#more of me struggling to write romance

[bayetea]

I think it's really annoying that leo has completely falsified memories of jason too and this is barely acknowledged in the books

[redstarfish-art]

Nico: You're just not my type. *walks off* Percy: ... Percy: ..... Percy: ...... Annabeth: Percy, are you okay? You're still my type. Percy: *turns to Annabeth very slowly* Percy: Were guys always an option? Annabeth: O_O

[foccaccia]

does anyone have recommendations for fictional media that has like. actual lesbians in it. not like supergirl Two White Skinny Girls, One Blonde and One Brunette Kiss media, or "its implied lesbianism!!!" but just regular fucking lesbians

[noecoded]

If you could have any Asmo/reader fic what would be the things you would want from it? like an ideal fic would contain what tropes or AUS or situations or whatever

uhmm anything wellwritten that characterizes asmo similar to the way i do ! i rlly like character exploration , both more serious stuff & just sillycute...anything where asmo is a little cunning and toxic and also gets railed into oblivion.anything where hes a vampire. ill write a tag essay about the specifics

[danidoesathing]

am i the only one who feels like alex(the world ender guy) was kind of a missed oportunity in vide noir? like, he was set up by johnnie to be a badass gang leader just for him to never even appear in the end, we just got a close up to his face scar

i feel like buck's encounter with the psychic would've been way more powerful if it was alex instead. its implied that johnnie and moonbeam had a relationship ig, but its barely even hinted at, and he never even mentions her. but with johnnie and alex, johnnie actually mentions him and speaks highly of his brother, and says alex will help buck if he sees the red cloth that belonged to johnnie

the fact that all that build up led to buck not even TALKING to alex kinda irks me. imagine how much better the payoff would be if alex had received the cloth instead of moonbeam? if we had seen his reaction to johnnie's death? if he would've helped buck like johnnie said he would? if we saw what johnnie implied alex would do to the guys who black brained his brother? idk man i think we were robbed

im new to the fanbase, so im gonna be very embarassed if this is a topic that already came up here LOLL but i still wanted to get it off my chest💀sry if this ask is messy, i suck at writing down my thoughts lmao

No I gotta agree on that. Like I LOVED seeing Moonbeam and getting know her as her and having all this new information about her (her being part of the World Enders is still wild to me and I love it) and it’s a good scene and all, but I’m still confused as to why they built up Alex so much, especially since this is the first time we’re hearing about him, and he never even got the chance to speak. If it were Dale I’d be a bit more understanding as we know him already (tho not by much cause I would have loved to see more of Dale). But it’s Alex, whose not only the leader of the World Enders but also Johnnie’s (and Dale’s) brother. I would’ve have loved to, you know, actually meet the guy. Especially with how much build up he got. And I GET IT Lord Huron’s lore is meant to be weird and vague and hard to pin down but like. Didn’t need to tease me like that come on

The only reason I could think of was maybe they needed to get Buck on his own again? Like having this the beginning of a war between the World Enders and Z’Oieasu shown or having Buck work with them consistently might have thrown off the tone. It is supposed to be Buck’s story and his own descent into madness. The whole album has this isolated vibe to me, like being alone in a city of people Hard to get that when there’s other people around, especially a group as lively as the world enders. Or maybe they just wanted to include Moonbeam back into the story again lol

GOD I would have loved to see Moonbeam’s scene with Buck done with Alex. I can only imagine how that scene would’ve played out and his reaction to Johnnie’s death. Contrasting Buck’s scene with Johnnie with Alex’s own personality, the possible dynamics, the anger and grief that could arise…..ough

[imagines-for-earthbread]

Can I get something romantic between warlord longan and dread trident sea fairy? (Both are lesbians)

The ocean was deeper than they remembered. Long did the trenches at the bottom of the ocean extend, ever darker and ever deeper, ever heavier as it pressed down upon them. They felt it in their scales as they breathed and as they moved, even though the dim trill of magic still hummed in their lungs and prolonged their life. They weren't a swimmer, but they swam now, in search of anything that existed anymore, even if it wasn't gilded gold or ever touched by the rays of the sun.

They didn't know what they were looking for. Something alive? --Certainly, the ocean here teamed with its own particular breed of life. Ancient fish and creatures whose shapes held up under this oppressive pressure, who were both clear and glimmered with their own particular brand of bioluminescence whose purpose served to lure prey closer. They would have to struggle less to find food in the dark that way.

Or something ancient and forgotten? There were many shipwrecks in the ocean, pirate ships and cargo boats that found themselves a necessary end. Cookie skeletons slumbered at the bottom of the sea, sugar bones cracked and frayed and perhaps nothing by now, if the years of observing the whalefall were anything to take into account. A ship didn't harbor as necessary an ecosystem as a whale did. Cookies were too small--too insignificant--to matter much down here. And that was only if their bodies made it down this deep in the first place.

They spent years diving the depths of the world, taking in the wildlife that existed subservient to dragons. They found Sugarteara and tore it to pieces mightily, cookies and shrapnel sharp upon their tongue, coral buildings torn to pieces by tail and claw. They hadn't caught every Sugartearan cookie in the slaughter. Some of them, even, managed to flee, scattered across the ocean like motes of dust in a high wind.

Perhaps that's what Longan Dragon Cookie was searching for: The survivors.

Fish, treasure, or stragglers... It was impossible to tell anymore.

Their eyes couldn't adjust to the darkness that permeated so deep without the aid of a dim, golden magic. Their lythe, draconic form wound its way, serpentine, ever deeper, twisting into the underwater canyons and gullies below. Their claws scraped against the smooth stone walls worn away by a millena of salty current and water wear.

They could hear their nails scratching at its surface more clearly now than ever--the noise was louder under the water, and the dense pressure only served to amplify it. They could almost hear their very own bones creaking and hear the shifting of their leathery scales rubbing against each other. They could hear the ichor flowing in them from the tip of their nose to the tip of their tail.

And they heard the sound of nothing--nothing, that was, except the sound of pressure, the noise of the ocean itself breathing.

They snuffled their snout against the earth at their side, snorted, and dug their claws in deeper, determined to leave their mark. They were here. And in a million years, they would come back and leave this mark down here again, fresh and deep, because there was nothing left to do. The world was empty.

The world was quiet.

At the bottom of the trench lay a gently swirling expanse of dusky sea brine, of which the haze beneath concealed the true bottom of the ocean floor. Longan Dragon Cookie paused here, golden eyes shining light and making the cloudy mass almost seem to glow with an apparent halo. It looked like the sunlight reflecting off of the clouds, only salty, wet, and dense. This was where the heaviest matter collected at the bottom of the ocean. Testily, Longan Dragon Cookie extended their paw, reaching inside to press down to find there was no immediate ground to stand upon. The trench extended deeper than life and deeper than sight.

A noise reverberated all around them suddenly, echoing loudly off of the ever-narrow walls of the trenches and leaving a dim ripple of water flowing east in its wake. It sounded like the ocean--not something cracking and breaking all at once, falling to the bottom of the ocean floor, but moreso the humming of an ancient song, one that only Earthbread itself could possibly know. Something about it seemed familiar to Longan, though they couldn't quite place it.

Longan twisted their head in the direction of the noise, bracing themself upon the precipice that dipped into the briney sea, weighted down upon by pressure and cold. For all their sense of sight, they couldn't see particularly far ahead of themself. It probably wouldn't have done much in the first place.

The noise didn't stop. It rumbled within the earth, tingling their claws and sending shivers down the length of their body, from the tip of their nose to the tip of their tail. It shuddered in the air with every ancient note, a siren's call that sang an ancient song of love.

To investigate or to draw themself back?

Well. Longan Dragon Cookie had conquered the world with a mighty swiftness and resolve, dragging the world from a golden age of pathetic, crumbling cookies to the golden age of dragons sprang anew. If life could exist, even down here--if this was a song being sang by a cookie of any form--even if it seemed unlikely that any cookie life could exist this far down, they knew what they had to do.

Powerful legs and a serpentine body snaked its way through the water, defying the laws of gravity, twisting its way through the current. The noise only grew louder, raising in volume, not for lack of becoming louder on its own but for how distant it apparently was. It followed the sea of brine--a sea so long that at some point, they were willing to call it a giant's river instead. The darkness was cold, and it was difficult to see farther than a short distance ahead of them. They found themself hugging the wall of the trench more often than they didn't.

They didn't know how long they swam. Hours, perhaps--it felt like it might have been days. Time was impossible to measure down here, unless one wanted to waste the effort to keep count of seconds and minutes and hours themself. Longan was not one of those creatures. After all, they had all the time in the world now.

As they swam, the taste of the brine seemed to grow thicker, punctuating the water with a taste so dense one could choke on it. They thought at first they were hallucinating how the brine seemed to rise as they traveled, but eventually there came a time that even they had to admit they were wrong.

