#they all get to go in my body and only mine. my body renders them unusable and unsafe. i've permanently marked them.

[non-un-topo]

Any time some of that oil escapes my little puncture site there's a moment where I expect my body to suck it back in, like it's thirsty. Isn't it thirsty?

[gingersxng]

Dominate Me

Pairing: f!reader x Mingi

Genre: smut 18+

Summary: your boyfriend allows you to be in charge for one night but the urge to be the one in charge gets too strong when he instead ends up dominating you.

Notes: switch!reader, switch!Mingi ( Mingi’s a dom!), Mingi has a big dick! (OFC), handcuffs, dirty talk, pet names (big boy, horny boy, naughty boy, doll, my girl), blowjob, deep throating, reader is a tease, cowgirl, unprotected sex (DONT), cum cum cum, slight breeding kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, handjob, kissing, mating press, creampie, nasty nasty.

a/n: I’ll be answering more requests soon, I’m sorry for not being very good at that but I promise I’ll be better. Hopefully will write other members more too but being Mingi biased makes it hard to keep my hands off writing about him… I don’t even know if you guys enjoy these anymore??

Words: 1.4k

It was usually Mingi who played the dominant role in the bedroom and you would lie if you said you didn’t like it but you had a secret wish to flip the script and take control for once. And only for tonight, Mingi was willing to indulge you.

You prepared yourself, you put on his favourite new lingerie in dark red lace that he bought you for your 23rd birthday, your heart raced as you laid out the handcuffs on the bedside table, it was the only thing Mingi allowed. You wanted to give Mingi something special, a night where you would show him your dominant side that maybe would get him to change his mind, let you take control from time to time.

Mingi finally entered the bedroom, his tall, muscular frame filling the doorway. His dark damp hair and intense gaze sent a shiver down your spine, he really knew how to make you nervous but it wouldn’t stop you from doing this. He smirked, knowing what was about to unfold and allowed himself to be guided to the bed. You pushed him gently onto the soft mattress, he was scanning your delicate body. His eyes didn’t seem to let go of your soft tits, the push up bra worked as it was designed to.

You snapped him out of it and reminded him that you’re in charge, so it would be non of his perverted actions.

"Tonight, you're all mine," you whispered seductively, your voice laced with a newfound confidence. You straddled his waist and leaned in close capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. Mingi responded eagerly, his tongue dancing with yours as your mouths locked together. You could taste the desire in his kiss, a hunger that mirrored your own.

With deliberate movements, you trailed soft kisses down his neck, nipping gently at his sensitive skin. Mingi let out a low moan, his hands instinctively reaching for your tits but you gently pushed them away, reminding him yet again of your roles tonight.

"No touching, my horny boy," you teased, your breath was hot against his ear. "Tonight, I'm in charge."

You reached for the handcuffs, the cold metal contrasting with the heat of his skin. With a quick click, you secured his wrists together to the bedposts, rendering him helpless and at your mercy. Mingi's eyes widened with surprise and a hint of nervous excitement, his cock twitched in his boxers.

"Oh, you naughty boy, enjoying being restrained," you purred, running your fingers along his muscular arms. "Let's see how long you can last before begging for release." You traced your fingers down his chest, playing with the light dusting of hair that led to his happy trail. Your touch was feather-light, sending shivers of anticipation through his body. You kissed and nibbled your way down his torso, paying attention to every inch of his skin. Reaching the waistband of his boxers, you paused, teasing him by gently blowing on the bulge that was already straining against the fabric. Mingi squirmed, his dick throbbing with need. You giggled softly, enjoying the power you held over him.

With slow, deliberate movements, you pulled down his boxers, revealing his impressive erection. His dick stood tall and proud, thick veins pulsing with each heartbeat. You admired his cock, knowing the pleasure it could bring but tonight you wanted to tease and torment him first.

Leaning forward, you ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft, from base to tip, making him gasp and arch his back. You took your time, savoring the salty taste of his skin. Your mouth enveloped the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip making Mingi moan and buck his hips.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy" he groaned. You smiled around his length, taking him deeper down your throat. You sucked and bobbed your head, your wet mouth providing relentless pleasure. Mingi's breath quickened, his body tensed as he fought the urge to climax.

"Not yet, big boy" you whispered, releasing his cock with a pop. "I want you to last."

You dragged your fingers lightly down his enormous length and grabbed the base of his cock, you straddled his waist again, pulling your panties to the side you positioned his throbbing cock at your entrance. With a slow, deliberate motion, you sunk yourself down on his length, taking him deep inside your hot, wet pussy. Mingi's eyes rolled back as he felt her tightness envelop him.

"Fuck, you feel so good" he grunted, his hips thrusting upwards, seeking more contact.

You set the pace, rising and falling on his shaft, your pussy muscles squeezing and massaging his cock. Your breasts bounced with each movement and Mingi couldn’t keep his eyes off them. You leaned forward letting your nipples brush against his chest, teasing him more.

"You like it when I ride you, don't you?" You taunted, your voice was breathless. "Do you like being my personal fuck toy?"

Mingi could only nod, too focused on to not come. You increased your pace, your pussy gripping him tightly, riding him like you’ve never done before. Your hands grasped his broad shoulders, digging your nails into his skin as you neared your peak.

"Cum for me, big boy" you urged, "Fill me up with your kids”

Your dirty words were all it took to send Mingi over the edge. He arched his back, his cock twitching as he released a torrent of hot cum deep inside you. You cried out, your own orgasm crashing over you as you felt his warmth filling you up. You continued to jump up and down his cock to ride out your orgasm, his body tensed more and more with each move you did and he was almost about to burst for the second time.

You slowly got off him and he watched how his softened cock slid out of you, all covered in your mixed juices. “Fuuck”

Hovering over him you placed small kissed on his neck down to his chest, all the way back down to his pubic bone. Mingi let out a deep moan when you grabbed his cock and began to pump him, the blood rushed down his dick and in just a few seconds he was fully hard again. “You want me to fuck you again?” You looked at him through your lashes. “Just fuck my cock so I finally can get my hands on you” he begged.

You did as he wished, you placed yourself on his cock and gave it everything you had left to give. Rocking your hips back and forth, round and round and clenching around him hard. You made him cum for the second time tonight, you got off him to undo the cuffs.

Mingis wrists were red and sore, his breathing heavy. He caressed your body as you lied on top of him giving you kisses on your forehead, he told you what a great job you did but he had to get his ways with you before calling it a night.

He rolled you over swapping places with him so you were at the bottom, he quickly grabbed the handcuffs and tied your wrists to the bedpost. You were shocked but not surprised by his actions. “You couldn’t let me have this one night could you?” You snapped. Mingi traced his hand grabbing the hem of your panties, pulling them off you, he guided his cock to your entrance and swirled the tip around coating it with your arousal. “Of course I did, you got to dominate me but now it’s my turn to dominate you as always doll” he purred before shoving his cock all the way in your warm wet pussy. You swallowed a gasp when he hit your sweet spot, his cock rubbing all the right places inside you. “You love it when I fuck your tiny pussy with my big cock, don’t ya”

He grabbed the underside of your thighs, pulling your legs up trapping you in a mating press. It was all back to the ordinary, having Mingi’s fat cock plunging your tight cunt, breeding you full.

“Who’s in charge?” Mingi growled, your words were stuck in your throat and nothing came out. “I said who’s in charge!” He went rougher on you when you didn’t answer. His hard thrusts against your hips made you stutter your words. “Yo-you’re in-in charge mmm ah, you always fucks me the best”

The sheets were stained and sticky under you, so was your insides as Mingi creamed inside you yet again with a big load of cum.

“mmhh that’s my girl”

[unintentionalseductress]

Hear me out, hear me out for thirsty weekend kinks✋️ Abduction but with Xavier please 😩 (personally if it was me I'd let that alien take me to Uluru whenever he pleased, my bags are PACKED bae🤭)

-🤭

Hello blushy anon! Oh, I bet Uluru was beautiful, I hate that him and MC didn't get that ending.

Warnings: slight CNC, rough sex, kidnapping scenario

Abduction

--------

Your captor held you firmly slinging you over his shoulder as he carried you to God knows where. You're struggling, kicking your legs trying to get free but he's too strong. Panic grips you as you try to pull off the blindfold but fail as he pins your hands together rendering you useless.

You feel yourself deposited on a bed and immediately rip off the blindfold but the room is pitch black, curtains drawn over the windows to block out the streetlights. You turn to face your captor, a tall man based on the shadowy figure, and start to scoot back on the bed, trying to figure out an escape route. Noticing your attempt to escape he quickly pins you to the bed, laying his weight on you. As his lips come near your ear, his hot breath whispers, "It's pointless to struggle."

Your heart jolts as you recognize the voice and your body stills, waiting to see if he'll say more.

"You're mine now. Just keep quiet and take it."

You almost cry in relief as you hear his voice again and realize what's happening. The man's hands grab your blouse and you gasp as he rips it apart, buttons flying everywhere and landing with a clatter on the floor. He yanks your bra up, freeing your breasts and palming them roughly, his leg thrown over you to ensure you can't escape.

"That's why they say don't wander alone after dark. Never know who will pick up a sweet little thing like you." He nips your hardened bud, drawing a whimper of pain from you before harshly sucking it into his mouth. His free hand finds the fly of your pants and does them with ease, yanking your pants down.

You squirm at the motion, excited, but still with a small lick of fear. As he manages to pull off the garment, his hand moves lower and past the waistband of your panties, finding your hotly throbbing clit. Your folds are drenched from hearing his voice and the sense of danger in the room.

"Shameless little slut. Getting all wet for me when I practically stole you away. Like a bitch in heat." He rubs your clit in quick circling motions, drawing a moan from you. "Oh you like strange men touching you like a free for all huh? Then you should expect what's going to happen if you behave like this."

Two long fingers mercilessly enter your soaked cunt, brutally finger fucking the sensitive sponge of nerves inside your walls and you cry out, trying to still his hand from the onslaught of sharp pleasurable jolts rocking your body.

The intensity brings tears to your eyes. "Please...I can't like this..."

"Then you shouldn't have let me in. Too late. Now cum for me you pathetic whore." The combined effort on your clit and gspot leaves you sobbing as your orgasm hits, your body riding the fine line between gratification and overstimulation. His fingers withdraw, then are shoved into your mouth.

"Taste how needy you are. How desperately you needed something in your hole." Muffled by the digits in your throat, you can only lay back as the man shifts his weight onto you, then aligns his hard cock at your entrance. He slams into you, your shriek softened by the gag of his fingers as he sets a punishing pace, his cock brutally bottoming out each time, hitting your cervix as he fucks you.

He pulls out his fingers, the sound of skin slapping on skin filling the room as he growls. "Just slipped right in, no resistance. Not even trying to push me away or fight. Have you lost the will slut?"

You moan, unable to make out any of his features as he uses you. "Gonna give you a huge load. Because that's all you're good for. To hold my cum." His hips stutter then with a feral snarl, crash against yours as hot spurts of his sticky seed are emptied into your quivering channel.

You lay there, mind in a haze as you process everything that just happened and the man rolls off you to turn on the bedside lamp.

"Are you ok?" Xavier pulls you to him and cuddles you, stroking your back. "Was I too rough?"

