#i like to imagine its the latter
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captain-ghost · 3 months ago
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So. When Jack and John reintroduce eachother with their new/fake names, they're obviously very similar. 'Captain Jack Harkness', 'Captain John Hart'. Do we think John heard Jack's name and then came up with a cover name on the spot right then and there, or do you think these two are just so unfortunately synced that they coincidentally stumbled upon similar cover names?
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coffeehelly · 2 years ago
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its really interesting to me how kaidou says he feels like saiki is protecting/looking out for all of them somehow. like do they all have some kind of innate sense that the Weird Things happening around them are saikis doing? or do you think saiki gives off a strong "if anything happens to my friends im going to become the joker" vibe that he doesnt even notice
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red-dragon-archfiend · 2 years ago
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I think the problem with internet horror is sometimes you get a good idea like Slenderman or the Backrooms and it catches on too much and suddenly there's all this extra lore and fan content and it kind of ruins the mystique of the whole thing because now not only do we know too much about it but there's all these separate canons and fandom things and it doesn't feel like an immersive horror experience anymore
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sneakystorms · 1 year ago
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Maybe I should've seen it coming with the weight placed on the concept of "desire" but i really wasn't expecting dungeon meshi to turn into a full on buddhist lecture
#s#dungeon meshi#not that I'm complaining! I'm into it#but yeah the lion's explanation of how desires only lead to momentary and unsustainable happiness..#marcille being tormented by her desires...#and the way senshi's early 'it's better to do it yourself' attitude is now echoed in how instantaneous fulfilment of marcilles desires#brings her no joy#senshi being the most zen of all the characters#dunmeshi really said 'the well of your desire is literally infinite and by trying to fill it up you condemn yourself to endless torment'#and i clapped#dungeon meshi spoilers#i guess#ah!!! and the lion's eyes are a symbol of infinity.... infinite desire...#i thought it was a keyhole at first haha#hmm now that i think abt it more. part of the fundamental lore of dunmeshi is 'things that are consumed cease to exist'#with eating monsters and with eating desires. so a boundary is being drawn between temporarily fulfilling a desire (the desire comes back#and the cycle continues) and consuming a desire (the desire is gone). the former is more positive#and plays into the circle of life/finding nirvana in repeatedly fulfilling your desires thing that senshi esp has going on#the latter is portrayed negatively as it seeks to 'once and for all' fulfill something that is by its nature infinite#true fulfillment lies in accepting the neverending struggle of temporarily satisfying one's desires... one must imagine sisyphus happy.....#im literally extrapolating multiple philosophy lectures from this manga i love it#in that way you could see the lion's struggle (to satisfy an infinite desire (for others' desires)) as worthwhile!#coming back AGAIN after like ten more pages of the lion's backstory#all the trouble he caused stemmed in some way from his attempts - actually from his ABILITY - to fulfill every desire presented to him#the story seems to imply it would've been better if ppl had been allowed to struggle to fulfil their desires instead of having them granted
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gothmods · 2 years ago
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But also if someone really is going to decide to do absolutely nothing with their life despite being thrown a rope on multiple ocassions i would still rather they do that nothing in a clean and safe home. If someone is going to neglect their own physical and emotional wellbeing i would still rather they recieve the same standard of care as someone who doesnt.
Because i dont know if we can ~save~ everyone so to speak. As in i dont know if we can fix all those wrongs in a persons life that have lead to that point. Preventing them from happening to begin with feels less daunting than confronting the baggage thats mounted up over years. A chunk of that is at the end of the day down to them.
But i still want everyone to have a level of dignity in life yknow?
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chuckling-chemist · 1 year ago
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Do people generally keep the name Tav when writing Baldurs Gate 3 fanfic or do they use their own name
Asking for a friend (me)
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darabeatha · 2 years ago
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Interesting bits about characters I write & how these bits appear in f.ate part ???:
/  Ashwatthama: he could not lift the Sudarshana Chakra (the huge wheel he swings around in fgo) when he asked for it to Sri Kirshna as its mentioned in the Puranas. Upon realizing the inmense power Sri Kirshna had over being able to hold the weapon, Ashwatthama was so embarrassed that he returned it back to Sri krishna and left the place. Curiously enough, despite not having used it (as he was physically unable to do so), in fate he seems to swing it around as easily as a floatie, being able to even kick it forward like a football.
The explanation his bio gives is that apparently, the Sudarshana Chakra he uses is something he can wield only when summoned as a servant, and one whom he taught himself how to use. Now why it appears with him? I’m not sure, personally i’m thinking of two posibilities, one being that maybe it could be a sorts of replica of the original, and the other explanation being related to the whole matter where servants incorporate into their heroic spirit code certain things that might not exactly have taken place in their story but that are so associated to them in the mind of people that they end up being granted to the heroic spirits as servants. The reason im thinking about this posibility is because of Ash’s own dialogue lines about the weapon itself and how he seems rather confused/surprised about it himself?
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royalreef · 2 years ago
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(( Honestly, if the mer-version of any given character is involved with the royals and the Merkingdom system of royalty, then they are automatically going to be SO much worse than their initial self. There’s just no way they get involved with or born into that system and remain happy and without a truly nightmarish amount of blood on their hands.
There’s a reason it just feels too bad to talk about mer-Vera or mer-Damien in detail.
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rassicas · 8 months ago
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How do Inklings and Octolings bathe?
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some headcanons+doodles about how i think inklings and octolings (inkfish) bathe, taking the water weakness into account. I think it's boring to ignore the water weakness and it is undeniably canon, see this post for more info!
I've heard ideas like ink-based piping or attachments that change water as it comes out into ink, but imo the former sounds expensive to install everywhere, most species aren't ink based and like water, and even inklings and octolings still use water. The latter seems too... magical?
I also wanted to keep it simple. high pressure mist showers or bath bombs are modern inventions, but sitting at the edge of a hot spring and wiping ones body down with a damp sea sponge is something i can imagine an inkling doing 1000 years ago if they had that bathing culture.
These are just a few ideas. The way we humans bathe differs depending on culture and time, and even the individual, and I'm sure there would be truth to that for inkfish too.
(final note, suction cup teeth on inklings aren't canon LOL but since its a trait some species of real squids have, i think there would be inklings that have it too.) anyway if you want to adopt these headcanons, then please do<3
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cryolyst · 1 year ago
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sttoru · 9 months ago
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[ 𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 ]
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. the king of curses cannot fight off his primal urges and thus you suffer the consequences.
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, angst (w/ comfort), p.orn with mostly plot. mäting press. choking. rough like.. condescendingly rough. objectification. toxic relationship? yes. small hint of creampiē. double cawks. reader gets called ‘slut, girl, woman’ wc: 3.9k
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“look at that slutty cunt takin’ my cock. think i wanna try fitting both at once in that lil’ hole. keh,” sukuna grunts as he looks down at you from above. your legs are burning from being folded in half—matter of fact—your entire body is aching.
any normal person would call out their safeword in a situation like this. you’re overwhelmed to the point that your brain doesn’t know what to do. you’re experiencing euphoria, yet feel like your doom is right around the corner.
you’re playing with fire whenever you’re intimate with the king of curses.
it’s too addictive to stop. being his favorite concubine has given you enough motivation to push through any difficulties. any discomfort your body feels, is automatically discarded and replaced with drowning pleasure. it’s like sukuna has put a spell on you; one that’s unbreakable.
“fffnghh—my lord,” you gasp for air as one of his big hands wrap tightly around your throat. your airway is blocked, nearly crushed by sukuna’s immense force. you get a flashback to the last time he’s choked you, how sukuna nearly lost control of his own strength.
your eyes are watery as your insides follow each thrust. back and forth, in and out. it is a simple rhythm, but you cannot get enough. the harsh and sticky echoes of skin slapping against skin are nearly ear deafening. his heavy balls bounce against the plush flesh of your ass with every move, ready to unload everything they’ve stored.
“shut up,” sukuna spits, looking down at you like you’re but a mere insect. perhaps you were exactly that to him in the heat of the moment. his red eyes show that he’s losing himself. that cruel yet greedy look only intensifies with the second, “you only speak when y’re spoken to—or did y’ forget your damn place?”
you swallow your words and resort to simple moaning after you apologise, “i’m sorry, m’lord.” your blurry vision creates a trippy illusion, giving sukuna eight arms and eyes. not only are you seeing double, the feeling of ecstasy is twice as strong. you feel like you’re being ripped apart from the inside.
you can’t speak about it. you’re not allowed to open your mouth unless it’s to moan or breathe. perhaps even the latter is too much to ask. your fingers shake as they wrap around sukuna’s wrist. you try to tug at the hand that is wrapped around your throat, but your strength is gone.
your body is shaking violently with each thrust. you can’t keep up with anything that’s happening. you’re unable to process the feeling of sukuna’s second cock trying to prod its way into your cunt as well. you’re going to break — he’s going to break you.
you want to speak up and tell him you can’t take both in the same hole at once. it’s an impossible task; one can’t even fit that easily. he’s girthy and got an immense length, an inhuman one you’ve never seen before. you swear you can feel him in your tummy. the tip feeling like it's nestled right underneath your belly button.
sukuna scoffs as you tighten up around his lower cock. you’re weak; a weak human who he can’t seem to get out of his mind. he wants to exploit that obedience of yours today—to ruin you mentally and physically.
he can’t ignore those urges to ruin that what causes him weakness. he wishes to regain the power over himself again. that can only be done by consuming you, removing you from existence.
“i can’t fuckin’ stand you,” sukuna growls, his eyes darkening beyond imagination, “y’re always in the way.” you’re scared of the king of curses, which rarely happens. the last time you were afraid of his monstrous aura was during your first encounter in the woods. his manly hand squeezes your throat until you’re genuinely struggling to breathe.
there’s an unmistakable sense of danger boiling in your guts. this is the real nature of the curse named ryomen sukuna. the man above you, who’s drilling his cock into you while you’re suffering, is the real deal.
the true face of the man you thought you knew.