They traveled for many hours--until, finally, a most peculiar sight met their eyes: A wall of brine, filtering slowly down, in a manner not dissimilar to a waterfall. Longan Dragon Cookie sniffed at the air, magically artificial gills flaring, head lifting in defiance of gravity. Gravity itself threatened to pull them under for how much the water tried to strangle them--they had to kick their feet with great aggression to not sink deeper before they were ready.

The song by now had stopped, the water stilling with the silence of nothing save the beating of a dragon's heart and the breathing of the ocean. Longan gazed upward, estimating the likelihood that the brine was pouring from somewhere above. It was easier to go down than it was go go up, they decided--and besides, it's not like they had anywhere to go but up or back the way they came, anyway. Twisting their body to face upwards, they began to swim in the serpentine manner that their cousins swam upon the air in the far-off tundra.

They thought of their corpses, intermingled in the midst of a fierce battle that ended up leaving the earth flowing red with the flow of dragon jam. They died protecting each other--protecting the cookies that they saw fit worthy to protect--and for what? Nobody would remember them now except as the villains who stood in the way of the re-emergence of the glory of dragons. It was a fitting end for the greater good. They knew not the forces they toyed with.

After a long, long while of swimming upward, taking rest at perches they found along the way, eventually they found they could rise no more. The brine filtered in from somewhere in the cavern wall, which meant there was a hole that led elsewhere. Longan Dragon Cookie's tail lashes furiously, glowering at the brine that drifted steadily downward and tumbled upon itself in slow motion. What a waste of time, they thought with disgust. And they were about to leave when all at once the song of the sea resonated once again.

It was louder here--loudest, even. The source of the noise seemed to come from wherever the source of this brine was.

Longan's tail thrashed, body dancing contemplatively before the brine. Fine, they eventually concluded. They'd come this far. What would be the point if they retreated now? Taking a deep breath of water, Longan Dragon Cookie flattened their gills shut (a feat that wasn't easy and took a great deal of concentration in itself) and dove forward.

It was very thick--so thick, it was viscous. The tunnel they twisted through was large enough to fit their body, but it was impossible to see and seemed even more impossible to work through. More than once, Longan found themself pausing, taking a moment to register from what direction the brine came by sensing the dim pull of the current. It seemed to bring them ever-upward. They held their breath so long that their lungs burned. They held their breath for so long that they had to breathe, and they sucked in water that was more salt than it was water and half as fluid. It burned in their gills, sharp and painful, rubbing the fragile flesh beneath raw and tender.

The song was still singing when Longan breached the surface of the brine, clawing their way through the final gap and finding themself finally drifting above it all. They opened their gills and breathed, heavy at first, and then softer. Already, they found themself bring dragged down by gravity once more, but it felt easier to move from where they currently rested, though it was no less difficult to see. There was no light here--none from above--though looking down, the brine on the ocean floor seemed to glow the palest of teals.

The song rocked softly, so loud that their head buzzed from the noise. It sounded louder to their right, so they angled their head in that direction and began to swim to investigate.

They drifted close. Closer. The golden light shining off of their eyes illuminated what lay ahead dimly, until they could see the face of what looked to be some kind of statue--the statue of the beautiful face of a young woman, one who looked so distantly familiar, Longan could swear they should have been able to remember her name. And yet the song of the sea seemed to emanate from somewhere deep within the statue, playing like the distant memory of a lullaby.

Before Longan could think too much of it, the statue suddenly moved. Soft, quiet eyes suddenly stared back at them, and the music that the sea had been singing all this time faded all at once.

Longan flinched backwards for a moment, alarmed, but didn't draw too far back. Recognition snapped into place in their mind all at once--the song of the sea a song that sailors used to sing on the ocean when they missed their loved ones at home. The thick sea of brine that twisted like rivers in the trenches of the sea, the very same brine that fell from her head like hair. The tale of the Sea Fairy, how she loved the moon so fiercely she never stopped trying to reach the cookie she loved, until finally she did and disappeared thousands of years ago.

This was where she disappeared to.

She stared at them for a long moment, the living embodiment of water staring deeply into their own eyes with a chronic lack of fear that either came from ignorance or dismissal. The brine glowed stronger now, as if awoken from a deep sleep of its own, shimmering a cold teal and allowing Longan to finally see for the first time in what felt like weeks.

She was silent. They were, too.

"I thought you were somebody else for a moment," Sea Fairy murmured, her eyes drooping tiredly. The glow of the ocean floor eased, but didn't go away entirely.

Longan answered: "The depths of the ocean is far too deep for any light from the sky to reach."

"I know," came the quiet answer--quiet, though it still trembled loudly in the air. She shifted, her eyes sliding away from them and drifting to the side, a spark of some unnameable emotion Longan never cared to consider slipping onto her face for a moment.

"So this," Longan Dragon Cookie noted, gazing about the empty ocean themself, "is where you have been hiding all of this time, brooding because you could never reach the unreachable dreamer." It wasn't a question--it was a statement of fact.

Sea Fairy hummed, the sound not dissimilar to the song they'd heard in their search to find the source. The song of love. Were Longan Dragon Cookie not fully aware of just whose domain they resided in, they likely would have scoffed.

"You have dived quite deep," she murmured finally, "to have come here." Carefully, her eyes slipped back over to them, her brow lightly furrowed as she gazed upon the comparatively small dragon. "I wish that you hadn't."

"I certainly didn't descend these depths to find you," Longan proclaimed, searching the ocean floor for a distant island that could be deemed at a safe distance. There was none. "I followed the sound of the sea's song of love, and it brought me here. That is all."

"What are you doing so deep in the first place?" she asked, moving. Longan Dragon twisted back, scowling, but she continued to move her arm, slowly extending a cupped hand, assumedly for them to perch upon. As if they would. "You're no manner of sea dragon."

The bubbles rose from Longan's snout in a shimmering gesture, eyes shifting from hand to face to general demeanor. Her hair fell slowly in waves, blanketing the bottom of the ocean floor in a salty teal that glowed with the power of her magic. Somehow it made her seem paler, framing her face and making it almost seem to glow like the face of the moon on a clear night--all except for her eyes, dark and carefully neutral like the depths of a somber sea.

She was beautiful, they thought.

"I could ask the same," they answered briskly, turning their head aside but still keeping their eye on the waking legend. "But we already know that reason. Don't we?"

Sea Fairy Cookie blinked.

"Is that why you're here, then?" she asked, voice humming like the the curling currents. "To relish in fate's decision to leave you lonely?"

Longan Dragon opened their mouth to speak, but paused, grimacing--an out-of-character action that took them by surprise. But there was something to it that troubled them, rearing its ugly head and hissing with agony and frustration. For several long moments, Longan Dragon Cookie puzzled over it, eyes flickering slowly and warily over the oceanic hue surrounding them.

And then it hit them.

'Alone'.

In all of Longan Dragon Cookie's efforts to expunge the world of all cookie life, they've found themself alone. In electing to live their life in accordance to the superiority of dragonkind, they've also turned away from their very own family--their dragon kin, their brood, their heart. How disgustingly attached to mortal musings they had been. How spiteful and angry they were to turn Longan's vision for the future away.

They'd seen these events unfold. They knew this song and dance. As far as they were concerned, it was worth a millennium of loneliness, if it meant destroying the cookies who were destroying the world and the legacy left behind by dragons everywhere.

But now they were facing the consequences.

And here they were, facing the unforeseen--a living goddess hiding beneath the sea, for a thousand years hence, unable to face her own loneliness in her longing for the sleeping moon.

Briskly, Longan's tail thrashed back and forth, claws digging into the stone to keep themself rooted in place. "I made my decision long ago," they hissed, vile and contemptuous, turning their head to glare at the queen of the sea. Such a shame that it wasn't quite so easy to turn the very sea itself into stone.

She met their gaze for a long, silent moment that was only as silent as a dragon's heart beat. It was only as silent as the static noise of the ocean floor. Somewhere leagues away, a whale hit the bottom of the ocean floor, alone and dead.

She closed her eyes and shifted her head, the light of her magic flickering subtly.

"I did, as well," she whispered. "A long, long time ago."

She really was beautiful, Longan decided. They wondered whether the moon saw her face looking up toward the sky, eyes meeting eyes in desperate want to hold her hands and dance together rather than miles upon miles away from each other. Had Moonlight seen her--seen her reaching out her hands toward the sky from atop her tower, trying to do something so small as to be acknowledged once more by her love?

Or had Moonlight merely slept through it all, peaceful and unawares, as uncaring to the sea's pull as a cream wolf was to it's freshly-killed meal?

"Perhaps," Sea Fairy breathed, drawing Longan grudgingly from their thoughts, "if you don't mind... perhaps we can be lonely together. Just for a while."