"No it was just enough," you murmur back, settling against his sweaty chest.

"Are you sure? Does it hurt anywhere?"

"No. Just my muscles feel sore."

Xavier presses soft kisses all over your face, reassuring you. "I almost broke character there a few times."

You chuckle. "You did wonderfully."

He returns the smile and starts preparing for your aftercare.

[kozachenko]

Here's a digital sketch dump of some pose/anatomy practices and some 2hu doodles, I think from now on if I don't have any big final piece to post, I'll just post sketches I liked that I did digitally (might also reblog some drawings of mine that I want more people to see, maybe idk).

Artist's Notes:

Ok so after the recent Hifuu fanart I did, I've been hoping to experiment more with how I draw faces, how I render, as well as how I stylize things. In some of the earlier sketches I did, I had an idea for a pose that I wanted to try drawing, so I took a ref pic of myself doing said pose (the leaning one btw) and then did a sketch over top of it just to get an idea for the shapes, negative space, and silhouette. After that, I wanted to do some simpler breakdowns of the shapes so I can get better at simplifying the body (these ended up being the bottom right sketches in the post). I also did some experimenting with how to push certain parts of said sketches to create a different body type (via liquify and then a more refined version based on that sketch), as well as figuring out what makes a pose feel natural and not stiff. This was also a bit of a foreshortening practice just so I can get more confident with it, and I ended up using the arms from the liquified version for the coloured Zanmu sketch I did since I liked them so much (dw I'll get to that).

The next thing I wanted to try and draw was Hisami, mainly because.... I am very bad at drawing her in my style. Last time I drew her I made her look really creepy and spindly, and it is my headcanon now that she can switch between a more human, and more creepy look whenever she wants. I'm liking where the face is going a lot, might have to refine a few things about it in the future, but it's cute (I also made the blush purple which I think is what I'm gonna do with her face from now on). I also like how her hair in the sketch turned out a lot, but the outfit..... not as much... Ever since I started changing my style to something less cartoony, I've had a hard time drawing her outfit in my style. Especially the flower veil thing she has on, which, I did try to find a way to draw, but I ended up deleting that sketch because I didn't like it. I'm also not a fan of using the colour purple, like, pure purple, magentas are fine, indigos are fine, but not strict purple. I also have a hard time with drawing all the little pattern details on her dress. I also need to find a way to draw the flower veil in a way that looks good because everytime I try it ends up just looking off (very similar to whenever I try to draw Zanmu's blue spears). I think the only solution to this problem is to do what I normally do and make my own version of the outfit, but with adjustments to suit my style while still trying to keep core elements from the original design intact (like I do with Zanmu and Keiki, and yes I am going to get to that Zanmu drawing just gimme a minute).

Ok next up is Keiki, my favourite Touhou character who I haven't drawn since the beginning of the year. Since my style has changed a lot, I wanted to just do a face sketch of her to get a hang of drawing her again, and I..... really really like how it turned out! When I drew her eyes, I realized that a good way of keeping faces too same facey can be via varying the sizes of their pupils, so that's an idea I'm gonna keep in mind from now on. I had a lot of fun with her hair, I initially was gonna do it like how it is in the official art, but I ended up not liking it, so now I'm gonna draw Keiki with wavy heir like this because it's fun and it looks nice. I also included my base sketch for Keiki's face since I was initially struggling with drawing her bandanna, and in the coloured sketch I added some more detail into her hair.

Now to finally talk about the sketches for Zanmu. Good lord was I having a tough time with her face. I also did this sketch before I figured out how I wanted to draw hair, so that's why the rendering on her hair is different (I did this soon after the Hisami sketch actually). Since I changed my art style a lot, I had to find a way to translate her face from my more cartoony style to my more detailed style, so while the face shape, nose shape and mouth was fine, I was really struggling with the eyes. I did get somewhere eventually though, and I am super happy with how it turned out. I wanted to lean more towards the androgynous side of the gender presentation spectrum, mainly because I think that makes sense for her character. Also made sure to include the silver hairs and some wrinkles just to bring some signs of her aging into her face because those are just staple features of how I draw Zanmu at this point lol. You will also notice that I gave her some scars on the right side of her face, and that's because I am a Zanmu-with-scars truther, I fucking love it whenever I see someone give Zanmu visible scars like that it just adds so much omg (I also tried to put a wolf bite mark on her arm in the full body drawing but idk if it reads well). While you can argue that her not having scars sells the idea of her being this "powerful, untouchable mastermind who is impossible to defeat," I'd say that instead of those scars representing times she got injured, they represent everyone who has failed to defeat her.

As I was drawing Zanmu's face, I referenced my sketch of to help with contrasting their features since I made Keiki's face more traditionally feminine. I also didn't mention this in my commentary on Keiki's face because I wanted to save it for here, but giving Zanmu scars also plays into the fact that she used to be human, wheras Keiki doesn't have any scars because she's a god who doesn't follow the rules of normal human biology. Plus I'm thinking about the two of them interacting again (return of Zan/Keik??? (I'm a multishipper btw) maybe???) so drawing their faces together will definitely help me in the future if I wanna draw them together (again, maybe as a ship? I've kinda been ironing out the kinks in their potential interactions (romantic and non-romantic) for a while now so idk maybe expect that in the future lol).

And now for the full body drawing, when I was doing the face sketch I did this little snippet of an outfit, had a vision, and the made it into a reality. I'll admit, part of me was worried that it would end up looking too much like Yuugi's outfits in the spinoffs and mangas, but I feel like I made enough changes to differentiate them. I tried to keep a few of the major details in Zanmu's design (i.e. the red tassles and yellow lining on her shirt) while putting a new spin on it. I also dialed up the scars to 11 since without them the whole thing kinda looked incomplete. Also, while I could say that the leaves on her kimono are "a nod to the fact that technically she should be a tengu because back then people belived that corrupt monks would turn into tengu but no Zanmu is an oni and they're maple leaves because...tengu...ahahahaha" what really ended up happening was that I looked up clothing patterns from Sengoku era Japan, liked the leaves the most because the red picked up on the red from the rest of her design and just ran with it. I also always had the idea to put Zanmu in men's clothing from Sengoku era Japan and while the accurate thing to do would be to put her in a Buddhist's clothes from that era.... from a character standpoint, I don't think Zanmu is pious enough to strictly wear the proper monk uniform, and also since she's basically the king of Hell, she would probably dress herself like royalty from that era. TBH, I probably could've been a bit more historically accurate, but again, this was mainly for conceptual purposes because I had a vision and I needed to see it through.

If I were to draw her in this sort of outfit again, I should probably try and use more references, although now that I look at it, if she were to wear it properly this would maybe, probably look a bit closer to a Kyūtai sugata (a very huge stretch, but it just kinda reminds me of that) just without the layers under and over the main piece of clothing (In the website that I searched up to try and compare the outfit in my sketch to, they name the outfit pieces but don't label them on the image, so I don't know 100% what everything is called) so I will definitely have to use that style of clothing as a reference going forward.

Also, I was kind of inspired by the ToTK design for Ganondorf since I have finished the game a while ago and I absolutely love what they did with his design (it's just so fucking cool omg) and I thought that sort of look would look good on Zanmu, so yeah got some inspo from that.

And those were all the notes for each of the sketches, I'm motivated to draw rn but kinda art blocked, so doing these little coloured sketches helps a lot.

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #9: OBJECT OF AFFECTION

(also on spotify!)

O, wayward soul, I beg of thee an ear; Companionship, a Constant of desire, is all too fleeting. Would thee quell this fire? My love, do you know what you want to hear?

Welcome back to the Constant Companions Closeups - a series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Yesterday was some gay shit (Liaison) and today is some more gay shit (Object of Affection)

---

I'm usually pretty good about letting go of the things I make and letting them live imperfectly, but there is exactly one released song of mine that I've ever been actively unhappy with the final product of, that I haven't been able to let go of my displeasure with.

Honor Majesty, off of Autumn Every Day.

It's not that it's a bad song, or that it didn't have good ideas! In fact, I genuinely think it shares more with the music I make now than a lot of my older work does. Rather, it was incredibly rushed and full of uninspired choices I made for the sake of completing the song rather than making it the best version of itself, and it ultimately ended up falling incredibly flat relative to what I wanted it to be!

I really like the intersection of synthpop/electropop and fantasy. One of my favorite musicians ever is Baths, whose album Romaplasm is chock full of this exact thematic and sonic intersection, and it's so deeply inspiring to me that it still gets put on whenever I want to dream things up. I've always wanted to make things like that! Bubbly and fantastical, brimming with a sense of magic so pervasive it makes even the mundane seem mystic.

...Also I'm just a fantasy dork okay. I like wizards and shit. Sue me

I've been wanting to make a grandiose and fantastical story song for years, and my single attempt to do so felt like it missed the mark entirely. I did touch on fantasy a couple times on Bittersweet, but ultimately, when I started working on this album, I knew exactly what I wanted to take a second crack at.

---

The intended story in question here is fairly vague, but to sum it up as literally as possible:

A rebellious, disobedient, gender-questioning prince has mildly inconvenienced "his" royal lineage one too many times. Their solution is to invoke magicks widely regarded as heretical - what's a fantasy monarchy without some hypocrisy - to seal their "son's" soul within an automaton body, rendering "him" a perfect, subservient doll.

This doll is promptly spirited away under cover of darkness by a mage, and is granted free will once again. She experiences the crushing weight of newfound self-awareness and nearly spirals out of control, before realizing the mage who saved her is the same - a doll. It turns out being a magical-mechanical construct has its perks if you are TRANSGENDER. then they overthrow the monarchy and fuck nasty or whatever idk this is where the story gives way to things like "metaphor"

this is a song about artifice and being transgender

Seriously, though, I know that being an electronic-music-producing transgender lesbian with a thing about dolls or robots or whatever is a major endless-store-shelves-of-identical-buzz-lightyear-action-figures moment on my part, but dammit, I own a copy of Logic Pro and a genuine leather wizard hat, I inject estrogen into my stomach fat every Wednesday, and I think ball joints are cute. I'm posting this on Tumblr, for gods sake, I am unconcerned as an active choice

---

With the exception of Liaison, the entirety of Constant Companions utilizes only three unique vocal synth characters - ANRI, Gumi, and Teto. This trifecta was born organically from simply being the vocal synths I enjoy using the most, and in this song, I wanted to use all three of them almost like one single singer, freely shifting intonation based on the context. I messed with this idea before on Ballroom, my voice meshing and melting into Gumi V3's voice, but it felt especially appropriate for this context; Plus, I feel like there aren't a lot of examples of vocal synths being used/recontextualized in this way, and that's a shame in my opinion!!

I really want to do more story-driven songwriting like this in the future as well. Now that I'm a bonafide VocaloP I've been floating the idea of doing a song series with this trio... I'm mostly just worried I'll want to get too ambitious with it.

Off the top of my head, Object of Affection references at least eight other songs of mine - Honor Majesty is an obvious one, but it also directly samples parts of Autumn Every Day, and lyrically references genuinely just a bunch of things. I'm probably forgetting some, even!

