#when in reality even that is a ruse

[arc-archernar]

more than anything...

[justaz]

fake dating!arthur panicking after being cornered by a princess/noblewomen and saying that merlin is his husband bc he was the first person he thought of bc he doesn’t want to court or marry this woman, he wants to marry merlin. so now the two of them have to keep up this charade while visiting/being visited. arthur dressing merlin in fine clothing and crowning him for feasts just as merlin has always crowned him but now they sit side by side at the table instead of him sitting and merlin standing a few feet away. arthur and merlin holding hands and linking arms and trying not to seem to eager to finally have an excuse to hang off the other. everyone getting tipsy enough on wine and relaxing from Queens and Kings to people that happen to be royalty and speaking freely, them asking merlin and arthur how they fell in love bc wtf the king of camelot married a fucking servant??? a peasant??? and merlin (lightweight, finally had access to alcohol all evening instead of standing sober for an hour) engages easily enough and tells the story of how they met and then when he first started to catch feelings which is entirely truthful but arthur is convinced he’s making it up for their ruse so he decides to match his energy and tell his side of things of when he first caught feelings which is again entirely truthful but merlin is convinced its for their ruse.

anyways arthur watches as merlin loosens up and lights up the room with his smile and eyes and his joyful energy and he’s captivating everyone in the room as they hang onto every letter his lips spell out and he starts to imagine it’s all genuine, that he truly is married to merlin and this was a feast to celebrate them and their union. merlin speaks of how their courtship, engagement, and marriage was rather sudden (his eyes glitter mischievously when he looks over at arthur as he says this and arthur can’t help but share a conspiratorial grin at his sly comment) and how he feels like a fish on land or like everyone else knows the dance, when to step, where to step, how to step yet he didn’t even know there’d be music playing, he talks of how he feels out of place and one of the royals is like “do you regret your marriage then?” and merlin is slow to answer but not because he’s unsure but just bc he’s thinking over a reality in which he does marry arthur and how he would feel in that position.

he finally answers and is like “i mean to say, everything is different and challenging, yes, but he’s been with me every step of the way. he’s been my rock and,” he turns his head to stare at his king, “he makes it all worth it.” and arthur looses his breath. he reminds himself its an act over and over again but his heart can’t help from pounding against his ribcage in an attempt to escape into merlin’s soft hands. merlin’s lips aren’t moving but he can hear his voice say something softly but his brain is too foggy to comprehend what he’s saying. arthur just about manages a shaky smile and nod and then merlin is reaching up toward his face and crowding in and then he’s kissing (kissing) arthur in front of everyone and arthur can’t pay any attention to that when merlin’s lips are pressed against his. just as he presses back, merlin pulls away and turns to smile at the other royals and the feast continues but arthur is barely aware of that bc he can’t pull his eyes away from merlin’s glowing profile as he continues his conversation with the rest of the royals

anyways merlins knowledge of royal duties is from watching arthur work through it and helping where he can so when they ask him what it was like jumping from a servant to a royal he has a great answer of it not being easier or harder but just that he faces a different set of challenges and that there are pros and cons to both lives and it just gives all these royals another perspective on how they rule and arthur is just sitting there giving him heart eyes bc merlin is literally acting like a royal and its just fueling his fantasy of being married to merlin and having him as his king. before their ruse, he considered the possibility often as a late night fantasy, but now that he’s seen a glimpse of what merlin would be like at his side, he can’t help but need it like he needs air

[piastrixpole]

Lessons in Lust - Charles Leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x sainz!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, soft dom! charles, praise, dirty talk, riding

Your fingers brushed delicately over the ivory keys before you in rapid succession as you played the same sequence for what felt like the millionth time. The slow melody was all but ringing inside your head as you tried to keep your focus on not messing up as you approached the most difficult part of the piece. It was particularly melancholic to the ear and absolutely beautiful when played correctly but technically very difficult to pull off. Especially with a distraction looming over you, observing your every movement.

Feeling the pressure while under his intense stare you missed a critical note throwing the whole piece off. You let out a quiet sigh knowing what comes next, restarting and playing the whole piece again. Casting your eyes momentarily up at your sheet music that rested on the stand you pretended to busy yourself with fixing your consistent mistake, but in reality you just wanted a better look at him.

Him being your piano teacher and sometimes lover, Charles Leclerc. It had started out innocently enough. You were his teammate’s deceptively sweet and naive sister and despite him denying it you knew he got off on having you like this. Knew that Carlos would lose his shit if he found out that the piano lessons you were taking with Charles weren’t just you honing your skills but rather a ruse to fuck him.

“You’re overthinking again,” he finally spoke. Only then did you realise how close he was to you. His tone seemed softer than it should be for a man that was ruthless in spite of his sweet appearance. It sent a shiver down your spine, to think that maybe –just maybe— he was being gentle because it’s you. But you had to shake that ridiculous thought out of your head. You were merely his teammate’s sister, another rich girl who threw herself at him.. “Your shoulders keep tensing up at the first movement of the piece. You need to loosen up Y/n, feel the emotion of it, feel the desperation.”

Well you were certainly feeling desperation. There was something captivating about how animated he got when passionate about what he was saying. And perhaps it was that desperation that lead you to your next move. “Care to show me how it’s done then?”

“You want me to show you?” He echoed, now seemingly amused by the situation.

Maybe you’d come to regret these words later but you were determined to rile him up “well yeah, you’re kind of all talk, you know…I’ve never actually heard you play in person. Are you even any good?”

Charles scoffed, a smirk tugging at his lips Without glancing at the sheet music, he placed his fingers on the keys. 

“Prove it,” you retort with a hidden smile.

You shuffle further towards the edge of the small piano stool as he takes a seat next to you. For a moment you contemplate standing up and letting him have the space in front of the keys entirely to himself but you couldn’t pass up a front row seat to his performance. Without glancing at the sheet music, he placed his fingers on the keys. The moment he began to play, a surge of energy filled the room. The notes flowed effortlessly from him, each one rich with emotion and power. His style was distinct—intensely passionate, yet refined.

You can’t help but stare at the way his fingers move back and forth with a dexterity that should not be possible for hands of that size. His movements are almost paradoxical, impossibly delicate and intense at the same time. When he reaches the height of the emotion in the piece which is by far the most difficult part, the part you can never quite seem to master, you see how he stretches out his hands so that his pinky and his thumb are playing keys that seem impossibly far apart.

It’s just unfair. The size of his hands, the length of his fingers, give him an advantage that you don’t have. It’s useful to have hands like his, and you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have them on your body. If that veiny hand was instead curled around your neck or trailing down your skin.

“Show off,” you whisper. You mean it to sound playful, but instead, you sound breathless as the music slowly fades away and he finishes.

There’s a lingering gaze between you two. As if you’re both daring the other to break the tension that’s been brewing since your first lesson. Before you even have time to react, to give in to your own impulses, his lips are on yours. You’re momentarily stunned but quickly give in. His hands wander somewhere behind your neck, gentle and cradling your head, one of his thumbs brushing your cheek delicately. The kiss grew more fervent as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. He pulls you closer to him as it becomes more passionate and you feel like you're melting.

Little gasps and whimpers escape you but he swallows them all in his kiss. He wraps a forearm around your waist and pulls you across so that you’re now sitting on his lap. Your ass is now directly on top of his crotch and you can feel how hard he is pressed up against you. He comes up for air from the kiss and whispers against the flushed skin of your neck “your turn, sweet girl.”

“Are you serious?” You’re in complete disbelief at his request.

“Come on amour,” he coaxes you by planting soft kisses along the expanse of your neck, sucking harshly on some causing soft moans to fall from your swollen lips “don’t you want to be a good girl for me? My star pupil?”

Your hands hesitantly rest on the keys only for a second as you process the words that just came out of his mouth. His perfect fucking mouth. But then you remember yourself, and you know that you can’t disappoint him. You have to focus on the instrument in front of you and make sure not to make any mistakes, which is easier said than done with his hard cock pressed up against your ass. You almost have the hang of all your movements when his hands begin to move from your waist towards your rib cage and his thumbs sweep back and forth against the underside of your breasts.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs against your ear. “Tell me this is okay.”

“Fuck, yes. All of it.”

He doesn’t need any more encouragement. The next thing you know, his calloused hands are on your tits, his fingers teasing your nipples over the fabric of your thin little bralette while you will your hands not to shake so that you can finish the piece before you cum untouched.

Somehow managing to play the piece flawlessly you get a hum of approval from Charles. “Good,” he says and you preen at his approval. From there he wastes absolutely no time standing you up and pushing your tight little black skirt up to your stomach, revealing the delicate lace underwear you’re wearing underneath. He’s still sitting, his face at the right height to admire your exposed body on display for him. “Fuck sweetheart, your ass looks fucking beautiful in these.” They don’t stay on for long. Within seconds and one fell sweep your panties have been ripped .

“Sorry darling, they had to go. They were in the way of my perfect pussy.” You look over your shoulder just in time to see him stuffing the now useless lace into his pocket before his hands move to undo the button of his jeans, and then his fly. Your eyes are glued to his crotch as he lifts himself off the seat to push his jeans and boxers down far enough to reveal the most perfect cock you have ever seen.

He takes it in hand and pumps it a couple of times before he looks up at you again with something akin to mischief in his eyes. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

You don’t have to check to know that you’re already soaking wet, but you also know that you’ve never taken someone as big as him. He must see the slight hesitation in your eyes because his smirk softens just a bit. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll be gentle, but just while your pretty little cunt gets used to my cock.”

Well in that case, who are you to deny him? You take a deep breath as you position yourself above him, the hand that’s not holding his cock moving toward your hip to guide your movement. You can’t help but moan when the tip of his cock nestles itself between your folds.

“God sweetheart, you’re so wet already. Fuck,” he says as he pulls you down to rub your slick all over his cock and you jolt when he presses against it your clit. “I need to feel your cunt now. Move down slow, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”

You lean forward to watch as the head of his cock disappears into you. It only takes a couple of thrusts for your body to slip into place over his and all of a sudden you feel fuller than you ever have in your entire life.

“Oh fuck, I fucking knew you’d be tight. I fucking knew it,” he says in a tone that’s surprisingly soft for the words that are coming out of his mouth. His hand pressed firmly on your lower stomach so that you can feel him inside of you

“Oh-fuck!-Charles,” you moan as he slowly pulls out of your cunt, only to slam you back down on his cock roughly. His cock seems to be touching places so deep inside you that you didn’t even know they existed.

You clench around his cock as you bounce up and down on it, Charles’ hands exploring your body with fascination. It was as though he was trying to memorise every curve, every detail of you. He thrusts up roughly into you as well, stretching your pussy wide to fit him. Your eyes are practically in your skull at this point with the pleasure of him repeatedly hitting that spot inside you.

The originally slow and calculating thrusts into your pussy were a cruel taunt, with each one of them bringing you closer and closer to the edge. But as both you and Charles got closer to reaching your orgasm he began to pound a lot more rapidly and sloppier. Desperation was a good look on him you decided. The lustful eyes that couldn’t take their glossed appearance off of you, the swollen red lips matching yours, the way he threw his head back with a loud groan every time you clenched around his cock. The only noises in the echoey room were the sound of skin slamming against skin and the sounds you were making which were almost musical. An unusual kind of symphony.

“That’s my good girl,” Charles praises you as your tits bounce in his face with each and every thrust inside you “my perfect little slut, so good for me.”

You nod eagerly, brain so overwhelmed by the situation that you can’t even think of words to respond with.

“Say it darling,” his hand suddenly grasps your jaw forcing eye contact between the two of you “say you’re my good slut.”

“I-ma…I’m your good slut,” you manage to mewl out between moans.

“God your pussy is incredible,” Charles groans as he feels himself getting close to cumming “fucking milking my cock, that’s it, good girl, keep doing that.”

It hits you in waves shortly after. Every time you think you can’t possibly keep cumming, Charles and his unrelenting pace keep slamming into you, prolonging the sensation of utter fucking bliss that runs through your entire body. It’s the hardest you’ve ever come in your life.

He doesn’t stop, even as your legs go slack and he has to hold you up against him. He doesn’t stop thrusting into you even as he whispers how perfect you are, how perfect you feel cumming on his cock. He doesn’t slow down as he pushes you back down against the piano and tells you he’s going to fill you up with his cum. He doesn’t even lose his rhythm as you feel it pour into you in long streams.

Charles takes a few last thrusts before he pulls both of you back down onto the seat, his softening cock still buried in you. He runs his hands over your breasts and tilts your chin so that you’re facing him. That’s when he kisses you for the second time. His lips are just as soft and perfect as they were the first time. His tongue running against your lower lip even more so. “You did so good darling.”

“And you weren’t bad,” you jest with a small grin “very Moonlight Sonata of you.”

You’re not wrong. The rumoured story behind the current piece you’ve been working on and practicing together is that Beethoven composed it with his student and lover in mind. Funnily enough you seem to have unintentionally mirrored it.

“Only not bad,” Charles feigns offence “well if you’re going to be a brat about it, there’s always time for round two love.”

You chuckled softly, the tension in the air shifting from the intensity of the moment to a lighter, more playful energy. “Round two? You think you can handle me again?”

Charles smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, I’m more than capable, believe me. But let’s not rush it. There’s something to be said for savoring the moment.”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider his words. “Savouring, huh? Is that your excuse for taking it slow?”

“Perhaps,” he replied, his voice smooth and teasing. “But I think it’s important to enjoy every note, don’t you?”

“Fine, but I expect a grand performance,” you replied, crossing your arms with mock seriousness. “No more half measures..”

With a grin, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin. “I promise to give you a show you won’t forget. But first, let’s see if you can keep up.”

You met his gaze, the anticipation of what was to come stirring excitement within you. “Challenge accepted."

[syresdcthings]

Just had the visualisation of Bruce needing to be weighed down a really specific amount ever since he was a kid. Like Thomas lifting him during a Gala under the ruse that he was just sleepy but in reality he's squeezing him. Or Alfred bandaging him during his rebellious young teen years and having to do them over and over until they are JUST the right amount of tight. Khoa, stopping a fight with him when he notices he's acting odd and Bruce having to awkwardly instruct him on how to push him down by enough that he isn't hurt but he's unable to lift himself from the ground under his grip.