She lifted her hand once again. Unlike her face, it was dark, like the abyss of the sea swallowed the light and refused to grant it purchase. They hadn't noticed it when she lifted her hand before, and they hadn't noticed when she moved her hand back to her side.

Dubiously, Longan turned their attention toward her face once more, taking in the expression of her eyes, the movements of her face. Perhaps she was trying not to sound desperate. Who knew how long she'd spent in these depths in an exile of her own making, cold and alone?

Who knew how long it'd take for Longan to find company of their own, in the world above the sea where their pairs of eyes could see?

They knew.

"Very well," they scoffed. "If only for a time."

Gradually, they lifted themself up and swam to Sea Fairy's waiting hand. They nestled there uneasily, muscles tense and poised to spring away at the slightest sense that danger was afoot. But her hand didn't move, and it was oddly warm to be held by the hand of a cookie god where the sun never touched and warmth only came from volcanic vents along the sea floor.

They hoped, then, that they didn't sound desperate.

[spookyscarycreepydollgirl]

NSFW Warning: This contains people mentioning having sex. They do not have sex in this, but it is mentioned that they did. Honestly not sure how required this warning is in this case but I’m not taking any chances.

Bastion: *brooding after having sex with Ida for the first time*

Ida: *tired but staying awake to address whatever angsty nonsense this is* “Hey you, that’s a very thinky frown”

Bastion: “Ida, what are we?”

Ida: *hums* “Good question, well I’m squatting in your freaky death house and you’re trying to eat me sooo Tom and Jerry?”

Bastion: “I only meant that we just had sex”

Ida: *drily* “So did Tom and Jerry.”

Bastion: *fretting* “I really like you.” Ida: “Yep, that’s been made very clear.”

Bastion: “But I want to eat you”

Ida: “Also, been made pretty clear.”

Bastion: “And I would like to do this with you again”

Ida: “Me too actually.”

Bastion: *crescendo of fretting* “But Ida, if I caught you, I would still devour you, in fact I feel hungrier for you now than I did before.”

Ida: “Mn, creepy, but I’ll allow it”

Bastion: *finally notices that Ida is being smart with him* “Ida I get the distinct impression that you aren’t taking this conversation particularly seriously”

Ida: “Bastion, we just fucked.”

Bastion: “Language.”

Ida: *sticks tongue out* “I am tired and the post coitus fuzzies aren’t going to make my input on this any sounder but: I’ve never actually felt safe, at any point in my life, not really, so if you’re worried I’ve misread the danger you pose, then you’re wrong, I don’t trust you to not be a predator Bastion, but…*intertwines her hand with his* I am trusting you with this.”

Bastion: “This” *spoken reverently* “I want this so badly Ida, but what if tomorrow is the day I catch you?”

Ida: *reaches out with other hand and boops his nose* “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself spider boy, but, on the off chance you get very very lucky, I’m not going to hold your true nature against you.”

Bastion: “Could you perhaps promise that? I know humans are not as bound by these things as Fae, but it would comfort me to hear you promise.”

Ida: *rolls eyes* “Bastion, I promise not to hold you trying to eat me or succeeding at eating me against you just because we’ve had sex”

Bastion: “It’s silly I know, I want to devour you, but I do not want to betray you or hurt you. I thought to keep how I felt a secret from you. When I realised I loved you, I was ashamed of myself, I have always been greedy, hunger has ever been my nature, but to want your heart and affection, even though I could never resist devouring you, it seemed a degree of selfishness outrageous even to me”

Ida: “Well, I won’t say it’s not greedy, but I will say I don’t really mind” *yawns*

Bastion: “Ida?”

Ida: *sleepily* “Yes Bastion?”

Bastion: “If I catch you can I still kiss you? Can I hold you gently before I eat you? Can I address you warmly even when you are digesting inside me?

Ida: “Sure Bastion” *yawns* “I don’t see mnn why not…” *falls asleep*

Bastion: “…” *holds her tightly*

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

Csptaineer art request 5. admiring them from afar

dear anon, I know you asked for art but I had intended these as writing prompts! however!! I may doodle something for this later anyway, because it's cute :3

and still, never do we tire of watching stars glow

head engineer mark x reader (the captain) | words: 877

For as long as you'd known him, he'd always had a certain look of awe about him when it came to space:

When you were kids, huddled up in blankets watching a documentary about The Solar System while you shared a bowl of cookies.

And as teens, laying side by side in the dry summer grass, gazing up at the stars dotting the sky, laughing and pointing out constellations and making up stories about what it would be like when you got to be among them. 

And as cadets, the first time you voyaged beyond Earth's atmosphere.

Now the Captain of a ship he'd built from the ground up, it took you by surprise when you looked up from your data tablet one day to see him gazing at you with that same look of wistfulness and wonder.

His expression lasted for the briefest moment before he registered that you'd seen him, eyes widening and cheeks flushing almost imperceptibly from this distance. He immediately averted his gaze to anywhere but yours, busying himself with whatever he could.

You let out an amused huff, an incredulous yet flattered smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

It was far from the first time you'd caught someone giving you a starstruck or near-mesmerised look, especially within your own crew. But for him to be the one staring like that? The same admiration and fascination that you'd seen in his eyes when he beheld an eclipse, or a meteor shower, or your new home planet, directed at you…? 

You couldn't deny the small flutter in your stomach, or your heartbeat slightly quickening its pace.

You brushed off the thought and continued working, but from then on you couldn't help but keep noticing the awe and longing when he looked at you, whether it be from across a room or in conversation. It made you wonder if this was a recent phenomenon, or if you had simply been blind to it for a long time.

It was one of those moments of catching his warm, starlit gaze in which you were caught off-guard once again.

You met his eyes with the same intensity once you realised he was watching you, raising your eyebrows slightly to get his attention. He looked embarrassed and a little taken aback, as he always did in such scenarios, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he decided whether or not to abandon ship. Instead, his mouth curved into a smile that crinkled his eyes with fondness, followed by a quick wink. 

Now it was your turn to look surprised. 

It's not that the gesture was out of character or that he couldn't be bold when he wanted to. You just hadn't expected it now.

Later, you found it in you to be direct.

‘What's with all the staring lately, Mark?’

His eyes widened at the question. It wasn't particularly like you to be so upfront about something like this.

You watched as your head engineer’s expression turned apologetic and a little guilty, like he'd been caught red-handed.

‘Uhh- I'm sorry. Am I in trouble, Captain?’

You giggled quietly. ‘Nah. I never said I minded, just wondering…’

He visibly relaxed at your response.

‘Oh, well in that case. To be honest, Cap, it's sorta hard to look away sometimes.’

You felt your face flush at this, but were given no pause to utter a reply even if you’d had the words; he continued quickly, as if just realising what he'd said aloud and in the same moment deciding to fully commit to speaking his mind, before he could let himself back out.

‘I just- I love seeing you doing your job, you look so happy and assured. And proud — of everyone you work with, proud that you're part of the team. You're always so willing to help out and listen to what everyone needs. And watching you take command of a situation- You just– you have this aura that screams that you belong here, this is what you were meant to do, and you have a positive effect on everybody around you. We're so lucky and grateful to have you as our Captain.’

And here you are, stunned into silence for a moment. 

He stands there, trying to gauge your reaction, a little flustered himself but steadfast in his confession.

You feel a little giddy, but take a breath to soothe your racing heart, finally composing yourself again as the smile you can no longer hold back paints your face.

‘Thank you, Mark. That's… that's really sweet.’

He grins. ‘Just being honest.’

‘And I feel exactly the same about you, by the way.’ 

He tilts his head in confusion.

‘Watching you in action, it's the same.’

You can see it in his eyes when it clicks.

‘Wait, Captain, are you saying you-’

‘Almost as much as you,’ you chuckle. ‘Except I don't get caught. You could definitely use some improvement in that area.’

He looks away, smile becoming sheepish, the tint on his cheeks you are sure matches yours from only moments ago. 

‘But… like I said,’ you speak up again, drawing his attention back to you. ‘I don't really mind. It is kinda cute seeing your reaction when I catch you.’

[musical-chick-13]

What if I made this as off-putting as possible instead of romantic.

[franeridan]

you'll think you've gotten better at dealing with the way women are written in anime or that maybe anime have gotten better at writing women and then you'll realise the only thing that got better is your ability to pick shoujo over shounen

[gotchaocha]

I’be recently started reading “Solitare” by Alice Oseman, and it’s making me think that it’s interesting that her most famous work is heartstopper.

I think what makes it interesting is that this book, and like “I was born from this” , or even “Loveless” deal with a reality that seems less romanticized (?) then heartstopper?

[physalian]

How to make your writing sound less stiff

Just a few suggestions. You shouldn’t have to compromise your writing style and voice with any of these, and some situations and scenes might demand some stiff or jerky writing to better convey emotion and immersion. I am not the first to come up with these, just circulating them again.