I know I'm the Leitmotif Lover, but it's a lot even by my standards. However, this song's entire existence already served to satisfy a fairly self-indulgent desire, and these days, I don't deal in half measures. I think the final product serves as a lovely little look back at where I've come from, though, and perhaps even a little glimpse into the future!

That all being said, Object of Affection in some sense is also a love letter to a beloved part of my creative process - the voice memo. A lot of the audio I've provided with these posts have been recordings off my phone for good reason! Not only are the chops at the beginning of the song entirely comprised of edited recordings I got on my phone, but the sample at the very end happens to be from a particularly legendary recording, never before heard by the public...

Until now. I present to you an excerpt from "the worst beat on planet earth", featuring none other than unit.0.

That's about it for today!! If you have any questions, I'll gladly answer them below, but otherwise, I'll be back here tomorrow to talk about this album's title track laid askew - My Darling, My Companion!

[valenteal]

The reason why the story of the Todoroki family in mha is simultaneously surprising, original, and completely unsatisfying has become obvious to me after reading one essay by Joseph Campbell. Honestly every writer should read his works or at least an overview of them. That way they can avoid making mistakes like this.

One of the things Campbell is best known for is his breakdown of all the recurring patterns that are inherent to mythology and story telling across all human cultures. The character archetypes, the story structure, the themes that are always present. This doesn’t mean the stories are unoriginal, it means that the ideas and themes behind them are so intrinsic to human culture that they can never be destroyed or created as long as humanity continues. There’s immense beauty and value in understanding these archetypes and what they say about humanity as a whole.

The story of the Todoroki family was set up perfectly to fit one of these archetypes. The tale of the tyrant-monster who is toppled by the hero, a product of his own selfish desires poisoning his domain, who has defeated the demons of their culture and their psyche to become a pure representation of human nature at its best. (This is heavily paraphrased and Campbell talks fancy so others may have differing interpretations but I don’t want to go get the book rn to quote it). Edit: got the book in front of me, here’s the quote,

The figure of the tyrant-monster is known to mythologies, folk traditions, legends, and even nightmares of the world; and his characteristics are everywhere essentially the same. He is the hoarder of the general benefit. He is the monster avid for the greedy rights of “my and mine.” The havoc wrought by him is described in mythology and fairy tale as being universal throughout his domain. This may be no more than his household, his own tortured psyche, or the lives that he blights with the touch of his friendship and assistance; or it may amount to the extent of his civilization. The inflated ego of the tyrant is a curse to himself and his world—no matter how his affairs may seem to prosper. Self-terrorized, fear-haunted, alert at every hand to meet and battle back the anticipated aggression of his environment, which are primarily the reflections of the uncontrollable impulses to acquisition within himself, the giant of self-achieved independence is the world’s messenger of disaster, even though, in his mind, he may entertain himself with humane intentions. Where ever he sets his hand there is a cry (if not from the housetops, then—more miserably—within every heart): a cry for the redeeming hero, the carrier of the shining blade, whose blow, whose touch, whose whole existence, will liberate the land.

…

The hero is a man of self-achieved submission. But submission to what? That precisely is the riddle that today we have to ask ourselves and that it is everywhere the primary virtue and historic deed of the hero to have to have solved. As Professor Arnold J. Toynbee indicates in his six-volume study of the laws of the rise and disintegration of civilizations, schism in the soul, schism in the body social, will not be resolved by any scheme of return to the good old days (archaism), or by programs guaranteed to render an ideal projected future (futurism), or even by realistic, hardheaded work to weld together again the deteriorating elements. Only birth can conquer death—the birth not of an old thing again, but of something new. Within the soul, within the body social, there must be—if we are to experience long survival— a continuous “recurrence of birth” (palingenesia) to nullify the unremitting recurrences of death. For it is by means of our own victories, if we are not regenerated, that the work of Nemesis is wrought: doom breaks from the shell of our very virtue. Peace then is a snare; war is a snare; change is a snare; permanence a snare. When our day is come for the victory of death, death closes in; there is nothing we can do, except be crucified—and resurrected; dismembered totally, and then reborn.

Theseus, the hero-slayer of the Minotaur, entered Crete from without, as the symbol and arm of the rising civilization of the Greeks. That was the new and living thing. But it is possible also for the principle of regeneration to be sought and found within the very walls of the tyrant’s empire itself. Professor Toynbee uses the terms “detachment” and “transfiguration” to describe the crisis by which the higher spiritual dimension is attained that makes possible the resumption of the work of creation. The first step, detachment or withdrawal, consists of a radical transfer of emphasis from the external to the internal world, macro- to microcosm, a retreat from the desperations of the wasteland to the peace of the everlasting realm that is within. But this realm, as we know from psychoanalysis, is precisely the infantile unconscious. It the realm we enter in sleep. We carry it within ourselves forever. All the ogres and secret helpers of our nursery are there, all the magic of our childhood. And more important, all the life-potentialities that we never imagined to bring to adult realization, those other portions of ourself, are there; for such golden seeds do not die. If only a portion of that lost totality could be dredged up into the light of day, we should experience a marvelous expansion of our powers, a vivid renewal of life. We should tower in stature. Moreover, if we could dredge up something forgotten not only only by ourselves but by our whole generation or our entire civilization, we should become indeed the boon-bringer, the culture hero of the day—a personage of not only local but world historical moment. In a word: the first work of the hero is to retreat from the world scene of secondary effects to those causal zones of the psyche where the difficulties really reside, and there to clarify the difficulties, eradicate them in his own case (i.e. give battle to the nursery demons of his local culture) and break through to the undistorted, direct experience and assimilation of what C. J. Jung has called “the archetypal images.”

…

The hero, therefore, is the man or woman who has been able to battle past his personal and local historical limitations to the generally valid, normal human forms. Such a one’s visions, ideas, and inspirations come pristine from the primary springs of human life and thought. Hence they are eloquent, not of the present, disintegrating society and psyche, but of the unquenched source through which society is reborn. The hero has died a modern man; but as eternal man—perfected, unspecific, universal man— he has been reborn. His second solemn task and deed therefore (as Toynbee declares and as all the mythologies of mankind indicate) is to return then to us, transfigured, and teach the lesson he has learned of life renewed.

Both Shouto and Dabi were being set up as potential heroes to defeat Endeavors tyranny. It wasn’t until season 5 or 6 that we see the dramatic change in direction that the story takes, with Endeavor getting a redemption arc and Dabi being legitimately unhinged and evil. Now, this could be considered a plot twist or whatever, if it is it’s a really bad one, or it could be that Horikoshi literally changed his plan part way through the series. I personally think it’s the second. Whether that was because of pressure from editors, a desire to surprise fans who’d guessed where it was heading, or because he just decided he liked it better I don’t know. What I do know is that is was a mistake, one that went hand in hand with about a million other mistakes that are basically the same situation of the story completely changing direction halfway through. It ruined the series and it wasted an opportunity to tell an important story that could really resonate with people.

Instead of the ever satisfying tale of evil dictators getting what’s coming to them because of their own mistakes, we got a halfhearted redemption, a lot of victim blaming, reinforced widespread societal prejudice, undone character development, and a shit ton of heartbreak.

And I don’t understand why! It was set up so perfectly! It had so much potential! It looked like it was going to be incredibly cathartic, a story about how people are flawed and imperfect and expecting more ruins society. It looked like it was going to be about a toxic culture actually being changed! And then it wasn’t!

If it was an attempt to be original it failed spectacularly. If it was an attempt to be depressingly realistic it was a complete success, which I suppose is saying something given the nature of the series and its completely insane premise but I digress.

My point is, recurring themes and stories exist for a reason, they are important, and going against them so completely will never leave the audience satisfied. We crave these familiar stories, we need them. Mha made us expect to get one, left people on the edge of their seats for years waiting for the catharsis of it. And then we didn’t get it. Think queer baiting but with the psychological effects of stories.

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 22﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Gojo Satoru x F!Reader -> Daddy Kink

A/N: I am fucking screaming I dunno why I made this soo fluffy!!! *Pulls all my hair out* 🥹😩😩 I love this man I love this man I LOVE THIS MAN!! 🦋🩵🩵

Summary: Good ol’ waking next to Satoru over the weekend & him being obsessed with making love to you & him being obsessed with you <3

Warnings: Reader addresses him as ‘Daddy’, he also uses third person pronouns, nipple-play, missonary, breeding undertones, FLUFF!

The calm undertones of the weekend laid down your anxieties and your everyday hustle and bustle into slumber. Oh how good it feels to sleep in, to have your titan personified husband wrap his bounder like leg around you, rendering you immobile. You couldn’t possibly budge with the way Satoru’s hands are wrapped below your breasts and how he’s snuggling to his little spoon — you.

You, however, have other plans. You’re tired of sleeping in now, body demanding some movement & in an eager brawl to freshen up. Satoru seems still peacefully lulled by slumber. You’d almost feel bad waking him up… but, hey! You want to pee!

“Satoru! Good morning.” You started slow, leaning in against him, kissing his forehead, kissing his cheek. “Good morning, Daddy.” You repeated, and your ethereal, god-alike looking & power holding man stirred, brows furrowed. “Mm, morning Little one.” He cooes, pulling you closer & plush against his chest. Oh he smells divine—

“Let me go.” You chuckled, biting your lip and ruffling his hair. “Gotta freshen up, then I promise I’d be back.” You baited him, while he only responded with a groan, not in any mood of letting you go.

“Satoru, I want to leave I need to freh-shen up.” You cackled when he leaned in even more, oh if he could he’d possibly get physically under your skin. Satoru Gojo is the God of clinginess. After a few minutes of you pleading, playfully threatening & begging again… he let you go.

You didn’t take much time, but when you returned, there was your favorite iced-coffee placed on the bedside table. Satoru dressed in his grey joggers, shirtless, and also looking awake. “Good morning Princess.” He beamed with a tender smile.

Strides covering the distance between you two, he pulled you closer by your wrist, letting you collide against his muscular chest, leaning in adorably so — thanks to the height difference and kissing you softly. His lips wrapped around yours, a relaxed, tranquil humming echoing in the room.

When your lips parted, a string of saliva connecting them, Satoru leaned in, whispering. “How about some good ol’ morning sex?” You blinked, biting your lip at the bombshell of the offer. “Mhm,” you hummed your approval, and Satoru happily grinned, mirroring a small kid when given his favorite candy.

His hand wrapped around your throat, pressing the sides of it carefully, just enough to make you a little dizzy from the stopped blood flow. “Good girl, good little girl.” He praised, letting you lay down on the plush mattress on your back. Satoru was tender to you, both verbally and physically. However, not to your clothes. The sound of fabric ripping greeted your ears, impatience— after all.

You palmed his crotch, looking at him doe-eyed. “I love you, Daddy.”

“Gosh I love you too, Princess.” He blushes like a highschooler, leaning in and suckling onto your nipples, perking them up, while the other one was given attention by his hands.

You gasped, once the touch was registered by your body, the familiar touch of your lover seeping right through your core. “Mm…” you hummed, whimpering out and grinding against him for more.

“Such a greedy, greedy little girl.” Satoru teased, while you responded with batted lashes. “All for you Daddy.”