This carrys into his Batman career, and this means his Cape is WEIGHED. Like, imagine 3 weighted blankets on top of you. That's how heavy it is. And literally nobody else can lift it or wear it but to Bruce its perfect and it doesn't even change the way he fights, because he's used to it.

Dick fucking hates it. He has to be Batman on multiple occasions, and he HATES the Cape. More than usually does. Because its so hard to do anything flippy when you're body Is being pulled DOWN by some torture device on your back.

Also, the Cape is fluffy on the inside. He got that once Robin Dick was insistent on wearing shorts and he'd be chittering during the winter, so he allowed him to hide in his Cape whenever they were standing idly. Yeah.

[ramp-it-up]

... As Hard as I Did

Photo credit

Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. Now he knows he wants more than just one night with you, so much more. Do you feel the same?

Word count: 1.9K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This fic is connected to the Knock You Down AU, and comes immediately after KYD IV, but I feel it can be read as a stand alone. It is in answer to this ask. Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run is making me feral. I can write these two ALL DAY!!!! Y'all are gonna have to deal with this for a while, sorry not sorry.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Bucky is in love. The angst! The fluff! The morning after! Bucky wakes you up the best way he knows how, thorough female receiving oral sex, edging, manual sex, teabagging, squirting, nipple play, begging, use of Daddy, bukakke, cum play, Bucky cooks for you, google translate Romanian, the "L" word, allusions to cock riding.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

James Bucky Barnes had slipped and fallen in love.

Steve was so right.

It came out of the blue last Monday when he met with you about a painting, and here he was the very next Sunday morning, holding you in his arms. The ruse of him being a fully legitimate art dealer and not a crime boss had been quickly done away with by the media and your friends, and the fantasy of wooing you met the reality that you did not come to play.

You called Bucky on his bullshit and that made him fall even harder for you. He was honest about his plan to go legit and careful with your feelings, not immediately turning to physicality as he did with every other woman. There was something special about you that was worth the wait.

The five days had been an eternity for both of you, and Bucky had been like a teenager, unable to last very long. He was determined to set that right today, and also to tell you how he felt.

Bucky Barnes knew very little fear, but wondering if you returned his feelings was shaking him to the core.

He held to his original dream of making you smile at him forever, but those dreams had grown to thoughts of a life together, a home you could build together, and the thought of what kids together might look like.

Bucky smiled and held you closer as you snuggled deeper into his embrace and threw your leg over his hip. He caressed the soft skin of your thigh as he argued with himself. He was too old for this; he would be an old man when your kids were just going to college, but that didn’t stop him from making Steve go with him to Cartier yesterday after your event.

Steve grumbled, but he was still smitten with you from his conversation with you yesterday, so he didn’t protest the 5 carat purchase that Bucky made. His best friend just asked Bucky some pertinent questions like:

Had Bucky told you that he loved you?

Did you love him?

Did you even want to get married? To a criminal?

Did you want to have kids with Bucky?

Bucky just stared at Steve, creating the opportunity to goad him.

“But all that aside. If you don’t lock her down, I just might. I’ll close the deal swiftly.”

That left Bucky’s blood to boil while he prepared for dinner last night, but when he opened the door and saw you standing there, every negative vibe left his vicinity.

And now, you were here, warm and beautiful, and naked, in his grip. He was going to take full advantage of the few hours you might gift him today. He didn’t want to risk you running away after he told you his feelings.

He lifted your thigh and positioned himself most where he needed to be.

—--

You moaned in your sleep. You dreamed that Bucky was eating you out again, but you couldn’t quite feel his kisses and slurps to your folds, only whispers of sensation, like air. It was so frustrating, so you grabbed Buckys’ hair and scratched his scalp, trying to encourage him to be rougher.

He moaned and you smiled, calling his name.

“James, please….”

Your eyes fluttered open to the unfamiliarity of Bucky’s bedroom in the morning light. Your legs were spread wide and Bucky’s head was pillowed on your thigh, his hot breath teasing your pussy. 

“What are you doing?”

You looked down to see him staring at your most intimate parts and smiling.

“Mmmm. Good morning Frumoasă. I’m about to check an item off my long list of what I want to do to you…”

He pursed his lips and softly kiss your lower ones. You shivered and continued playing in his hair. You laughed, music to Bucky’s ears. He smiled up at you.

“Oh, so you have a list, do you?”

“Yes, an extensive one at that. I will show you later, but right now…”

Bucky moved to kneel and shoved his hands under your ass, serving you up to him as on a platter. His eyes moved from your fluttering cunt up your soft belly and your beautiful breasts to your face. He leaned forward to give you a sound smack on the lips.

“I was wondering if I was going to get a good morning kiss.”

That eyebrow arched and he moved down your body again.

“That’s all in my plan, Frumoasă. Just be patient. ”

You pulled Bucky’s hair as his long, thick tongue licked through you to your soul. You shuddered and Bucky smiled, then those lips took hold of your clit and sucked ruthlessly as he brought one hand up to push two fingers inside you, the squelch of your wetness so gloriously obscene. He stopped and just pumped those fingers inside you, listening.

“Hear how wet you are for me? It’s a dream come true.”

You reached with grabby hands for him to stimulate your clit as all he did was fuck you with his fingers and hold you open for him. You were on the edge of madness. And it seemed that was where Bucky wanted you.

“Jamie….”

“Atât de nerăbdătoare Frumoasă. savurați momentul.”

Somehow, you knew he was telling you to wait. 

“Please, please, please James. Eat your pussy please!”

Bucky’s eyes rolled back into his head. You begging was his weakness, what he wanted to hear from since day one. Then he realized what you’d said.

“... Did you say… that this pussy was mine?”

You smirked at him, feeling the brat.

“Maybe…”

Bucky frowned and slapped your clit, causing sparks of pain and pleasure to roll up your spine and wetness to gush out over his fingers.

“Ow! Yes! Yes! This pussy is yours, Daddy, please eat it.”

Bucky clenched his jaw and his cock, which was hard against his abdomen, jumped.

“Seems you know the magic words, Frumoasă.” 

Bucky rewarded you with his mouth clamped over your clit and his eyes locked on yours as you watched his tongue working in his jaw. He was eating you out like a professional. You arched into his face, clit hart and throbbing, ready to give him…

He pulled away as you gasp/screamed in outrage, then whimpered and pouted.

“Please Daddy!”

“Oh, you’re ruining me, I can tell. But tell me, Frumoasă, tell me…”

He regarded you now with a new possessiveness. Impossibly, it made you wetter.

“What else of yours is mine?”

You squirmed under his attention and he rewarded you with another finger in your cunt and all three curled against that electric spot within you.

“What about this ass?”

His pinky bullied into your tighter hole, and you arched as he leaned down to suck your clit like saltwater taffy.

“Oh shittttttt! Yes! Fuck yessss.”

Bucky was grinding his cock against the sheets now, possessed by the sight, taste, and feel of you in his hands. He could actually taste that you were close now, and he wanted it almost as much as you did, but he abandoned you again. He looked up at your body.

“What about those glorious tits?”

He reached up to pluck both of them of them ruthlessly over and over as he continued to finger fuck you. His breath was ragged and his face a mask of desire, but he still had a modicum of control.

“They are next on my list.”

“W-what do you mean?” 

You were thrilled and scared at the same time.

“Nu-ți face griji pentru ea frumos, doar ai răbdare.”

And his face was busy again between your legs, which were shaking around his ears. He held one down with one hand as he fucked you with the other.

“Shit, Daddy! I’m gonna….fuck! I’m gonna…”

Bucky nodded and looked up at you, then he told you to cum with his fingers and you shattered, gushing into his mouth and all over his bed.

Bucky leaned up and groaned as he played in your wetness, using that hand to begin to jack himself over your shuddering body.

“Can I come all over you, Frumoasă?”

“Yes, Daddy…”

Bucky groaned and then manhandled your nipples.

“Cum all over me, Jamie.”

Then he roared as you moved so that you could suck his balls.”

“Holy, shhhhhhitttttttt!”

You were circling your own clit as the first hot drops of his cum sprayed over your already heated body. You came one more time as he focused on your breasts and left a hot, sticky mess all over you.

Your eyes were closed as your shivered because Bucky’s hot mouth was sucking his spend off your nipples. He alternated between kisses, bites, and laps against your skin.

“James! Gotdamn! I–”

“I know, I know, Frumoasa. But I can’t get enough...suportă-mă, iubito…”

—---

Later that Sunday, around noon, you sat, twice showered, marked, edged, and fucked to within an edge of your life as you ate the brunch that Bucky made you. You were ensconced in one of his plain white tee shirts and some of his boxer briefs and socks, and he was looking at you hungrily.

You laughed.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Bucky smirked, happier than he’d been in a good while.

“Do you want more…?”

Despite the debauched things you’d spent the morning doing, you blushed and looked down at your plate. You felt like a slut. But in a good way. You loved sex with Bucky. It seemed like even his pleasure was focused on you. It was unlike any other relationship you’d ever had.

“I’m sorry. Do you regret it?”

Bucky stopped eating and tipped your head up by your chin with his fingers. He looked worried and you melted. You bit your lip and decided to go for it.

“No. Because I love you.”

Bucky’s fork clattered to his plate and his eyes grew wide while your bright smile faded. Then he frowned.

“Fuck.”

He looked mad.

“I- I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s too soon. I’m sorry, just forget that I said that.”

“No! Shit…”

Bucky grabbed your head and kissed you, the strawberries and cream from the waffles flooding your senses as his tongue found yours. When he was done, he grinned at you.

“I was pissed for a second, but not at you. What you just said is all I’ve ever wanted. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that I love you, too and here you are, saying it first.”

You rolled your eyes, although your soul soared. You pulled away and took another bite of food.

“It’s not a competition, James.”

You said it through a full mouth.

“Hmmmm. Maybe not. But I do love you more.”

He took another, bigger bite of food and you shook your head at him.

“You are insufferable.”

Bucky grinned.

“Get used to it if you’re gonna be my girl.”

“Your girl? Oh?”

Bucky wiped his mouth, then picked you up and placed you on his lap.

“Y/N L/N. I love you. And I want to figure this thing out between us. I want you to be my girlfriend while I figure out how to be the best man for you. Then maybe… “

You stopped him with your finger on his lips.

“Listen. One step at a time, Jamie. I love you too, James Buchanan Barnes. You are the best man for me. My man. I’m along for the ride.”

Bucky kissed you, then stood up and threw you over his shoulder as he moved to his couch.

“Speaking of riding. There’s my list to attend to.”

You screamed and laughed as Bucky slapped your ass. 

——

Next part Here!

All feedback is golden, babies! Let me know how you feel. ✨

[r0-boat]

If we have demon lords rut here, how about some demon knot headcanons 👀 Like how they act when they got stuck deep inside (maybe when they are not even satisfied and want more than just got stuck together)

I'll do you one better. I'll just do dick headcannons; we all know what their dicks look like, but they're far too human for my taste, let's sprinkle in a little bit of demon dick shall we?

Five current lords

Lucifer/Satan/Mammon/Beelzebub/Leviathan Demon dick head cannons(with dildo pictures)

NSFW(duh) mdi

With massive help from @smallestapplin thank you so much!

These are just my head cannons only The pictures are just to use as a physical reference thank you and enjoy the dick!

Cw: monster fucker demon cock, monster cock, dildo pictures, ovipositors, eggs :).

Lucifer

The most 'normal-looking' penis. Has more length than girth. It's veiny and smooth as it arches upward to reach every single spot inside you with appointed tip that nuzzles against your deepest parts. With little bumps that make you arch your back when they slide against your velvet walls. When he had sex with you, this was his first time. You thought you were going to teach him how to pleasure you and be in control. To your surprise, He flips you over holding you down and fucking you like a running animal. Overcome with a feeling that he has never felt before: delicious and addictive. His cock trying desperately to overwhelm you so he could see those pretty tears.

Satan

Lots of smaller ridges, lots of texture. When he's inside you, oh boy, you'll feel him. And he'll fuck you till you're weeping little human hole remembers the shape and every ridge or bump on him. He is much thicker, especially on his blunt tip, which has bumps. All the better to make you cum with. Can you imagine, as he rails you, that rigid cock scraping against your tightening walls?

Mammon

Knotted. thick and long. Pussy destroyer 9999. With pulsing veins on his knot and thick ridges. Big enough to fill you full and stretch you out. Demon cocks have the ability to grow bigger than his is no exception. His blood swells with his knot he still determined to fuck you even with his knot locking you two together. Clawing your ass addicted to the feeling of He's knot getting squeezed by your walls.

Beelzebub

Long and strangely muscular, He's normal in girth, but his cock is slightly longer than the other Lord's. It looks normal yet almost alien However, you put your answer when it's close this cock grows pulsating. He still would deep against you, And then you feel it small round objects, firm yet squishy, going inside you before you get filled up with his cum. He smiles, giving you a shit-eating grin; He loves when His bed partners first feels how he cum how His cock contracts and fills them with his eggs. Work of surprise on their face is heavily addicting.

Leviathan

His human cock is a ruse. Using some kind of demon magic or potions to make both his cocks appear not only has one but more human, to maintain that perfect image in reality He not only has two dicks they are more tentacle like flexible and long reaching every inch inside you. When it's not enough to satisfy feeling you completely he tries to fill you with both of them.

They are firm flexible, slimy, and very sensitive.

[thisfeelslike-iykyk]

hiiii i have a request <33 maybe percy x daughter of dionysus reader?

drunk on love ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

percy jackson x daughter of dionysus!reader backtrack: “adventure player”, yao chen inspiration: you!

it wasn’t often that demigods at camp half-blood got to relax. you were usually all busy training and dying. but with all the chaos that had been happening recently, you thought you all deserved a break. besides, with the war brewing, you never knew when the last time you ever saw your friends would be. and it sucked to think about that, but it was reality.

so that’s why you and a few other campers were out here, in the middle of the forest, at night. nobody asked how you got the wine, or why it was even there. let’s just say you called in a couple favors with some hermes kids.

you reminded everyone to keep it down. the harpies usually patrolled the beach area, so the forest was generally safe, but you couldn’t take too many chances. to be completely honest, the party was kind of a ruse to get closer to your boyfriend. the two of you couldn’t be too comfortable with each other during the day, under the watchful eye of your dad, dionysus. you weren’t ashamed of percy, and all the campers--and chiron, you were pretty sure--knew you were together. but you weren’t willing to take a chance on your dad.

percy was looking fine as hell, and it was effortless too. his hair was messed up just a little, his smile practically lighting up the whole forest. he met your gaze from all the way across the clearing and smirked a little. you grinned and sent him a sly wink, raising a plastic cup to your lips and taking a sip of the red wine inside. some stray wine dripped from your lips, which you caught with your thumb and sucked off. not breaking eye contact, you quirked an eyebrow at your boyfriend, a little smirk on your face.

percy shook his head, running his hands through his hair. he made his way over to you, alcohol-free because he was responsible like that. (that was such a lie. you figured he just didn’t like alcohol because of his old stepdad and arch nemesis.)