1. Vary sentence structure.

This is an example paragraph. You might see this generated from AI. I can’t help but read this in a robotic voice. It’s very flat and undynamic. No matter what the words are, it will be boring. It’s boring because you don’t think in stiff sentences. Comedians don’t tell jokes in stiff sentences. We don’t tell campfire stories in stiff sentences. These often lack flow between points, too.

So funnily enough, I had to sit through 87k words of a “romance” written just like this. It was stiff, janky, and very unpoetic. Which is fine, the author didn’t tell me it was erotica. It just felt like an old lady narrator, like Old Rose from Titanic telling the audience decades after the fact instead of living it right in the moment. It was in first person pov, too, which just made it worse. To be able to write something so explicit and yet so un-titillating was a talent. Like, beginner fanfic smut writers at least do it with enthusiasm.

2. Vary dialogue tag placement

You got three options, pre-, mid-, and post-tags.

Leader said, “this is a pre-dialogue tag.”

“This,” Lancer said, “is a mid-dialogue tag.”

“This is a post-dialogue tag,” Heart said.

Pre and Post have about the same effect but mid-tags do a lot of heavy lifting.

They help break up long paragraphs of dialogue that are jank to look at

They give you pauses for ~dramatic effect~

They prompt you to provide some other action, introspection, or scene descriptor with the tag. *don't forget that if you're continuing the sentence as if the tag wasn't there, not to capitalize the first word after the tag. Capitalize if the tag breaks up two complete sentences, not if it interrupts a single sentence.

It also looks better along the lefthand margin when you don’t start every paragraph with either the same character name, the same pronouns, or the same “ as it reads more natural and organic.

3. When the scene demands, get dynamic

General rule of thumb is that action scenes demand quick exchanges, short paragraphs, and very lean descriptors. Action scenes are where you put your juicy verbs to use and cut as many adverbs as you can. But regardless of if you’re in first person, second person, or third person limited, you can let the mood of the narrator bleed out into their narration.

Like, in horror, you can use a lot of onomatopoeia.

Drip Drip Drip

Or let the narration become jerky and unfocused and less strict in punctuation and maybe even a couple run-on sentences as your character struggles to think or catch their breath and is getting very overwhelmed.

You can toss out some grammar rules, too and get more poetic.

Warm breath tickles the back of her neck. It rattles, a quiet, soggy, rasp. She shivers. If she doesn’t look, it’s not there. If she doesn’t look, it’s not there. Sweat beads at her temple. Her heart thunders in her chest. Ba-bump-ba-bump-ba-bump-ba- It moves on, leaving a void of cold behind. She uncurls her fists, fingers achy and palms stinging from her nails. It’s gone.

4. Remember to balance dialogue, monologue, introspection, action, and descriptors.

The amount of times I have been faced with giant blocks of dialogue with zero tags, zero emotions, just speech on a page like they’re notecards to be read on a stage is higher than I expected. Don’t forget that though you may know exactly how your dialogue sounds in your head, your readers don’t. They need dialogue tags to pick up on things like tone, specifically for sarcasm and sincerity, whether a character is joking or hurt or happy.

If you’ve written a block of text (usually exposition or backstory stuff) that’s longer than 50 words, figure out a way to trim it. No matter what, break it up into multiple sections and fill in those breaks with important narrative that reflects the narrator’s feelings on what they’re saying and whoever they’re speaking to’s reaction to the words being said. Otherwise it’s meaningless.

—

Hope this helps anyone struggling! Now get writing.

[dollgxtz]

Getting Closer

Word Count: 4.6k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, cnc, stalking roleplay, rough sex, taunting, home invasion roleplay, crying, pet names like kitten, and sweetie, spanking

AN: Hiii again! Tyvm for 900 notes on my last story!!! I didn't think dark romance content with Sylus would be popular with ppl (I keep seeing convos about people mis-characterizing him). But honestly I think people should write him however they see fit!! I love seeing different interpretations! However, one things for certain. This man is definitely into primal play and no one can convince me other wise. This is loosely based on the midnight stealth story where he says "You're pretty good at running away" and "I truly enjoy watching my little prey struggle, especially when it thinks it can escape from me"

AHHHH ENOUGH TYPING ENJOYYYYY!!! (✿˶’◡��)♡

Its a late evening and you and your dearest coworker Tara (who you basically considered your bestie at this point) were having a delicious dinner at one of the most high rated restaurants in Linkon. What was the occasion? Nothing special actually, Tara was just an intense foodie and felt the need to drag you to practically every restaurant in the city when she was feeling a particular craving. Not that you minded, it was actually nice to get to do something other than fighting for once. The Wanderers had been getting more frequent lately, and it seemed like every other day you were being called to fight them off.

Tara was busy chatting away about her own exhaustion from work, how badly her last haircut had gone, and some guy she had met on the subway that couldn't seem to leave her alone. You could only giggle as she went on and on about him. Despite her obvious distaste for the guy, you thought he actually seemed pretty well rounded. You had been hesitating on telling her about Sylus. You didn't worry that he was going to leave you for Tara, nothing ridiculous like that. He was just...hard to explain. I mean what could you say?

"Oh yeah, I'm dating the leader of Onychinus, yeah the one that escaped from space prison and rules the N109 Zone...did I mention he probably owns this restaurant? But don't worry he's SUCH a sweet guy if you get to know him!"

Yeah...probably wouldn't go well. You let out an exasperated sigh, looking out of the restaurants tall window. It was a bit chilly tonight, no doubt it would start snowing soon. You turn to Tara again, whose still in the middle of her stories of her bad dates. You're about to ask her if she's ready for the check when your phone rings.

Tara gets a dangerous look in her eye and before you can even blink she snatches your phone off the table and abruptly answers.

"Is this the mysterious handsome boyfriend my friend wont tell me about?" she coos, blocking your attempts to grab your phone. "Tara!! Please!" you exclaim, trying your hardest to not get the attention of the other patrons.

You feel your ears heat up as you get up from the booth. She laughs at something he says as you finally get your device from her grasp. She huffs in amusement from her little joke. You put the phone to your ear to hear Sylus chuckling a bit.

"Sorry ...um, what did you want?" you say lowly, trying to get yourself together.

"I'm guessing that's...Tessa?" Sylus says, clearly amused by the situation. He's got that...tone in his voice. The one he uses when he's toying with you. You feel your face heat up, trying to keep your cool with Tara watching close next to you.

"Tara" you correct, coldly, shooting her a death glare. "She's still got a few screws loose clearly". She giggles at this comment and you sigh.

"She seems pretty funny to me"

"What did you want? I was just about to head ho-"

"I really like your hair today, kitten" Sylus says, his voice seemingly lower and...dark?

You feel the hairs on your neck stand up, immediately you begin to scan the restaurant. He hasn't seen you today at all...is he in the restaurant? Is Mephisto outside somewhere tattling again? You scan everywhere but no sight of either one of them.

"Cat got your tongue sweetie?"

You swallow, turning back to the phone. "I see you have nothing better to do than send that damn bird to spy on me again. I'm taking him apart when I find him" you say, trying your hardest to sound calm.

Tara tilts her head in confusion, and you give her an awkward grin. Dammit. You'll have to explain it off as an inside joke or something later. Sylus chuckles again on the other end, sending a million thoughts racing in your head.

"Who said anything about Mephisto? He's back at home, probably resting".

"Then how..." your voice trails off, the words seemingly stuck in your throat. Curse this man, always playing his stupid mind games with you.

"What do you mean how? I can see you of course. How else would I know sweetie?"

Ah...so he is here. He's just hiding from you, probably enjoying the look of your panicked face and you wiping your sweaty palms on your skirt.

"That skirt will roll up pretty easy don't you think, kitten?" Sylus says, drawing out every syllable. You can hear the smile through the phone and it infuriates you. But it also forms a knot in your stomach from excitement. He's got you right where he wants you clearly.

You suddenly hang up on him, barely able to bear the tension forming in you heart and stomach. You sigh and turn your attention back to your very worried coworker. "Um...sorry. I think we should probably get the check don't you think? Its late haha..." you trail off, trying to look less stressed. What was that idiot thinking?? There's no way you were gonna do that in public. You try looking through the window again, trying to spot even a tall silhouette somewhere but nothing...where is he???

You feel cold fingers touch your shoulder, and you whip your head to face Tara. "I'm sorry if I made you upset...or him. Is everything okay with you both?" she asks, her brows furrowed in confusion. Your head spins trying to come up with some explanation for your panic. Is there even a good excuse? No way you could tell her that its some kind of sex game you both indulge in right???

"Umm, look its fine!! Nothing to worry about Tara, I forgive you" you say quickly, gathering your things into your bag. "I have to go though, lets get the check yeah?"