His fingers dipped into your inviting cunt; the ache soothing into pleasure when he began moving, giving your breasts much needed love. A little aggressive sometimes as he laid hickeys onto your under boob. “Mine, all mine.” A carnal groan reminded you of the intensity of his feelings, while you nodded. “All yours, always.” You soothed his rising catastrophe of claiming you.

“I want you, so bad!” You whimpered in need, clamping around his fingers. Satoru smiled, nodding. “Of course Cupcake, I belong to you and I’m gonna give it to you.” Satoru hummed, as if you also, owned him in the same animalistic way he deems ownership over you. It was cathartic.

Spreading your pussy lips, feeling his cock-head and leaky tip mingle with your essence, Satoru thrusted himself inside you, groaning at the feeling of your juices lubricating his cock. “Such- a- warm cunt. Perfect for knocking you up.” Satoru’s words poured out absolute filth, and you whimpered at them.

His thrusts began, hands intertwined with yours, leaning in kissing your lips, kissing your collarbone, marking you with hickeys & watching you squirm under the pressure of his weight & his drilling into your perfect pussy.

“Ah- hmm. Gonna- cum.” You whimpered, moaning out and twitching inside. Satoru was close too, heavy panting echoing throughout the shared bedroom. “You better, cause Daddy’s close too.” Oh it drives you off the edge when he refers to himself in third-person. Satoru’s tactic of regressing you is referring to himself in third person— and it works brilliantly.

‘Let Daddy handle it.’

‘Oh no you’re too little to be doing that, let Daddy take care of that’

‘Do you think it’s fair to Daddy when you brat?’

‘Why do you think Daddy’s being mean?’

‘Daddy loves it Princess’

You tipped off the edge, wrecked and shaky like a dried leaf with your brutal orgasm, feeling the waves of pleasure through the very soles of your feet. Satoru’s thrusts were also sloppy, needy & eventually he was defeated by his own high, convulsing inside you & painting your warmth with his seed.

“Don’t let any of it escape or Daddy’ll be testy.” He raised a brow, leaning in and kissing your forehead deeply. You nodded like a bobble-head, too dumbed down by the orgasm & regressed in the safety of your lover.

“Good little Princess.”

[n0t-evenhere]

Here is that Jacob Alden fix that’s just been marinating in my brain space. I couldn’t quite figure out how I wanted it to end so if the ending is wonky…forgive me. Other than that enjoy this little thing I promised you. (Even though I didnt receive any hip surgery memes 😔) a sucky drawing at the end too.

My heart

Warning: creepy stuff, bones go crunch, flesh gets torn, obsessive behavior, and terrible sleep.

The mattress was perfect, warm, so good your body couldn’t move nor did it want to. Well, your body felt heavy, was the better term, you thought. Soft thudding made your eyes open, the space between wakefulness and sleep shifted to complete awareness. Your eyes wander to the corner of your room. A silhouette. Light that peaked through the crack from the window curtain reflected off the silhouettes glasses. After the short moment of your eyes adjusting to the darkness, there was familiarity in the person. An unsettling familiarity that makes you feel increasingly uneasy. “Jacob?” You whispered quietly, almost afraid that with the broken silence he’d pounce. The shadow smiled, a grin wide that showed all teeth. “Yes?” He replied softly.

That made your mind fill up with questions but even with effort you couldn’t verbalize, they just mingled on the tip of your tongue . “I hope you don’t mind.” His slow southern voice remained soft as he stood to you. “I just…needed to feel it.” Your body still remains immobile, the heart in your chest picks up speed as Jacob waltzes over to the left side of the bed. “I can hear it from here.” Climbing onto the bed, her crawling over to you, straddling you. Even with his weight on you, you couldn't feel it. Sat there before leaning down face to face with his hands resting beside your head. “Yes…” He sighed, face flushed, he sat back up his hand moving to push back his hair while the other covered his mouth for a moment before he moved it and licked his lips. “It’s so beautiful. Just for me.” Jacob’s hand came to rest on your chest, just between the valley of your breast. “There it is. Beatin’. Just fer me. Ya know….this belongs to me right.” His eyes lock on to yours, excitement practically spilling out of them. “I can prove it. No one can reach your heart like I can.”

Pressure began to radiate heat on the flesh where his palm touched. Pressure quickly turned to pain. Throwing your body out of its immobilized state. You flailed and thrashed, trying to push him off. He seemed unaffected and determined to continue. A new sound filled the space, the sound of flesh ripping that quickly turned into the sound of bones cracking and breaking as Jacob’s hand sank further. You scream but everything goes dead quiet except for the sound of ringing that wouldn’t stop. His hand sank deeper, your body reacting, body feeling as if it were engulfed in flames. He continued until you felt it…he felt it. He held your heart in his hand. Jacob gave it a squeeze rendering you numb again. All your limbs are lying still on the bed. He leaned down. “See, it beats just fer me. You don’t know it yet but, you are mine. Always will be.”

Your body jolts up, your skin drenched in sweat along with the sheets. It took you a few moments to recover from the absolute horrid dream you just had. You’ve heard people talk about fantasy dreams but this? Whatever it was you just dreamed felt like you just lived someone else’s fantasy. That or it felt like a warning of some sort. You’ve always been a vivid dreamer, never forget your dreams. After coming to a more calm state of mind you had an answer for your problem. A shower, a shower would fix this. Definitely needed it anyway.

Moving her wasn’t a bad choice. A nice house for one, a park, nice neighbors. The only things you weren’t too sure about were one, the mail man named Austin. He acted more like a frat boy Chad then an Austin. He probably just peaked in highschool and now he thinks he’s still some prize. The second thing was now your neighbor to your left. Jacob. He was kind, often giving you your misplaced mail and other things like cookies. Nice and a little awkward. A complete contrast to that horrific dream you had. Confliction was what you felt, Jacob was nice so it was just odd. With a sigh it was shower time but you wanted to check your phone first. 6:48. The time where even if you showered or not you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep knowing it’s so close to morning time. Too early to wake up, too late to sleep. That shower would help with the crankiness too.

The warm water cascaded down you head, back and to your shower floor. Hair becomes heavy with water. The shower took a good twenty minutes. A new hair care routine that you are still trying to get a hold on. Shaving and all that. After the hot shower and motioning to prevent dry skin you tried to read a book in your decently sized living room. That lasted five minutes. Tv? Ten minutes, drawing? Not even three. Restless sleep is bad enough but restless wakefulness is a whole other level of frustration. Looking at your phone reads 7:26 am. A moment of consideration brought you to the decision to do something new. Go for a morning jog. Throwing on some comfy clothing and tossing your hair up, you just went for it. The park nearby was enticing enough.

Making it to the door and opening it you yelp. Jacob stood there wide eyed, face dusted with deep red, his body tense. “Oh, my lanta.” You said as you held your hand over your beating heart. “I’m uh, I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean nothin’. No harm. I just was up early and made food. Made extra and thought you might want some.” She paused, “not that I knew you were up or anything like that. I just was gonna leave it here but then you just kinda…you know…showed up.” Jacob held the small dish to you. You couldn’t see what was inside but you took it anyway. “Oh, thank you Jacob. Very sweet of you.” He smiled warmly. “No problem, I just you know, did my thing that I do.” You look at him not quite sure what that meant by that. He seems embarrassed again, as if he just gave something away that he wasn’t supposed to. Like some kind of secret. “Ah, well. Anyway, I’ll see ya around. Enjoy breakfast. If you need me you know where to find me.” Jacob quickly retreated back to his home. Breakfast seemed like a better start to your day. Jacob made any doubts and questions you had disappeared . It was just a dream anyway. It’s not like he was some psychopath who was obsessed with you….

[theunaveragepsychoticbitch]

Drunker, But Still In Love

[A rewrite of an old fav of mine. Human Barbatos, dirty talk, creampie, multiple orgasms, friends to lovers, drunk sex lol, masturbation, dubious consent since reader's a fair bit more sober, AFAB Barbs, AMAB Reader. Enjoy]

You were no stranger to peering down the necks of empty bottles with Barbatos, hours lost to liquor and smokes as you talked about everything and nothing at all. You'd known him years, knew him like the back of of your hand, so you never thought there'd come a day when he surprises you.

Yet, as he sips from his wine glass, simultaneously reaching for the bottle again, you begin to think the day was finally upon you.

Right before he reaches it, you snatch it out of range, having to catch both the bottle and your jaw when he whines.

Whines. The Barbatos, your Barbatos, whining. Hell must be getting snow right now.

"What...?" You've effectively been rendered speechless.

Setting the glass down, he pouts. Was God okay? Can somebody check on him? How do you call an ambulance for heaven?

"[Name]..." Your name slips from his lips like a snake in the grass, a myriad of emotions fitted into so many little letters. "Pleaseee... Can I have it back?"

Wobbly as he is, he barely manages to lean towards you without nearly tumbling off the couch. You grab his shirt, yanking him to safety only to have his limp form crash into you. You drop the bottle, but luckily, it doesn't break. Unluckily, however, you may not be able to say the same for your friend's nose.

"Barbatos? Are you okay? What is up with you?"

"[Name], please... Just give it back. I won't do it again."

Gods, you are way out of your element here. It only worsens when his fingers, so weak and trembly, grasp your thin T-shirt in a show of drunken strength, the holds leverage for him to lift himself up till he's nose-to-nose with you.

Well, it's definitely not broken, at least.

"Barbatos, I don't know what you're talking about, but I definitely think you've had enough."

"Is it because of the way I look at you?"

You stop, both eyebrows rising in shock before one drops in confusion. He continues, tears beginning to flow and obscure cloudy emerald-green eyes.

"I'm sorry. It's not my fault. I want you so bad and every time you look at me my heart jumps and every time we hold hands I wonder how they'd feel anywhere, everywhere else on my body." He sniffs, his eyebrows scrunch in what is soon revealed to be frustration.

"But you. You never noticed anything. You go on and on, every week, a new lover this, a crazy ex that. You've made your way around every "friend" I've ever seen you have, but you won't so much as kiss me on a dare!"

Ho. Ly. Shit. He was talking about last week, when the two of you once again engaged in the habit of destroying your liver, but with a bit more company. A game of truth or dare had started up, one that got dirty quick. Soon, you'd chosen dare, and the decree had been passed: Kiss Barbatos on the lips.

They didn't ask for tongue, or give a time limit. A simple peck would have sufficed. But as the hopeful green-eyed man turned towards you, he found you shaking your head, waving your hand, laughing like such a thing was utter nonsense.

"No can do, Barbie's my best friend. Nothing more."

Nothing more. Such damning words. He didn't need to fake sick after you said them; his stomach turned with regret and self pity immediately, and he spent the rest of the night home alone, seemingly molded to the bed. Every day with you has felt like hell since then, a quiet, unseen one of his own creation. Yet, he craved your touch more than ever now. It was driving him insane. It drove him here.

"[Name], please. I'm begging you. Let me drown my sorrows. I don't want to love you any more."

Despite the many other revelations tonight, you still somehow had the capacity to be surprised. He loves you. Barbatos, your sweetest, dearest, bestest friend, loves you.

"Barbatos... I, I don't know what to say."

He sniffs again, and instinctively, you cup his face, wiping his tears and searching for a napkin for his nose. You find one, stained with grease from the pizza box, but intact. He blows his nose as you pet his hair, before tossing it to makeshift trash bag you've set up.