“i’m gonna get rid of you, y’hear? after this, y’re nothing,” sukuna pants, sweat droplets falling onto your cheeks from above. he looks like he’s internally fighting with himself. the expression on his face tells you enough. you want to reach a hand out towards his cheek and hold it.
he looks beautiful, even when he spews such serious threats at you. your cunt is burning and holding tightly onto his cock, even when you realise it may break you.
you’ve stayed for so long with him, even when you know you’ll one day die at his side or by his hands.
locks of his pink hair stick to his forehead. sweat rolls down those black tattoos. all four red eyes are burning with a carnal desire to claim you as his property—to destroy you like his property. as is his right. that’s the only way to satiate that overwhelming feeling inside of sukuna.
whenever you’re around him, he finds himself drawn by your presence. he wants you to stay by his side all day, and if you aren’t, it’s like gravity is pulling him towards you. sukuna despises it—he craves to possess you, yet also get rid of your entire being. that way he can return to his normal self. the monster he's known as.
“i’ll throw ya away—gonna get a new toy to spend more time with,” the king of curses digs his nails into the back of your knees. the tip of his upper cock glides back and forth over your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves until it’s burning. you’re losing yourself in both pleasure and pain.
the hurtful words don’t seem to affect you. you still look up at him like he’s your everything—like he’s the reason you exist. sukuna turns furious the moment he notices that his threats don’t seem to work. you’re impossible and he hates that which he cannot control.
he cuts off any air that may enter your lungs. your eyes widen and your fingers tug at his wrist so he’d let loose, but alas. you’re going to lose consciousness without a doubt. tears stream down your cheeks, though not because of the hopelessness you’re feeling.
“i do not need you anymore,” sukuna says gruffly, trying to convince himself of that statement as well. he never needed anyone else during his entire lifetime, so why would he need you? he can replace you with any another woman.
your body goes limp. sukuna’s voice is muffled as you enter a state of half consciousness. you’re at the bridge between life and death. your eyes catch a glimpse of the faint struggle in his eyes.
he looks like a monster through and through, visibly acting like one too. though you’re able to catch a glimpse of an underlying vulnerability. that part of him that always shows itself when you two are alone—making you feel special because you’re the only one allowed to witness it.
you crack a faint, weak smile. even if you perish right then and there, it’s going to be at the hands of the man you’ve learnt to love. the sorcerer who’s made you feel on top of the world, without him realising it. you’ll forever be thankful for the moments you’ve spent together.
you’ll never forget the times where sukuna has made you feel safe in those same arms that will now be your death.
a tear slides down your temple. you look sukuna in the eyes while you’re seconds away from meeting your end. you show no signs of struggle as he gives you your final command;
“die.”
you close your eyes. your fingers loosen their grip around sukuna’s wrist before you let your hand fall at your side. you’ve accepted your fate with a weary smile, honored to have sukuna be the last thing you see, “understood, my lord.”
you’ve lost feeling in all limbs and your eyelids droop. all you can do is await for death to come collect your soul. it’s dark and you can’t hear a thing anymore. you’re confused when the burning sensation in your lungs returns.
your eyes fly open the moment some oxygen is able to reach your airway again. the harsh fingers around your neck have disappeared, though not without leaving aching marks. you clutch your chest as it hurts to breathe after not being able to for the longest time.
you gasp and cough uncontrollably. you wince and blink the tears away from your eyes, refocusing your vision on the large stature detaching from your side. you’re bewildered to say the least—not realising the reason behind sukuna’s sudden change of heart. he’s sworn to get rid of you, didn’t he?
he told you to die and yet he let you live.
“fuck,” the king of curses groans after he snapped out of the dangerous state he was in. he’s panting snd staring at the hand that was once wrapped around your throat. he’s not looking at you at all.
you feel him pull out which makes you hiss. you sit up, the adrenaline helping your tired body move itself. sukuna is silent, with no emotions apparent on his face. however one thing you can conclude for sure is that he’s caught off guard by his own actions.
he can’t get it out of his head. the vision of you laying beneath him, accepting your doom as told. even on the brink of death, you oblige. you accept his every word. why? sukuna’s head is filled with unanswered questions.
you’re an enigma that he cannot solve.
“out of the way, girl,” sukuna easily shoves you to the side with one hand. he’s still not looking you in the eyes. he refuses to look in the eyes of the one woman whom he tried to kill. the sole woman who seems to accept him for who he is.
you’re the only one who’s able to understand him and yet he tried to get rid of you. perhaps he’s afraid of being understood and accepted. sukuna is fine on his own—there’s no need for anyone by his side.
you manage to get your breathing under control after a couple seconds. you’re still hyperventilating, but it’s getting better. your body shakes as you cover yourself with the sheets, your hair messily covering your vision. you reach a hand out to sukuna, curious about what’s gotten into him, “i’m, ngh- are you okay, m—”
“i said, get out,” the man raises his voice before harshly grabbing your wrist. sukuna pushes you towards the exit of his chambers. you stumble forward and manage to catch yourself by grabbing onto the nearest wall. everything is happening so fast.
you simply nod and grab your robes from the floor. you hurriedly cover yourself before stepping out of the room. you fall to your knees not two steps away into the hallway. your hand flies up to your neck, touching it as if making sure that you’re still alive.
you can’t believe sukuna spared you. if he changed his mind one second later than he originally had, you’d be a lost cause.
tears well up in your eyes as the gravity of the situation settles in. you may have accepted your fate in the heat of the moment, but now that it’s over, you’re left trembling on your own. you can’t shake off that intense look in sukuna’s eyes as he pounded you into the mattress.
he was hungry for your soul. to consume you and not leave any of your bones—to get rid of you so you’re out of his sight and mind.
you sniffle and can’t bring yourself to stand up. you’ve lost strength in your legs because the adrenaline levels in your body have dropped. you slowly crawl over the floor and hope that no one catches you in a pitiful state like this.
you manage to get a couple metres away, though soon find yourself staring at a pair of socks that come into view. you lift your head and the owner of the tabi eventually appears in sight.
“uraume,” your voice is hoarse. you make eye contact with sukuna’s personal chef as they stand before you, their expression unreadable.
the sigh they let out tells you that they’ve expected such an outcome since long ago. without a word, they reach a hand out and help you up.
. . .
it’s been a week since then. uraume has helped you recover from that unfortunate experience. the other concubines didn’t dare talk to you. they’ve noticed the change in sukuna’s behavior after that night he spent with you.
he’s gone on more rampages than he usually does. he’s been killing innocent servants who walked past him while on duty, and visiting nearby villages only to commit mass destruction. his emotions are uncontrollable at this point and no one has a clue on what to do.
the best option is to stay out of sukuna’s sight. and not to mess with you, just in case.
you’ve personally tried to approach him a couple times, but either chicken out or get totally ignored. you really want to talk it out, though it may seem impossible. you’ve evaded death once, you’re not sure if you can do that twice.
you’re currently sitting on a bench in the courtyard as uraume is applying an ointment to your throat. your neck still hurts with every move you make. the strength of sukuna’s hand is not to be underestimated, you know that.
you flinch as they rub the cold liquid over your achy skin. it helps numbing the pain, which is god sent for when you want to sleep. you can easily rest without having to suffer the unbearable discomfort in your neck muscles.
it’s a bit quiet in the garden. it isn’t unusual for uraume to be silent, but you’re aching to talk about what’s bothering you. of course, the oh-so-important subject includes no one other than the king of curses.
you sigh and start rambling about your failed attempts to reconcile your relationship with sukuna. you’re getting frustrated and sad at the situation. you want nothing more than to go back to how things were—with you receiving special treatment.
you miss his voice, his touches, his hair, his skin, his muscles, his eyes, his hugs. . . it’s all too much to bear with. you want the sukuna you know back. you don’t care if he tried to get rid of you. you’ve long understood that it was his primal, unspoken urges that had taken over his brain.
“i don’t know.. he doesn’t want to talk to me nor see me,” you shrug and pout. uraume nods and tilts your chin back gently to get the ointment in every little cranny. you stare up at the bright blue sky, the gentle breeze being comforting, both mentally and physically.
your ears pick up on footsteps behind you. heavy footsteps which you recognise as sukuna’s. you whip your head to the side, perhaps a bit too fast, causing the pain in your neck muscles to return. you hear uraume sigh as they see their hard work go to waste in under a split second.
your eyes are focused on sukuna’s large stature filling out the layout of the garden. uraume politely bows at their master after taking a few steps away from you. they don’t lift their head as sukuna walks past you both.
he doesn’t spare you a glance. it’s like you’re not there at all. you frown and pout, though know better than to make a fool out of yourself and speak up. you watch the man walk into the main building of the estate, his sharp eyes focused on the path ahead, his hands resting inside the sleeves of his black kimono.
once sukuna disappears from your vision, you sigh and slump back against the bench. you look at uraume as they move close to you again, taking a glance at your neck. you huff and cock your head to the entrance of the building, “see! that’s what i mean!”
you’re clearly fed up. you just want to make up. you don’t care about the fact that he nearly killed you in that moment. you simply desire to feel that connection between the two of you again. a complicated relationship with its many ups and downs. it may be toxic, but you crave it.
uraume hums at your worries. they radiate a sense of peace that inevitably calms you down as well. they take a quick glance at the direction where sukuna was last seen. they’ve been serving him ever since decennia back—way before you became his concubine.
they’ve never seen him this conflicted, but they don’t tell you that. uraume looks back at you with a simple nod, trusting that you’ll be fine. if your life has been spared when sukuna was in such an indescribable irrational state of mind, then there’s nothing to worry about.
you’re the only one who’s ever escaped death by his hands. that is an incredible feat by itself.
uraume rubs the oil over your neck again, getting the last spots as they reassure you with one simple sentence; “i’m sure lord sukuna simply requires some time alone.”