Tara, albeit still puzzled, nods her head in agreement. "Lets meet here again next week! But please, if you ever need to talk to me I'm here okay?" she says softly, before leaning in to give you a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. You both chat for a bit before the waiter comes with the check, bidding each other goodbye once the bill was settled.

You open the door to the restaurant and shiver as the crisp, early winter air envelopes your body. It wasn't nearly this cold earlier and you curse yourself for picking this stupid thin skirt to wear. The sun has long set and its dark. The moon gives the street a nice glow however, which settles your nerves a little.

Your phone rings.

You stop dead in your tracks, debating if you should even pick up. With shaky fingers, you finally answer.

"You know I don’t like being hung up on, where’s your manners hm?" Sylus asks. You glance over your shoulder, half expecting to see his annoying grin, but there's nothing there. You nod absentmindedly and murmur a quick "whatever" as you keep walking. Maybe if you stay quiet, you’ll catch the sound of his footsteps and figure out his location?

"You're close...aren't you Sylus?" you say, trying to sound confident in your question. In all honesty you had no idea.

"Obviously. I can smell that vanilla perfume I love so much. You should wear it more often"

"Its not really that good of a scent, too sweet. I don't like it..." you mutter, voice shaking as you walk. You hear a crunch behind you and you whip your head around. Unfortunately, its just some stray cats scurrying about near some trash cans. You cant tell whether your relieved or more frightened that its not Sylus.

"We both know that's not true. You always wear it on our dates..." he chuckles through the phone, as if it finds it amusing. "Always trying to impress me, how cute”.

Ah, so he did notice. You found it kind of freaky how observant he was sometimes. He probably knew you better than yourself at times. But this confirmed something very important. He was close, close enough to smell you. Did you pass by him by accident and didn't notice? You start walking a bit faster, hoping to catch the last subway home before in leaves the station.

"Zip it" you growl into the phone. You look up ahead, spotting some mirrors being displayed in some glass displays. Ah hah...maybe you'll see glimpses of him if you stop by?

You abruptly stop in front of one of the mirrors, pretending to admire your appearance.

"Do you think I should wear my hair like this more often Sylus?" you ask, narrowing your eyes to look in the reflection. There is someone, but its not Sylus. Just a disheveled looking guy smoking a cigarette.

"Using the reflection are we? What a clever little kitten you are...~"

He hangs up.

You spin around, hoping to catch sight of him. I mean c'mon, he's over 6ft, wide shoulders, and white hair. He should be easy to spot, even in the dark. But again, nothing.

But you know he's still watching you. You can feel it. You begin to hug yourself, partly out of fear but also out of being cold. You needed to hurry if you didn't want to be stuck walking the rest of the way to your apartment.

Part of you didn't want to admit it but this was exciting. You liked Sylus when he was sweet yes...but you liked it more when he was dangerous. You keep up a slightly fast pace, trying to keep your head on a swivel. You battle between feeling scared and confident, your stomach in shambles.

You turn your head as you enter the crowd of people waiting to board the subway. All of them seemingly tired and needing somewhere to be. You swipe your subway pass through the gate lock and it opens.

Your phone rings again, and out of instinct you hang up on him. Then you get an idea. You call back.

The distinct ring tone of Sylus's phone can barely be heard over the noise of people chattering but you hear it!! You strain to hear it but it only rings once before he picks up.

"You always manage to impress me with how clever you are. Too bad it won't save you in the end...will it?" Sylus chuckles.

"Quit talking and stop hiding prick" you spat, looking around.

"Ah ah ah, patience sweetie. Unless you want me to take what's mine in front of all these people?"

You can tell by Sylus's tone that he's losing his resolve. More importantly his patience. No doubt he'd be turning up the intensity of yall's little game very soon. You shiver, imagining you pinned underneath him, whining and mewling from his cock while people pass.

"What's your plan kitten?" he asks, the sounds of brakes and doors opening echoing through the phone. "I know where you live, I know what turns you make, what your street looks like. You know you can't outrun me"

"Ha, well I know that you cant hide forever, Sylus" you say triumphantly. You step onto the subway, trying your hardest to push past people.

That's when you see it. The white hair, the red eyes. Your gazes find each other almost instantly. Despite walking into your trap, Sylus's mouth forms an almost villainous grin and he starts taking strides towards you. The door shuts behind him.

You hang up.

Thankfully, people pile behind you, giving you some cover from him. You turn your head over your shoulder, watching him closely. He's wearing a black turtleneck with a brown winter jacket made somewhat of leather. He's broad, and tall and yet blends in fine with the people around him.

You watch as he scans every face and seat he passes. You attempt to back up but are met with a few disgruntled people telling you to stop pushing. You're trapped. Panicking, you try to think. Maybe you could get off a stop early? No, he'd definitely get to your place before you. You have to get home and lock the doors, maybe barricade if you have to. All you can do is think to press yourself against the glass doors to hopefully be the first one off.

You turn around, and realize he's staring you down intently. Somehow he had made his way right behind you without you noticing. He towers above you, blocking your view of other people.

Shit shit shit.

His expression, once smug, now drops. His eyes glare at you from under his brow. You feel frozen, like a deer in headlights. Like true prey. All you can think to do in the moment is turn back around, avoiding his gaze. Sure, he's got you pinned now. But he won't do anything with all these people around right?

You feel him lean down, breath hot against your ear.

"Did you really think you could escape from me?" he growls, trailing a finger down the curve of your spine. You shiver from his touch, your instincts screaming at you to bolt away from him immediately.

"I do like to play with my prey a little...but you know I always find you" he says, resting a hand on your hip now. Your shaking now, whether from fear or excitement, you don't really know. He's so close you can feel the hardness of his erection against your ass. He's definitely at his limit now.

Not wanting him to think he's won just yet, you remain silent and whip your head away from him. You look at the faces of your fellow passengers but no one seems to notice you. They're all busy engrossed in their phones or conversations.

"No ones going to help you kitten". He mocks. He gets even closer, resting his arm on the wall beside you, angling his body so no one can see you. He takes his free hand and slides it under your shirt, caressing your soft tummy, up to your belly button, eventually settling on the roundness of your breasts.

You desperately try to reach up to remove his hands but of course to no avail, it doesn't work. You feel heat rising to your face...but not only there. An aching, hot feeling in the core of your stomach and between your legs engulfs you.

"Sylus...really? Here?" you ask, voice shaking, trying your best to hold in a whimper. Sylus doesn't answer, only continuing touch your breasts. His thumb and index finger rests on one of your nipples, pinching it slightly. You nearly drop to the ground, pain and pleasure sweeping through your core.

'What's wrong? I can touch you wherever and whenever I please" he says plainly, continuing his assault on your nipple. "You're mine".

As if trying to prove a point, his hands comes off your breast and dips underneath your skirt. He swiftly but roughly begins to press his fingers against your pussy over the fabric of your underwear. You gasp at the suddenness of the assault, your knees threatening to buck underneath you. You grab his wrist in an attempt to stop him but he ignores you.

"I should just take you right here. What do you think sweetie?" he whispers in your ear, clearly enjoying the sight of your distraught face.

As if the universe decided to grant mercy on you, the robotic voice of the intercom suddenly announces the name of your stop.

The doors open. You lose your balance, but quickly recover before you eat gravel. You don't even bother to look behind you, you just start bolting, trying to put as much distance between you and Sylus as you can.

"Aww, kitten where are you going? We're just getting started" Sylus chimes from behind you. No doubt not even bothering to chase after you. You knew he'd catch up in his own ways. Ignoring him, you keep bolting, all that track during high school thankfully being good for something.

You make a sharp turn into an alley, your stamina beginning to falter but you know you cant stop. Your phone rings, and in a burst of anger you answer.

"Quit calling!" your voice a mix of anger, desperation and fear, which gives Sylus a good chuckle once more. He's completely unphased by your little tantrum.

"I must ask, why pick an alley? Are you trying to make this easy for me?" he teases.

You turn your head, almost gasping when you see the familiar silhouette of Sylus.

Then he moves. Long, quick strides and he's already closed the distance between you two. He's whistling a familiar tune, no doubt from one of his many records. You recognize it almost immediately, its one of your favorites. But now rather than soothing, its just rather unnerving.

You snap out of your frozen state and keep bolting, narrowly missing Sylus's attempt to grab your hair.

"My kitten is still fairly quick, I see. Good job sweetie" he praises, his footsteps still not far behind you. You know his words are made mockingly. He could've easily grabbed you with his Evol if he wanted to. He's simply toying with you now. Playing with his food.

You turn sharply out of the alleyway, the sight of the gates to your apartment building in view. Safety. Its so close. A rush of adrenaline courses through your veins. The wind whips past your face as you push your body past its limits. The night is even colder now with the sweat pouring all down your body. Your hair is even sticking to your neck and face now but all you can think about is bolting up the stairs and locking yourself away.

You made it to the base of the stairs, wasting no time to run up the stairs. There it is.