"Every time you describe what you do with randoms, I wish it was me."

"Barbie, why don't you slow down and tell me about this when you're sober? This is a lot to take in–"

"I want to 'take in' you." There it was, that pout again, paired with a sassiness you know well. He looks adorable, his eyes nearly closed under the weight of the lids, his face so flushed that with the green hair, there were a number of fruits you could call him. His eyes were still a bit watery, but he wipes them on his own this time, continuing.

"I wanna feel you bad. I want you on top of me, holding my legs however you wish as you split me in two. I wanna be chest-to-chest, your hands on my hips helping me ride you. I want you on every inch of my skin, in the bed, on the wall in the kitchen on the couch. Just fuck me."

His hands roam his own body, roughly palming his chest until his nipples peak through his shirt, his fingers twisting and pinching the peaks as he cries about his fantasies.

"I touch myself to you every night."

Fuck. What an erotic confession. "I stuff myself full looking for the stretch you'd give me, but it's not enough. It's never enough. I can't cum off it, no matter how hard I try and pretend it's you there, fucking me senseless, whispering lusty nonsense in my ear. I can't even do hook ups, because they'll never be you. All I want is you, even if you'll only have me tonight, even if I'm sloppy and drunk and desperate." His voice is frustrated and breathy, his face contorting as the anger at how badly his body needs you meets the pleasure his own fingers give him.

"It's not the same..." He sighs defeatedly, seemingly referring to his own touch compared to how he imagined yours.

Your breath hasn't come in at a steady pace for a while now. His monologue was a summoned imagery of a long list of filthy acts done with you in mind, the confession of lust like something you'd read about in a book. He was stripping himself, his shirt tossed to the floor, his pants bunched around his thighs as his pussy, covered by only a tuft of green hair, was spread wide by his own fingers. Right where you could see it.

Already he was sopping wet, clear arousal dripping onto the couch as the lewd squish of his fingers entering his hole met your ears. Somehow, he'd gotten even redder, and now the blush had spread down his neck and chest, reaching for his navel.

"[Nameeeee]." He called, nuzzling into your chest.

"Don't you want to feel me too? I promise I feel good. I'll make you feel so good. You'll never need anyone else ever again. I promise. Fuck me, Hon."

The calm, collected, and careful Barbatos was no more. In his place, a desperate slut who needed your cock to save his life. You've never treated him the way you treated others, out of respect for your friendship. You didn't keep him around for sex, or for partying. He was one of the few genuine connections you had, and more than anything, more than you wanted to touch and taste and feel him, you wanted him to be happy.

You thought that you'd been keeping him happy. But if he'd find the most joy in a night with you, no, a life with you, you'd give him all of yours in a heartbeat.

In a flurry of movement, his back hits the couch. His fingers leave his cunt with a wet pop as you make quick work of his bottoms, spreading his legs wide so you can fit yourself between them.

"Really?" His eyes are wide, a wobbly smile growing on his features. "You'll do it? You'll do me?"

Your eyes narrow as you pull him impossibly closer, your clothed boner resting on his bare cunt. "I'll do anything you want to you, Barbatos. Ask, and you shall receive."

Your voice is deep and raunchy, something blatantly primal coming over you. You were the predator, and he was prey, all too eager to jump into your maw, to feel your teeth pierce skin and muscle and bone as you devour him whole.

How didn't you realize it before? You were the predator, but it was he who was starving.

"I want you to cum inside me. I'll take it all, every drop you give me."

You needed no further persuading. Two sets of hands work to relieve you of your clothes, and then, blessedly, you're skin to skin. Barbatos can feel himself overheating, his heartbeat like a drum in his ears. There's no way this was really happening. In a few moments, you'd put it in, and in his excitement he'd wake himself up, only to be covered in his own cum and drenched in sweat.

Your pants hit the floor, and finally, his savior was freed. Your cock stood proud, a bead of precum on the tip. It was just like he imagined: heavy, with a thick odor that made his mouth water and prominent veins all along the underside. As he stared at it longer, he blushed. It was the exact color he'd imagined too.

You pressed the tip to his entrance, but he stopped you. "Wait! I, um, can I..."

This sudden bout of bashfulness threw you more off guard than anything else he'd done tonight. He takes a second to build his courage before meeting your gaze. "Can I put it in?"

You would have fucked him long ago if you knew it'd be this hot. The perfect mix of shy and slutty, saying such dirty things while looking at you like that.

You don't even respond, simply allow him to straddle your lap, taking your length in hand pressing it back to his entrance. "May I ask one more thing?"

"Anything in the world, Barbatos."

"Will you kiss me?"

'Of course'

You don't say it, rather, you let your actions speak for you. You take him by the cheek, bringing him in for a kiss as he takes you all in one go, the slap of skin as he sits on your dick making you throb.

Twin moans morph and mix in your mouths, passion making you sloppy as he sets an unforgiving pace for himself. Your hands find his hips, but he doesn't need any help, pure instinct carrying him farther than you could ever go.

"Baby, fuck, slow down!" You choke past your gasps, each slam of his hips stealing your breath away. He's gone in the head, his eyes glazed over as the grip on your shoulders gets tighter and tighter, his blunt nails still managing to stab you as he chases the climax he's been denied for months now.

It starts as drunken nonsense between sharp breaths, but soon, he's chanting your name, spewing your praises like a man spared a pain.

"I feel good, right? Tell me you love me. Tell me you'll stay here and fuck me forever baby." If you didn't know any better, you'd say his pupils were little hearts right now.

"Can you feel how bad I need you? Every second you're not inside me is hell, and every second you are is paradise. My pussy has your name on it, forever, till the end of time. Please, fill it up, mark it as yours. Cum inside me baby."

You obey the wicked temptress that'd taken over your (typically far more docile) bestie's body, capturing his hips at the deepest point, ensuring that he feels you in the farthest parts of him. You cum, your mind going blank as he clenches down, squealing from somewhere far away. The hypnotic pulse of his walls as he cums drags your seed deeper, your dick being hugged so tightly his cunt would surely remember the shape.

You release him, and to your horror, he's up again, slamming his body back down onto your sensitive cock. The sounds you make are raw and filter-less, the sweet pain of overstimulation making you shake. Barbatos is in no better shape; he's too sensitive to maintain the pace he had before, but too greedy to come to a stop. He wants you, more of you, all of you.

Through your daze, you hear him, feel fat tear droplets begin to pepper your abdomen. "No, no, nooo.... Not yet... I'm not ready yet." His sobs are so sweet, so innocent compared to the greedy, leaky cunt the words stemmed from. Even as he cried, he rode you, his pussy bright red from the self-inflicted beating.

Fuck. How the hell did he manage to hide this from you for so long? How the hell did you not notice?!

A bout of Herculean strength switches your positions, his back once again landing on the couch. You don't give him time to breathe, ravaging his remains like the starved man you are. He wanted you to mark him, to make him yours, and you'd do so.

His screams were music to your ears, pleas for mercy and more blending until they were mere babbles. His nails raked down your back, clawed at whatever they could find as his walls spasmed, the stimulation just too much for one man. You cup his neck, pulling him into your lap and capturing him in a kiss as you begin to bounce him, using his body weight against him. Your other hand releases his waist, leaving his two trembling arms to support his wait as you begin another attack on his clit.

As expected, he crumbles. Three quick circles and he's convulsing, his arms failing him as he collapses partially onto the chair arm, partially into your lap. Once again, the pull of his pussy as he cums is too much for you, and you fill him up again, the feeling of your own cum leaking out of him, dripping down your shaft onto the ruined chair below almost enough to entice you into another round.

Poor Barbatos. He's half conscious, babbling thank you's. You rest your head on his shoulder, tuning him out until you had enough strength to pull out.

It took a while, but you did. His walls fluttered awake, clenching weakly as though they truly couldn't bare to see you go. You escape rather reluctantly, and find Barbs dead sleep. You carry him to the bedroom, falling into bed and only stay awake long enough to cover him with blankets

When you awaken, he's covered you too. His face is blushed already, thoughts of last night, the way he acted, and your response having played in his mind for hours before you opened your eyes. Seeing you in bed the next day made it real in a way the dull throb of his pussy couldn't. It really was you.

"I wanted to apologize for-"

"Sheesh, man, can I get a good morning first?"

You pull him into your arms, amused by the stark contrast to the side you saw last night. "We can talk about everything later. Much, much later. Like, tomorrow, later. Until then, just rest. There's no way you're fully recovered already."

He wasn't. In fact, his head still beat with a hellish hangover, not aided by his own massive mortification. But, he couldn't sleep quite yet.

"[Name], just, let me say this one thing."

You give him your full attention, your eyes locked on his. "I... I meant everything I said last night. I really don't want you to think I just wanted sex, I really do..."

"Love you."

You smile, dragging him into a kiss as bubbles float around your soul. "I never doubted you for a second, Barbie. I love you too."

His joy is palpable, raw and genuine. He kisses you this time, and for the rest of the morning, no one else matters.

-----

Eek! Did you enjoy ? I wanted the story to make more sense, the sex to feel more rewarding. Like yeah in the og he's drunk n horny and that's fun, but like, he's drunk and the love of his life is right next to him without a clue. He'd be horny AND sad, fs. And I feel it's more in character for Barbatos to be a sad drunk. TN is horny and desperate sober

[andy-wm]

Does he lust?

A brief response to Jimin's Be Mine

<I had several asks about this song. This is my response for all of them.>

Does he lust?

Yes. Yes he does.

And you will too.

He's gonna set you alight with his pretty, pretty words.

Dont you rush this feeling

take it slow...

Dancin' in the moonlight all night long,

If you're questionin' my love,

then don't

I want you to be mine...

You can try to resist, but his voice is so enticing... why would you want to?

If any song is a siren's call, it's this one.

If you're still fighting the seduction after reading the lyrics, his breathless, almost ritual recitation of

moving, coming, loving,

yeah yeah yeah

will surely render you helpless.

The staccato delivery of those lines, repeated with increasing urgency, will brand his words into your soul.

But hes not done...

Baby come

Baby come

Show me what

Show me what

Love is

He presses the words into you like kisses.

And just in case you didnt get the sultry vibes he already laid down, he couples those sensual words with a Latin rhythm, flowing over an afrobeat baseline like a warm wind on a hot summer night.

You don't think he chose the rhythms by accident do you?

Jimin tells you in a way only a dancer can tell you, he knows what he's doing.

He doesn't have to think. His body knows how to move.

The sex is tangible.

Light and feathery, then fast and hard, he switches it up and down like he's playing cat and mouse...

But Jimin didn't come here to play.

moving, coming, loving, yeah yeah yeah

I want you to be mine

He knows that urgent thrum of the Spanish guitar will make your skin tingle and your body hum. He knows if you close your eyes you can feel him pressed up tight against you.

moving, coming, loving, yeah yeah yeah

He's taking the lead - taking you places you can only dream of. He moves you with his voice, sweet and fluttery, then suddenly hard. He's demanding.

I want you to be mine

Percussion hits you from all sides with a steady pounding beat that you can feel in your bones. He has you up against a wall of sound when it all comes together.

moving, coming, loving, yeah yeah yeah

His voice is everywhere, surrounding you, pressing in relentlessly. Layers and layers of him, rasping, calling, yearning, gasping in your ear. it's overwhelming.

