dain is jealous and RIGHTFULLY CONFUSED but mira straight up thinks xaden is the devil because of his dad. okay.#more dainposting because i finished OS today and i have THOUGHTS #i kinda miss FW now with how OS ended...#and im scrolling through the tag and so much of it is dain hatred. even in unrelated tags.#so i need to share #the empyrean #fourth wing #dain aetos

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rainybraindays · 28 days ago

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No but actually, if you genuinely think Debling was good for Penelope or better than Colin because "he cared about her from the beginning" you're actually just silly.

Like first off this man genuinely had no deep connect to her at all. In episode 1 when they initially meet, he's a little flirtatious yeah, but ultimately thats not caring that essentially flirting at a house party, and he immediately couples it with completely ignoring her distress after Cressida rips her dresss and leaving to just not be seen again until episode 3. And when he shows up again, his behavior is very much similar to ep 1, where he proceeds for that episode to entertain both her and Cressida. Because to him it didn't matter which one of them he married, he was going to marry one, point blank. He chose the two most isolated girls in the ton, who had little to no friends, and pit them against each other until one couldn't fake it anymore and he decided "yeah she'll be good enough." You can't really argue he doesn't, because he does nothing to stop their rivalry for his attention until Penelope says she can't continue faking an intrest in birds.

Like his relationship with Penelope is so surface level its not funny, they don't know anything about each other, he seems to have no desire to learn. All he wants is, essentially a socially acceptable fuckable servant. Penelope reveals she loves reading and romance? He goes "damn, well you aren't getting that from me" and then drops the bomb that basically immediately after they marry hes leaving her for 3 years(longer because he will die but whatever) and expects her to be okay with it. Penelopes job as his wife, in his eyes, is to hopefully get pregnant in the little bit of time they spend together, and then to watch over his house. He even tells her he doesn't think he could ever love her, and while Penelope acts fine with that, she is a romantic. Penelope legitimately would not be happy in this relationship, and it would never get a chance to improve because this man is so indifferent and uncaring about his potential bride he's planning to fuck off immediately after marrying her.

He also, very clearly doesn't even respect her? Like by the time they're meant to be getting engaged, you'd think he'd have a higher opinion of her, or some actual faith in her abilities to be a loyal wife when they marry, but he doesn't. He lets Colin cut into their dance, and has no issue with that, likely because he views her similar to how she views herself, a relatively undesirable girl he doesn't have to worry about drawing attention as he was her only suitor, but the moment Cressida mentions they're childhood friends? The moment he puts 2 and 2 together about her actual reason for sitting in the window? He gets pissed, and leaves, seemingly planning to fully ghost Penelope, and when she confronts him to try and calm him down he essentially calls her a whore. For..what? Having a crush before they met? A crush that she thinks at that moment is one-sided, a crush that she was willing to bury to be his good little wife, he sees that and says shes untrustworthy, because he believes she'll cheat on him first chance she gets. And then he fucks off.

If he actually cared about her how some of you claim, her crush on Colin wouldn't matter, and he wouldn't have subtly slut shamed her for it. If he cared even a little, he would have at least shown up later to apologize for his behavior and either wish her well or try and sway her back to him. But he doesn't, none of those things happen because he doesn't see her past the ability she had to manage his estates and give him heirs.

He legitimately doesn't see her any different than how Anthony saw Edwina, and the idea that Penelope should have settled for that? That she should have given up being with the love of her life in order to be with this man that is seemingly considerably older than her, who doesn't care much for her past her ability to do the only two things he actually cares about in regards for a wife? Thats insane, like did you pay attention at all? If he cared for her at all he wouldn't have immediately left society, but he does, not because hes heart broken, but because his ego got bruised and hes pissed he has to start his search again, that his "find the loneliest girl in the room and marry her" plan wasn't a success.

Debling would not have been a good match for Penelope, and she wouldn't be happy with him. And despite what you guys seem to think, Colin has always cared about her, he was just her friend first which isn't a bad thing. He has always defended her, always been kind to her, and he didn't let another man ruin his chances with her.

Penelope got her happy ending, stop pretending she was robbed.