You hear footsteps behind you.

The door. Now. GO. You dash through your doorway, cursing yourself about why the door was even unlocked in the first place. But in this situation? It was a blessing in disguise.

That was the fastest you had ever locked a door in your life. You scanned the room making quick work of pushing the sofa against the door and a few chairs.

You collapse.

Your breathes come in uneven, staccato bursts, sweat having drenched your shirt by now. You rip it off over your head, the clamminess unbearable. Now only in your bra and skirt, you're able to breathe a bit. As you start to collect your thoughts, you freeze.

Wait. The balcony.

Fuck.

You get up quickly, rounding the corner to lock the balcony doors. Thankfully, they're still shut when you reach over to lock it.

Yes!! You won?? Did he give up?

There's nothing but silence and the sound of your ac humming for a few short moments. You start to question if Sylus actually did leave you alone, when your phone suddenly rings. You answer it. confidence ringing in your voice.

"I win Sylus. Thanks for the little game though" you retort, still attempting to catch your breath.

"Are you sure about that?" He asks. His voice is cool and calm. "How sure are you that you got to the balcony before I did?"

"Wha-I would've heard you Sylus..." you say with uncertainty. You weren't sure anymore. You look around. Your apartment isn't the biggest. No way he got in here without you noticing.

"Would you have heard me?"

"Pfft. You don't scare me" you spat, backing away from the balcony doors.

You hear him chuckle. "I guess I almost had you didn't I?". You make your way towards your the middle of your living room.

"Say...what do you think would've happened if I caught you kitten?"

Your thoughts stir in your nearly silent apartment. You aren't sure how to answer him, anxiety knotting in your stomach. You start making your way to your bedroom, with your face towards the balcony, watching it with intensity.

"Surprise...~"

You nearly jump out of your skin, a scream ripping through your throat as large arms wrap around your waist and lift you. Sylus is quick to cover your mouth, dragging your kicking and distraught form towards your bedroom.

He got in before you. Of course he did. He can be lightening fast after all.

You bite his hand, hard. He simply chuckles, causing you to get even more desperate.

"Let me go!" you yell.

"Sure sweetie" he drops you to the ground, giving you a small window of opportunity to run. You try, but he instantly grabs your hair, twisting it into his grip. You yelp, tears forming from the sudden pain. The more you struggle the more it hurts. You desperately try removing his hand but of course he doesn't budge.

He watches you with a pitiful look, rolling his eyes.

"So fucking predictable, as usual"

He starts dragging you across the hard marble floor. Your scalp feels like its on fire, each and every strand being stressed with every pull. He finally reaches your bedroom, wasting no time to bend you over the bed. You push back against him, attempting to kick him. He pulls your head back by your hair. You nearly scream, letting out a sob. Tears stream down your face as you try to look at him, pleading.

"Please, I'm sorry. Please don't" you beg. He simply laughs. You feel his Evol wrapping around you.

"None of those are safe words sweetie"

You choke back on tears. You're practically soaked now. And it wasn't sweat. You feel utterly helpless, trapped underneath him, begging to be freed. He reaches up a hand, undoing the clasps of your bra with one hand. Its falls off your chest effortlessly, leaving you exposed.

"Thanks for making this part easy. Though this skirt is still in the way" he mutters. He pins you to the bed, rolling your skirt up to reveal the skin of your ass.

"Sylus...please" you whimper. Your only answer from him is the sudden sting from a sudden slap to the ass. You yelp in pain, the hot achiness between your legs rising. He rips your underwear in two with swiftness.

"Sylus, please" he mocks, you can hear the grin on his face. 'Telling me you don't want this and yet your dripping all down your leg"

He slides a finger along your cunt, making your legs buck. He rolls a finger around your cunt a few times, earning a symphonies of moans from you. You're already desperate to cum and he's barely done anything to you. Breath ragged, legs shaking, your about to beg him to let you finish when he suddenly pulls away.

???

You're confused until you hear the sound of his belt unbuckle. Is he...going to fuck you already? Not that your disappointed at all. You brace yourself for a sudden intrusion when your met with the sharp sting. You yelp, the surprise of the attack sending shivers down your body. But he doesn't stop, he hits your ass again. And again. Then again. And again.

You feel like your about to pass out. The pain is overwhelming all your senses. But part of you doesn't want him to stop. Your sure you have belt shaped bruises littering your ass by now. The tears have completely clouded your vision. You cant see a thing.

"You're so pretty when you cry sweetie. So pretty~". Sylus reaches a hand up to your faces and wipes some tears away. He leans over, lifting your chin to look up at him.

"Are you doing okay?" his tone is soft, his expression a mix of wonder and worry. You nod enthusiastically, letting him know you're still enjoying this.

"Aw. Lets change that shall we?" he says, his soft expression turning into a smug grin. Your smile drops and your heart starts pound again.

This bastard.

He gives you one last hard whip to the ass before you hear the belt drop to the floor. Then the sound of him unzipping of his pants follows. Your pulse quickens in anticipation. You can't move though, his evol keeping you firmly in place. He puts his hand back in your hair, tugging just enough to remind you of your place beneath him. You feel him align his hips with yours.

"Sylus, I-"

Then he's pushing into you. You're so wet that all it takes is one fluid motion and he's in. Doesn't hurt any less though. You stifle a scream, trying desperately through your tears to beg him to pull out. His pace is deep and slow. It feels almost akin to torture. The head of his cock presses against your g-spot, building a painful high in your abdomen. The hour of teasing and adrenaline rush has you beyond overstimulated, you feel ready to burst at any moment but its not enough stimulation. You stay bordering on the edge of heaven, and yet he doesn't allow you to cross over. It feels like hours as he keeps getting you right to the tip of finishing and then slows down. It hurts so bad, and your crying over and over.

"Sylus...it hurts" you whimper.

"Its supposed to"

"Sylus...please" you beg, your voice shaking from desperation.

"Calm down kitten"

"Sylus-'

"I said calm yourself. Or I'll stop now. Do you want that?"

You whimper in disagreement, face planting into the bed once more. Sylus lifts your head by the chin, leaning down to give you a small kiss on the cheek. You look so beautiful right now, the puffiness and red of your eyes turning him on even more. He speaks, his voice hard and cold.

"Always so greedy. Spoiled brat."

With little to no warning, he slams his cock into your aching cunt. You gasp in shock, but have no time to process anything as he fucks you faster and harder with each thrust. Your so overstimulated that it only takes a few thrusts to make you cum. Your body tenses and shakes as you come undone on his cock. Your moaning while gasping for air, feeling the best you've ever felt and yet on the verge of passing out.

Sylus feels your cunt tighten so hard around him that he can't help but also come undone himself. You hear a small and faint "Fuck..." but your head is spinning too much to hear much else. You're in a trance practically.

You feel the stickiness of his cum dripping down your thigh and then your out like a light. Adrenaline and overstimulation had gotten the best of you. Sylus chuckles and gently lifts you onto your bed, pulling the sheets over your worn out body.

When you wake up, your eyes and head hurt so so bad. Your vision is blurry too. You attempt too blink the blurriness away.

Sylus.

You sit up, looking for him. Did he leave already? You look at the clock, the red hue of the lights read that its three in the morning.

"S-sylus?" you whimper, feeling slightly abandoned.

"Calm down sweetie, I'm here. Its cute watching you search for me though" he says, his figure appearing in the doorway. He's holding a water bottle and a wet rag. He sits next to you, and starts gently wiping the dried tears from your face. You look down, your thighs still a sticky mess of cum, sweat and desperation from earlier. Sylus smiles a bit, laughing under his breath.

"I figured I could run you a shower when you woke up" he says, stretching out his hand for you. "Although the plumbing here is...less than adequate I guess I could join you".

You roll your eyes, laughing at his dumb remark before taking his hand in yours. You cant help but crack a smile.

"Yeah, lets go"

[ozzgin]

Omg bro yk whats been on my mind for do long?? A demon king trying to court a hero reader. Like the hero has already fought and defeated the king but somehow he comes back and he's desperately trying to get the hero to join him (in more ways than one). He wants the reader to be his spouse and leader of his army against the corrupt human race and the reader (now fallen from stardom due to the evil kings defeat) just wants him gone and to be left alone. Idk if this makes sense but I need to see SOMEONE write abt it before I lose my last marble.

-Doll

This is giving me Dragon Quest vibes, haha. Not a trope I'm too familiar with, but it sounds interesting nonetheless. I shall do my best! Sorry for the delay, I hope it's close to what you imagined. :)

Yandere! Demon King x Hero! Reader

As it goes with villains, they always find a way to return. This time, the Demon King has a different plan in mind. You were prepared for anything, from evil schemes to ancient conjured weapons...except for a wedding ring cordially placed before you. Do you say yes?