And then...

You resurface to an almost gentle refrain of

moving, coming, loving, yeah yeah yeah...

as his voice slowly fades out.

A bang, a crash, and suddenly hes gone, leaving you a smouldering wreck.

Its over?

But you want more.

You want it again.

That's why this song is on repeat.

That's why

There's no denying it...

You're HIS

Now imagine being the person he wrote this song for.

Go ahead and get yourself a glass of water - or a whisky - while you think about his infamous words

"I can handle it..."

I feel obliged to include this gif to illustrate his words. I'm not sorry.

I feel justified...

If I was an island

You'd be the party...

<I'm still smirking over those lines>

[marigold-hills]

June 25: curls | @wolfstarmicrofic | word count: 614

NOTE: NSFW, explicit, minors do not interact etc

PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART • FIRST PART

In the dying light of the day Remus is bathed in gold as Sirius pushes him down onto the bed. Goes easily, no resistance and no hesitation, haloed with the setting sun.

Let me curl into you, Sirius thinks, let me climb into the spaces between your ribs and hold your heart in the palm of my hand, your lungs between my teeth.

“You’re so beautiful, my star,” Moony says, voice like a gust of night wind.

Sirius wants to tell him so are you, so pretty, look at you, but the words get lodged somewhere in his chest at the sight: Moony, curls a disarray on Sirius’ pillow, lines of him all soft and pliant. The divot in his hips where Sirius is sat astride. All the hard angles of bones, just there for Sirius to dig into – fingers or nails or teeth.

“Are you…” he asks and falters, because it’s too much, he’s too much.

But Remus, as always, there to answer: “am I what, love?”

“Mine?”

Remus grips onto his thighs, hands with no hesitation. “Always,” he says, like it’s nothing – or rather like it’s the easiest thing.

Sirius kisses him. Licks the sharp edge of his jaw. Pushes his fingers under the hem of Remus’ thin shirt, the skin there new to him. “Let me taste you here,” presses his hand down to Remus’ hipbone.

It’s nothing more than a whine that answers him - he’s reached the limit of Moony’s control. Something akin to a yes and a nod, more enthusiastic than coordinated. Remus watches him move down his body the way an arsonist watches a forest fire, wide-eyed and awe-filled. Sirius is a wild man, an arrogant man. Adoration so pure and obvious lights him like a blaze.

Moony (his, his, finally just his) curls his hands into fists when Sirius’ lips touch his hip. (Sirius thinks yes, remembers a dream he spent exploring this part of Remus’ body. It’s even better like this, the halted breathing, the sunlight bathing them both aglow.

Gets bold. Gets greedy. Doesn’t deserve this, done nothing to earn it but he’ll be damned if he lets Remus go now. Will make him feel so good he’ll never want to leave.

Fingers skimming the edge of Remus’ trousers, he looks up to ask for permission and gets it before the question can leave him. Pushes the clothes down, away, until Remus is bare for him.

Mouth latched onto Remus’ thigh, the delicate skin on the inside of it, fingers gripping the other: that’s what it takes for Remus to let go and bury his fingers in Sirius’ hair. “Pull it,” he says, although he didn’t mean to; Remus does, and the burn is beautiful.

It empties his brain. Renders him quiet. Sirius lifts into the touch and wants to bite, to fill his mouth with Remus until he’s the only taste left. Does it, without preamble or pretence, moans around the cock in his mouth, gags when it hits his throat.

“You’re too good to me, mo réalta,” his Moony tells him, but he sounds all together too coherent, and Sirius wants to break that.

A man with purpose – catalogues each response he gets, learns how to make Remus unravel, then does it – again and again, until there is a hand pulling him away and Remus is giving him a warning and Sirius thinks no, I want you, all of you, let me, but it’s too late – Remus uses his own hand to finish, cum stains his stomach.

Give me more of you, give me everything. Sirius pulls Remus into him, holds him tightly. Feels the convulsions of each aftershock: I did that.

moon-girl88 @digital-kam @tealeavesandtrash @sweetstarryskies @alltoounwellll @hunnybeemarie @hoje--aqui @annaliza999 @hihimissamericanbi @gipitothefrog @shamelesswolfstarshipper @a-pine-cone @cosmicweeds @cocoabutterandbooks @bloodoffire @residentdisaster @shamelesswolfstarshipper @ravenwordss @prancingpony42 @themoonlovesthestars @starving-marauder-lover @weirdtinkerbellversion @deadcupcakehere @theprettieststarfr

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged in next parts)

[kan-be]

Hii!! Um I’m just curious about how you draw anatomy :D I absolutely LOVELOVELOVEEE your artstyle along with the coloring!! If you’re fine with it, can you give a breakdown how you draw anatomy? Or maybe how you suggest learning how to draw anatomy better- DW I UNDERSTAND IF YOU DON’T WANT TO SHARE THAT‼️ Either way it’s nice looking at your art and learning from it!!

hii!! ty ty that’s very sweet of you to say 😭💕

I’m actually not that good at anatomy myself and if I have to draw parts of naked body I surround myself with references 🥴 in any other case I just use blocks to make a rough sketch which I then dress up like a doll, so it’s not so much about anatomy as it is about proportions and shapes (which I suggest to learn first thing bc that’s what we started with at art school :p)

I really don’t think you need to know the name and exact form of every bone from the bottom to the top to draw people well enough, IMO all you need as a core except for named above are the very general things like the way leg bones connect with pelvic bones, or the rib cage shape and how it can differ, or, for example, those anchor points where the bones are practically not hidden by anything, like the collarbones or upper anterior iliac spine and etc etc. what I’m trying to say is you don’t have to memorise skeleton and all the muscles in all details, especially in the beginning 🤓

in terms or advices I probably won’t say anything new: when I get an annual urge to learn anatomy more or need a reference I go through Anatomy for Sculptores since everything is very clearly shown there or straight to youtube and watch channels like Proko. he actually has a very useful practice in homework to find muscles or bones on a photo and draw it on top/separately. I myself rarely do it and I’m ashamed bc when I actually did it was so helpful for understanding 😭

I also have a few pinterest boards for anatomy and love to look at pics like these, gives me a better understanding of volumes and the way shading should go

I tried to read Bammes too but it has A LOT of (not so necessary on practice IMO) info (and a lot of typos in russian version) which is too much for my one and only braincell and I can’t remember a single thing for a dear life of mine from there 😭😭😭 schemes are good tho 🤓

heard good things about Figure drawing, Design and Invention by Michael Hampton and Morpho series (especially Simplified Forms) by Michel Lauricella but haven’t gotten my hands on them yet

I actually have this recs from someone on IG, can’t remember who it was sadly

and ofc looking at and drawing real ppl helps not only to understand how anatomy works but also how our body parts can hugely differ, even if it’s the exact same muscle

anyways sorry for a lot of letters, here is an edit of different sketches I have in timelapses, you can see how I usually do them 👀 I also tend to be lazy and sketch things without refs just to get confused on a rendering stage and redo anatomy on top with refs so I added one full timelapse just to show it 🤓

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Wip Whenever

I think I might sequester wip posts to once a week on a Thursday (coz it's Thursday). I'll post art and maybe a writing snippet if I'm up for it. Just gotta keep wips low-key.

anyway I got tagged by @skyrim-forever @firefly-factory @pocket-vvardvark Tagging @nyarevar and @archangelsunited. No pressure 🫂 The rest of the post is under the cut.

I've been working on the render that I started in December, just have his hair and some extra lighting details left.

And an idea for the next render

And a snippet from You, where Josh gets harassed by Hircine again.

“Fine,” I finally replied, shoving the ring back in my pocket, “What do you want me to do.”

The spectre nodded again, pleased with my answer, “I see you’ve matured since we last met, Blodskaal. I expected to hear protests?”

I sighed, “An what would refusing the Lord of the Hunt do? I’m old Hircine, I’m too fucking tired to argue.”

“You are a strange one, Nerevarine but I will make use of your—” The spectre paused for a moment and blinked its large eyes at me again, “Compliance.”

I grit my teeth as Hircine continued to rattle on, my hand still clasping the ring that I had shoved into my pocket.

“The one who stole my ring has fled to what he believes is his sanctuary,” Hircine continued, “Just as a bear climbs a tree to escape the hunter but only ends up trapping himself. Seek out this rogue shifter who has lost my favour, flay the skin from his body as you once did centuries ago and make it an offering to me.”

I shook my head as I finally let go of the ring in my pocket and folded my arms, “You want me to do what I did to Heart-Fang? Why should I do that? That kid’s done nothing to me.”

“Did Tharsten Heart-Fang do anything to you in the Hunting Grounds, Blodskaal?” Hircine countered, “Or was he acting on his nature?”

I rolled my eyes, “Heart-Fang attacked me in that maze, I don’t much care for his reasoning. That kid back in the gaols did nothing but annoy me a little. It’s not an equivalent.”

“It hasn’t stopped you before, Blodskaal.”

‘He’s right, Sero—'

‘Shut it,’ I mumbled under my breath. The last thing I needed was Nerevar’s input. It’s his bloodthirstiness that got me into that mess out on Solstheim in the first place. I was content pissing my time away watching that mine.

“Not an equivalent,” I spat, replying to the two of them. I’d killed my fair share of people for ridiculous reasons, sure but I didn’t relish in having blood on my hands. Well, not the part of me that I associated with my old self anyway. There was a part of me that relished it but I’d always attributed that to Nerevar’s influence. A partial melding between the two of us that didn’t quite work in his favour.

It's a part of me that does not mix well with who I want to be. It churns about in my gut and merges with my paranoia like a demented slurry. I’d always tried to push that desire out of my mind, but there's always something that grabs me and throws me back into wanton violence. Then I spend all my fucking time justifying to myself why I did it in the first place. If they attacked me, then I have a reason to kill as I wish.

The thought just makes me feel sick.

“There is no retribution in the hunt, Nerevarine. I do not seek vengeance as you do, no. Merely the glory of the hunt,” Hircine’s voice boomed throughout the clearing, and I struggled not to cup my hands around my ears. That kind of vulnerability in the face of the likes of Hircine would be a grave mistake on my behalf. Though it seems that the spectre noticed my discomfort regardless, “Nerevarine, there are countless others that would gladly accept my favour. They will hunt him while you delay. It is your choice.”

“I’m not looking for your favour,” I replied flatly, “If I recall you orchestrated this whole thing to lure me out of hiding. Why the fuck would I seek you out of my own volition?”

“Be careful with your words, Blodskaal,” Hircine threatened, “Do not think you have the upper hand here just because you possess my artifact. You may have once been favoured by Azura but she has long abandoned you. You crave that favour again. That is why you will do as I command, because you are compelled to do so by your very nature—”

I spat on the ground in front of me, the taste of ash burning in my throat as my fury rose. I hated this sort of tactic, insult aspects of myself that I had no fucking control over and attribute everything I do as an inevitability because of that. As if I was never capable of change. That I needed to be treated like shit just to get me to comply. I was no stranger to it, whether it was my bastard of a grandfather, Orvas Dren, Caius Cosades, Nerevar, the Daedric Princes, the fucking Tribunal! Fuck even you at the end reduced me to nothing but the curse that corrupts my flesh!