. . .
you take uraume’s comment seriously. if sukuna needed time, you’ll give him as much space as possible. and thus it’s been another week ever since then.
it’s a sunday night and you can’t sleep. you get up from your futon and wrap a simple blanket around your body. you can’t be bothered to brush your hair or look proper. no one will be up during this ungodly hour anyway.
you sneak out of your chambers and walk down the long hallways. you slide the door to the courtyard open and step out onto the pavement after putting on your geta. it’s a chilly night with a full moon, perfect weather to take a breather.
you walk around the familiar scenery and crouch down near a patch of flowers. they’re your favorites. sukuna had personally ordered his servants to plant them in the garden after he found out you like them. the memory brings a fond smile to your face.
such small yet meaningful actions never fail to melt your heart. it’s another reason why you want to make up with sukuna. you want to help with whatever he’s struggling with, however you know that man will never accept the aid.
you wish to support him at the very least. you want to show your devotion to him, if that already wasn’t clear to him.
you sigh and stand up. you’re caught up in your own thoughts to realise that someone’s been watching you the entire time. you walk straight forward until you reach the koi pond. you stare at the fish as they float in the clear water.
you wish you could be as carefree as them. you turn around to walk back to your room after it’s getting a bit too cold. you did not expect to bump your head against a hard surface. “ow,” you rub your forehead and look up.
there he stands; the man you’ve been dying to see and speak to. sukuna stares down at you without uttering a word, his sharp eyes finally looking into yours.
“ry— my lord,” you stammer, switching to a more polite stance. you’re thrilled, but the excitement quickly dies down as you remember uraume’s words; he needs time. you don’t want to disturb him, as much as you want to jump into his arms. you bow your head at him, “have a good night.”
your heart hurts as you force yourself away from sukuna. you step away from him and look at the ground as you walk. simply seeing him from up close again has been enough for now. though, your body yearns for more.
a simple touch will suffice. . .
you’re surprised when you feel a tug at the blanket around your shoulders. you stumble back and nearly fall on your bum if it wasn’t for sukuna holding you up. you feel an arm sneak around your waist from behind, surprisingly gentle. much gentle than ever before.
sukuna lowers his head to whisper in your ear. he lets his wet tongue slide over the shell, nibbling at the skin as if reminding himself of your taste, “stay.”
it’s an order, that you can tell. you’re weak for him and thus you obey without a single sign of protest. you feel a sudden sharp sting on the side of your neck which makes you remember what caused it. sukuna seems to notice the same thing.
it’s been getting better, but you still randomly get tingles near your neck area when you move it around too much. you silently push through the pain, which only lasts about a few seconds.
sukuna doesn’t comment on it, but takes a mental note of the sight. he’s recalling that time when you’ve nearly died at his hands. his eyes darken at the memory. he’s been trying to process the fact that he’s lost control over himself. those dark urges had taken over his mind and body, nearly consuming him whole.
they’re still hidden inside him—the desires to possess you, crush you, consume and devour your heart, body and soul. they intensify when you’re with him. it doesn’t happen with anyone else.
sukuna still cannot comprehend why you. what does that feeling in his stomach mean whenever he’s with you? it’s irritating, because it confuses him. confusing things which he doesn’t hold the answer over, annoy the king of curses.
an urge to claim someone as his forever, going as far as to want to consume them, is a new feeling to sukuna. it’s an unhealthy obsession that’s started because of you.
is that what humans call love?
he’s thought about it. perhaps, that is the case. but it must be a different type of love—one that’s so overwhelming that it’s dangerous. for both parties involved.
sukuna sighs. thinking about emotions and feelings isn’t his forte—it never really was. it’s stupid and foolish. and yet sukuna feels like a true king whenever you’re with him. your devotion to him sends shivers down his spine in a good way.
it showed two weeks ago. he saw how you accepted your position; your death. it turns him on to see you so submissive and obedient. maybe that’s also a reason why he nearly lost his mind that day.
lust is a scary thing.
sukuna’s lips avoid your neck. he rests his forehead on top of your shoulder, simply standing still against you from behind. the chilly breeze is long forgotten as his large stature protects you from the cold air. you don’t even need your blanket anymore.
you smile in content as you finally get what you want. you don’t even need an apology. hell—you don’t even need any words. this moment is more than enough to rebuild your relationship with the man behind you.
“y’re not going anywhere, yeah?” sukuna says in a low and possessive tone. it’s another command you follow without hesitation. he’s never going to tell you directly, but the lack of your presence has definitely been felt. now that he has you, his favorite concubine, he’s not going to lose you again. he won’t allow it.
you nod at sukuna’s words with a chuckle. you’re happy to be back in his warm embrace. you know that sukuna isn’t one to talk about his own inner turmoil, so you don’t push it.
those dark urges of his are to be discussed another day, if sukuna allows it. for now, this fleeting moment is more than enough. you reply to his order as you always do, to any command that leaves his lips;
“understood, my lord.”
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writingangst · 8 months ago
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Russian Roulette
Summary: Simon Riley takes notice that the reader has a specific way of reloading her gun, which results in him being paranoid to the point he misreads the situation.
Simon Ghost Riley x Reader
Warnings: violence, angst, cursing, torture, hurt/no comfort.
Words: 2.3K
Part two
This was a prompt from Character.AI by user @/kstzii and I had to make this account to post because it really hit the angst spot for me. Hopefully, it does the same for you.
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The echo from your sniper rifle was stifled by its silencer as you scored another bullseye. You felt someone's gaze burn into the back of your head. But once you turned, you couldn't see anyone. Must've been my imagination. You reassured yourself as you went back to attempt another shot. No bullets. You quickly reload and reposition yourself to fire off another round.
“What the hell was that?” Your lieutenant's voice called out. You swiftly turned to him. “Reload again.”
“What?” You were caught off guard, the slight hint of a Russian accent slipping out. Shit. You instantly clear your throat to switch back to your usual British accent.
“Are you deaf? I said reload again!” He repeats, his voice booming.
You rearange yourself from your position lying on your stomach, onto your knees, the head of your riffle touching the dirt beneath you. You look at him through slightly narrowed eyes. “Now, why would I reload when I just switched to a perfectly good mag?”
His jaw clenched. You noticied how he was trying to hold himself back. He did this often. You were sharp with your tongue and tended to use it on him often. In more ways than one. Though this time, he didn’t quite seem like he was enjoying it.
“You know exactly what I mean. That was a Russian reload,” he crossed his arms over his chest, the veins in his arms were prominent. It brought you back… No. This was serious.
You laughed it off, seeming unbothered. You were cool. Calm. Collected. Everyone knew you weren’t one to be thrown off your game easily. But this certainley was doing just that. You weren’t about to let him see that though.
With a scoff, you turn your back to him to get a better hold of your gun. “I reckon you haven’t slept, Lieutenant. Could be playing tricks on your sight.”
“I know exactly what I saw,” his tone was cold, but with his clenched fists you knew this was a ticking time bomb. “Do. It. Again.” He ordered in a firm tone. It left no room for any arguments.
You’re stagnant only slightly. There was uneasiness in your stomach at what this could mean. You knew Simon, and you knew Ghost. This was the latter, but you weren’t going to let this play out the way he wanted it to.
“And if not?” You challenge as you turned towards him, eyes sincere as you looked deep into his conflicted ones. “This gonna end in friendly fire?”
In long strides he stepped forward, coming to a halt right in front of you. He pulled you up by your elbow, but you never lost your grip on your weapon. With him being 6’4, you had to crane your neck to look him in the eye. His towering frame was imposing, making you feel small.
He leaned closer, just like he had so many times before. His body only a few inches from yours, but instead of it having the burning effect it usually did, now you were just feeling uncomfortable with the interaction. He was doing this on purpose. He was trying to intimidate you.
“What do you have to lose?” He countered, his voice low, a rumble to his chest.
You took it as a challenge.
With a clenched jaw, you took a step back from him as he severed his grip on your skin. You rid of the magazine wedged within your sniper and your eyes never leave his as you do so. Taking another mag from your tactical gear, you shift to do a simple tactical reload.
He watched you intently, his eyes glued to your every move. You didn’t break a single swet. And even though it seemed like something inherently intimate, you knew it was everything but. Once you finished and kept your straight face on him, he stepped towards you again.
He looked pissed as his eyes flickered to the mag that you just placed into your gun.
“That…” he stated through gritted teeth, gripping your chin with force between his thumb and his forefinger. You were forced to look at him head on. “…isn’t a British reload. Now tell me, who are you really?”
“I’m a simple sniper, sir,” you reply without skipping so much as a beat. “I was chosen for this task because of my outstanding sniper skills.”
Silence ensued.
Then you continued. “But you knew that already. You read my file,” you hissed back at him. “And you’ve trained with me for months, been in my bed, so what exactly are we implying here, Lieutenant?”
He kept his grip on your chin, his fingers digging into your skin. You noticed how he continued to get frustrated that nothing was out in the open like he previously thought it was. He expected you to be defiant, not secretive. A piece was missing and he was paranoid. Something wasn’t right.
Suddently, you’re smashed against the closest tree and your rifle was hitting the ground. You wince as a gruff pained noise falls from your lips once the air is knocked out of you. His vast hand squeezed your neck. Not enough to cut your air supply. Yet. But enough for it to be uncomfortable to breath. There was a sense of betrayal in his eyes and you knew he had assumed the worst.
“You’re a lying Russian spy,” he murmured into your ear with such force you thought you’d faint.
You struggled against him. “I am not Russian, nor am I a spy,” you rasp out as best you can, but you feel him crushing your windpipe. You wouldn’t lie to yourself. You feel hurt. He was one of the closest people you had since joining the 141 task force. Which made you angry. That’s when hurt vacated to make room for the feeling of deception. “But I will not explain myself to you when I have a job to do.”
You attempted to push him off but he was stronger and bulkier than you, making it almost impossible. You understood there that there would be no reasoning with him. Sleep deprivation and high stress levels were obvious indicators of this. You both had been on the field for days, and he had been the one doing most of the lookouts in order for you to get a bit of shuteye. You won’t be a good shot with heavy lids, sweetheart. He once said to you.