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, 🔥proposal (literally)

[Part 2]

You still remember everything so fondly. How you crawled out of that enormous crater, body battered and weak, as everyone watched in horror and held their breaths. Finally, you raised your fist victoriously. The Demon King had been, at last, defeated. The people cheered and cried and pulled you up under thundering waves of applause. Peace was no longer just a dream.

A sweet, innocent memory, even more so given its fleeting nature. The genuine smiles of gratitude quickly turned into crooked grins asking for favors. Before you knew it, you became some sort of political accessory to convince the masses. Posing for photos, shaking hands, being interviewed with bizarrely planned questions reeking of propaganda. You suddenly felt burdened, heavy, disappointed. This was not the kind of fame you envisioned for yourself.

Thus, you gradually vanished from the limelight, keeping your distance from everyone else and spending most days in solitude. Better than having to look into those unscrupulous, opportunistic eyes measuring up your worth. You had fulfilled your job and purpose.

This morning you're woken up by the sound of your belongings rattling in their shelves. The wooden frame of your bed is creaking, and you struggle to get up. An earthquake? A wave of nausea flushes over you. You recognize this feeling all too well, though you never expected to deal with it again. This is a disaster alright, yet the forces of nature have nothing to do with it.

You rush outside, swinging the door open and nearly tripping in your hurry to confirm your suspicions: the demonic creature is approaching your humble adobe with heavy steps, as the ground crumbles and shatters underneath. The Demon King himself, in flesh and blood. Although the blood splattering his armor is most likely not his. Same for the visceral remains threading his weapon. Regardless, your jaw tightens nervously, and you stand back, in a defensive pose. "You're a stubborn one", you say smugly, trying to maintain your composure. "Can't say I'm a fan of dying, that is correct." A ragged, monstrous voice erupts from the tall, armored figure.

"What brings you back?" You demand. The surroundings are too peaceful for him to have tampered with the city. Did he stop by to formally announce his destruction? "I have an offer that might interest you." The Dark Overlord has closed the distance between you, now looming above your much smaller body. You shiver. "I don't barter with Demons!" You conclude, turning around, prepared to leave. "Even when your precious people are on the line?" The horned beast warns with a grin. "If there's nothing better to do as a Ruler of Realms than killing petty humans..." You swiftly retort, going back into your house and slamming the door shut.

He stands for a moment, speechless. "Y-your Majesty? Should I take care of the humans, or (Y/N)?" Only now he notices his scaly butler, bowing to his side with claws resting over the weapon. The Demon King raises a hand, shooing the servant away. The annihilation of the human race can wait. There are more important matters to deal with presently. He'd expected your rejection, naturally, but not in such fashion. The indifference, the flat voice, the empty eyes devoid of emotion. Have the city dwellers tampered with his hero? He expected to see your fierce rage and in return he was met with a hollow shell.

Bright blue flames erupt from the openings of his armor, resulting in a menacing show of lights. He's known it for the longest time, of course. Humans are rotten to their very core. Vile, deceitful creatures that have slithered their way up, exuding undeserved arrogance. He's been trying to show you this very fact, yet you were blinded by naive faith. Your unwavering, honest heart that won him over has turned out to be your early demise. Not anymore. His vengefulness knows no bounds when it comes to traitors.

The sudden spike in temperature alerts you. Was it your rudeness that angered the Demon? You don't care anymore. Whatever happens to the city is out of your hands. And yet...you're buckling the straps of your old suit made for battle. Sword in hand, you gaze at your reflection. What could the Beast want? The fortified city no longer holds the value of its olden days. Just like you've left your hero days behind. Without much contemplation, you run out and head for the main gates. The path is paved with ash and rubble and your grip on the weapon tightens. Regret immediately wells up in your chest, ready to burst out. Is it too late? The entrance is engulfed in fire, charred corpses toppling against the ruins of the walls.

You reach the town hall - or rather, what remains of it - and face the Demon King. Has he gotten stronger since your last encounter? You hold your breath as the horned monster turns towards you. "I've tried to tell you, again and again. Time after time." He sighs, defeated. "Between the two of us, I'd say you were the stubborn one all along." His voice is softer than what you would've expected from someone that had just massacred an entire settlement. There's not a single scratch or sign of struggle. Was he merely holding back during your last fight? One thing is certain: you're his final obstacle. You raise your sword, determined. Hot sweat trickles down your face as the flames surround you. "Well, at least you've convinced yourself now, I hope. There's nothing left for you here." The Demon King lowers himself, extending a fist towards you. A spell? Secret weapon? Your leg muscles contract in anticipation.

His fingers open and stretch out, slowly. In his palm, a barely noticeable ring. Given the ridiculous size difference, you assume this is better fitting for a human. You stare at it in confusion, discerning the wedding vows carved in the noble metal. "What's the meaning of this?" You mutter, glancing at the Beast now resting on one knee before you. "What? Is it not your human custom?" He looks away for a moment, clicking his tongue. "That useless butler. He told me- Forget it! You are to return with me to my Kingdom. As my spouse."

Of all the things you've prepared yourself for...Your brows furrow and your mouth hangs open in shock.

What is your answer? The Demon King will not leave empty-handed.

[streetsandsodiumlights]

(tags from @no-1-rosalind-lang-apologist)

By the way "some aroace people still date and have sex" and "it's weird how internet spaces makes every single aroace character romance and sex favourable" can and should co-exist. Sincerely, an aroace person

[awearywritersworld]

my very soul demands you

sukuna x reader summary: you introduce sukuna to cuddling and romance novels. meanwhile, he's still struggling to make sense of his feelings for you, despite wanting to commit murder because another man had the nerve to touch your arm (which earns him a lecture from yuuji). w/c: 2.5k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst to fluff. jealous!sukuna. aged up!yuuji. features yuuji x reader. cursing. banter. hopefully not too ooc for sukuna. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: this could maybe be read as a stand alone, but it'd flow much better with the context of the previous two parts. lots of denial and begrudging softness from sukuna here. definitely more fluff than anything tho. this series has been fun to write, so thanks for reading<3 i appreciate reblogs or feedback! let me know if you'd like to be tagged in any additional parts. series masterlist // masterlist

when you crawl in between sukuna's legs and curl up against his chest, it's a foreign experience that makes his body stiffen.

he'd been with countless women during his lifetime, but while fucking is one thing, he never once found himself in a position that struck him as this... intimate.

"hold me," you whine as if you can sense his unfamiliarity with such matters.

he rolls his eyes, beginning to wonder if your habit of throwing orders at him is actually some sort of compulsive need. "didn't anyone ever teach you manners?"

despite his irritation, he acquiesces to your demand and once he envelops you in his arms, some of his rigidness dissipates.

you hum contentedly. "isn't that better?"

"it's tolerable," he asserts, his chest vibrating against your cheek.

"whatever you say." tangling your legs with his, you turn your attention back to the movie you've both been watching.

he doesn't understand this... tedious display of affection, nor does he particularly enjoy it... right?

and he only allows it because he can't rid his mind of the image of your tear stained face... right?

yeah, that has to be it. he figures he can endure this, given that he was the reason you were so upset earlier.

it goes without saying that he doesn't realize it when he begins to rub absentminded circles on your back.

and the way the warmth of your body forces his usually tense muscles to relax goes unacknowledged.

when the credits begin to roll, sukuna's wearing an expression of unimpressed disinterest. "that's seriously how it ends?"

you don't respond, so he looks down only to find that you're fast asleep.

"tch. you ask to watch a movie, force me to pick it, and then you don't even have the decency to stay awake." he's not sure why he's chiding you even though he knows you can't hear him, but he keeps his voice low enough that it won't disturb you.

sukuna's spent more time than he cares to admit watching your sleeping form, but this is the first time that it's actually him you're pressed against. it's the first time he can reach out and touch you.

your hair has fallen across your face, so he pushes it back behind your ear gently. the pads of his fingers brush against your cheekbone, a ghost of a caress, and his gaze lingers on your parted lips.

he lets out a deep breath, tearing his eyes away from you. "impertinent brat."

reaching for the remote, he flips off the tv and casts the room in darkness.

upon waking up in the morning, yuuji's confused once he notices that he's on the couch and you're sleeping against his chest.

he may have been half asleep when he arrived home, but he's still positive he went to bed. stretching his arms above his head, the movement jostles you from your slumber.

"mornin', baby."

"good morning, yu," you yawn in response, shifting to sit up.

"how'd i wind up on the couch?" he asks, though he's already got an inkling of the answer.

"oh," you blush. "sukuna kind of made an appearance last night."

"that so? how'd it go?"

you think there might be a shadow of a smirk playing on his lips. is he teasing you?

"good," you offer. "we watched a movie."