“you’re killing me over here, [name],” percy said with a grin as he reached you. you grinned as he pushed you up against the nearest tree, hands going to your waist immediately. you wrapped your arms around him to hug him close to you, the near empty cup still clutched in your hands.

percy wasted no time in pressing his lips against yours. he tasted faintly of sea salt--he always did--and blue raspberry jolly ranchers. he was your most favorite flavor. you returned his kiss hungrily as his hand slipped under your shirt, gently rubbing circles on your warm skin.

if it was up to you, you would spend all day kissing your boyfriend. unfortunately, that wasn’t up to you. “perce, my dad could see,” you whispered, unconnecting your lips and forcing yourself to keep a clear mind.

“you’re not worried about him finding out about this whole party in general?” he returned in a low voice, tugging your hair teasingly.

“compared to him seeing you and I together? not really, actually.” dionysus would probably have a good laugh seeing this gathering. “he’d probably be proud of me. about the party.” you downed the rest of your wine in one gulp, savoring the taste. of course, being the daughter of the wine god had its perks, one being you could outdrink anybody.

“he hates me enough anyway,” percy muttered. “I swear, babe, you think we’re being all discreet, but he definitely knows. and I don’t have a problem with that, but he definitely knows. you should see the way he looks at me. I might get murdered in my sleep one of these days.”

“don’t say that,” you protested, rolling your eyes. “you’re too important to kill.”

“hmm,” he hummed dismissively, pressing his lips to yours again. “wanna get out of here?” he mumbled against your mouth.

“you know I do.” you held on to your cup--the dryads would never forgive you if you littered--and took percy’s hand in yours. the music and lights of the makeshift party were quickly left behind as percy led you to his cabin. there was always something eerie and lonely about poseidon’s cabin, but you were not about to bring your boyfriend into your cabin; castor and pollux were busy drinking at the party, but they could come back any time.

come dawn, you'd have to sneak out of cabin three. you couldn't risk being seen in percy's cabin--besides being against camp rules, that would cause such a scandal. but for now, you were okay with being a rulebreaker. and who could blame you? you were simply drunk on love.

I’m sorry this took so long to get out! I’ve been bombarded with schoolwork and am sick on top of that. also guys please don’t drink underage

divider by @saradika-graphics

taglist: @loveinalocket, @raysmayhem-72, @stars-tonight, @toooster

[nenoname]

Journal 3’s references to Stan

Post-Portal Ford

"How is it that I am back? It turns out that despite my warnings and possibility of global catastrophe, Stanley managed to re-activate the portal and bring me back to my home dimension. While his intentions might have been pure, he was just as careless bringing me back as he was knocking me through in the first place. He destroyed the portal in the process, risked endangering the entire fabric of reality, and even found himself the target of a federal manhunt by the U.S. governement (a logical progression from his days in the principal's office)."

"When I first saw him, I assumed I had once again found myself in an alternate parallel dimension! Gone was the stubborn mullet-haired, frostbitten vagabond who had pushed me into the portal many years earlier, replaced by a wrinkly carnival barker with my father's face, fez, and girdle.

I'd spent the last 30 years contemplating what I might do if I saw Stanley again. Would I even be able to look him in the eye after what he did? Would I apologize for shutting him out of my life?"

"As it turned out, instinct took over and I punched him right in the face. I feel kind of bad about that!

Face- Inherited Dad's nose and Mom's untrustworthy tongue.

Gut- I've spent the last 30 years keeping up an extensive exercise and diet regimen. Stanley... hasn't.

Suit- Dad's suit, which he gave me after graduation. He thought I'd wear it for my wedding. I thought I'd wear it to accept an award. Instead, Stanley has used it to trick tourists and sell key chains."

"Machinery- Operated my portal like a monkey pretending to be a mechanic. Half of the instruments are held together with duct tape.

Yes, despite the extra pounds and wrinkles, Stanley is still the irresponsible, shortcut-loving overgrown child I remember from the past. Most unbelievable: his first thought upon seeing me again was to expect a thank-you - a THANK YOU - after destroying my life!

Even worse, he spent the last 30 years avoiding the law by faking his own death, impersonating me, and scamming the local townsfolks with a moneymaking ruse so absurd it would even make my profit-loving father blush. Once a cheater, always a cheater. And it turns out he's become a fraud for a living. I nearly fainted when I saw what he had done to..."

[THE MYSTERY SHACK] "Unbelievable. Once a haven of scientific study, the cabin I built with my grant money has been transformed by Stanley over the years into a hokey freak show that mocks everything about the study of the paranormal!

Signage- There are legal disclaimers in almost-impossible-to-see fine print painted up and down nearly every entryway. It's a wonder Stanley hasn't been sued yet.:

“Walking around my old lab, I feel like a dead man’s ghost haunting a strange fun house mirror version of his past life, I resolve to take back my home and rebuild the life that Stanley has taken from me.”

“The strangest thing about [Soos] is his utter idolization of my brother Stanley.”

"At least there is some GOOD news: I am a great uncle! (Or "grunkle," as Stanley seems oddly insistent on saying.) Apparently, Sherman Pines's grandkods have been staying with Stanley for the summer. (It's hard to believe the parents would trust these kids with Stanley; they clearly thought he was ME!)"

[Mabel] "Shares the family sweet tooth. Diet seems to consist solely of items with the word ‘gummy’ in them. I will need to discuss nutrition with Stanley.”

[Dipper] “Observations: 1) Constantly sweating. Perhaps he takes after Stanley. (…) 4) Rank odor. Clearly hasn’t bathed recently. Stanley should never be put in charge of children!”

“It is just as I feared; apparently, Stanley’s reckless use of the machine overtaxed it and ripped a tear in the dimensional fabric- the same way an overheated oven might burn a hole in kitchen linoleum.”

“Containment dome- A home for the Rift. Admittedly, I was inspired by the snow globes in Stanley’s gift shop.”

“When I tried to share my burdens with my brother, he knocked me into the portal, separating me from my home for 30 years.”

“Stanley always mocked my love of [DD&MD], and even some of my college friends called it "Girlfriend Repellant.”“

"Well, the harm in showing the [infinity sided die] to Dipper turned out to be quite large. During one of our games, my hotheaded brother got his hands on it and accidentally conjured this jerk.”

“I’m proud to say that the Pines family was able to beat the wizard at his own game. Stan’s contribution was (of course) to cheat our way to victory.”

“Ironically, in the multiverse I’m just as wanted as Stanley! But my crimes had a noble purpose”

“Stan would have loved this place, but it just made me depressed. Although I had a good run in the Gambling Dimension, the dimensional bouncers ended up kicking me out for counting cards! What are the odds?”

“[The Oracle] looked deep into my eyes and said I had the face of the man who was destined to destroy Bill.”

[A Better World] “On this Earth, I was never pushed into the portal by Stan. On this Earth, my brother listened to me and took Journal 1 away from Gravity Falls.”

“I reentered the world of my youth to face a brother I had not seen in 30 years. My frustration was indescribable- once again, my brother’s actions had sabotaged everything I had ever worked toward.”

“To help Dipper understand, I borrowed Stanley’s car, and we drove until we reached the town border of Gravity Falls.”

“I suggested it would be a good time for Stan to take the kids on that road trip he’s been talking about while I puzzle over [the cracked Rift]”

Other sections: Pre-Portal, Post-Weirdmageddon, Lost Journal pages + Ford's letters

[ironunderstands]

Here’s my comparison of Acheron, Aventurine and Ratio that I made in 2.1 which I forgot to upload here lol, I would like you to know my thoughts then because OH BOY HAS THIS AGED WELL

Aventurine, Acheron, Ratio and what the Nihility means to them

(Inspired by a convo I had with @aoxizu on Tumblr!)

The ending scene of the 2.1 update (the one featuring the black hole) is perhaps one of my favorite in all of fiction. I genuinely adore the way it was done and what it says about both the characters and life itself. This game has THEMES and by god did they come through then. So, I want to go over why I love it so much, and why it’s such a vital moment for Acheron, Aventurine and Ratios characters.

First, some context. Prior to Aventurine’s and Acheron’s conversation, Aventurine was taking the riskiest gamble of his life. Prior to the confrontation between him, Acheron and the Astral Express, Aventurine set up a plan to try and get to the secret at the heart of Penacony, as well as provide a ruse for Topaz and Jade to do, well whatever they planned on doing, the ending scene says they came there to “harvest”, so in 2.2 I assume we will find out what exactly that entails.

In order for this plan to work, Aventurine needed his cornerstone and to trick Sunday, so pre-2.0 he went to Dr. Ratio to include him in this plan, and set up a fake betrayal to fool Sunday and allow him to keep the Aventurine stone, with the Jade and Topaz stones also being acquired pre-Penacony. We know this because of Aventurine’s conversation with Topaz post 1.4 Belabog mission in which he requests her help in Penacony, something which we didn’t get confirmation on whether or not she accepted until 2.1, in which it’s revealed that one of the Cornerstones in the box is Topaz, meaning when they got confiscated in 2.0 she had already accepted his offer (we can assume a similar situation for Jade). 

Essentially, everything had been going according to plan for IPC (even if Aventurine was absolutely not having a fun time during it), Ratio even says as much, stating that the IPC is pleased to hear of his death sentence, so that part of the confrontation was already predetermined. This leaves Aventurine with one final gamble, hoping the Astral Express and Acheron take the bait, and that they will try and stop him from destroying the entire dreamscape, which if Acheron acts on it, he could entire the true dreamscape to find the truth, as only an emanator could break through the power of the harmony. 

Luckily for Aventurine, the gamble pays off and Aventurine does indeed draw her blade, both stopping him and sending them both into another plane entirely, it’s there in which one if my favorite scenes in fiction ever occurs. 

You see, even if Aventurine planned this all from the start, he hasn’t exactly been having a fun time while doing it. Being sentenced to death and then slowly hallucinating on Harmony sh1t until the manifestations of your past self and your present doubt and insecurities come to haunt you isn’t exactly fun for anyone, especially Aventurine. 1) Because his backstory is horrifically tragic and being faced with a reminder that you will never feel secure or valued or truly happy would be enough to erode away the psyche of anyone 2) A version of himself which claims to be his future, but is more like a personification of how much Aventurine doubts and hates himself. It’s even more telling that this isn’t the first time he has talked to this version of him, in fact it saved his life several times, meaning one of Aventurine’s driving motivations is his own self loathing. 

A trait that on the surface you don’t think he would have, Aventurine plays the role of the confident, unflappable gambler who always wins, when in reality his other hand is under the table, clutching his chips for dear life (something I quite literally paraphrased from the game). 

Therefore, going into this conversation, Aventurine is more relieved than anything, yet another one of his gambles paid off, but now he will have to see how to go from there, and that’s when Acheron’s advice comes in. She’s not stupid, and immediately recognizes that he won (or at least got what she wanted), and that killing him is meaningless, it’s not his time yet. However, what Aventurine is really focused on is the fact that out of all the emanators he could have come across, the one he faces now is an emanator of nihility.

And well, in the face of overwhelming nihility, one’s own value comes into question yet again, and that’s something Aventurine doesn’t even need the aeon for to ask. So, he talks to Acheron, as IX isn’t exactly going to answer, but she might know. Now, I’m just going to lay out the dialogue (then explain it obviously) because it’s genuinely amazing. 

Aventurine starts out by asking Acheron if she is an emanator of nihility, and I find her response to be really interesting. She doesn’t view herself as someone chosen by IX, as nihilism (the feeling of meaningless) envelops everyone equally, but she has simply walked in their shadow longer, tainted on the feeling. This leads Aventurine to question if this is the end, as if life has lost all meaning, in the face of overwhelming nihility, would that mean he’s dead?

Luckily Acheron immediately disagrees, stating that this is merely a manifestation of IX, not the end (he’s not dead guys idk how anyone can think that). However Aventurine still questions if his death has been determined, but Acheron doesn’t promise it. She mulls over his plan and and Aventurine asks her why she thinks he did it, and Acheron believes it was to find a secret deeper than the dream “deaths: the Real Penacony. He wonders how she found out, and Acheron says it’s the trailblazer’s identity which allowed her (and Aventurine) to come to this conclusion (we don’t yet know how this happened for either of them yet, but 2.2 should give answers).

They continue, Aventurine reveals that he believes the barrier the family built using the power of the harmony was not just to keep death out but the nightmare that is the real dreamscape. That the Memory Zone is simply a vast island built atop a violent ocean with the barrier keeping whatever nightmarish secrets from washing ashore. In order to break through this barrier and find the real dreamscape, which is why he kept killing himself earlier in the dream, but to no  avail. When Sparkle gave him the hint, he realized it was referring to Firefly, someone who had seen the other side and survived it, even if she was unable to let others know if it. It wasn’t proof of the families wrongdoing, but it was suspicious enough for him to try and get Acheron to kill him, rather than try and find the Meme to recreate Firefly’s death. 

Acheron points out just how insane this plan was, that if he hadn’t gotten lucky and crossed path with her, it wouldn’t have succeeded. Then, she commends him for playing it perfectly, pitting her perfectly against him and creating a plan that would be beneficial for the IPC no matter what happened, as even if he dies that would be great leverage. However, Aventurine disagrees with that last point, he truly can’t guarantee the IPCs success or even his own survival, that if she hadn’t drawn her blade it would have all be pointless. 