“What were you sent to do, huh?” He asked, his voice had lost its edge and now he just sounded distant. “Spy? Assassinate me?”
“Paranoid motherfucker,” you hissed, holding onto his forearm to steady yourself against his grip. “Screw you.”
His eyes narrowed, his grip loosening only slightly. “You sound surprised. You can’t honestly tell me that you expected me to not investigate the mysterious sniper with a Russian reload and accent?”
“And I’m almost certain you couldn’t find a Goddamn thing about anything and that’s why you got me cornered,” you stated as a matter of fact. “I’m not whoever the hell you think I am, and this paranoia is serving to have this mission go south if you don’t let me get to my gun.”
He laughed this time. Honestly, laughed.
You scrunched up your nose. Fuck you, Ghost.
“You don’t think I have dirt on you, sweetheart? I have files on you, more than you can count. I know you, better than you think,” he paused for a second. “I know your weaknesses, likes, dislikes. Everything.”
You laugh bitterly. “I don’t doubt that. Hey, I even had a hand in the shit you know because I trusted you. That still doesn’t mean you know jack shit about what happened in Russia. You’re so inclined? Ask Price!”
“I asked Price!” His hand gave your neck a quick squeeze and you saw how his body trembled. “He didn’t know a damn thing. Said your file was locked and he was denied access. Now why the hell would that be, huh?”
You snorted. “He said that to protect me. I had the whole record wiped. None of this concerns you, Lieutenant. We all went through shit, and you think you’re the only one that’s allowed to be a ghost? Fuck you!”
His eyes narrowed at your words. “Why would he protect you if you have nothing to hide? That makes no sense and you know it.”
“Because my trauma is my trauma! And you have no business budding into it!” 
“And if it’s something that could jeopardize the entire task force?” He muttered, his patience wearing thin. “If it could get everyone killed?”
“You’re an idiot if you think Price would let me anywhere near this damn task force if he considered me a risk,” your voice was cool, but your heart was thumping in your chest. You attempting one last shove that surprisingly caused him to let go. You wheezed when the pressure was off your trachea and you coughed to catch your breath. 
He watched you silently.
Once you composed yourself, you looked back at him as you held your neck. “I thought we were fucking friends, Ghost.”
“Friends?!” He spat exasperatedly. “You really think I would consider you my friend when I know you’re lying? You think I make friends with people I don’t trust?” His eyes were cold, his tone cruel and bitter. “Tell me why I shouldn’t put a bullet between your eyes for the simple deceit.”
Aside from the pain emitting from your neck, there was a hollow ache in your chest that was capturing your attention as well. You would relive the trauma if that would mean getting the job done. But when it came to Simon Riley, he was as good as dead to you.
“I was held hostage by Russian forces for 18 months.”
His stance faltered at that. You don’t think you had ever seen him lose his footing like he had in that instance. And his eyes… Christ, he had never changed his expression so fast. What the hell was that? Pity? He could go screw himself.
You continued. “Anything you can think of in torture, triple that. What kept me alive for so long was the fact they wanted to use me. The only way I got out of the constant abuse was the training. So excuse me if I picked up on a thing or two. Even the Godawful accent that creeps into the British one,” you cleared your throat. “I’m not your enemy, Ghost. But you’re right. I’m not your damn friend either.”
As you explained your past, his eyes never left yours as he listened carefully. He expected many things, but he hadn’t taken into consideration you being a literal prisoner to Russian forces. For once in his life, he was speechless. The thought that you had lived through a year and a half of torture at the hands of the Russians was something he could barely imagine.
His gaze had softened, but he hardened again when something wasn’t clicking for him. “Doesn’t explain why your file is locked.”
You snorted humorlessly. “Ever heard of Price’s little sister?”
His eyes widened at the mention of her. The captain was hush hush about the matter, but it was a well known fact he had family within the military. And that she was KIA some time ago. “What about her?”
“You’re looking at her.”
Those were the last words he expected to come out of your mouth. Shock and surprise flashed behind his mask as he finally realized what this meant.
“You’re…” He paused, trying to process the bomb that just exploded in his face. “You’re Price’s sister?”
“In the flesh,” you replied with the same cold tone he had been using earlier with you. “You’re not the only one trying to be ghost. You’ve just never been questioned by the task force on it like you just did to me.” 
What could he say to that?
“I took a bullet for you, Lieutenant,” you reminded him. “What fucking spy does that for the opposite team?”
His jaw clenched and you saw how his mask flexed due to it. His eyes showed how he replayed that memory in his head. It was something he thought about constantly. You had saved him, and he hadn’t seen it coming. He had been so focused on you being a spy that he hadn’t stopped to consider that you were actually on his side.
“I never should have questioned you,” he admitted, his voice quiet as he met your gaze again.
Your hand shot up to stop him from saying anything else on the matter. “It’s done. We’re done here.”
He watched as you walked away to pick up your gun, his mind racing with thoughts but they were too fast for his tongue. He knew he had messed up. He had completely misjudged the situation with the accusations thrown at you when in reality your connection to the task force was stronger than even his.
The irony in the situation wasn’t lost on him, but he didn’t find it funny.
“Wait,” He sighed, taking strides to catch up to you.
“This is unprofessional, Lieutenant,” you stated, dusting off your weapon as you checked for any malfunctions. “We’re in the middle of an active operation. I’m done talking.”
He exhaled a frustrated sigh as you dismissed his attempt at talking to you. He knew you were right, that the mission was what mattered now. But he couldn’t help the feeling that he needed to apologize. It was clawing at his chest, the emotion raw in his throat, asking to be let out in word vomit.
“You can’t honestly expect us to just ignore what happened and continue on like normal?”
Silence followed.
You didn’t even look at him.
“Go back to being Ghost, because Simon Riley is fucking dead to me.”
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icemankazansky · 8 months ago
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A Simple Guide to Not Being Afraid to Write Comments to Fic You Read
I've seen a lot of posts about the current state of fanfiction comments. Writers, especially writers who have been in fandom for a decade or more, are frustrated by the lack of comments, and have noticed a definite decline in comments (and all other forms of reader interaction) in the past ten years or so. Many readers feel daunted by the expectation of leaving comments, afraid they'll do something wrong. As a fandom old maid, the latter confused me for a while, until I realized that most of the people who feel that way probably have not been taught this form of communication.
But your loving fandom elders are here for you. Come along as your auntie tumblr user icemankazansky makes this shit easy.
The easiest way to think of fanfiction comment etiquette is to compare it to something you likely already know: Gift Receiving Etiquette.
Fanfiction began as largely a gift economy. And a lot of it still is! You'll see authors participate in exchanges like Yuletide and Id Pro Quo; those are ficswaps in which authors write for a specific person to specific prompts. And even outside that, fanfiction is not written for money; authors write and post it simply for the joy of creation and community with fellow fans. Fic is posted free for anyone to enjoy. Is that not a gift?
So. When you as a reader finish the chapter or story you're reading and you are faced with the comment box, try to follow the same etiquette you would when receiving a gift. (And even if you didn't love this gift and it's not your favorite gift ever, we already know that it's more useful than the products from your cousin's MLM that they're passing off as gifts, because you read the story. At the very least, it entertained you for the time you took to read it.)
The big rule of gift receiving etiquette is not to insult the person who gave you the gift, either directly or indirectly. That's it. Full stop.
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I've been seeing a lot of comments lately that are just along the lines of, "Thank you for writing this story and sharing it with us." A+, top of the class, full marks, you're doing amazing. If you don't feel comfortable commenting on the story itself, that is perfect feedback. And that's the most basic way you respond to a gift, yes? Thank you for the gift. Thank you for thinking of me. Thank you for sharing.
Does this rule mean that you cannot say anything at all that might be negative about anything? No, absolutely not. What you want to avoid is saying something that is, at its core, a negative evaluation of the author or their work. Let's do some examples.
Character A's obliviousness about Character B's MASSIVE crush on them made me so frustrated! I was tearing my hair out internally screaming, "JUST LET HIM LOVE YOU."
✔️ Excellent comment! You're allowed to have all sorts of feelings about things that happen in the story, and in fact authors LOVE to hear about any emotions they made you feel. Yes, frustration is not a positive emotion, but the thing you are expressing frustration about is not the author themselves or their shortcomings.
Contrast that to:
I was really frustrated that it took you so long to post this chapter. The cliffhanger at the end of the previous chapter had me tearing my hair out, and then you just left us hanging FOREVER!
❌ Nope! Here what you are expressing is frustration with the author and how fast they come out with new chapters. Imagine your sister buys you a gift for your birthday, but she isn't able to give it to you until the next week, and you respond with: "What took you so long?" I think Emily Post would frown on that.
Reframing
The way you say something and the point of view from which you give feedback can have a HUGE impact on the message you're sending. Let's take the last comment (the one about wanting an update) and see what happens when we reframe the same sentiment as a positive:
I was SO EXCITED to see that you updated this story! I have really been looking forward to seeing what happened after the cliffhanger in the last chapter.
✔️ Now it's not an insult. The author will be happy to know that you are happy to see new work from them.
This idea extends beyond the story itself: to the fandom, the characters, the pairing, the tropes, etc. Let's do some examples.
I looooove reading about these sexy boys SO IN LOVE even though the movie you're writing about is SOOOOO problematic.
❌ Nope! Assume that the author enjoys the canon, characters, pairing, etc. in the stories they write. This comment is insulting to the author because it basically says, "That thing you love is not great, and you should probably feel bad for liking it." Imagine your aunt gifts you a sweater from a popular retailer, and you respond with, "This is so cute, I love it! It's a shame that it was made in a sweatshop." Do you have a valid point about the canon or the retailer's business practices? You very well might. Is this the proper time and place to talk about it? Absolutely not.
Let's do a reframing exercise. You should be very careful about how you approach commenting negatively on anything in the story that appears in the tags list, but you can make it a compliment and good feedback if you have the right perspective. See the difference with these two approaches:
I kind of think frottage is disgusting, but I liked it in this story.