#rainy talks #bridgerton #penelope featherington #alfred debling #lord debling #colin bridgerton #i may take his name off this lol #but genuinely debling would have been a BAD ending for Penelope #y'all just hate that Colin didn't have to have a breakdown to prove to Penelope that he loved her #or that he was sorry for what he said #WHILE DRUNK MIND YOU #y'all are mad over things a drunk 20 something said? girl a drunk 20 something literally just be saying shit #and also the idea that he *didn't*care about her; his literal best friend;#because he didn't want to put his dick in her the second she was a legal adult? is weird #colin saw his friend; who was still being dressed as a young girl mind you #and thats okay #hes allowed to take time? moving from friendship to more isn't easy for everyone?#that doesn't mean alfred“i can't love you i love my work” debling is suddenly the best choice for her #genuinely its like you hate her sometimes #why would anyone want her to end up with that man

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omegastation · 2 months ago

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gonna be real vulnerable with you all, i've just been diagnosed as autistic. i won't make more posts about it, just making this one to ask if any of you are in the same situation and maybe have resources to share?

i'm diagnosed just now as a 35 years old woman who has a demanding job and is struggling a bit to keep up with it, so it's not an entire shock to me but i still feel a bit lost. i think i've been masking my entire life and the energy is just not there anymore

i don't know what to read, what to check, what can help and also, what not to read or check.

any help would be appreciated! (and you can message me if you'd rather not answer here.) thank you

#i have no idea how okay or not it is to talk about it #but i don't want to add a tw to this #i also don't want to tag it #but just this once i'm asking #i've been looking at things online of course #but honestly i'm scared i end up reading things i shouldn't #because i wouldn't know what is really good or not #and i know that people really hate some organizations #like Autism Speaks. but i don't know if a book like #unmasking autism by devon price is worth reading #i don't want a bug in my head. not another one

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aihaloos · 10 months ago

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Tempted to write a replaced au twst fic where Yuu (or alternatively, I'll use my Yuu, Riyuu, who is basically who I'm writing this for) used to be the cutest girl around, the cheery one who's always around everyone, the one you can't seem to dislike even if your crush falls for her because she earnestly says sorry (even though it's not her fault) and will always help you out if you need her back in her old school. But one day, a new girl comes around and her whole reputation got destroyed. She helps the new girl adjust, tells her all the rumours and introduces her to all the popular kids. But the girl ends up backstabbing her, telling the popular girls rumours about how she intentionally plays up the act to steal their crushes to her, and lies to the boys, telling them she's just playing with their hearts and that she's a horrible person.

Yuu ends up alone and excluded, being seen as "annoying" and only having a few close friends who doesn't really interact with her in public in fear of their reputation being ruined. She ends up miserable at school, and wishes to not go anymore. But one day comes a saving grace, she gets whisked by a mysterious black carriage into Twisted Wonderland, or more specifically, Night Raven College. She doesn't mind working if it meant she doesn't have to deal with her old school, there was still 1 and a half years left of school and she doesn't want to deal with all ghe group projects to be assigned that will inevitably end with everyone not wanting to team up with her. Plus, as annoying Grim is, he's like the animal friend all of the anime and storybook protagonists she knows has, and she doesn't mind him too much.

Some things did change after she and Grim got officially enrolled, but she had no problem adapting to the social expectations of the world, part time jobs with Sam -- and occasionally the canteen -- paid enough to get her tools for cooking basic but delicious food, and new friends without the weight of her past helped her get settled comfortably.

The existence of Overblots stunned her for a bit, but a peek into Riddle and Leona's memories helped her understand the concept, even if just a little. However, things began to change eerily simlarly to her old school when a new girl comes, also in a similar position to her, getting transported to a new, unfamilliar world, and seemingly hailing from a similar world to the Earth she knows. She warmly welcomes her, eager to finally befriend another girl, but it seems that the girl does not share the same enthusiasm.

The girl only barely responds to Yuu's attempts at forming a friendship, and always seems to talk her in a condescending way, and often dismisses her, and especially so whenever there are any boys around.

Yuu will not deny any statements claiming she's an attention seeker or that she plays up her sweet innocent girl act, but she knows to never, ever sacrifice a bystander for it. But if someone insists on war with her... well that's another, different story. She's learnt her lesson of being overly optimistic, and she will not make the same mistake twice. She will not let her make her life a living hell more than it already is with Crowley's irresponsibleness.

Aaand thus begins the story. Or well, however you wanna continue it. I'm honestly in favour of most Housewardens (Kalim, Vil, and Idia in particular. I'll put my reasoning in a few paragraphs down) Adeuce, Tweels, and Ortho for team Yuu. Why?

Well, first of all, Adeuce. This is mostly because the duo is like. with Yuu since Day 1, as much of a bitch as Ace is, I think those two are the most likely to trust and know Yuu well enough to not believe the lies R (< Replacer) tells. Especially Deuce, he doesn't want to betray a friend he knew for quite a while, that would not be very honor student-like of him!! And she helped him out in a lot of situations too! He doesn't want to hurt you after all the trouble you go through to help him, and also knowing how horrible your living conditions are. Ace would most likely give in to peer pressure if the student body is overwhelmingly in favour of R, but as of now, he maybe enjoys your company just a bit more than R. Just a bit, promise.