She’s doesn’t let him continue along this line of thought, what-ifs are pointless and he earned his ticket to the dreamscape. What matters now is what happens next, and Acheron asks him if he can return from the abyss (Childe reference?), but more importantly, she questioned if he has ever wavered, as even a gamble as seemingly insane as the one Aventurine just did seems to have not shaken him (from her POV, we know how terrified Aven was but everyone else minus maybe Ratio does). 

Aventurine tells her perhaps the most fundamental aspect of his character; he gambles simply because he has no other choice, betting on everything because he has nothing else to lose. Acheron tells him to wake up from this “dream” (aka find the true dreamscape), and she presumably goes to leave.

However (and this is my favorite part of the scene), he asks her one more question before she leaves, thinking she might know the answer as a pathstrider of nihility, “Why are we born in this world if it’s just to die?”

Her response is the best possible way you could answer this question. Acheron is an emanator of nihility, but she doesn’t think life is meaningless. The feeling of emptiness and pointlessness envelops everyone equally and that’s exactly why the nihility is pointless. It doesn’t matter that nothing matters, and we aren’t born into this world just to die. 

Aventurine still worries though, after all if the dice of fate will always roll to the same conclusion, then destiny is predetermined, so why struggle? Why does it matter?

Her answer again is not one he would expect, but one that absolutely makes sense. Acheron says the answer has been with Aventurine throughout his entire life and journey on Penacony, and that he’s already somewhat realized it. Aventurine said himself that sleep is a rehearsal of death, but people aren’t ready to welcome death, which is why they sleep to get a taste of it. Sleep is much like death, a realm of unreality in which anything might be possible within the dreams that define its existence. Death itself is an unreality, and nobody truly knows what it’s like to die, but dreams are the closest we might ever get before the end. Like Acheron says, in a way, dreams are just a preparation for death, a practice before it can be welcomed. 

However, much like how dreams can contain anything, even if we cannot choose to experience them or not, life itself is full of choices, regardless of if the ending is determined or not. Acheron understands that there are an infinite amount of things people cannot change before the end, but there are choices you can make up until it. Death is inevitable, but the life you live before it isn’t. This is what the words in red mean, both here and in my opinion, in general. 

Acheron reminds the trailblazer to make the right choice when time comes for it, in our first meeting with her. However, I don’t think the path we choose matters, but rather the the fact that we chose at all. Now the next paragraph will include a minor discussion of 2.2 leaks, so skip to the next slide if you don’t want to hear it. 

Sunday is getting a bossfight in 2.2, and it’s highly theorized that he works/believes in Ena the Order, especially because it looks like it’s their hand he’s touching in that one animation of the bossfight. Now here’s the thing, Order as a concept Chooses For You. I think the trailblazer making a decision is the thing that will save them and the rest of the gang, as within the face of an entity defined by limiting choice and free will, choosing to well, choose will save them (us?) and perhaps be the thing that gets the trailblazer acknowledged by the Harmony, a concept greater than Order. 

Anyways, after she says that, Acheron leaves Aventurine, saying the answer to his question was from his friend.

And Aventurine pulls out the vial from Dr. Ratio

The vial telling him that the only impossible thing in the dreamscape is dormancy (meaning the secrets from before are destined to rise and destroy the “island” that is Penacony.

The vial telling him to stay alive and wishing him the best of luck, which in the Chinese version is: 

Ratio answered both of Aventurine’s questions. The physical one, the one that pertains to Aventurines goals in Penacony, informing him of a vital aspect of the dreamscape that will help him win his gamble. But more importantly, he also answered Aventurine’s emotional one. What is the point of living? There is no real deeper meaning but to stay alive, survive and keep on living, because at the end of the day, that’s the only choice Aventurine can make, and that’s the one Ratio wants him to make.

Ratio Gives Aventurine A Reason To Live. 

Aventurine says that he has nothing left, his family is gone and he has nobody and nothing to fall back on which is why he gambles. But Acheron proves him wrong, he isn’t alone, she calls Ratio his “friend”, says that he’s the solution to his doubt. Someone caring about Aventurine is what saves his life, he walks into the massive black hole unafraid not because he holds some secret power or technique or trick, but because someone cares about him, and that someone taught him that caring about himself is enough. Aventurine didn’t need the power of an emanator to survive the true dreamscape, he only needed a friend, and the will to keep going that he realized from them. 

This is the true meaning of nihility, not that  Aventurine says that he has nothing left, his family is gone and he has nobody and nothing to fall back on which is why he gambles. But Acheron proves him wrong, he isn’t alone, she calls Ratio his “friend”, says that he’s the solution to his doubt. Someone caring about Aventurine is what saves his life, he walks into the massive black hole unafraid not because he holds some secret power or technique or trick, but because someone cares about him, and that someone taught him that caring about himself is enough. Aventurine didn’t need the power of an emanator to survive the true dreamscape, he only needed a friend, and the will to keep going that he realized from them. the universe is meaningless, but that regardless of if it has one or not, it doesn’t matter. It’s this realization that saves Acheron from losing herself like other emanators, it’s this realization that allows Aventurine to cross the event horizon of that manifestation of IX, and it’s this realization that I believe is why Dr. Ratio was never acknowledged by Nous: he was already treading the path of nihility without even realizing it. 

Now this is where my conversation with @aoxizu comes in, and I’m just gonna paste directly what they said because I think it’s amazing and everyone should read it, more importantly it’s what inspired this slideshow in the first place.

Ratio tells Aventurine to live despite everything because that’s the only thing he can do. It doesn’t matter how absurd life is, or how meaningless it all seems, choose to live anyways, because all you have are choices, and it doesn’t matter if they lead to some grand outcome or future or whatnot. To Ratio, life doesn’t, and shouldn’t care about that. Existence doesn’t need to make sense to be worth it, and that’s a sentiment both me, the characters and the og poster share.

Acheron is a lot like Ratio, she chooses to live despite having discovered the meaninglessness of the universe. In an existence seemingly black and white she chooses to paint the world red with her choices, accepting its reality and choosing to forge her own path rather than succumb to the madness. That’s why she says in her trailer, “there is no other choice but to move forward” and that’s because there really is no other choice, the universe doesn’t have some grand plan for anyone and you can’t turn back time to change anything, so all you can do is move forward.

My contribution! I’ve already kinda started but I do want to talk about how Ratio could be treading the path of nihility, but I’ll let this amazing post finish.

So yeah, amazing post, and I don’t think I could reword what they said in a better way than they did. Bringing up the philosophical aspects of this scene makes me really happy because they are so prominent, but most people aren’t really aware enough to notice. Absurdism is one of the driving inspirations behind the dreamscape, and it’s nice to see someone else besides you (see: my slideshow about Penacony and its American influences for an elaboration on this) bring it up. Honestly I think that philosophy fits Ratio far better than any of the Ancient Greek stuff you try to slap on him. Sure he obviously has the inspirations, but he’s closer in spirit to philosophers from the 1700s to now than them, a reinterpretation of Greek scholars rather than a copy of them. 

And this is where my idea that Ratio is a pathstrider of nihility (and he doesn’t even know it yet) comes in. He doesn’t view knowledge in the same way that pathstriders of Erudition do; knowledge for knowledges sake has never been something Ratio has cared about. Knowledge means something to Ratio because it allows people to better themselves, not because it has some sort of inherent value. That’s why he’s so determined to spread it, he wants everyone to reach their fullest potential, and dedicates his life to doing so. Regardless of if the universe has meaning or not, that doesn’t mean people can’t try and live their best lives, and that’s the philosophy Ratio truly believes in.

Moreover, this is why it’s so meaningful that Ratio is the one to help Aventurine, he’s teaching him something Ratio himself learned long ago when he got rejected by the Genius Society. Despite all of Ratio’s intellect and qualifications, he will never be good enough for them because he simply doesn’t view knowledge in the way they do. But instead of this meaninglessness (nihility) consuming him, Ratio dedicated his life to doing what brought him meaning and validation rather than searching for some hidden answers from the universe (specifically Nous).

And it’s not like he just accepted it happily. Ratio still wants their acknowledgement, and it still hurt (and hurts) him a lot to not have it, which is why I think he unknowingly strides the path of nihility. To Ratio, his view on knowledge is simply how knowledge is, and the fact that Nous will never perceive it in that way because his philosophy is more nihilistic than it is erudite is something Ratio might never come to terms with. But that’s ok. The point is that it’s ok, Ratio doesn’t need to be acknowledged or to understand the truth of the universe to be happy or do well for himself. Our universe might mean nothing and yeah that can and will suck, but existence is more valuable than some grand cosmic plan, and even if you don’t realize it, choosing to live is enough.

Continually, this reminds me of the conversation Aventurine had with his hallucination self, in which he told real Aventurine that him and Ratio are very similar. In a way, they are, both struggling to find meaning in their lives, and Ratio helps Aventurine find meaning in his without really even knowing how. Sure the note was meant to keep Aventurine going, but Ratio caused Aventurine to come to a conclusion that probably won’t find Ratio for a while. He helped Aventurine overcome nihility without even knowing it, without Ratio even realizing that THAT is the thing he has been struggling with, and the path he has been walking the whole time.

I really hope we get to see Ratio again, and at the very least I want a story quest for him because I want to analyze his brain under a microscope. Him and Acheron need to meet asap I want more Ratio content idc if everyone else in the fandom hates him I love him and he’s my pookie bear and I will write 3039493494 things about him when it comes to me UGHHHH. Anyways I didn’t know how end this so this is the ending yaaayyy! I hope you liked it and if you have any thoughts let me know! 

_________________________________________

Og post over! That was a long ass read and past me was absolutely cooking up a storm, oh god did this age well and I was right about or close to right about a lot of shit haha. Anyways I really do hope you enjoyed reading this, and this will hopefully provide some needed context for my next posts on this subject. Also feel free to repost this onto other sites I’m very proud of it

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

OLD THREAD:

Divorce her. Present this to the court as Exhibit A. Anyone who talks like this, this is just the tip of the crazy iceberg.

Have you noticed that the people who insist that they won't be defined by other people always insist on defining everyone else? It doesn't matter if you "identify" as a Nazi or not, they'll declare you to be one. It's irrelevant whether you're a Democrat or a classical left liberal, they'll designate you "far right."

They have to force you to play along because their claims don't even make sense, much less stand up in reality. When "gender is a social construct" untethered from anything real such as biology, as with gods, it requires others to play along and pretend to keep up the ruse; when society doesn't prop it up, your "gender" disappears.

The only time you entertain the delusions of crazy people is in order to get away from them. Otherwise, you tell the truth: she's a woman. Narcissistic, coercive controlling and crazy-eyed, but still a woman.

[justmediocrewriting]

Luffy x Reader; maybe she steals away his hat and a huge chase ensues and she lured him to the marines bcs they made a deal that they’d relieve her village of their debt? Straw hats help her out ?? :)

Stealing Hats, Stealing Hearts {m.d.l}

Summary: when the captain of the Marines comes to you and offers your village’s freedom in exchange for luring and capturing the Straw Hat pirates, you thought it too good a deal to refuse. You were rather adept at conning, and you were sure stirring up a ruse good enough to lure the crew would be easy, but when you meet the infamous Straw Hat pirates, you can’t help but feel hesitation towards the mission, as they are the complete opposite of what you expected.

Genre: fluff(?), slight angst

Requested: ✅

Word Count: 4.9k

Pairing: Luffy x fem!reader

Warnings: themes of coercion, language, manipulation, canon-typical violence, strawhat shenanigans

A/n: this request was so much fun to write, thank you so much for blessing me with it anon! I know it took a while to get out, but I was so in love with the theme and scenario that I wanted to reflect it in the writing. I did my best to polish and refine it to the absolute best it could be. I truly hope everyone enjoys reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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To say you were nervous would be a major understatement.

You were shaking like a fucking leaf in your ratty boots because of your nervousness; when you’d accepted the request from the Marines, you hadn’t truly taken every detail into account. All you’d understood was that by doing this simple thing, your village would finally be free of their debt, and the Marines would gladly walk away from their post on the island. It sounded almost too good to be true, and now the reality of that was hitting you with a heavy impact.

You’d heard of the Straw Hat pirates; of course you had. They were vicious, unforgiving, brutal and animalistic — what they’d done in Orange Town was proof enough of that, not to mention the way they’d put down and hurt many Marines in Shells Town, all for a ratty slip of parchment. There were many rumors surrounding the crew, but you’d never given too much thought to their authenticity before — but now, staring straight at the Straw Hat pirates, in the flesh, you could believe every single one.

The one that made you the most nervous was the swordsman; the three katanas resting against his right hip were intimidating enough, but the glower on his face and the rippling athleticism that was potent beneath his clothes made for a rather frightening combination — it was one which you didn’t want to experience for yourself.

“No harm will come to you, girl,” Captain Akubi had promised you earlier that morning. “I will have Marines stationed everywhere to watch your every move; if things begin to get dicey, they will intercept.”

The captain’s promise had given you a small semblance of reassurance, but with knowing what the Straw Hats themselves were capable of, and seeing them in the flesh, you highly doubted any Marine here in the town would be strong enough to protect you should you incur their wrath — especially not against that swordsman. It was enough to almost send you running back to your decrepit shed with your tail between your legs.

But this was your home — and you had to protect it, at any cost. Even the cost of your own life at the hands of a vicious pirate group.

It was with this conviction that you’d raised from your seat and approached the table the pirates had chosen to occupy in the dingy tavern. Plates were scattered and piled across the surface of the table, and the captain, the one you’d recognized as Monkey D. Luffy from his wanted poster, was currently digging into a separate, still full, plate when you stopped feet from him.

You cleared your throat to catch his attention, but you truly weren’t prepared for the sheer depth he held within his chocolate eyes when he flicked them up to meet yours. Your breath stuttered momentarily as you were taken aback by just how attractive the man was, how the dim lighting sharpened every angle of his face, and not for the first time since you’d agreed to this mission trepidation clamped your gut; but this time, it wasn’t from fear, but rather a strange sort of nervousness tightening your throat and making it difficult for you to speak. You were aware of four other pairs of eyes on you, and your skin prickled uneasily.

“Yes?” The man asked, not impolitely, but rather loudly, and you wanted to shrink back as some of the clamor around the tavern settled down. Others were looking at you now.

You swallowed down every unpleasant feeling and crossed your arms over your chest, feigning a sense of confidence that you didn’t really possess.