❌ Nope! You just told the author you think their kink is disgusting. That's like telling your poor aunt who is just trying to keep you warm this winter that she has awful taste in knitwear. Try again.
Frottage normally isn't my kink, but I love your other stories with this pairing, so I decided to give it a try, and I'm SOOOOO GLAD that I did! This story was 🔥🔥🔥
✔️ "This normally isn't my thing, but you made me expand my horizons!" Authors love to hear that. That's like telling your aunt, "I never thought this color looked good on me, but I look so cute in this sweater! I'm so glad you helped me step outside my comfort zone, because I'm the better for it."
thank u, next
The last thing I want to address is this new trend I've seen in commenting lately: placing an order. If your mom surprises you with new headphones, you don't respond with, "I wanted the white ones 🙁," or, "You should get me a new phone, too." It's easy to see why that isn't appropriate in a gifting situation, and it's also not appropriate when commenting on fanfiction.
Let's do some examples:
This fic was soooo cute, but it would have been a million times better if Character A had been with Character C instead of Character B.
❌ There are a few things going on here. Number one, you're telling your mom you wanted the white headphones, not the ones she actually bought you. You're also disparaging the A/B pairing that the author chose to write about, and as we discussed, we can assume that the author wrote the pairing because they liked it. Even if it's not their favorite and/or they also write A/C, they made a choice for this story to be A/B, and the comments section of a fic is not the place to question choices the author made in their own work.
You should write a story where Character Z who is not even in this story does [thing that is vaguely referenced in the B plot].
❌ "You should get me a new phone, too."
I want a sequel. 😞
❌ "Thank you, next!"
You can reframe this kind of sentiment if you are careful about it, and it's not all you say.
I really loved this story. I would be so interested to see these ideas explored further if you ever decide to write more in this universe.
✔️ Not "gimme." Not "more." This is, "If you build it, I will come." It is a HUGE difference.
You already know how to do this. You know how to graciously accept a gift; just use that same etiquette, and boom! Now you know how to fearlessly write a comment to fic you read. You're doing amazing. Go forth and comment.
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defmaybe · 2 months ago
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That's So True
12 Days of Christmas: Day 10, January 3rd, 2025
aespa’s Uchinaga Aeri/Giselle & Yoo Jimin/Karina x Male Reader
5.3k words
Christmas Masterlist
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The chatterings of the party goers fill the house, with a faint hint of Gracie Abrams’ That’s So True hanging in the air. The place reeks of cheap perfume (you added the cheap part by yourself, you really don’t know which is expensive and which is not), beer, and rum.
You’re somewhere in the house, playing a game with your friends, and your friends of friends. The bottle spins, as the players are watching it expectantly, anticipating the next candidate for truth or dare. It slows down, and the sounds of people’s breath hitching can be heard as the tip of the bottle goes near them.
(The stake here isn’t anything more than shame, really. Still, it’s a pretty huge predicament for college students.)
Finally, it stops, claiming Yoo Jimin as its victim. You watch her whine in slight disappointment, but there’s a glint, there’s a glint in her eyes that shows something more—excitement.
“Truth,” Jimin says.
You’ve always considered yourself lucky to be within Jimin’s radius, even if it’s just being a friend of a friend. There’s the obvious—her gorgeous, angelic features. You swear you can just look at her face all day without doing anything else, and that would’ve been enough for you.
Then, there’s her personality. It’s another thing you’ve always admired. She’s a leader, a goddamn 4.00 achiever, the perfect epitome of a student. She’s a debate team president, and now she’s sitting in the same circle as you, playing truth or dare, ready to be asked the most embarrassing questions.
“So,” Beomgyu begins, tapping his knees in a rhythm. He’s the faculty’s drummer, after all. “Alright, I couldn’t think of the question. My bad, guys”
The others watch Beomgyu with a slightly annoyed expression (they still love him, of course).
“Don’t start if you don’t know how to continue, man,” Jimin scoffs, turning to others for a spark to her question. “So, anyone?”
Nothing seems to run through your mind at the moment. You’re not an idea kind of person, to say. Your mind is blank.
“What is the worst–” Taehyun utters, but he seems lost on where to go next. The words hang in the air without closure “–fuck.”
“Is that fuck an exclamation, or it’s a part of the question, huh?” Jimin playfully teases him. “I mean, I can answer that if it’s the latter~”
God, she’s so charismatic.
Taehyun chuckles. “I’ll go with the second choice, then,” he says.
Jimin lets out a mischievous smirk. “Well, this is about two years ago, more or less,” she starts her story, as everyone in the circle gathers around to listen intently.
“I was fucking a guy, riding him like crazy. He was whimpering and moaning and all that stuff, you know? I thought he was perfect, being a submissive little slut like that,” Jimin says, an expression of wrath forming on her face. Fuck, she looks so hot when she’s mad. “I’m still mad at him, goddamn it.”
You only nod along with the story like the others, listening to her carefully.
“Everything was going so damn well. God, I even remember how he moaned like a bitch, ‘Nghhh~ Jimin, your pussy feels so good. Jimin, I’m your little man-whore, nghhh~’, like that,” Jimin mocks the poor man’s words while also mimicking the riding movement. You can see her breasts moving along with her motion.
This is fucking arousing. You’re starting to feel the tent inside your pants forming. Imagine being Jimin’s little man-whore like that, watching her tits jiggling while she’s on your cock. A few more shots and you could’ve been drooling all over the floor, being a laughingstock for all of your friends like that.
“That–That’s a very vivid imagery, Jimin,” Minjeong adds. The others are nodding along with her.
Jimin shrugs. “Guess I can be a bit–shameless, you know?” she says with a giggle, making the crowd smile along with her.
“Alright, back to the story. I was riding him, and he was moaning,” Jimin continues. “Everything was going fine. Then he fucking slapped my tits.”
You can see Minjeong clenching her lips, hard. She’s trying not to burst out in a huge laughter, so is Taehyun, so is Beomgyu, so are a lot of other guys in the circle.
Jimin shoots the crowd a glare, whining in frustration, “Come on, guys! He fucking slapped my tits!” Jimin then slaps her chest softly, and that breaks the group.
The crowd erupts in laughter, unable to comprehend the sheer absurdity of the situation. Kai is already on the floor, dying from the hilarity. You can’t help but chuckle along with the guys.
“Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you!” Jimin shouts, but the laughing crowd doesn’t seem to care, still laughing. You watch as Jimin leans back, watching the scene unfold around her, annoyed.
“Hmph!”
“Alright–Alright,” Yizhuo says, still laughing. She then reaches out to her friend for the bottle. Yizhuo wiggles it in her hand slightly, before she spins the bottle again, bringing the crowd’s attention to the object. The bottle rotates. Everyone, mostly still smiling, are watching it with anticipation, ready to see who will be the next victim of the game. Gracie Abrams’ That’s So True seems to repeat itself. The DJ probably forgot to turn the repeat function off. The guitar rings around the house. The bottle continues to spin, continuously slowing down second by second.
And it stops.
At you.
Fuck.
“Since Jimin picked truth–”
“Yeah, I know,” you quickly cut Yizhuo off. “Dare me something.”
You glance around the group. The men are thinking. The women are thinking. They’re probably trying to imagine the most embarrassing thing they can do to you.
“Hmm,” Beomgyu makes a thinking sound before seemingly having an idea. “Grind on somebody’s lap for thirty seconds.”
Your eyes widen in shock, trying to comprehend Beomgyu’s words. “Grind?”
“It’s the worst I could think of without taking off your clothes,” he nonchalantly says, shrugging.
“He could’ve done it for thirty-one seconds, you know,” Soobin chimes in, and the circle erupts in laughter, as you watch the events unfold shyly.
“Ha–alright, man,” Beomgyu says, still giggling. “Who’s going to be the lucky person here?”
The laughter subsides, and the circle focuses their attention on you. You look around the crowd, all red and flustered. Fuck, what is happening?
“I–uh–”
“I don’t mind,” Jimin blurts out with a loud burp, eliciting a few giggles. “I’m already taking a lot of flak tonight, so–come grind on my lap, pretty boy.”
Your eyes widen once more, not believing the words that just came out of Jimin’s pouty lips. Is she–Is she inviting you to grind on her lap? Your mind goes haywire. Your breathing quickens. Fuck, you can’t focus.
“C’mon, you’re already a bitch either way.”
You slowly get up from the floor, all anxious. You walk towards Jimin, who’s invitingly spreading her legs wide, gesturing you towards her.
As you reach Jimin, you lower your plump ass onto her lap. Jimin’s hands creep up your waist, gripping you in your place. Your body shudders at her touch.
“Alright, someone get the stopwatch,” Taehyun says. Yizhuo would be the one to do it, setting the timer at thirty seconds.
Your ass is hovering just above Jimin’s lap, leaving a small space because you just can’t bring yourself to. Suddenly, Jimin pulls you down onto her crotch, making you yelp.
“Nghhh!”
Jimin bursts out a laugh at your submissive response. Her hold on you is firm. She’s only allowing you to move sideways. Yeah, you’re definitely not leaving her before the timer runs out.
“Ready?” Yizhuo asks.
You take a deep breath on top of Jimin before replying, “Y–Yeah.”
“Alright, go!” Yizhuo then presses the start button.
Thirty seconds left.
You move on Jimin’s crotch awkwardly. Your hands find their grips on her strong shoulders. You feel the friction between your ass and her lap heating you two up in the space between. This feels so weird, yet so weirdly comforting. You somehow feel so safe on top of her like this.
“Mmm, just like that, bitch,” says Jimin, and you can only smile shyly in response.
Twenty seconds left.
Jimin starts to thrust her hips up your ass, making you bounce softly on her, her hands still gripping onto your waist tightly. You’re trying so hard to stifle your moan from coming out and embarrassing yourself.
You feel–reduced, reduced to her little man-whore, yet you find comfort in it. Your eyes start to flutter. Your vision is filled with stars.