Tweels I feel like is self-explanatory. Those two are perceptive as fuck istg it scares me. Jade especially. I feel like the two would just toy with R for a bit despite her facade and lies before dropping her after she bothers them for attention and favours one too many times.

(Ortho ties in with Idia so I'll explain him in Idia's paragraph)

Kalim is actually very emotionally intelligent. He can come off annoying and stupid, but from all the scenes I see of him, he's actually really good at dealing with people. Have you seen how he deals with the Scarabia residents after Jamil's OB??? The way he phrases his sentences?? He didn't force or even plead with them to forgive Jamil, he simply asks them to wait before making permanent judgements, and I think he's gonna be uncomfy with how condescendingly R talks to Yuu, and even if he's used to people going after him for money, I feel like R mostly eyeing him for money and how she "secretly" sighs in annoyance everytime she goes out of the party for a "bathroom break" will only solidify his dislike/discomfort, even if he doesn't show it.

Vil is also kind of self-explanatory if you read into his character and not just the shell the official English localization makes for him. (I could rant for hours about how the official tl portrays his character istg. He's hardworking and he actually didn't attempt to poison Neige out of pure jealousy, he did it because he felt like all his efforts to be beautiful will never be able to surpass Neige, who, in his eyes, always seemed to be innocent and naturally beautiful. He feels like the villain in Neige's story. He feels like he is reduced to what he often plays as, a snobbish, overconfident villain obsessed with overthrowing the hero. And because of it, it became a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy, pushing him to, in a fit of despair, be that same villain everyone sees him as.) I really don't think he will take well to R's condescension to Yuu, who genuinely wants to befriend R. (I actually have a whole thing in my head where Yuu and Vil occasionally have sleepovers where they do skincare together after the whole VDC thing happened. I feel like this is also a "vent sesh" of sorts for the both of them, just to air out their grievances without much seriousness, and I think Yuu would admit to wanting a fellow girl in the school that she could befriend, since no matter what, being the only girl can be exhausting.) Ik Vil's not a girl but he is such a girls' girl istg.

Idia... this mostly ties into Ortho and The STYX Incident, but like,, I think we can all agree on this one,, Idia is smart and capital V Very pessimistic. Would you rather trust the girl you've known for a while, who saw your memories, who helped you in awkward social situations when she can and is besties with your brother or some random new girl who trash talks said girl behind her back? The former, right? Plus, even if Yuu did only hang out with him and his brother because she likes to secretly laugh at him behind his back, there's mo guarantee R wouldn't do the same, given his experience. And he would rather have someone who actively helps him and his brother out than someone who wouldn't.

I didn't put Malleus in because of how canon him actually treats Yuu. I feel like the fandom kind of put on rose-tinted glasses on with his character, and kind of ignored some things like, idk... him just leaving them to fend for themselves homeless during Octavinelle... maybe he thought Crowley would offer them a place to stay but like... I'm still bothered by how didn't atleast offer a spare room in Diasomnia. He's a housewarden goddamnit. He's not as distant or scary as the rumours say but like. still rubbed me the wrong way.

Anyways I don't think my attention span will let me write it to completion so if anyone likes this and wants to write it feel free. Pls tag me if you do tho. I would love to read it :3

#was listening to all eyes on me while writing this btw #You can also insert an Obey Me crossover with Replaced AU on that end that also ended horribly #“First' the worst; maybe third's the charm!”#I don't play Obey Me though so I can't rlly construct the narrative for that one #Also I don't hate Malleus nor Malleyuu I swear #I just think we're a bit biased with his actions sometimes...#Anyways if anyone wants to just ditch the school for RSA #Valid. You're 100% valid #I just got attached to Adeuce Kalim and Vil lol #I would just run to RSA if I ever get the chance tho #Fuck Crowley noone likes Crowley 🙂😇#twisted wonderland #twst #Do I tag twst x reader???#fuck it why not it's literally based on an entire angst au anyways #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #replaced au #twst replaced au #twisted wonderland replaced au #okay enough tags I'm tired #I'm not gonna tag the specific characters mentioned #I'm too tired and I don't wanna :3 #Also R is used for Replacer for this entire thing sorry #I haven't played twst for a long; looooong while but I like some of the boys too much to let go [sigh]#Also just bc it's fun to think about #Waiting for Limbus or HSR to get updated so take some twst brainrot in the meantime #I love Villainess manhwas #Ofc I would love Replaced AUs

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