"watched a movie with the king of curses," he muses before his face breaks out into a lopsided grin. "you sure are somethin', baby."

returning his smile, you lean in and press your lips to his. "hm. says you."

it's not uncommon for you to meet yuuji for lunch if his mission is short and nearby, and today is one of those days, so he eagerly makes his way to the cafe you agreed on.

he's still a few hundred feet away when he spots you through the window, chatting with a man he recognizes as your childhood friend.

his gaze drops to where his hand is wrapped around your forearm as you both share a laugh together.

it doesn't really bother yuuji, he trusts you implicitly and jealousy isn't an emotion that's really on his radar. the same can't be said for everyone, though.

sukuna watches on as well, his thoughts much darker than his vessel's. who does that wretch think he is, putting his hands on you?

you're not his to touch.

"give me control," sukuna growls, his mouth appearing on yuuji's cheek.

"and why would i do that?"

"so i can rip his heart out and gift it to her since he seems so interested in offering his affections."

"duuuude," yuuji begins, somewhat amused. "i don't think she'd be super crazy about you murdering her friend."

"fine," sukuna bites back, well aware that yuuji has a point. "but he can live without his filthy hands, can't he? perhaps i'll pull each arm from his torso—"

yuuji snorts. "you have some serious issues, man."

he can feel sukuna trying to take over and easily curbs the attempt, though that only fuels the king of curses' irritation. "my only issue lies in the fact you're allowing this to happen."

yuuji reaches the door, a bell chiming through the cafe as he pulls it open. "she's a big girl. she doesn't need either of us to dictate what can and can't happen to her."

once you see your boyfriend, your face lights up and you call out his name. you place a kiss on his cheek and snake an arm around his waist in greeting, and the space it puts between you and your friend is enough to keep sukuna from protesting further.

"you two have met, right?" you ask.

"yeah! hey, itadori! it's been a while."

"it has! good to see you, yamada."

"i'd love to stay and chat more, but i have to get going," he states, leaning in to give you a hug which you return. "we should all go out together soon!"

"absolutely not, you deplorable knave—" yuuji slaps a hand to his cheek before sukuna can continue and yamada gives him an odd look.

your eyes widen for a split second and you have to stop yourself from facepalming.

"what'd you say?" yamada asks, sounding a bit hesitant.

"i said absolutely, sounds like an enjoyable night!"

the men exchange a handshake before you and yuuji make your way to a table.

"sukuna, what the hell was that?" you hiss once yamada's out of earshot.

"i don't know what you mean," he responds smugly.

you meet yuuji's eye and he just shrugs his shoulders, but you swear the corners of his mouth twitch upward.

you can't imagine anything good coming from the two of them colluding with one another, but let it go anyway.

opening up your menu, you sigh in defeat. "if you say so."

"what do you mean you'd rather disembowel yourself?" you question the man sitting across from you.

it's becoming more commonplace to see those dark marks adorning yuuji's body during the nighttime hours. you sometimes wonder if he's letting it happen or if sukuna's just getting better at taking over, but you're too nervous to ask.

"do you need a dictionary? there's one over on the shelf—"

"no, asshole. i know what disembowel means! i just don't understand your refusal."

he raises his eyebrows at the obscenity, but doesn't comment on it. "i'm not reading some inane romance novel."

"but brontë's one of my favorite authors!"

"it makes no difference if it was penned by the gods. the thought alone is absurd. can we move on now?"

you don't respond. instead, you cross your arms and stare at the wall defiantly. your face is contorted into an expression that lets sukuna know you're clearly affronted.

"very mature, you silly little girl."

"sorry you find me and my interests so childish," you huff.

"oh, please. that's not what i said."

you continue giving him the cold shoulder, having no desire to argue further, but more than willing to die on this hill.

"fine, don't talk. it's no matter to me," he claims (despite it being the furthest thing from the truth).

as the minutes tick by, he keeps looking at you from the corner of his eye and exhaling dramatically.

eventually, he calls your name in an exasperated tone, and while it makes your heart flutter, you still don't spare him a glance. you just hold the book out for him and to your surprise, he rips it from your grasp.

"you're ridiculous," he grumbles, opening the cover to reveal the first page. "i hate you."

when he glances over to see you're beaming at him despite the insult, he adds (albeit half heartedly), "i mean it, brat."

the two of you sit in silence, each of you reading your respective books. a few chapters in, sukuna comes across the following conversation:

"do you know where the wicked go after death?" "they go to hell," was my ready and orthodox answer. "and what is hell? can you tell me that?" "a pit full of fire." "and should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning there for ever?" "no, sir." "what must you do to avoid it?" i deliberated a moment; my answer, when it did come, was objectionable: "i must keep in good health, and not die."

to your astonishment, you actually hear him chuckle, but when he looks over and finds your self satisfied smirk, any hint of humor disappears from his face in the blink of an eye. your hand quickly moves to your mouth to stifle a giggle.

"something you want to say?" he baits you.

"nope, nothing at all!"

two nights later, he's already nearing the end of the story and you refrain from commenting about how quickly he's made his way through.

you doubt he'd allow your current position if you had— you're laying on your side, your head resting comfortably in his lap, one hand occupying the space above his knee.

when you asked if it was okay, all he offered you was a clipped, "i suppose."

your hair is splayed across his thigh and your eyes fluttered shut a while ago. when he agreed to this, he didn't realize how distracting it'd be. his gaze flickers between you and the words on the page with embarrassing frequency.

he's decided what you call cuddling is absolutely suffocating. how anyone could actually enjoy it, he's sure he'll never comprehend. he can hardly concentrate on the novel that's right in front of him—

"read to me, 'kuna," you mumble, interrupting his thoughts. it surprises him that you're still awake.

he scoffs. "what do i look like? your personal audiobook?"

"you didn't even know those existed until like a week ago," you laugh. "c'mon, pleaaaaaase."

he stays quiet for a few moments, so you're under the impression he may just ignore your request. as such, you're exceptionally pleased when his voice fills the otherwise still apartment.

you think the sound of his voice is comforting, an idea that would more than likely make him cringe, so you keep it to yourself. after all, you don't want him to stop.

at some point or another, he begins twirling a strand of your hair around his finger whenever he's not turning the page, an action that seems to take place without his noticing.

occasionally he'll pause to ask if you're even listening. it's an odd feeling that blossoms in his stomach when you assure, "mhmm. every word."

as he reaches the second to last chapter, he reads a line that makes you question whether your heart's stopped beating. you're not sure if it's because of the tone of his voice, the words he's imparting, or some mix thereof.

"no—no—jane; you must not go. no—i have touched you, heard you, felt the comfort of your presence—the sweetness of your consolation: i cannot give up these joys. i have little left in myself—I must have you. the world may laugh—may call me absurd, selfish—but it does not signify."

he stops reading, as if he too feels the sense of unease that's invaded the air. against your better judgement, you turn to look at him. his eyes are glued to the page, almost like they're avoiding you, and his jaw is tense.

"my very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame.”

when his gaze finally lands on you, his expression is almost pained. it's a strange contrast to the warm fondness you spot in his eyes.

you quickly push that thought away, however. whatever you believe you may have seen, you're probably just deluding yourself. you know you aren't his least favorite person, but surely he'd never feel even half of that sentiment toward you—

your breath catches in your throat when his hand reaches up, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. he still marvels at the fact you don't shy away from his touch, that you're usually the one to seek out contact with him.

perhaps the story is not as asinine as he expected it to be. rochester presumes jane will find him revolting, yet she still agrees to be with him, even after his selfishness has been made plain to her. after the sins of his past have caught up to him.

no, no, no.

to be so desperate for some woman's approval, or her devotion for that matter, is despicable. rochester's nothing less than foolish and sukuna isn't anything like him.

but you're certainly like jane, aren't you? fearless, passionate, and determined: all things he can't help but find endearing...

gods, what is this turmoil? it's making him feel pathetic and there isn't an emotion in the world he hates more—

you distract him from his internal monologue when your fingers wrap around his wrist and bring his knuckles to your lips. "you okay?"

"of course," he mutters, pulling his hand away. "just trying to get past all the mawkishness."

"really? you think it's that bad?" you question, the frown on your lips igniting that ache in his chest that appears whenever you're upset.

"it's not terrible," he sighs, realizing there may indeed be one thing he despises even more than feeling pathetic. "although i don't understand how jane is so taken with rochester."

you seem to ponder this for a moment before shrugging. "love is weird."

"what a clever analysis."

you slap his chest playfully. "oh, whatever. just keep going, you're almost finished!"

and you're right. he does reach the end of jane eyre that night, but not before you fall asleep on his lap. he closes the book, running a finger down the creased spine and setting it down carefully. it's obvious you've read it several times.

admittedly, he can see why, but he'd be caught dead before he'd ever tell you as much.

left alone with his thoughts, he considers the impossibility of jane and rochester: a charming, headstrong woman and a cruel, arrogant man.

leaning forward, he whispers your name to make certain you're asleep, then places a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"..sweet dreams."