Everyone who ever believed in me is either dead or too far away to help me right now. All I had at the end of the day was myself and I’d been fighting alone for two human lifetimes at this point. The only person who could stand up for me is myself and I knew there was one thing this fucker was wrong about.

Azura never truly abandoned me, I abandoned her.

“Fuck this,” I growled, turning away from the spectre. I was done parlaying with a fucking Daedra. It’s rid myself of the ring in some cave or a deep hole or something and hope that it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass again. I heard my guardian move and crackle as Hircine’s voice boomed through the clearing once again.

“You never had a choice.”

And my own voice echoed his words as I hit the forest floor.

[theunholybastard]

Kinktober: October 29th - Breath Play (Papa Emeritus III x Female!Reader)

Tags: Established Relationship, Choking, Rough Sex, Groping, Naked Female Clothed Male, 1st Person POV

Oh, my beloved Terzo Emeritus. Where do I even begin with him?

When he first ascended into Papacy, my attraction and obsession for him grew even more. He just looked so good in those new robes, that new suit, the mitre and gloves. He looked powerful, respectable, the epitome of sin. I followed him around like a lost puppy, non-stop staring adoringly. He didn't mind it at all, in fact, he quite liked the attention.

I practically begged on my hands and knees for him to fuck me while wearing his robes. He already was on board with the idea, he just wanted to hear me plead for him, the cocky bastard. But my wish was his command, therefore he began fucking me, fully clothed and no doubt so fucking hot and sweating underneath those robes, but fuck, who cares when he looks this good?

His robes swayed as he rocked into me, my hands running over and clutching at the soft, rich fabric. I let out a loud, high pitched moan, shattering the eardrums of everyone within a ten mile radius. I can't help my vocalizations when I'm with the sex God that is Terzo.

"Mmm, Papa, fuck!" I scream out, wiggling against the sheets, overwhelmed and highly stimulated by his cock and his fingers stroking my clit. He smirks, the sweet sound of his moans mixing so beautifully with mine, staring down at my exposed and vulnerable body, and how intensely I react to his ministrations. He loves seeing me like this, a mess breaking down and falling apart beneath him, or above him, either view is heavenly.

"You like this, bella ragazza?" He purrs, knowing damn well I do in fact fucking like this. Why else would I be screeching like a banshee and making a creamy mess all over his Papal robes? My gaze falls to his hands, distracting me momentarily. He ditched his gloves, so I can see his bare hands, flexing and veins bulging as he gropes me every which way. His slender fingers look delectable. What I would give to suck on them as he rails me. What I would give to feel them wrapped tightly around my throat, rendering me unable to breathe, unable to think...

My moans dissipated, too busy thinking of him choking the life out of me, safely of course. He noticed, stilling his moments briefly to regain my attention. "Where did your mind go just then, eh? All up in the clouds, and not down here with your Papa?" He scolds playfully, though he is confused and curious as to what distracted me. "What's on your mind, hm? Is Papa not pleasing you well enough?"

"N-no! Papa, you are, it's just..." I trail off, almost too embarrassed to suggest such a thing. We've never done that before, I don't even know if he would be into that. He's not usually a sadist, more of a service top.

"What is it? Spit it out, princepessa. Whatever you need, you know I can provide you." He coos, kissing my cheek tenderly, making me blush. His movements started up again, slowly and involuntarily, I'm not even sure he realized he went back to thrusting. It only made it harder to admit.

"C-could we..." I quiver. "Could we maybe try something new?" I ask softly, whimpering as his cock kicked inside me and grazed my g-spot. His eyebrow raised, a sex crazed look of pure excitement in his eyes.

"What do you have in mind, tesoro?" He beams, hips rocking faster subconsciously. Another moan is pulled from my lips. I can't stop looking at his fucking hands.

"I w-want you to..." I whine, unable to get the words out. "To choke me. C-could you do that?" His eyes went wide, hips stuttering for a second, like even they were doing a double take.

"Choke you?" He questioned. He didn't look turned off or disgusted by the suggestion like I feared. His expression was mostly unreadable, I could only sense surprise. I nod. "Please, Papa." I whimper. Oh, does that get him going.

His surprise quickly turns into one of intense, primal arousal. He's fucking insane, snapping his hips into me harshly, forcing his cock to stuff me to the brim violently over and over, humping me like a mad man. I don't have time to adjust to the pace, crying out helplessly as he uses me roughly, the sound of wet plaps echoing through the room.

"That's what you want? You're filthy, girl. I like that." He grins sadistically, a side I've never seen him exhibit before. I gotta admit, I'm fucking loving this. He wraps his hand around my neck, not putting any pressure at first, just resting there, taunting me.

"Such a nice, soft neck..." He sighs, growling and snapping his hips brutally like an animal in heat. I hardly recognize him in this state. Who is this crazed lunatic wearing Terzos face? He squeezes slightly, not nearly enough as I want. He's teasing me, I know it. Unfortunately, I am not a patient person.

"Please, Papa! S-show no mercy, just choke me, make me fight for air, make me-" He cuts me off by squeezing hard around the sides of my neck, careful not to put pressure on my windpipe. He cuts off my blood flow, getting me dizzy and dazed, the feeling of that mixed with my cock drunk state feels like I'm high. I see stars, my pussy suddenly ten times more sensitive. His other hand that is prodding at my clit is rubbing it so perfectly, and all of these sensations combined are going to tip me over the edge, and soon.

He takes his hand off my neck briefly to give me a break, and I use that opportunity to mindlessly babble. "Papa, fuck me! I'm so close, please don't stop! Fucking choke me out while I cum, please Terzo!" I wail, my head thrown back against the pillows, tantalizing neck in full view for him. I hear him groan, loud and obscene, clearly close himself, those wild buckings clearly not doing him any favors for lasting long.

"Yeah, cara mia? You're going to cum on my cock? Let go for me, beautiful. Give me your sweet nectar." He lets out a throaty moan, eyes rolling back like he was being possessed. With the way he was fucking me, I wouldn't be surprised if he was, body taken over by some sort of Incubus.

It happens - I cum, hard, a rush of pleasure crashing down on me, trembling uncontrollably, tears even escaping my eyes from the intensity. It left me breathless, knuckles turning white as I clutched onto his clothing for dear life. All while this was happening, his hand returned to my neck, squeezing as hard as he could without hurting me, ripping away my oxygen and my life line, only amplifying the feel of the orgasm.

He follows about a minute after, spilling himself into the condom he was wearing, ropes shooting so far and fast he almost feared the condom had broke. But as he pulled out, and saw it was still intact, he let out a sigh of relief and tossed it in the trash.

"You're beautiful like this, you know?" He murmured, pressing gentle kisses all over my face, my eyes just barely open, completely fucked out and brain dead. His eyes that were once dark with desire, were now full of love and adoration. "In the glow of your orgasm... this might be my favorite state to see you in." He admits.

"Oh yeah?" I slur, half asleep and barely retaining anything he said. He chuckles against my moist skin, pulling away and suddenly scooping me up in a bridal hold. I yelp. That woke me up real quick.

"Don't fall asleep on me now, amore." He gets out of bed, walking with me to the bathroom. "We gotta get you all cleaned up, don't we? Let's run you a nice warm bath while I get this robe down to the cleaners." As the water runs, he laughs softly at something on his mind.

"What?" I inquire sleepily. He shakes his head.

"Nothing. Just that Sister Imperator is going to be so pissed when she finds out I soiled these robes right after getting them." He snorts.

"Worth it, though?"

"Oh, fuck yeah. Worth it."

-

[lyon-amore]

    The fire surrounded almost all the nearest exits and each time the smoke bothered my chest, making it hurt every time my lungs asked to breathe.

    The mask did its best to block the smoke, but it was not made for the job.

    Unfortunately for me, that explosion had also caused the ground to shake, causing rocks to start falling from the ceiling.

    I try to block it with my arms, so that they do not hit me in the head and each blow tears and burns my sweatshirt, rendering it useless.

    It is then that a structure stands in my way. Shit. I must now turn again.

    By the time I do, a rock falls on my head, making a gash.

    And that's when I scream in pain.

    I open my eyes, putting a hand on my chest, trying to calm my heart that has raced from remembering what happened in the mine. I am sweating like I did that time, still feeling the fire in my body, as if it hasn't disappeared yet.

   “Jake? What's wrong?” a sweet voice is heard next to me and I see its owner.

    Her blond hair is disheveled and her warm eyes look at me with concern.

    As if it were a miracle, I approach her, hugging her. I bury my face in the crook of her neck, still smelling the perfume she had put on that day.

   “Nothing, I'm fine,” I answer leaving a kiss on her neck, “I just had a nightmare.”

   “Was it the same thing that happened at the mine again?”

    It is impossible to hide it from her, she knows me well.

    I pull away and nod, running my hand over her face.

   “It is not something I can forget,” I take a deep breath, shaking my head slowly,  “that night I thought I would never see you again, if it had not been for you coming into my life, I think I would have stayed in that mine to die.”

   “Don't even think about saying that,” she places both her hands on my face, carefully caressing my scars, “the world couldn't lose you Jake, and look where you are now. You're with me. You would have known me somehow because I would have been looking for someone who was only like you. One and only Jake.”

    I laugh, imagining what our meeting might have been like if it hadn't been for Hannah. I am sure I would have noticed her, in some passing little conversation, in the way she looks at others with kindness, in how she always defends those who need it.

    Calmer, I decide to settle down on her chest, hugging her. She begins to caress my hair, massaging me slowly to calm me down.

   “I still do not know how to thank you for giving me the courage to have a new life again, angel.”

   “It wasn't me, you did it yourself,” I can tell from those words that she must be smiling. One of the most beautiful smiles I have ever seen in my life, “you managed to fight for us, you wanted us to have a future.”

   “And it is what I have wanted most since I met you” I turn around a little, kissing her on the stomach, “I promise I will not leave again, no running away, just the three of us.”

   “So why have you abandoned me, Jake?” I wondered when I heard that question, the sweet voice had disappeared, giving way to one that seemed to be crying, “Why haven't you come back to me? Was everything you promised me a lie?”

    I open my eyes, still hearing her voice in my ears. It sounded just like that night when she cried. When I promised her I would come back.

    I sit up in the unmade bed because I've been moving around so much because of the fever. And my arms still hurt because of the mine.

    I examine my bandages. They are damp with sweat, they need to be changed. Luckily I am not bleeding like I used to, but wounds take a while to heal.

    I get out of bed, walking over to the bag with all the necessities I had asked for. I am going to owe her big one.

    As I change the bandages, I think about the next step, Nymos. I have to prepare him to reinstall it on her phone, even if it takes a while. I have already managed to block everything to protect them, now it is time to recover the messages from that night and send them to her.

    Even though I am injured, I have not stopped working. It keeps me mentally busy while I think about her. She is the only one who gives me the strength to return to her side. If I think about her face, her voice, her presence, everything I am doing means it is worth it. I would not be doing all this if it were not for the woman I love. I already broke the rules I had when I met her and I would do it again to get back to her side.

   “I will not break my promise, Macie, I am coming back for you,” I turn on the laptop, typing the password quickly despite the pain still in my entire body, “you are the angel who has given me the strength to keep on living, and I will not rest until I am finally by your side. Just wait a little longer, my angel.”