“You’re pirates, aren’t you?” You asked accusingly, and the man’s face simply brightened, as if being recognized as a pirate somehow brought him happiness. He reached up and briefly resituated his hat atop his head, and when he spoke it was with an adorable little accent that left you feeling slightly weak in the knees.

“We are. We’re the Straw Hat pirates!”

You didn’t think it was possible, but when the man gestured to the other four occupants of the table, his features somehow lit up brighter than the sun, and you were slightly shocked. The man seemed so gentle, so kind, maybe even a bit naive and exuberant to a fault; how could a gangly, bright boy like this be the captain of a heartless, ruthless pirate crew? A slim glance to the other occupants left you feeling and thinking along the same lines — the swordsman was openly glowering at you, but his eyes were hardened in something akin to suspicion rather than blatant cruelty, and when your eyes met with the blond, well dressed man’s he sent you a charming smile that had you blushing slightly. The other man, a darker skinned boy with a bright smile and bandana wrapped around his head, gave you a shy wave, and the only woman of the crew, redheaded and simply beautiful, also smiled kindly.

Were these people really the Straw Hat pirates? They seemed… different, than what you’d heard.

“Are you really?” You couldn’t help but ask, and the man in the straw hat looked a little confused by your suspicion. He glanced over to his crew mates briefly before returning his eyes to you.

“Why do you sound as if you find that hard to believe?” He asked, and his tone was so genuinely curious and kind, and you found that you really liked the sound of it; for the first time since you’d started this mission, your muscles relaxed.

You thought you’d feel a lot more fear from the act of staring the captain of the Straw Hat pirates in the face, but for some reason, you just didn’t — instead, you felt genuinely baffled and curious.

“Because the Straw Hats are notoriously ruthless,” you stated, flicking your eyes briefly and suspiciously over the group. “You guys destroyed Orange Town.”

The redheaded woman who was previously smiling at you now narrowed her eyes, and when she spoke to you, her voice was lowered and full of venom.

“We saved Orange Town. Buggy and his band of bastards were the ones that destroyed it.”

It was clear that you were itching beneath the woman’s skin, and that was sort of what you wanted; it would be easier to draw them out if you angered them, and their emotions would blindside them and make them lousy to their surroundings. Ultimately, capture would be much easier if they were in that state; but part of you wanted to recoil from the sheer aggression in her tone, but the freedom of your village weighed heavily on your shoulders, and you forced yourself to stay strong.

“Even if I gave you the benefit of the doubt on that one, you still stormed the Marine base in Shells Town and slaughtered numerous innocent men.” You bit back, hoping beyond everything that your tone came out just as scathing as the woman’s had, and didn’t reflect the new wave of nervousness that had crashed over you.

The redhead didn’t react exactly in the way you expected, but she did roll her eyes in exasperation and sigh heavily. “We never killed anybody. Geez, just how many rumors have been flying around about us?”

“A lot,” you couldn’t help but say, and now the swordsman was no longer glaring, but the way he eyed you with a strange sort of intrigue made you somewhat prefer the glare.

“What kind of rumors?” He asked, and you nearly swallowed your own tongue. You narrowed your eyes at him and forced your tone to stay even.

“The bad kind. That’s why you aren’t welcome here.”

Now the captain spoke up again, and his words were filled with so much confusion that it made you feel a little guilty for your fib.

“But none of those rumors are true, so why would we be unwelcome?”

Now a genuine anger was curdling within your gut, the oppression and helplessness that your village had been subjected to over the many years boiling hot beneath your skin and muddying your usual stone-cold resolve.

“Because this village has dealt with enough, and the last thing we need is a ragtag group of lowlifes sullying it with their presence. Even if you aren’t what the rumors chalk you up to be, you’re still pirates, and that’s bad enough.” You didn’t have to force the way you scathed this time, and the anger beneath your skin burned just a little hotter when the man simply stared at you with no reaction to your insults — his eyes were narrowed, but not in irritation, and he was looking at you as if he were trying to read you, trying to reach into the very depths of your soul and figure you out from the inside out. It was making your skin crawl in ways that were simultaneously pleasant and unpleasant.

The man was silent for a long time, and when he finally did speak, his voice was lowered, but the volume did not alter the genuine curiosity or the cryptic-esque quality of it.

“What kind of pirates do you think we are?”

You blinked at him, momentarily baffled and caught off-guard. You worked your lips for a few seconds, but no sound escaped, because how were you supposed to answer that question?

Quite simply, actually.

“The only kind there is,” you stated bluntly, and when you tried to turn your glare onto the other occupants of the table, it fell from your eyes at the way they were looking at you. The woman’s expression was the worst; she looked sympathetic, and even a little understanding, and it confused it you to no end, but it also angered you. Why would they feel sympathy or understanding towards you? There was no reason; and even if there were, you wouldn’t want it from pirates.

“There’s more than one kind of pirate,” the man said, and this time, his voice was kind, almost wistful, and there was a strange sort of nostalgia dancing in his brown eyes, and you swore you could see a hint of distant admiration too.

Many different emotions were gnawing at your chest from this whole interaction; there was confusion, envy, intrigue, attraction, but most of all, there was anger. Anger that you had been put in the position to feel these emotions, that you were the one forced to bear the weight of the entire village, anger that these damn pirates weren’t falling for your tricks, that they didn’t even really seem perturbed by your words or opinions, that they were completely rewriting your entire view on them, and now you just wanted them to snap; to show their true colors, and then get thrown behind bars where they belonged.

It was with this impatience that you said and did what you did next.

“There is only one kind of pirate, and I can prove it.”

The man furrowed his dark brows in confusion for a total of a second, but his expression turned quickly to shock and anger when you reached forward and yanked his hat off with barely-concealed aggression. There was a soft snap noise that seemed to reverberate around the tavern when the strings below his chin broke apart from your roughness, and to you, it sounded less like a string snapping and more like the single shot fired into the sky to signal the drop of the guillotine at an execution; your execution.

Panic gripped your muscles as you stared into pools of swirling anger, and your adrenaline spiked, and before you could even grasp any coherent thoughts you turned on your heel and ran.

Chairs scraped behind you, and your heart thundered in sincere fear when multiple footfalls immediately pounded after you. You dodged multiple patrons, from sitting to standing, and beelined straight for the back of the tavern, the route that had been given to you somehow taped to the forefront of your mind instead of forgotten in your state of near panic.

He will definitely kill me if he catches me, was what was bouncing around your skull, pushing you further than even the thought of saving your village as you led the individual behind you on the invisible path, feet kicking up clouds of dust along the roads. Your breath felt frozen in your lungs, and your legs were already aching, but you knew what was at stake, and you’d be damned if you gave in to the pain and lost everything; it wouldn’t happen, not when you had already come so far.

You just narrowly avoided crashing into a woman as you crossed a rather busy road, receiving a multitude of insults and curses; your pursuer wasn’t as lucky, as you could hear gasps and shouts of indignation as well as stumbles and a small crash, and the distraction was enough for you to gain a few more feet on the man.

Just a few more turns, you thought as you whipped around the corner of the bakery, heart thundering even harder as you pursued gathered himself quickly and the pounding of his feet closed in. The warehouse is just a couple more meters this way.

You gripped the hat tightly in your hand as you ran, every shout and command to stop that reached your ears only propelling you forward, and before you knew it, you were banging open the large doors of the warehouse and skidding to a halt in the middle. The man’s footfalls entered not too long after, and a sense of dread filled your body as you whipped your eyes around the warehouse. It was empty, save for you and the man behind you. They were supposed to be here.

Did I go to the wrong one? You thought, chest heaving with large breaths as you tried to desperately search for the signature sea-blue of a Marine uniform. But there was none in sight, and your entire body froze when the man spoke up from behind you.

“Listen, lady. I don’t get what you’re doing, and I don’t know why you’re doing it, but it ends now. Give me my hat.”

Mustering up as much courage as you could manage you whipped around to face the man. He was standing just feet inside the warehouse, and his red vest and cropped jeans were covered in dust, and his shoulders dropped heavily with his panting. You were immensely relieved to find that he was the only one who’d followed you, but at the same time disappointed, because your goal was to capture all of the Straw Hat pirates. Would captain Akubi really be happy with just the captain? Said captain’s eyes were narrowed and his fists balled at his sides, but he made no move to attack you, and it drove your nerves up the wall.

Why was he hesitating?

As if reading your mind, the man spoke again. “I don’t want to fight you, so just give me my hat. Please.”

You hardly believed what your ears were hearing. Did a pirate just ask you to do something? That didn’t seem right. This was all too confusing; it was supposed to be simple, damn it! So why were you finding it so difficult?

You glanced around once more, and hope fluttered minutely in your chest when you caught movement just left of the pirate’s flank; it was a Marine, with a gun clutched in hand, and he was advancing on the man in front of you. With a shout he whipped the heel of his gun into the back of the man’s neck, and you watched with mixed feelings of relief and guilt as the man’s eyes snapped closed and he groaned as he crumpled to the floor of the warehouse.

“Very well done,” you recognized the husky voice as captain Akubi seconds before the man himself appeared at your side. His hands were clasped together in front of his thighs, and maybe at any other point in time, you’d feel pride at his praise, but at the moment you couldn’t feel anything of the sort. You kept your eyes glued to the man on the floor, who was groaning and attempting to rise to his feet, only to have the Marine behind him slam his gun against the back of his neck and bark an order to stay still.

“It’s only the captain here, but my men are rounding up the others as we speak. They were much easier to catch since they were separated. And it’s all thanks to you.”

Your skin crawled and you wanted to coil back from captain Akubi as he purred at you, his fingers slinking up to rub at your chin.

“Don’t touch me,” you nearly whispered, eyes still not leaving the sight before you, and your breath caught in your throat when the man raised his head, eyes locking with yours. They were wide, but there was no anger within them, just worry and plain confusion. Akubi sniffed once and tore his hand away with a click of his tongue.

“Well, go ahead and cuff him, men. Our business is done here.” Akubi ordered with a snap, and you startled when there was a shuffle of movement, and four more Marines fled from their hiding places within the warehouse, one with a pair of sea-prism handcuffs clasped in his hands.

The pirate was forced to his feet with his wrists bound behind him, and the metal clink of the cuffs locking sounded much louder than they truly were — the sound sent unpleasant shivers down your spine, but you refused to let yourself feel any guilt. These people were pirates, and their capture meant the freedom of your village, and you would never allow yourself to feel regret for doing what you had to.

But the man was making it extremely hard not to, what with those eyes blown wide and those lips slightly parted, looking at you as if he couldn’t believe you could truly do something like this. You had to tear your eyes away, or you might do something stupid; like attack captain Akubi and spell the end for your village, all for the release of some measly pirate who you knew nothing about; who was rumored to be heartless and aggressive.

But there was something in your gut, something screaming at you, telling you that this man just wasn’t that type of person, and every interaction you’d had with him thus far simply proved more and more truth to that ascertainment.

“Alright, men, time to head north. We will bring this miscreant and his crew to headquarters, and finally get the recognition we deserve.” Captain Akubi said, clapping his hands together gleefully. Your heart sunk as you stared at the man’s broad back as he approached the cuffed pirate, and you cleared your throat. Captain Akubi sighed heavily and barely turned to glance at you from around his shoulder.

“What is it?”

“My village. We have our freedom now, right? That was the deal. I honored my end. Will you honor yours?”

Your heart clenched and fell even further at the look of faux sympathy captain Akubi sent you.

“Oh, my dear, that’s really not in my power. But, given how well you did here, I will surely recommend it to headquarters.”

Anger and fear gripped your chest in alternating waves, and you stumbled forward with a splutter on your lips.

“That wasn’t what you told me! You said you would give us our freedom!”

The pirate currently held prisoner flicked his eyes between you and captain Akubi, his brows furrowing as he drank in your interaction with the man.

“I got you the Straw Hats. Now free my village, Akubi!” You demanded, and you nearly tumbled on your rear when the Marine captain turned completely on his heel and advanced on you in mere seconds, towering over you with a snarl on his lips. You winced when his hand whipped up and pain exploded across your jaw as he squeezed your cheeks with his hand.

“I am a Marine captain, and you will not give me orders. I have no obligation to honor your request, and there’s nothing you can do about that, so just pipe down and slink on back to your little ramshackle hut.” With that Akubi released your cheeks and pushed you back roughly, and now you really did fall to your rear, tears stinging at your eyes as you watched his retreating form.

“This isn’t fair,” you whispered through quivering lips, anger and helplessness wracking every nerve ending in your body. You balled your fist and slammed it down against the floor, not even wincing when pain bloomed through your palm. “This isn’t fair, Akubi!”

Akubi only laughed loudly and threw his shoulders up in a shrug. “Life isn’t fair, girlie. You’d better get used to it.”

“So you did this for your village,” the pirate said, and all eyes snapped to him. You expected to find anger or resentment, disbelief at the very least, etched into his face, but instead his lips were pulled into a small smile, and his eyes crinkled with what you could only identify as glee.

The look on his face was so soft, so happy, that it caused your throat to tighten, and you were unable to get any words out, so you simply nodded in affirmation. Why you were even engaging in this with the man, you didn’t know.

“I knew you weren’t bad.” The man said, and he sounded so confident, so sure, that it sent tingles up your spine, and you couldn’t help but preen under the praise. You were equal parts relieved and disappointed when the man tore his eyes from you and pointed a cheeky smile at captain Akubi.

“And now, I get to kick your ass, for terrorizing this village, hurting my friends, and for making her cry.”

Your heart swelled with conflicting emotions at the man’s words, and your cheeks warmed, but the feelings were dashed away when captain Akubi let out a condescending bark of laughter.

“You? You’re going to kick my ass? How do you figure?”

The man didn’t react, at least not with any of the reactions you would’ve; he just smiled even wider, and clicked his tongue.

“With my crew, of course.”

As if those words had simply summoned chaos, a multitude of noises broke out within the warehouse; grunts, groans, bangs, yells, curses, thwacking, thumping — and suddenly Captain Akubi was the only Marine standing, and all the others were on the floor, each clutching at a different part of their body, or nursing a different wound. Seeing them on the floor, and captain Akubi’s speechless gape, filled you with such happiness and satisfaction that you were nearly buzzing beneath your skin. Warmth bloomed in your chest when the redhead swam into your view and offered you her hand.