“C’mon, moan for me. I fucking love it when men moan,” she encourages.
Ten seconds left.
Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s Jimin’s charm from below you. Your moans leak out from your lips as your movement quickens. You’re feeling like a bitch right now.
“Nghh~”
“Fuck, yeah! You’re putting on some show, pretty boy!” Jimin cheers, and that only spurs you on. Her hands are tightening on your waist. Your motion becomes more and more frantic. You’re revelling in the way she’s talking you down into her bitch.
“Alright, time’s up, guys.”
Your hands find purchase in her hair, as you grind her crotch recklessly. Your whimpers are echoing through the room. Through your narrowed eyes, you see Jimin watching you like a predator, smiling wickedly, taking in the view of her nasty little slut grinding on her lap like this.
“Guys.”
Your pants are tightened from the sensations pooling below your ass. Your whimpers become loud moans. You grind on her crotch as quickly as possible, and it feels so great, being reduced to her little man-whore like this. You swear that you can just do this forev–
“Guys!”
You’re snapped out of your little trance. It takes a blink of an eye, and you see Jimin laughing under you. Around you, the guys just watch in shock (there’s nobody filming, luckily), some having their mouths hanging open, some having their eyes widened.
“Time’s up,” Yizhuo says, showing you the zeroes on her phone.
“Oh, s–sorry,” you reply, before regretfully leaving Jimin’s lap. She’s still laughing under you.
You chug in a cup of beer, and another, and another. You’re still trying to make sense of what just happened earlier. You just grind on top of Yoo Jimin’s lap recklessly, moaning and whimpering on top of her. 
God, you were such a bitch.
“Hey.” Suddenly, a sound comes from your back, sounds familiar. You turn back to face its owner.
It’s Aeri, right hand holding her beer cup.
“H–Hey,” you reply nervously. The image of your intimacy with Jimin is still playing in your head.
Aeri shoots a look of concern towards you. “Are you okay? You seem a bit–red,” she asks.
“I–I’m okay, just a little drunk,” you answer, trying to brush her off the fact that you were just dry humped Yoo Jimin minutes ago.
“By the way, the guys were just talking about you,” Aeri says with a giggle. Her thumb is pointing towards your friends’ group that are trying to impress the women. “You grind on Yoo Jimin’s lap?”
Fuck.
You can only stand still in your place, unable to move a limb.
Aeri laughs at your petrified reaction. “Oh my god, you’re such a slut!” She gives your shoulder a friendly slap.
“I–It was a dare, Aeri,” you say apprehensively. That’ll prove fruitless, of course. She’s already thinking you’re a slut. She’s still laughing at you for doing so.
You wouldn’t call Aeri your closest friend, even if the distance between you and her is smaller than that of you and Jimin. You two greet each other in class. You two greet each other outside of class, but that’s it, nothing more, nothing less.
Aeri is more of a carefree type than Jimin. Getting a B is already an achievement for her. She drinks twice a week, stays over at somebody else’s place once a week. Her friends would call her a slut, and she’d happily accept it.
“Are you going to grind on someone’s lap again tonight?” she asks, giggling. “Or maybe eating some ladyfingers~”
“My god, Aeri.” You slap her shoulder softly.
“Alright, see you around!” Aeri says. You wave at her, and she waves back, before she disappears into the crowd again.
Why are you even here?
You’re sitting alone on the bed in the house’s bedroom. There’s a Little Fish poster on the wall. The owner sure has some taste. A few vinyls are stacking on top of one another near its player.
You’re trying to comprehend what just happened earlier. You were grinding on a popular girl’s lap, then another one came in to mock you. Oh god, it’s over.
A knock on the door pulls you out of the destructive cycle you’re in, at least.
“Yes?” you utter, and the door opens.
It’s Jimin. She’s peeking through the space between the door and the wall, as if to make sure that no one else is in the room but you (well, there’s no one else here). She then quickly enters the room, closes the door, and starts walking towards you.
“Uh–okay?” you say, puzzled by how she’s acting.
“Heyy,” Jimin greets you again. She seems a bit more–drunk?
“Hi, Jimin.” You figure that you should apologize to her. You just embarrassed her and yourself like that, and her nonchalant reaction may have been a mere defense mechanism!
“Look, I’m sorry about that dare. I should’ve controlled myself better. I’m sorr–”
Your train of thoughts is derailed by her fingers invading your mouth, making your entire body shudder in surprise. Your eyes open wide at her action. Fuck, what is she doing?
“Strip, now,” Jimin orders, drunkenly, fingers playing with the insides of your wet cavern, before she pulls them out, leaving you empty.
“Wh–What?”
“I said ‘strip’, bitch boy. What the fuck is so hard about that?” Her eyes are barely open.
“B–But–”
She plunges her wet fingers into your mouth again, stifling your slutty moans and whimpers. Her hand reeks of alcohol and something that screams her.
“Slut,” Jimin drunkenly utters, before using her free hand to unbutton your shirt, slowly revealing your abdomen inch by inch. “Just–ugh–be a good boy and listen to me, alright?”
You are starting to get lost in the haze of desire, and you can say nothing but nod at her filthy words. Your hands go to your belt, hastily unlocking it from your slutty waist. Your pants come off a little too easily, now pooling on the ground. Your cock only has your boxers left to cover it.
“A slut with a big cock–” Jimin chuckles, using her free hand to stroke your cock from the outside, and you can only moan into her filthy hands “–fucking perfect.”
You’re still sucking on her fingers enthusiastically, like a common whore. Your hands can only sit still by the sides. You don’t dare to touch her body again yet after what happened out there.
“You can touch my tits, you know. You’re standing like a rock, and it’s fucking weird,” Jimin says, and that gives you the permission to her voluptuous breasts.
Your hands start softly, from merely wandering on her tits from top to bottom. You can feel the bra underneath her midriff shirt. It’s barely containing her chest. God, fuck, she’s huge.
“You fucking love my tits, don’t you?” Jimin asks, fingers still busy exploring your mouth. “Strip for me and I’ll let you suck on them.”
You then stammeringly pull your boxers down to your ankles, freeing your cock from its tight confinement. It springs free in excitement, and you just can’t wait to plunge it into Jimin’s puffy cunt.
Your shirt follows suit as Jimin finally unbuttons it completely. You quickly get rid of the restrictive garment, and now, you’re completely nude in front of Yoo Jimin.
“Great body,” she says with a giggle, finally taking her fingers off your slutty mouth. Jimin then takes your hands towards the hem of her top, pulling it upwards, revealing the black bra that’s barely able to contain her tits. They’re almost spilling from the confinement. Fuck.
“Yeah, I fucking know they’re big, slut. Just–wait a sec,” she sneers, as her hands reach towards the back of her bra, hastily unlocking it. And with that, the garment comes off. You’re greeted with the sight of her breasts hanging gorgeously in front of your face, with brown nipples topping them. Her nipples are already hard, so ready for you to–
“Mmm~ s–suck it, slut,” she groans, her body trembling before you, hinting the pleasure she gets from this. Her hands press you harsher into her tits, wanting you to take in the taste.
Jimin reeks of the earlier alcohol, with a hint of salt on her nipples. She has been sweating a bit. God, imagine if you get to taste her after a workout, her body slick, shining with sweat. The salty taste on her tits permeates your tongue. You get to taste her sweat like that. What an experience that would be?
You keep sucking on her tits like there’s no tomorrow. When you suck on one side, you’ll use a hand to knead on the other, feeling the divine softness in your hand. You’re hungry, and only Yoo Jimin’s breasts can satiate your burning hunger.
“Wh–What a bitch,” Jimin sneers, but that only drives you further into the seemingly unending lust of yours.
Suddenly, Jimin grabs onto your hair, yanking your head back to face her beautiful features. It hurts, but in Jimin’s hand, your cock only grows harder and harder.
“Alright, get on the fucking bed,” Jimin orders, and you quickly complies with it.
Jimin follows you onto the soft bed, climbing onto it while her eyes are roaming your pliant body. She’s almost drooling at the sight, seeing you all being submissive for her like this.
She quickly discards her shorts and her already-drenched panties, and you can only watch her show in awe. Her pussy looks nothing short of puffy, so mouthwatering.
She then climbs on top of your pliant body, ready to fuck you senseless on your cock. She lines herself up with your length, before slowly lowering herself down.
At the first contact, both of you groan with the intense pleasure coursing through your bodies. Her pussy feels utterly diving, so fucking tight. Your breaths come out in a stuttered rhythm. Your entire body trembles in pure bliss.
“F–Fuckkk~” you mewl. Your mind can barely register anything but the tightness of her pussy enveloping your thick cock.
“Y–You goddamn s–slut, why is your–ugh–cock so b–big?” she moans, her body shaking in the pleasure you’re giving her.
“I–It’s g–genetics,” you answer her coyly.
Jimin bursts out a laugh on top of your cock, clearly amused by your reply. “God, you’re such a bitch, aren’t you?”
You can only shyly giggle. She’s almost at the hilt now, but the pleasure is already too intense for you.
“G–God, you’re so damn tight, J–Jimin,” you utter, unable to make sense of her otherworldly grip on your cock. God, she’s so tight.
“Th–Thanks,” she replies, her voice still stern. Her hands are drawing lines on your chest with her neatly-manicured nails. The sensation is just too much—on your abdomen, on your cock, on your mind.
Finally, she’s at the hilt. She screams in pure ecstasy. You’re splitting her open with your cock. Both of your eyes are fluttering in bliss. This feels so good.
“Oh f–fuck, you’re so–so big!” Jimin shouts. You watch as her hands are shaking on top of you, unable to handle the sheer size of you.
You say nothing, instead creeping your hands up her pillowy breasts, adding another hue of sensation to her. You start to play with her nipples, making her body spasming on top of you.
“G–Goddd~” she mewls.
Jimin then moves back up. Your cock reappears from the base once more. The feeling around your cock is ecstatic—her inner walls grazing your cock like this. It’s insane.