I missed writing Duskwood's Jake so much after so many AUs 🥺

[maxslickfunyfics]

Alright I can't talk all that game and have nothing to show for it

So I'm posting a snippet of my macromarch project for the lovely Sayian simps and spicy Giant/tiny enjoyers! I'm still in edits so it'lll be at least another week or so IDK let's just get to the big monkey sex with Videl and Gohan, huh? This is a half assed AU where Capsule Corp becomes a space marine operation and it goes without saying NSFW

Videl did her best to scrape the substance off. A shower of feathers danced against her skin when the beast huffed its hot breath at her again, pulling her attention back to it. The creature stuck his tongue out at her from the tip of its snout and snickered keenly. He then lifted the curtain of his jowls, flashing his teeth in a gesture he remembered signified fun and safety. 

Videl however only saw her own reflection in the oversized ivory fangs. Once again grave fear gripped the capitan’s fevered mine but it had a hard time keeping a hold over her. The haze of pheromones in the air and seeping into her pores was rendering her incapable of staying afraid. 

“Listen, that's a nice set of chompers you've got. Just please don't use them on me!” she bargained.

He couldn't understand her words, but a meaning was recognized. He brought his jowls back down over his teeth. Then watched as she relaxed a bit more in his company. 

The oozaru could see now, the path forward to successful mating would depend upon how delicately he could approach this suitor. She was small, but what could be expected from the beetles that worshiped him? Their stature was even more diminutive than hers. But her beauty, the gentle softness of her skin, that raven dark hair, and those twinkling starlight eyes. While not an oozaru of equal standing, what was before him was a treasured offering all the same.

It continued to hold Videl in its scarlet gaze, though she'd taken his eyes off him for the moment. Desperately, she was attempting to scrub the amber from her legs, which had dried to the consistency of molasses. Only with frantic friction did a couple droplets of the mysterious substance fall away to the cave floor. 

“What is this stuff?” She sighed breathlessly. Sweat had formed at Videl's brow for all her efforts but she was no closer to removing the glassy gunk. She pulled her hands away from her thighs, met with notable resistance as the ooze on her palms and legs had begun to mix. Two long strands of amber extended from her fingertips before snapping at their center, retracting quickly, hugging close to her form. 

“Ew.” Videl groaned, shivering. The oozaru watched closely mesmerized. Its primal mind wondered if this was a display or mating dance from wherever the little one was from. Something told him it was not, but still her legs bewitched him.

They were long and toned at the calf, broadening to brawnier thighs covered in healed scars. The shiny amber encasing them only highlighted their shape. Carefully, the giant simian dared a hand towards one of her legs. 

Videl could only watch with a mounting anticipation when the giant fuzzy hand came back for her, much slower this time. Instinctively even with nowhere to go, she flinched away from his touch. The rough fingertips grazed the sole of one foot.

“Hey. Uh, big guy, what are you doing?” Videl asked breathlessly. It pinched and lifted the limb with an incredible precision and force. The sensation was amplified and distorted by the amber. Her whole body was filled with heat, trapped under her sticky skin. Warm blood rushed under her cheek and collarbone.

It was strange, but the way this monster looked at her, Videl doubted she'd suffer the same fate as the bugs sacrificed alongside her. The beast’s huge face was a mask of horror; thick light fuzz outlining his muzzle, eyes and ears sunken into folded leather skin, plush black fur covering its cheeks and all around its head. Yet something in the creature’s expression clawed at her chest, making her heart pounding frantically.

Currently the behemoth's eyes were transfixed on a bruise on the ankle he held in his hand. It was fading, soon to join the endless constellations of marks that dotted the warrior’s skin. A memory flashed through the monster's mind of when the wound was much fresher. 

The little dark haired one was resting in an overturned nest of greenery, wincing from a hard fall during a hike. He was crouched just over her, and for some reason, she didn't seem nearly as small.

“Ah! That looks bad. Let me get my first aid capsule.” said a voice. His voice. He could remember his hands went to work dressing the wound, keeping it elevated on his lap, cleaning it with an antiseptic, and gently massaging it to check for broken bones.

“Ouch! It's still tender, you know!” she snapped at him angrily. She was so close here, eyes so blue. Her rage and its ramifications more tangible the longer he stared. 

“Right! Sorry, but luckily it doesn't feel sprained. Let me get a stint on it and we'll call it for now. Get you back to a healing pod on base. You'll have to keep weight off of it till then.” 

“Thanks for the check up, Professor.” she chided with a smirk, “But hobbling one legged back to the ship will take till sundown, even using you as a brace.” 

“Oh. I was just going to carry you there…” he blinked simply. 

The memory faded from the beast's mind, with the girl pressed snuggly against his chest as they walked through the dimming forest. What didn't fade was that soft scent radiating from her skin. Salty and sweet with a woody spice, that very smell had haunted the great oozaru those past lonely weeks of being worshiped out in the woods. It was nothing like the more pheromone laden fruity scent those beetles excreted at him all the time and its depth and weight persisted above the concentrated version of the secretions that coated her now. He was beginning to understand, the offering before him wasn't just the beetles haphazard attempt to subdue the thronging of his loins. She was a carefully planned summoning of a dearly departed mate he'd nearly let slip his memory. Their meeting here tonight was destined as was their joining. Between his own fuzzy thighs his resolve hardened.

Seeing the wound again, the oozaru could not fight back the instinct he so easily repressed that day. He brought the ankle to his fury lips and began licking it in a show of comfort. Repeatedly he drug the tip of his tongue up and down the area. He felt her tiny muscles tense and then melt at his care. 

“Uhnggg!” Videl moaned softly. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead and neck, surrendering to a sudden, frightening ecstasy. 

Even through the amber the beast could feel the receding bump from the bruise. The substance tasted as sweet as it smelled and relented slightly to his monstrous saliva, sending tiny flecks of it down his throat.

“Damn it…” she hissed through gritted teeth,”Why is this… I’m… am I horny??” Videl's head fought for air in a torrent of confusing emotions and impulses. Fear prickled under her skin that the sticky amber may have heightened some senses and dulled some others.  

The general CC corps policy on intercourse with alien lifeforms while on the clock was one two-word phrase: Don’t. Please. However, beyond that restriction, Videl couldn't shake the idea that sex with a several story monkey could end in several lasting physical and mental traumas. This all built upon the fact that this thing may have murdered the first guy Videl considered banging in some strange space cave. 

Her head rolled to one side of the cool stone wall she’d firmly burrowed into, then the other. She looked down at the monster’s face caressing her calf, then up to the rest behind. There was so much of him to see; bulging muscles, rippling back, notably taught round ass. A grotesque buffet of oversized anatomy, spawned from some dark corner of the universe, and she had it all to herself. 

The giant monster’s eyes were back on her. He gave a gentle chirping to get her attention. He didn't want to scare her for what he wanted to do next. Those blue eyes called him closer. The oozaru pressed his snout and lips to her collarbone. Even the slightest nibble could be fatal at this positioning, so he opted instead to graze his gritted fangs against that soft skin. 

“Aaah!” She shrieked with pleasure. Videl seized what she could of the creature’s face in her arms. That luscious fur that greeted her, despite it all it was cool to the touch and so incredibly entangling. Even the scent, the distinct extraterrestrial astringent smell of the jungle trees along with that sweet orange mist of the beatles and at the end a few scents Videl recognized but was not in the presence of mind to place. The last bit of her reason died suffocating under the amber. 

“Ooooh Kami! Y-you’re just too much…” she panted into the furry face. Every noise she made in his favor urged the titanic primate onward in his courtship. The oozaru’s penis rose steadily, chafing against the cave floor. His longing, already demanding, rose in pitch and fervor. Tonight, it screamed, right now, in this cave. You cannot proceed alone. You face despair if this fails. 

You. Need. Her. 

 The gargantuan hand that so carefully held her calf sat it back down, and crept only a bit further to where the skin of her belly met the elastic of her underwear. Videl's stomach quivered from the texture of his touch. It excited him to a point beyond restraint, feeling her shivering against his nail. With a reflex, he flicked her panties into the damp air of the cavern. They floated briefly, then collected on the ground, a pile of silken rags. The beast froze, looking at the destruction left in his impulsive wake. Several things rolled around in the dark corners of his mind; some angry, some afraid, all moving double time to the throbbing from below.  Videl, however, welcomed the rush of cool air against her heated nether regions, though the creature's sudden pause made her pull away.  He blinked at her slowly, stiffly, unsure how to go on. 

“That was bound to happen…” she breathed, rubbing the monster’s snout. There was something about the dopey expressions that gave the beast a comforting charm. She pulled her hands away reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra.

“In the interest of keeping some underwear intact, I'll help out with this one.”

With a wink and a bend, Videl undid the last hook, unwrapping the bra from her ribs and chest. Then she slid off the straps; one off each arm. When the cups of brazier fell away, Videl's breasts dropped, unrestrained, back down to her rib cage. Her brown nipples, however, stood proud in the night breeze. No barriers remained between her and him now. Despite all the urges, the deep yearning to devour her then and there, the creature couldn't help but stop and stare. Those soft thighs surrounded a tuft of dark hair that crowned her vagina. Shapely hips drew his eyes back up her torso, past her belly and up to those freed melons that sat so proud. The scent from her dripping tickled inside his cavernous nostrils. The tip of his tail flickered wildy, a dark flame of passion. Videl reclined herself back against the rock wall, placing an arm behind her head for comfort and safety- well, as much safety as she could reasonably manage while having sex with a giant space monkey in a cave. Luckily the giant space monkey was on the same page, and took the liberty of scooping her back into his cupped palms.  

There was that fuzzy feeling against her shellacked skin again, now accompanied by the new sensation of the monster’s padded palms gently creasing around her. They formed a warm waterbed wrapped in a fine furred duvet: all king-sized. She rubbed her fingers against the new textures with glee, sinking deeper into the warmth with every movement. The monster saw opportunity in this writhing. He moved his face close to her body once more, parking his great nose at her navel. Now Videl froze, trapped in those ruby eyes once again. This time, the beast leaned close enough she could even see their prisoner within the strata of rods and cones. Past that warbled reflection of her rapture, she could see the creature’s pupils, round and softened, focused all on her. It melted Videl in a familiar way. Before she could dare a deeper thought about it, the monster blasted it from her mind with a wave of hot sticky breath on her thighs. 

He rumbled, something between a purr and a growl as his lips parted. Gazing upon the woman was only half the plan. From here, it was a simple journey for his tongue down to her sweet garden. Videl was helpless to watch the pleasure dance across her own face as the monster tasted her, sliding a large and impossibly dexterous tongue down and between her thighs. 

“Oh Kami!” Videl yelped when the slick appendage reached its target. It lapped up her warmth, each stroke bursting with an energy that surged up her spine and through her body. She grasped at the familiar fur around her, desperate to ground herself anyway she could as torrential ecstasy threatened to atomize her down to the last molecule. Her torso arched violently away from the monster’s paw pads only to crash right back down into the plush, warm leather. Her high pitched squeaks and groans bounced against the cave walls, doubling and tripling into a cacophony of ecstasy.