Despite your earlier aggressive interaction with the woman, you were happy to clasp her hand and heave yourself to your feet with her help. She gave you a smile, and you smiled back. While still gripping your hand, she said, “I’m Nami.”

“(Y/N).” You responded curtly, feeling a little guilty for the things you’d said to her previously. She genuinely seemed nice; they all did.

“Okay, captain guy, what’s it gonna be? Surrender or fight?” That cute accent pulled your eyes like a magnet to the owner, and you felt your skin heat at just how good he looked; now that there was more light, you could see his features more easily, and he was damn attractive. And that accent definitely complimented it. The others were there, too. The swordsman was standing beside his captain, two swords drawn at the ready — and the blond man was currently lighting a cigarette as he stood above a couple of groaning Marines.

The woman beside you, Nami, rubbed a hand against your bicep, and you turned to give her a soft, grateful, if not confused, smile.

“We heard about it from the villagers. When we broke free from the Marines, the villagers explained everything. And when we got here, we heard what the dingleshit said to you. We’re on your side.”

Warmth bloomed completely through your body at her statement; part of you couldn’t truly believe that these pirates were actually going to help you, that they even wanted to, and part of you wanted to reject the help. It was what you were used to, after all. The Marines had taken over your village years ago, and the rest of the village was far too scared to stand up to them. Your rebellion against them was done in secret for the longest time, and as the years went by, you began to lose hope; up until captain Akubi had offered you this exchange. If only you had been able to see it for what it truly was — a lie.

“You’re under arrest by order of the Marines!” Akubi growled, but his voice was a bit shaky, and when you glanced at him, you felt another zing of satisfaction at the trace of fear on his face.

The man, no, Luffy, brought his hands (which you now noticed were free of their restraints) up and cracked his knuckles. His tongue darted out to briefly swipe his lip, and when he drew his arm back, your eyes nearly bugged out of your head when it stretched back yards. It slung forward with a speedy velocity as Luffy yelled “Gum Gum Pistol!”, and when his knuckles made impact with captain Akubi’s face, the cracking result was nearly deafening.

Captain Akubi flew past you to the end of the warehouse, the wall shaking as his back made contact, and when he slid down his shoulders slumped; out cold. Luffy huffed out a snort and his hand returned to his body with a snap, causing him to stumble slightly.

Silence fell over the warehouse, the only interruptions being scraps of the wall tumbling to the floor and the grumbling and groaning of Marines. You stared around the warehouse with wide eyes, and when they traveled back to look at Luffy, you flushed when you made direct eye contact with the man.

Luffy smiled brightly at you, dazzling and so, so breathtaking, and your heart leapt into your throat when he crossed the distance between you two and offered his hand.

“I’m Monkey D. Luffy, and I’m going to be King of the Pirates. I also want you to join my crew.”

You nearly choked on your own spit, and doubled over as coughs wracked your body. Tears stung in your eyes when your coughing ceased and you glanced up at Luffy disbelievingly.

“You what?” You croaked out, and Luffy, completely unperturbed by your blatant confusion and shell shock.

“I want you to join my crew. You’re brave and you can run really fast, and you sacrificed yourself for your village. You’re a good person. Just the kind of person I want on my crew. I would love to sail with you and find the One Piece.”

Your entire body flushed at his close proximity and compliments, but then what he said registered, and you couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.

“Wait, you really think the One Piece is real?” You asked, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. Luffy’s smile didn’t dim one bit, and he nodded.

“Of course I do. And you will, too. Once we find it. So, come on.”

You shook your head and bit your lip. “Look, Luffy, thank you. For what you did here. I can never repay you for it. But… I can’t join you. The life of a pirate just isn’t the life for me.”

A shock of yellow caught your eye when you glanced down, and with a start you realized you were still clutching Luffy’s hat. Hurriedly, you shoved it into Luffy’s chest and released it before pulling your hand back as if it had been burned. Luffy had to fumble a bit to catch it before it fell to the floor.

“And, um, I’m sorry about taking your hat. And… for breaking it.” You avoided Luffy’s eyes as you mumbled bashfully, but even without directly looking at him, the bright warmth of his smile was still blinding.

“If you really want to say sorry, or repay me, just join my crew.” Luffy said, still offering you a place on his ship, and it was truly mind boggling to you, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes.

“I’m serious. I can’t join you. I belong here, and I’m not interested in life at sea; I wouldn’t be a very good pirate. I… I also don’t know what captain Akubi would do to the village. We still aren’t free, even if you knocked him out.”

At that, Luffy’s smile did fall a bit, but he didn’t frown.

“I understand, (Y/N). But… maybe once you’ve gotten everything settled in your village, you could think about it?”

At that, you finally met Luffy’s eyes, and you were rendered speechless by the pure hope you found there. There were other emotions there too; interest, eagerness, and something soft, something that made your heart constrict and your skin burn. Suddenly, you wondered about what it would be like to have a life at sea with this man — to see him every day, to be a part of every adventure, to grow close to him and know him.

To know every Straw Hat member for who they truly were, and not who the rumors said they were.

You glanced around at the other members of the infamous Straw Hat crew, and with a small smile, you murmured,

“I’ll think about it.”

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A/N: tbh I’m not sure about this ending, but I hope it was good enough for y’all. The next request I’m working on right now is a Sanji request, so be on the lookout for that! Thank you so much for reading!! ❤️❤️

[hells-wasabii]

hey,i LOVE your work! Can i request a Lute (hazbin hotel) x gn!reader who is Adam's sibling and how she's slowly falling for reader. It's okay if u don't wanna do it,but incase u do please tag me ♡

AN: Sooooo, I messed this request up. I wrote the headcanons in my google doc and finished them in one sitting so i didn't exactly cross reference the ask, and I wrote general relationship hc for lute x reader who's adam's sibling. Don't worry though, I'm not gonna let this fumble go to waste, I'll go ahead and post a full set of HC now and a Drabble that I’m working on for it at a later date.

Character: Lute

Type: Headcanons (Lute x reader who is Adam’s sibling, Fluff)

When Lute initially met you, she didn’t exactly know that you and Adam were siblings. You had come along to the exorcist training grounds for some reason or another dealing with Adam, and Lute had initially thought you were lost. It's not until the first man makes an appearance that she connects the dots. Up until that point, she didn’t even know he had a sibling

She’s surprised at how different you are from Adam. Where the first man was crass, you… let's face it, even if you have a higher level of maturity than your brother, you’re still his sibling. Do with that as you will.

After the initial meeting, the two of you saw each other more and more often. It really didn’t take long for the two of you to get closer, and eventually get together.

Of course, Adam finding out about the two of you is inevitable. How long it took for him to figure it out though is kind of up in the air. He can teeter between pretty dense to super observant. Or the two of you could even beat him to the punch and tell him yourselves. After the initial shock he wouldn’t really care, though after you leave, he pulls Lute to the side and super casually threatens her, ‘ya know blah blah blah hurt them and you’re out of the band’

The other exorcists are sure to talk, too. The most popular rumor amongst them had been that Lute was merely with you to gain favor with Adam. Another was that Lute had simply gotten tired of a (non-existent)romance with Adam and moved on to his sibling. Both Adam and Lute were quick to put a stop to that one.

With you having been around since the beginning of humanity like Adam, she finds it easier to ask about the garden, Adam is a little more bitter about it and won't go into details as a result, and when he does, it’s usually about events that centered around him. From you, she would get to learn about events that texts never went into. Though in reality, it was partially a ruse for her to be able to listen to you speak so fondly of your time on earth.

Assuming you’re just as strong of an angel as Adam is, you’ll be a constant sparring partner for the lieutenant. None of the other exorcists are a match for her ruthlessness in battle, but you had the power to keep up. You could present a challenge and by god did that give Lute a thrill she hadn’t realized she needed.

[mikoyamisheadcanonblog]

Hi! I'm a huge fan of One Piece and I was wondering (if it's possible) that you can write Yandere HCs for the admirals? I'm a big admiral fan. Thanks!

OMG of course no problem. This is the second time I got requested to write the admirals it is such a fun concept and difficult characters to write, I hope I did them justice for you

Ex Admirals

☀️Borsalino (Kizaru)☀️

☀️When he first meets his S/O he seems uninterested in them but in reality, he is studying them and watching them. He sees what his S/O is interested in and lures them slowly to him as he finally gains control over them.

☀️He is more passive with his S/O but that is all a ruse for his S/O to feel more comfortable with him. Let them wander around on the island shop but little does his S/O know he is in complete control of the people his S/O talks to, to where his S/O goes.

☀️He will watch his S/O from a safe distance, sitting on the roof watching them as they chat with someone and making sure the conversation is what he had ordered.

☀️He will train his S/O if they listen and don’t wander too far or stick to the route, he has planned for them he will give them gifts and praises but if they don’t listen to him and talk to someone they aren’t supposed to. He will give them cruel silence and indifference till his S/O comes to him.

☀️If his S/O is in danger or unhappy with someone he will capture said person and punish them. Using his power and influence to torture them and such and using the said person’s family and friends till they understood his power.

☄️Issho (Fujitora)☄️

☄️He first gets interested in his S/O seeing the kindness they have, when their first reaction is to help him when he drops his cane or helping out someone. He starts getting vastly interested in his S/O playing the helpless man.

☄️He starts getting more invested and interested in his S/O the more they are around him and will play the helpless blind man whenever his S/O starts to wander off. He doesn’t like his S/O wandering too far from him as there are dangerous crooks and pirates out there who would take advantage of their kindness.

☄️While he wouldn’t hurt anyone as he does value human life, he isn’t against manipulating his S/O to stay close to him. Or anyone else to keep away from his S/O as his. He is so charming that a lot of innocent people will fall for his charm and help manipulate his S/O.

☄️He never lets off on the innocent blind man. As he holds his S/O to him and never allows them to leave his side. It does come off as a surprise when his S/O finds out how powerful he is it would be already to late for his S/O to get away as everyone around him would manipulate them to stay with Issho.

☄️While he wouldn’t hurt his S/O or innocent it doesn’t mean pirates and other crooks would get his generosity. He is much harsher to pirates that dare hurt his S/O giving them a full extent of his Devil Fruits ability.

🌳Aramaki (Ryokugyu)🌳

🌳He gets obsessed with his S/O  the first time they meet. It could be his S/O said a certain praise he really enjoyed or how his S/O looks either way his S/O is now very interested in them and he will do everything in his power to capture their heart.

🌳At first he is a bit charming if not a little rude and crude with his words insulting his S/O and belittling them but also belittling people around them and giving himself praises so his S/O understands that he is giving them attention that is what makes them special.

🌳If his S/O isn’t impressed with him, he will put his S/O in danger so he can save them and as a form of gratitude, he would demand his S/O stays with him and go on a date and once again he will turn on the charm till his S/O finally does give in and gives him their heart.

🌳He becomes a bit controlling with his S/O wanting them to have the same practices as him but if his S/O can’t live up to them. He will just have them in his presence all the time even on dangerous missions he will have his S/O tied up and on the side thanks to his Devil Fruit, so his S/O isn’t in danger but he also knows where they are at.

🌳If his S/O thinks about getting away from him or asks anyone for help there will be consequences for their actions and those who do help. He loves his S/O and will do everything in his power to keep them by his side even using his Devil Fruit to keep them up tied up tree branches and roots and always be by his side.

[fourthwifematerial]

garden of forking paths | 四 | part i. guilty

yandere lord tengen x fourth wife, eiji. word count: 7,077. explicit content. 18+ MDNI >>

man proposes, heaven disposes.

please be mindful of the ample warnings as we're all responsible for curating our own fandom experience✌️ this chapter contains ultimatums & coercion of an intimate nature, deception, forced marriage, dubious consent on all fronts, foreplay, degradation, consummation & deflowering, forced orgasms, self harm (not in the way you might be thinking) & scarification, nonsexual voyeurism, an off screen rape & accompanying aftermath, murder, threats of suicide, and a very apologetic author for taking on another behemoth when she still has works in progress

She’s never worn a piece so fine as her sister’s wedding kimono. 

Bathed in white, the shiromuku settles heavily on her body and soul… A chilling wave passes through her as she stares herself down in the mirror. Crown to cunt, settling deep in her gut. Her nerves are at a fever pitch, threatening to boil over and lash out at any moment.

She hardly recognizes the woman staring back at her. Hardly an easy feat for one such as Eiji. The heavens saw fit to bring flesh to her reflection, one she was forced to protect their whole lives.

On their worst days, Emiko was more her charge than blood. A painful reality for the younger of the two. Years spent in her shadow, ready to strike those that would see her harmed. For flowers so lovely as the twins, it was ugly work in the Red Light District.

No. Her looks were always a matter of contempt rather than ignorance. The bride is abundantly aware of what she looks like.

The palette, however, is new.

A traditional visage for a traditional bride. Something the girls at the brothels were never granted beyond the realm of a marriage born from ashinuke or a buyout.

She couldn’t give into the temptation to touch. She wouldn’t risk damaging the canvas, eyes and lips painted as they were.

There was little need for it before all this. It wasn’t something she ever envied or missed. The closest she came to seeing herself with a full face was her sister. 

Still. Not a trace of either sibling in the looking glass.

Eiji has never looked so beautiful. Nor as frightened.

Even through the beads of sweat lining her temples, she was grateful for the katsura wig concealing her sparse hairs. Remnants of her days in the Sisterhood, her cut had yet to grow past her ears. Her keeper was generous enough to postpone the marriage until after their wounds had healed.

It wouldn’t do for the ruse to end on such a glaring oversight. 

The pins adorning the piece look costly. Too extravagant for one as modest as Sister Eiji. Hazarding a guess, it looked to be worth more than a month’s wages at the brothel.

Cocking her head to the side, her eyes catch on the embroidered flowers that rest upon the uchikake. The sharp angles and thorns give birth to a dangerous suggestion.

“Not enough…”

She gives voice to the intrusive thought before thinking better of it. Seppuku is on the girl’s mind, though she’s not fool enough to follow through. Would that she could and spare herself the devastation of this whole affair.

A delicate touch presses on her shoulder. It’s soft, but there’s an edge… as if the owner doesn’t have the strength for a proper scolding.