“Nghhh~” you moan, trying to comprehend the feeling.
“I–I’m going down now, s–slut,” she says, before ramming back down. The sound of flesh slapping into each other echoes through the room.
“Fuck!” Both of you scream in unison, involuntarily.
She moves up again, then down, then up, then she finds her rhythm on your cock. Her pussy feels unreal. She’s gripping you like a vice, so tight, so right. Without knowing, you’re plowing into her pussy with reckless abandon.
You pound her roughly with any force you have, aiming to fill her womb with your salty nectar. The sounds of moaning and flesh slapping rings through the room. The room reeks of sex. Your hands creep up onto her big breasts again. They feel so soft in your hands, and you decide to give them a firm squeeze, making Jimin’s body writhe above you.
“G–God, y–your hands, s–so good,” she says, voice barely above a goddamn whisper. Her back arches. Her eyes are fluttering. She’s falling apart.
A knock on the door pulls you out of your trance. Your motion comes to a halt in surprise.
“Heyyy, I know you guys are in there~”
Fuck, it’s Aeri.
Jimin quickly covers your mouth with her drool-stained hand, not wanting you to alert Aeri of your presence. She’s still grinding your cock recklessly, and you’re doing your best not to moan like a slut (even if you already are).
“I–It’s–ah–just Jimin here, A–Aeri,” Jimin says, trying to hide the fact that she’s using you as her fucktoy. Though the evident stutter in her voice gives way.
“C’mon, Jimin, don’t hog him just for yourself. I wanna use him too! Pleaseeee~” Aeri pleads. You can feel the desperation coming from the outside.
“Ugh, this fucking woman,” Jimin scoffs, hips moving on top of you in a hypnotic motion. Her breasts are jiggling as she moves. “Just–don’t forget to lock the door!”
You hear a happy giggle from the outside. The door opens, and here comes Aeri, still in the same clothes as the time she called you a slut earlier in the night. Though she’s already in the process of hiking up her crop top up. Her bra is slightly visible.
“Wow, Jimin, he’s already inside you? Naughty, naughty girl!” says Aeri as she closes the door. A loud click is heard.
“Tsk, says the college’s slut,” Jimin scoffs, before she goes back to riding the soul out of your pliant body.
“God forbid a woman be a little slutty, I guess,” Aeri sneers before taking off her crop top.
Aeri’s cup size, though not as large as Jimin’s, is still pretty damn impressive if you’d weigh in on this topic in the men’s circle. Her bust is also barely contained by her lacy bra, can’t see why someone wouldn’t be caught within her presence.
Your eyes are glued to the barely contained breasts of Aeri’s, despite being buried deep in Jimin’s cunt. Aeri sways her hips playfully, pulling you into another trance. It doesn’t stay for long though. Jimin calls you back into action with a flick on your taut nipple.
“Hey! Don’t–mmm!”
Jimin plunges her fingers into your mouth for the umpteenth time, it still works, of course. You’re still sucking her slender fingers like a whore (you’re a whore, her whore). Your hands roam over her body to have a grab on her large bust hanging gorgeously above your face.
“Fucking wh–whore,” Jimin sneers, unimpressed by your antics, although drowning in the pleasure of being touched by you. She seems to really want you as hers, doesn’t she?
“Ngmm~” you can only whimper out.
“Oh, come on, Jimin. Don’t be so harsh on him!” Aeri protects you, as she slowly takes off her bra, waiting to use your body in some way. “Don’t want him to cum so fast. You know how much of a slut he is, right, baby?”
You nod sheepishly with Jimin’s fingers still inside your mouth. Degradation only makes you cum faster, and you wouldn’t want to piss Jimin and Aeri off by cumming before them.
As Aeri’s bra comes off, you’re greeted with her perfect breasts. Her dusky nipples are already hard, ready to be sucked and nibbled. You’re so ready for the second pair of tits for tonight.
“Oh, c’mon, Aeri. You’re distracting him!” Jimin whines, her hands are trying to divert your attention back to her bouncing on your cock. It works, sometimes. You can see Aeri giggling in the corner of your eyes.
“Alright, alright, how about–” Aeri takes off her shorts and panties in a single swoop, putting her mouthwatering cunt on display for you “–I sit on his face.”
God, she looks so delicious naked like this.
Back to her latest words first, though. Did she just say she’s going to sit on your face?
“Seems fair,” Jimin replies, gesturing Aeri to your vacant, unused face.
“Wait, I can’t–”
“You can, slut,” Jimin commands. Her voice is stern. Her pace on your length remains reckless, trying to coax the cum out of your full balls. “Don’t think you have any say in this, bitch. Tonight’s my–no–our night.”
You only whimper in response. You’re going to get double-teamed by Jimin and Aeri, and you couldn’t be happier than this.
Aeri then climbs onto the bed, approaching you like a predator eyeing its prey. She puts her legs on both of your sides, caging your head with her meaty thighs. Her pussy is just right above you. And slowly, she lowers herself onto your face, ready to suffocate you with her cunt.
“Oh god,” you utter, so lost in the throes of pleasure Aeri is about to give you.
She lowers just one of her knees close to your head. You’ve seen a video on this before. It’ll help the woman to not get tired too quickly. Her pussy is so close to your face now, and you can do nothing but stick your tongue out, ready to eat her out.
“Oh, and,” Aeri says, halting her motion slightly, making you groan in disappointment. “Do you want to kiss me, Jimin?”
“Ah, not my thing. Sorry,” Jimin replies with a polite smile, keeping her movements erratic on your cock. God, this feels so good.
“It’s fine,” Aeri says, before completely sinking herself onto your face, making you take in her taste.
“Fuckkk~” Aeri screams. Her body is shaking in the pleasure you’re giving her. Her hands grip onto the sides of your head tightly. She doesn’t want to let you go.
It’s not hyperbolic to say that Aeri’s taste is insane. You’re completely hypnotized by her flavor on your tongue. She has the perfect amount of saltiness, and the perfect amount of musk. Aeri’s pussy is driving you haywire, even if it’s in a different way that Jimin is making you feel.
“So–perfect for–a facefuck, god!” Aeri shouts, starting to ride your face like it’s hers (it’s hers).
The sensation is unreal. Jimin is trying to pump cum out of your cock with her grinding motion as if you’re her fucktoy (you’re her fucktoy), while Aeri is riding the shit out of your face as if you’re her fucktoy (you’re her fucktoy). The scent of her pussy is filling your nostrils, and you can’t help but grab onto both women’s breasts.
“Goddd~” Aeri groans, body shaking on top of you. Jimin says nothing but letting you play with her tits, though a few whimpers are leaking out of her lips.
Aeri’s juice tastes so damn good, and you’re happily lapping her up hungrily. Her juice is running down your chin to your neck, creating a filthy trail on your pretty face. You’re revelling in her taste. You’re revelling in the way you’re pleasing her. You’re revelling in the way she fucking keens on top of you.
“S–So, you’re not all just a pretty face, huh?” Aeri asks, her taut body trembling on you. She keeps riding your face frantically. God, she really is going for it.
You answer with an even more intense movement of your tongue, making Aeri scream on top of you. She grinds on your face even faster and faster.
Inevitably, you’re going to reach the precipice. You can feel the heat pooling in your crotch. You’re going to cum inside Yoo Jimin’s pussy!
“Nghh~ g–gonna cum,” you say. It’s barely coming out with Aeri’s cunt on your mouth like this. 
You hear Aeri giggle softly above you, body trembling in pleasure. “Well, this is rather fast, isn’t it?”
“You’re late, Aeri,” Jimin says, slightly dissatisfied with Aeri’s complaints. “Maybe you can come here instead of whoring out while he’s balls deep inside of me.”
Aeri giggles again. “Fineee~ just let me know when you guys are fucking.”
“G–Girls, gonna c–cum–nghn.”
Both Jimin and Aeri quicken their pace on top of you, chasing their own orgasm. They really want to cum with you, don’t they?
“A–Alright, I’m c–close–ah,” Jimin utters. You can hear her frantic breathing from below. Her grip on your waist becomes tighter. Your left hand alternates between her breasts, giving them the treatment they deserve.
“M–Me too,” Aeri says. Her muscles tense up under your touch. Her brown nipples are harder than ever. The three of you are going to cum at the same time!
“Nghh, I–I’m so c–close, girls. C–Can I cum inside you, J–Jimin?” you ask. The feeling is irresistible now. You’re so, so close.
“F–Fucking fill my–my womb, bitch,” Jimin scoffs, her voice stern. “Breed me like–like the whore you are.”
Her words spur you on, as you thrust up into Jimin’s cunt as fast as humanly possible. Your mouth ravages Aeri’s folds recklessly.
Jimin would be the first to break. Her cunt gushes out clear liquid onto the bed. Her body spasms on top of you. You can feel her wetness pooling on your stomach. Aeri follows suit. Her squirt leaks out of her pussy onto your face as you happily drink it. Both of them scream, forming a cacophony that fills the room. 
“Yes! Yes! Fucking–Fucking love this cock.” Jimin shouts. You aren’t so sure who’s going to hear that, but you don’t care. You’re about to cum inside of her.
“G–God, I’m painting your face so good!” Aeri says.
You let go. Your cock shoots ropes and ropes of cum into Jimin’s womb. You’re breeding Yoo Jimin with your cock. Your entire body writhes under both women’s bodies. 
“I can feel it twitch inside me!” Jimin says excitedly, softly raking your body with her nails.
Your eyes flutter in ecstasy, unable to make sense of the sensations on your body. There’s the feeling of Jimin’s ass on your cock. There’s the feeling of Aeri’s thighs on your face. There’s the scent of sex and sweat filling the room. That’s So True can still be heard. It just won’t stop, will it?
Finally, you come down from your precipice. You’re panting along with the women, trying to catch your breath in this post-orgasm bliss. Fuck, that felt good.
“Slut,” Jimin sneers, getting off from your cock at the same time as Aeri unlatches herself from your face. “Bathroom, now.”