“Remember what this is for,” breathes a hushed voice of admonishment. “If I’m to marry him, I’ll never forgive you.”

Standing vigil is her better half. Wrapped in more fabrics than she’s accustomed; her kimono a muted black, with what little she has left of her once prized locs concealed under a zukin. The wimple is an unassuming periwinkle. Nearly so blue as the virgin snow.

While Eiji might dance with the idea, Emiko has every intention of bedding it. Neither sister needs the reminder… 

Even once more and I’ll die. By my own hand if need be.

The threat lingers unspoken between them. Emiko draws back her hand, holding the wataboshi with a white knuckled grip to match. Placing the bridal hood upon her sister’s head, she collects herself with a sniff. 

They meet each other’s gazes in the mirror, color on their lids nearly matching at this point. While one wore rouge, the other bore far less intent. Her eyes are red rimmed from endless days and nights spent sobbing. The anger and resentment, the fear, the loathing—it’ll end her life before the blade has a chance to. 

Placing the bridal hood upon her sister’s head, Emiko nods in approval.

“You’re ready.” Her voice is broken, still shot from the fight. 

Drying the twin tracks running down her cheeks, she lets her go.

No processional. No one to give her away. No tears in tribute.

She doesn’t even see their betrothed until the purification rites. 

For as taboo as it sounds, she doesn’t consider Lord Uzui to be her husband. All the same, she’ll take her sister’s place as his lady wife. She has no choice, not if she wants to keep her alive and unmolested.

It’s all she can do to keep her sister in her prayers as she draws water into the chouyuza’s ladle, washing their sins clean. Twice, in as many hishaku, before rinsing her mouth with a third.

Uzui works himself over in silent tandem. Much as she’s loath to admit it, his refined montsuki haori and golden hakama make the man striking… gorgeous, even. His starlight hair was worn up when last she saw him. And now it rests, barely grazing his broad shoulders. 

This is the closest she’s been to someone of the opposite sex who wasn’t a client. He hardly made a favorable impression to start. She didn’t know him well enough now to gauge his intent. Whether she’s walking into a den of wolves or a field of rabbits strikes her as a mystery she wouldn’t solve until he was already inside her, she’s sure of it.

Their union is a somber affair before the Shinto priest. Intimate. Tense. Almost severe.

The priest gives the blessings. 

With the marriage announcement, Uzui bows where they stand. She realizes too late that she missed the prayers in favor of the mounting anxieties taking root. Nudging her out of her daze, she follows suit. Muscle memory and a lifetime of obedience takes her hand and guides the path before her. 

The saké teases her lips and she finds herself tempted to drink before long. It’s not until passing off the small and medium cup that they are permitted to imbibe. She focuses on her throat, still burning from the alcohol as they move on to the rings. It keeps her present of mind enough to fulfill the task she’s been charged with.

A ring is slid on her finger. His handling isn’t rough with her but he’s hardly gentle. When she does the same, she notes the calluses on his battle-worn hands—a testament to his years spent honing his skills in combat.

The warmth throws her. She stills beneath his touch… Even worse when he’s cast his garnet gaze on her like that. With that smile on his lips, he almost looks fond. He turns her hand over and gives her wrist a small caress, far more tender than he’d been with the rings.

She has the grace to blush. The watashobi only allows her so much coverage from his prying eyes, so she takes advantage where she can. His vows barely register. When it’s her turn, her voice is a hollow echo of the priest’s dictation.

“I will marry this man,” he says.

“I will marry this man.”

“No matter what may come, I will love him, console him, help him. Until death.” 

“No matter… No matter what may come, I will love him. Console him. Help him… Until death.”

“These things, I swear.”

“These things… I swear.”

The shrine maiden presents twin Sakaki branches to the couple. In turn, they place the branches upon the altar. Together they bow twice and clap in quick succession. 

With the stinging of her palms and roar of her ears, it’s over.

It’s finally over.

In every other respect, this is only the beginning.

There was before Tengen… and after.

In another life, she might have been simple… a simple girl of simple means, grown into a simple woman.

What bliss.

No simple girl would ever endure the hand fate had dealt her. They’d never even know it’s touch, let alone see the blow coming.

Back when Eiji had a purpose, she was a nun.

Her mandate was as simple as things went for her. Find your sister, they told her. Find her, mind her. The task proved easier said than done for an Oiran in the brothels of Yoshiwara.

No. If she was anything like the girls to grow up not knowing any better, she’d have thought it a heavenly night. 

The scene was a deep wash of cerulean and coal; falling snow aglow with what moonlight peered behind the kawara roof. A contoured edge ran crisp over the engawa, shadows and flakes stopping in tandem before she could so much as wet her feet.

It was the tenderest mercy she would be afforded in a place such as this.

The languid stream of smoke bled from her lips, too soon to think over another drag as she set her gaze on the abyssal sky.

Her brows furrowed, eyes pleading the heavens for intervention when she couldn’t will the tragic whimpers and panicked groans from breaching the walls.

The only warmth known to her was the burn between her fingers and the fury in her veins, neither poison more bitter than the last. 

If her lungs didn’t fail her, it was bound to be her heart.

After a terribly violent gasp, Eiji tossed the remains of her cigarillo into the mounting snow, the pressing need for quiet far surpassing any desire for escapism. Flush palms ran over the veil concealing her ears. 

Enmeshed in a deathbed of white, the snuffed out embers found themselves buried under the fresh flakes. 

“Stop it.” A whispered bid—painful as it was fruitless. She broke on the words, knowing they’d never reach the bedroom. “Put her out of her misery, damn you.”

If that fucker didn’t come soon, she was going to have to finish the job. Tear the stuck pig limb from limb, out of the frying pan and into the fires of Hell. He would bleed for this.

She wouldn’t betray her vows. She only sought to avenge her sister’s rape. Nothing more, nothing less.

You can’t afford to fall apart. You know she can feel you. You have to be strong for her.

And before she could make good on that promise, there was nothing. Not a breath, not a sound.

The silence was deafening and nearly so oppressive as the screams.

The divine stall, dutifully prostrate before the raging tempest. 

Any relief felt was dead on arrival. She knew better than to get comfortable. Her shoulders were still wound tight as a bow primed for the shot. Tense and waiting. 

Rooms away, Eiji could hear the pleas so viscerally… 

“Eiji—” she cried, her voice a death rattle that cut to the marrow. “Sister… Help me.”

                                 a crash in the distance.

                                 a whisper of fabric on the 

                                 wind. 

                                 the final screams to prelude              

                                 disaster.

The shoji was barely ajar before she’d pushed her way inside. She rushed past the hall of incredulous voyeurs, all with the same questions on their minds and lips.

She didn’t even know where they’d put her tonight. She had to follow the commotion like a dog after a vendor in the streets.

Desperate. Near rabid with its goal to fulfill. Out for blood.

If she centered herself, she could be by her side in an instant.

But her mind was racing. She had no time, no focus. All of her being narrowed on the sole objective of leaving this place for good.

Ashinuke beckoned with an outstretched palm whose finger curled so seductively, there was no need to ask twice.

The door flew open with a shout, “Emiko!”

She surveyed the room. Save the cowering fuck in the corner, it was a barren sight.

Dragging him by the collar of his disheveled robe, she hauled his sweating hull from the ground.

“Tell me where they took her,” she demanded. “I’ll gut you, I swear it.”

He shook beneath her. When the night air kissed the tracks on her cheeks, she didn’t have to look hard. There was a gaping hole in the screen of the shoji, ushering the cold inside.

You cried for me… 

She shook the memory, focusing solely on the path ahead of her. Her entire world fixated on what little she could see from outside the door; a mere pinprick of vision in that busted screen. All she was able to manage were the snapping swords of some third party who’d entered the fray.

The pig squealed, fear coursing through him at the prospect of a fight.

“Useless,” she spat.

Blood came when the words failed him. The blade from her sleeve made fast work of disposing his filth without preamble or mercy.

                                       sank into his ear… 

                                       pull out game for

                                       the gods.

                                       …dragged across 

                                       his throat.

He slumped pitifully at her feet, exsanguinating below her turning frame. She was already following after the chaos—dried her tears and righted the cloth just under her eyes.

The body was still warm as she made for the biting cold.

Eiji sullied the courtyard’s pristine canvas. She ran as fast as her feet could carry her. Didn’t make it very far in the dark; someone flew overhead, missing her entirely. 

What should have urged her all the more only brought her to her knees.

She couldn’t afford to falter like this, not when the wager was her sister’s life. 

“No one’s after you,” she muttered to herself. “There’s no time for this… Get up.”

She had to press on. So why couldn’t she move?

Eiji refused to give way to the fear. Surveying the perimeter, there was little to be done and less to be seen.

It had to be now.

Closing her eyes, she leveled her breath. Slow. Deliberate. 

She emptied her lungs with a hiss in her throat and put her all into seeking Emiko out.

With the rolling of her stomach subsided, she picked herself off the street. 

Nails bit crescent moons into the meat of her palms, arms trailing behind her as she took off into the direction she foresaw. 

She felt her. She saw her in mind’s eye. 

Smelled the cracked wood in the air. Burnt, not yet ablaze. 

Blood… so much blood.

Eiji found her before too long, limbs akimbo under the caved-in front of a vacant business.

Her sister wasn’t alone. Shock coursed through her as she took it all in.

Three women crowded the body. One at her head, keeping her still, as the others made quiet work of removing the debris from her broken form.

She didn’t have to turn to know they were less alone than the moments that had passed. “Is she dead?” The man asked, feckless to a fault.

He was an eager one, wasn’t he. If this had been out of character for the man, if he’d been a stranger to them… surely they would have reacted.

The smallest among the women only threw herself at him with tears in her eyes.

“Lord Tengen,” she sobbed. “We couldn’t find the lair. I’m so sorry.”

He nodded towards Emiko, his eyes never straying from her unconscious frame. “And the girl?”

“An Oiran.” The name fell from Eiji’s lips with the ease and vitriol of a curse, “Kyogoku House.”

Every stranger encountered this night turned to her, suddenly occurring to them she was worth acknowledging at all. Turned on her just as quickly.

“Kakushi are meant to be seen… not heard,” he warned with a snap, all bitterness.

An incredulous echo fell from her lips, “Kakushi?”

He pinned her down, swiftly and effectively cutting the indignant echo from the root.

“Now what did I just say.” 

The man towering over wasn’t asking, not remotely. He looked at her nearly expectant, all but daring her for a response.

Thick arms neutralized the struggle, pressing into her to drive the point home. Voice lowered in tandem with his head, the words in her ears enough to fill her gut with coal. 

“If you’re going to interrupt, at least make it worth my while. Might just be tempted to take matters into my own hands and modify the offense.”

“Don’t. Please… stop. You can’t touch her. Please don’t touch her.”

Eyes fell shut as she laid witness to the swan song rasping from her sister’s bruised lips. 

Tears streamed, hot and itching. Time slowed to a crawl. “Emiko. Forget about me,” she bade. “You have to save your strength.”

Gravel dug into her cheek the rougher he forced her down. A hitch in her breath. Eiji kept her gaze fixed ahead, locked on the carnage. 

The women on assist weren’t concerned with lowering their voices. 

“The hell’s a nun doing in the Red Light District?” 

“You can’t say that in front of her, idiot.”

She burned under the heat of their scrutiny. Even more as his touch grazed her prone form, searching for weapons. It seemed he’d been blessed with brains to match his brawn and beauty after all.

“You’ve got red on you,” he noted. “You must have seen something.”

“Not my blood.” The words ran cold on her tongue. Near metallic as the blood staining her veil. “He’s dead now.”

“And the demon spared you after it fed?”

“Sir, there was no demon.”

He turned her over. Crouched over her thighs, urging her to continue.

“Patron. Something took her and he was a shit witness. I eliminated my sister’s rapist. If you have complaints, I suggest you keep them to yourself.”

“Eliminated, huh?” He pressed, incredulous. His eyes returned to the women tending to Emiko’s injuries. “Don’t suppose she’s one of ours?”

His aubergine companion spoke with unbidden ease. “Lord Tengen.” A pressing gentleness, as if shepherding apoplectic cats in their twilight years rather than the man straddling her. “In polite society, there are certainly ways to extract such information.” 

He eyed her beneath his rippling thighs. Considered the account she’d woven for him. “You really don’t know anything?”

“If I knew what you were talking about, I’d tell you.” She met his gaze, beseeching. “Please, just help my sister. Kill me for my crime if you must, but please… She needs to leave this place.”

When the weight on her thighs was suddenly relieved, she had little time to breathe. He loomed over her, making fast work of tossing her over his shoulder.

“Don’t go getting too dramatic on me, Sister. Isn’t blind faith supposed to be your thing?” He gave her backside a condescending slap before taking off.

Too burnt out from the fight to argue, she merely allowed herself to be lulled by his hellish pace.

She hadn’t slept in so long. The push and pull of the jostle took her back to that day.

Fractured memories of the shore. She was no more than a child then. Now a woman grown, the bitter cold kissed her cheeks.

She looked out on the water’s edge. The drag of the waves. The crash as they touched back down.

Walking into the sea, she collapsed. Falling onto her knees, the water soaked her kimono. She abandoned her zukin, letting the habit drift away. When she looked down, there was an isolated pool of blood.

Her eyes widened, hands shaking as she dragged her touch underneath. The source of the bleed was heavy. She pulled desperately, fighting the mounting tide and her own limitations. 

When it breached the surface, she was loathed to lose her grip.

She knew that face. She wore that face. 

Realization dawned on her and she was all the more desperate to retrieve what the watery grave that saw to claim from her. 

Limp in her arms. On death’s door, if she hadn’t crossed the Sanzu River already. When she opened her eyes, they were worse than void—they were dead.

Eiji woke with a start, her own eyes locked on the ceiling of the infirmary with a scream locked in her throat.

The medical wing remained so unclouded, so quiet, there was a small part of her that considered she might be dead already.

Eyes blinking into consciousness, she wondered to herself how everything got so fucked.

“The prodigal daughter wakes,” came a rasping welcome.

“Emiko!”

She nearly tripped over herself trying to reach out to her; the hand beckoning her closer so small under the covers. 

Closing the distance between them, Eiji was treated to a slap to the cheek. She didn’t even register it at first. Her expression thrown, ears roaring. 