You quickly comply with her order, getting off from the bed and walking towards the bathroom. You feel so submissive, so pliant, yet it feels so right, being their little bitch boy like this.
“One more round?” Aeri jokes, giving your ass a slap, making you yelp.
“Oh, definitely,” Jimin says, determined in her voice.
“M–Maybe, I gotta take a break.”
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lobautumny · 2 years ago
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So like, the Reddit strike going on right now, yeah? I've been seeing a lot of people comment on how they appreciate the protest and then go on to say that this has the notable downside of them constantly looking up questions and not being able to easily find the answers because all of the easily-findable answers are exclusively on Reddit. I am not sure if most of the people making this observation are within the line of thought of "man, maybe this protest isn't such a good idea after all" or "man, it really sucks that we've let the internet get so consolidated," and I'm really hoping its the latter.
Like, all of this? This right here? Reddit making a shitty, anti-consumer grab for money and control over how people are allowed to access the information on their servers, and the website going dark in protest causing tons of people to not be able to access important information? This is exactly what people mean when they say that it's bad that the internet has shrunk down so much and is mostly comprised of, like, 10 websites. It's a fucking problem that one company making one bad decision and causing their website to crash and burn can jeopardize so much of humanity's cumulative information.
This two-day glimpse into the internet without Reddit is the warning shot. Imagine what will happen if Reddit actually goes down for good for one reason or another one day. Imagine what will happen if/when Discord or Fandom bites the dust, or gets rendered practically-unusable without paying an ever-increasing premium because they're owned by blood-sucking corporate leeches.
Another big thing is Twitter clamping down really hard on your ability to DM people if you don't have Twitter Blue. If this goes through, it'll put a ton of artists and sex workers who rely on Twitter DMs for their business operation into a shitty situation. Now, obviously, it's not gonna be the end of the world for them, but once again, it feels like a warning shot to me. Twitter is a sinking ship, and unless something changes and it starts to course-correct, I worry that it'll go under and all of the creators who rely on it will suddenly be in an extremely precarious situation.
These are the sorts of things that we, as the users of the internet, need to seriously think about as time goes on, and if we don't find an adequate answer sooner, we're going to pay for it later. I still hold that the best solution is to start making and using more individual, niche websites. Things like Twitter, Reddit, Discord, etc. have their place, of course, but I seriously think a lot was lost through the death of things like individual forums and the existence of many different wiki-hosting sites.
We need a concerted effort, not just on the side of larger creators, but on the users themselves, to stop exclusively using these larger websites and support the creation and growth of smaller, more niche websites, and prevent a catastrophe before it actually happens. I simply hope that people with larger platforms than my own pick up on all this and start talking about it and swaying people to act sooner rather than later. I know it's possible to correct the problem of the mysteriously tiny internet before a modern Library of Alexandria moment happens, I just don't know if that correction will actually happen in time.
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lamb-teaa · 3 months ago
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` last of his kind, or not
` C.2 - first impression failed successfully
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—⁠ ` C.1 - dragons, flowers and what?
—⁠ tags: comedy/crack. romcom. Sylus x fem!reader. AU from Sylus's myth. canon divergence. obvious OOC. whipped and boy failure Sylus anyone? /hj.
—⁠ teaa's note: wasn't gonna write a continuation of this cuz I literally wrote it out on a whim but here we are lol thanks for reading!!
—⁠ and big thanks for the support!!: @crowleysthings @stxrrielle @sylusfluffymeow @sublimeinternetlady @clearlysworld @jinnmyc @mangooes @satansdaughter123 @alahamums @xxfaithlynxx @pirana10 @kyushii
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The audacity.
Was the first thought that crossed Sylus's mind when the strong slap of Datura flowers hit his face.
His eyes narrowed dangerously, a deep growl rumbling in his throat as a snarl threatened its way out-
But he halted when the sight of your bewildered gaze morphed into a fierce defying glare followed by a venomous scowl as you bare your sharp fangs at him-
Oh.
Oh damn.
Sylus might've just gone crazy because his heart just did a flip-flop for a second there.
He opened his mouth, his brain wracking between introducing himself or getting off of you, which the latter should've been the first he should do obviously but he was caught off guard when you suddenly swiped him right across his face.
Your smaller yet still sharp claws graze against his skin as you raise your legs, kicking him square in the stomach, sending him stumbling backwards onto the ground in a shocked daze.
His own clawed hand slowly reached up to hold his left cheek, feeling the small trickle of blood seeping down his skin, the wound wasn't that deep but it still stunned Sylus that you did that, his eyes drifted to you in a mixture of disbelief and awe.
First you slapped him with flowers, then the next second you scratched his face.
Oh the audacity indeed.
And for the love of all misery in the world- can his heart calm down a bit?!
"Why you-"
Before Sylus could even utter another word out, you had already spread your large wings out, instantly launching yourself into the sky and flying far away from Sylus as fast as possible.
"Hey- wait!"
Sylus's eyes widened in a panic as the female dragon took flight into the air, every fibre of his being immediately screaming at him to pursue you. The thought of not seeing you again made his heart drop in dread. Now that he knew you were real, not a figment of his imagination, someone who appeared dragon-like such as himself-
He found himself wanting you.
Although, he didn't understand what he actually wanted in you.
A friend? A companion? Someone similar to him to stay by his side in this godforsaken world?
Sylus doesn't have an answer to that, but maybe you might help him find said answer.
Sylus's wings unfurled behind him as he propelled himself off the ground at a ridiculously inhumane speed. His eyes never leaving your flying form despite your best efforts in hiding amongst the thick clouds in hopes of losing his sight.
"Wait! Come back! I'm not going to hurt you!" Sylus shouted, trying to keep up with your speed, the sound of desperation crept in his voice but you didn't slow down even just a bit.
If anything, you grew even more adamant in getting as far away from him, not even giving him a chance to talk and it made Sylus more restless but even more so determined.
He was used to being feared and rejected by humans for centuries, coming to terms with his solitude life and the unfortunate fate that befall him since his birth.
Pain, it's all he ever knew and had buried deep within him.
But seeing you, a fellow dragon, running away from him was another kind of pain he never knew would hurt this much.
Because it's one thing to be rejected by humans, but it's another to be feared by his own kind that had thought to be extinct long ago.
As the chase through the skies continued on what felt like an eternity, the view of the dark dense forest came into his sight. Sylus watched in frustration as you dove deeper inside the forest, using the concentrated surrounding area to your advantage as you maneuvered across the trees at lightning speed.
His muscles ache from exertion, his breath ragged as he pushed himself to his limits, calling out to you once more, over and over and yet you still continued to ignore him.
And Sylus was losing the strands of patience he had left.
A part of him wanted to be, let's say, civil to you but he's not courteous like those noble humans and you weren't giving him any choice either.
So desperate times call for desperate measures.
Black red mist materializes between his fingertips, as it shoots out towards your direction. You didn't have time to dodge the incoming mist when it had wrapped itself around your waist and wrists before tugging you backwards, a strong force pulling you back until you collided against Sylus's broad chest.
The uncontrollable impact sent both of you tumbling down between the spikes of trees, limbs and wings tangled together. Sylus had his arms secured tightly around you, his large wings engulfing your form so you'd take less damage from the fall at the expense of his own, before both of you crashed into the dense foliage ground.
Both of you coming to a stop after rolling down the grassy steep as branches and leaves whipped on both your faces and hairs until both lay still on the ground, with you sprawled on top of him in stunned disbelief.
Time stood frozen for a moment, only labored breaths could be heard in the quiet dark forest as you slowly lifted your head to look at Sylus, your eyes widened in panic and fear.
Sensing your trepidation, his mist subconsciously tightened around your figure and so were his arms around your waist. His chest heaving with exhaustion as his bright red eyes locked with you that shone with intense desperation.
"Please." He whispered hoarsely, his tone held foreign softness in them that even surprised Sylus himself as he struggled to catch his breath from the long chase. "I mean you no harm."
"No harm?!" You hissed at him, your eyes burning with hostility as you struggled within the binding of his black red mist. "You attacked me!"
"When did I- oh." Sylus grimaced, his mind rewinding to the events back at the flower field. As much as he wanted to explain that it wasn't an attack but then he stopped himself, because yeah, getting lunged in the middle of a nowhere field while you were minding your own business did seem like one.
So the distrust was, frankly speaking, warranted.
"I.. never meant for that." His hold on you loosened a bit, his once brash confidence faltering under your scrutinizing glare, "I just.."
"Just what?!"
I thought I was hallucinating you so I wanted to make sure you were real.
Yeah, no. Even enduring longtime solitude Sylus knows that would be the worst thing to say to someone whose immediate impression of himself is a possible threat at first met.
Sylus hesitated as he lowered his hands, the black red mist slowly dissipating into thin air as it released you from his hold. He watched silently as you carefully leaned back from him, creating some space between you two, your puzzled and guarded expression etched on your face and Sylus could only hope you won't run off again, and hoping to prove to you and reassure you that he wasn't going to hurt you.
But he was caught off guard yet again when this time, you lunged forward towards him and pinned him on the ground, straddling his stomach as both your clawed hands gripped his throat that made his breath hitch in both surprise and, dare he say, strangely exciting.
"Speak your intentions!" You growled, your grip around his throat tightened, making it clear to him that you were dead serious. "Or I'll kill you!"
Well damn.
You had just threatened him and yet Sylus couldn't help but crack a small smirk at that. It was amusing, endearing even as Sylus let out a low chuckle.
What an interesting turnout of events.
"Your name.." Sylus breathed out in awe, his hand reaching up to brush a lock of hair behind your hair as he relished the sight of your adorably confused yet stunned expression.
"I want to know your name."
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—⁠ teaa's extra notes: aaaand that's a wrap! idk how to continue from here on out (lie i do actually just haven't flesh it out properly am sorry) so might take a while before I pick this back up again. Multifics aren't my strongest point tbh but hopefully my upcoming short scenarios will suffice! again, thank you for reading (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)♡
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