“You’ve killed me, bringing me here.” Her voice was as weak as her will to live. “Good as signed my death warrant, you bitch.”

Eiji stared in shock before it hit her as one thousand blows.

She was asleep.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t protect her. Hell, she was barely able to find her on time. She’d failed her and the burning realization that there might be more threatens to consume her.

“What happened while I was out?”

Emiko turned away with a hiss—either from aching injuries or her own malcontent, she’ll never tell. “You heard what Lord Tengen said,” she groused. “Demons and the like. He works to annihilate them…”

Her throat went dry in an instant. “What?”

“Sissy, I’m tired.”

Already having rolled to her side and brought the bedding past her ears, Emiko’s eyes pooled. She let the tears fall away from view but couldn’t hide the way her shoulders shook.

exhaustion. trauma. betrayal.

Thoughts swirled in a vicious cycle. She was as furious as she was suicidal.

exhaustion. trauma. betrayal.

The unspoken reverie was loud enough to hear even separated from the bond their blood allowed.

exhaustion. trauma. betrayal.

It was all Eiji could do to crawl into bed with her, arms wrapped around her trembling body. 

“Are you more angry that I couldn’t save you… or that I did?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Emiko rolled to face her sister, curling tight against her as a babe to its mother. 

“Too late,” she teased gently. Her voice is gentle as the touch that ran up and down her back. “Then tell me. What is it?”

“Just cursing the heavens for damning us with this face and body. And all the bastards who came before Uzui.”

Eiji kept her eyes on the wavering fist curled around the sterile linens they both wore. Trailing her fingers up her back, she brings her palm to her sister’s hair. Pulled her in close, stroking her scalp. She said nothing, merely gave her the means to speak.

“He’s a Hashira. Former Shinobi, by his own account.”

“Shinobi,” she echoed, incredulous. Aren’t they meant to be a dying breed?

“I can’t deliver on the promise I made. I was coerced into accepting his hand, it was the only payment he wanted…” Emiko kept talking over her, vision clouded as if in a daze. “I couldn’t just let him kill you… we needed safe passage.”

A fresh tremor coursed through her. The sight chilled Eiji’s blood.

Bloodshot eyes nearly so vacant as her dream stared back. She didn’t have to hear it to know. 

“Emiko… look at me.” She was desperate with tears of her own threatening to break.

“I can’t go through this again. I refuse. Even once more and I’ll die. By my own hand if necessary.”

Her head shook, stunned to silence.

“Those women are his wives. Says I should get used to them.”

“I can’t let you go through with this!” She refuted further, “I won’t. Not for my sake.”

Holding her hands flush against her ears, Emiko’s eyes shut. Face twisting in anguish and grief, she pushes away from her. “Sleep first, then dream.”

“I’m not dreaming. I’m pleading… Let me help you.”

“You don’t understand,” Emiko argued. “That night… It left me with scars, scars you haven’t seen. He saw me. He saw all of me.”

Eiji’s face flushed with anger. “He fucked you?”

“No… He only kept me talking while I was bandaged. Said he wants to wait until the wedding night to touch me.”

“Show me,” she insisted. “If he’s seen it, I need to see.”

It’s a beat before either moved, let alone spoke. Eiji pushed herself off the bed to stand on shaky ground. She was wary, but didn’t argue. Her sister looked away in a pastiche of offered modesty.

“You can look,” she prompted, voice faint.

When Eiji returned her gaze, visions of that night returned with a vengeance. 

pierced. mutilated. shattered.

Breaking on a sob, she saw her under the roof collapse so vividly as she did that night.

pierced. mutilated. shattered.

Her sister’s skin was tattooed, marred with the visible representation of her own failure. Hypertrophic scars cut around her waist. A contracture piece gnarled on her back. Superficial grazes claw across her breasts. 

pierced. mutilated. shattered.

She had to avert her eyes, choking on her own shame. She would never forgive herself. 

Head raised to the heavens, she was anywhere else.

“The Madame will never have me back now,” Emiko noted wryly. “At least there’s one good thing out of this mess, even if it won’t last—”

With the shattering of glass, the words died in her throat. It took seconds for her eyes to catch up, watching her sister follow after the broken vase. Eiji was there, already on the ground. There seemed to be no rhyme, reason, nor method to her madness.

“What are you doing?”

She sifted through the rubbish on hands and knees, seeking out the perfect instrument for her needs. She’d have to start soon while the sight was fresh in her mind… The rest were tossed aside.

“I’m not letting you down again.”

“What does that even mean?” She pleaded, “Eiji, stop… You’re scaring me.”

And still, she refused her. Not until hope was secured.

Lord Uzui ushers his bride inside the bedchamber, quickly sliding the door shut behind him.

no prying eyes, no vying wives.

Eiji makes to sit on the marital bed, still lost to the events of the day. It’s an absolute miracle her knees haven’t given out already.

“Not so fast.” 

The command chills her to the marrow. He’s behind her before she can react, let alone flee. Uzui pins her in place, a belt of his corded arms wrapping around her middle. Despite the warmth, she’s frozen in place as she stiffly shies from his touch. 

His voice in her ears only drags her further. “Let me look at you.”

It’s not permission he’s after. He’s taking what he wants tonight.

Kissing down the column of her neck, he gives her tit a rough pinch. The assault punches a groan out of her throat, “Lord Tengen, please.”

“Look at that. My prized whore acting like a virgin for her husband. How quaint is this.”

“I just don’t want to sully the garments.” She pushes past the fear and finds her voice. “With all your wives, I don’t see you stopping at four… who knows when you’ll need it again.”

The man drops his arms. There’s a soft sound, almost muffled. She looks over her shoulder and he’s laughing behind a manicured fist. Her eyes widen, the whiplash becoming all too much to bear.

He watches her, watching him. He doesn’t react to being caught. Doesn’t scold her or tease. Merely lowers his hand, leaving only a seductive beam in its wake as he leans forward to take the wataboshi hood from her head.

His gaze lingers on her lips. Before he thinks to act on base impulse and desires, he turns to place the hood away for safekeeping. She trails after him and shirks off the uchikake, offers him the robe and fan. Fingertips graze, earning a hum of anticipation from her husband.

“If you’d prefer me not to do the rest, I suggest you undress yourself.”

She bows. “Thank you, Lord Tengen.”

“Your respect and frugality are refreshing.” A sigh escapes him. “With any hope, you’ll rub off on the others… In more ways than one, I imagine. And I can imagine quite a lot.”

Her cheeks flush at the suggestion. 

He gropes her ass as he passes, already stripping as he takes his spectator’s seat at the foot of the bed. Uzui watches her as an expectant beast would his prey. She takes a steadying breath when he bids her to start.

Eiji thinks of the shamisen players in the brothels. She wills the strings to the forefront of her mind. Her eyes are closed as she tugs at the knot of her obi-jime… 

No more than a feather on the stream, the silken cord spills to the floor with unbidden ease. 

Her ivory obi joins the pool of fabric at her feet. She gives herself over to the music, abandoning her nerves.

Deftly unfastening the datejime leaves her kimono hanging loose. She sheds the rest like a second skin, stepping out of her confines in only her slip of a nagajuban.

More than a chrysalis. A rebirth.

The juban is her only defense. She knows it’s guileless to hope, to dream. It’s all she could have wanted just to keep her sister from the bedchamber.

No. She will do what needs to be done.

When the last whisper of cloth leaves her exposed, she’s quick to cover herself. A futile gesture born from her days in the convent.

A hand catches her wrist and she’s far too exhausted to fight him. Neither for her body, nor her modesty.

Fingers curl around her own as he guides her to the bed. Pushing her gently, back flush against the futon, he holds her in check with only his right hand; keeping her arms raised so nothing might obstruct his view.

He appraises every inch of her flesh, taking his left to explore with the pad of his touch.

neck and collarbone. sternum. breasts.

Kneading her aching tit, Uzui nods in approval. “Scratches are gone,” he notes. “Didn’t even leave a scar.”

her ribs. her waist. 

He traces the lesion with reverence. “I’m sorry I wasn’t of more use to you then.”

The words tumble from her lips before she can stop them. “You’re blameless,” she says under her breath. 

“Come again?”

“My… my sister. She feels every bit of shame for that night. There’s nothing left. Please don’t trouble yourself.”

Moments pass without a word. Just when she’s about to take it all back, he’s pressing kisses into the worst of it.

Eiji chokes on a whine, eyes widening in shock. “Ah!”

“I think your sister would disagree with you there,” he whispers tenderly against her belly. “I only met her once but she looked like she wanted to kill me for even breathing the same air as you.”

Her heart stutters in her chest, conflicted between the sensations roiling through her and the threat of being found out. She keeps her mouth shut. Neither pleasure nor information would pass her lips. Not when she’s come so far… 

She would not let her down again.

Once she found the ideal shard of glass, she made fast work of undressing herself.

“What are you going to do?” Emiko asked desperately.

Eiji walked to her sister’s bedside. She caressed her face. “I’m going to protect you.”

She returned to her own bed, drawing the curtains around her.

Before she lost her nerve, she pressed the glass into herself. She kept digging the piece further inside until she was certain it would take.

She ignored the cries and pleas of her sister. She had to do this. She had to make this right.

With a trembling fist curled around the bloodied glass, she took a leveling breath. 

“Once more,” she urged herself.

She dragged the piece along her back, piercing herself to the hilt. Eiji didn’t need a reference to know. She’d never forget for as long as she lived… It would take her a great deal longer to forgive herself.

Falling to her knees, she curled in on herself… With her body shaking from the shock of it, the deed was finally done.

“Never… Never…”

He laps at the trail of pink with his lips, relishing what reactions slip past her schooled features.

“Even still, it’s healed up nicely,” Uzui remarks, dragging her back with him. “Clean margins, not a trace of infection.”

“You certainly know your way around a battered woman.”

“If you recall, my girls are former Kunoichi. Scars are a part of the work culture… You’ll fit in perfectly, my little prize.”

Eiji masks her disgust with a breathy titter. “And here I thought I’d scared you away,” she quips.

“Thought or hoped?”

With those three little words, the room chills around her. She won’t allow herself to falter.

“I am but a traumatized woman.” A dangerous answer to feed a dangerous question. “You don’t think they're mutually exclusive?” 

He bullies her legs open with the mass of his bicep. Abandoning her arms, he locks her in place with a firm hold on her hip. Rakes his nails against the meat of her thigh, all too quick to soothe the path with his tongue, just as before.

“Answer me,” he growls against her.

Before she can think better of it, she pushes against his shoulder. He buries his face in her cunt, undaunted by her silent protests. 

One swipe of his tongue and she’s gone.

“I… I thought!” Her thighs tighten around him, despite herself. “We had—ngg! We had a… a deal—”

A harsh slap to thigh has her opening back up for him. She stifles a cry behind a shaking palm. He carries on batting at her clit in rapid succession, her groan turning helpless when he buries himself past his knuckles. 

Two fingers with a wail on the third, too thick as they scissor inside.

She’s anywhere else.

The cacophony of noises bleeding from her lips has her mind racing in tandem with her pulse.

Unrelenting pleasure. Blinding sin.

He makes quick work slinging her legs over his shoulders. Colors her thighs with his affections, cups her cunt. She jerks further into the assault.

Propping himself on the balls of his feet, he suckles his fingers. Uzui laves up the juices, savoring every morsel of her essence. 

“And you’d never do anything to rescind a deal, would you, sweet Emiko.”

She doesn’t answer, doesn’t dare dignify him with a response. If Uzui wants to go fishing, he can drown in her silence for all she cares.

Slow to start, he presses down and teases her all the more. Middle finger lapping her juices, he fucks them deeper every time. His wrist twists without resistance. It’s all she hears. He latches onto her clit, a steady staccato of tongue and teeth with his forearm shining with sweat and her own wetness.

Bracing for the forced release, she maintains a white knuckle grip on the sheets beneath her.

Thighs shaking. Stomach tensing. But it’s over before she can fall over that razor thin edge.

He pulls out without mercy, without warning. She sobs at the loss, sweat beading along her temples and brow.

Uzui takes his time spreading her lips, appreciating her cunt twitching around nothing apart from a watchful eye and wandering touch to match. He slaps her tit, diving back into the fray. She’d scream if she thought it would help.

She’s never felt anything like it. 

His nose prods her clit while he gives her a tongue lashing she’s never known. He laps up her juices like a condemned man drinking his last.

Hooking his fingers, Eiji sees white. She came under him and he fucked her right through it, fingering her while spreading his idle hand over her middle. His pinky caresses her scar with such care, almost worship.

It takes her far too long to register he’s been grinding into her splayed thigh.

He’s hot on her bare skin, heavy and thick… She doesn’t have to see him to know.

As if he can read her trepidation like a damn book, he takes her hand and drags it encouragingly over his cock. “You can touch,” he offers.

She says nothing, denying him all the more. Pushing against his advances, she means to end this encounter. Any longer, she fears he may see fit to fuck her into the little hours.

He pushes her back no less than three times before relenting. Fed up with her efforts, he scoffs angrily. “Should’ve brought Suma in to sit on your face,” he laments, all petulance.

Tossing her over his shoulder, he settles her before the bureau. 

“Hands against the wood,” he instructs her curtly, nodding where he wants her. Damn bastard’s already slotting a knee between her legs. “Forearms, too.”

When she does so, he roughly forces her back into an arch. Eiji hears the whistle of the strike before the pain registers. Feels the dresser’s chill graze her nipples before the burn on her bottom. She grits her teeth, detaching herself from the scene.

His touch roves across the handprint left behind before drawing back to hit her again.

Appreciating the canvas before him is a short lived reward.

One hand with an iron grip on her chin forces her attentions. He pinches and gropes what he can reach with the other, the taunting lilt of his voice never leaving her.

“Open those eyes.” The order sends tingles down her spine. “Let me see my gorgeous bride.”

Another thrashing leaves her crying out. He tightens around her jaw, tears flowing freely now.

She does as he commands, her deep brown gaze at last meeting his scrutiny.

It’s when she catches sight of herself in the mirror that her resolve nearly crumbles at his fingertips.

where did emiko end…

                                      …where did eiji begin?

He takes her in his arms, flush against her back as he cages her against the dresser. Uzui sucks a bruise just under her ear, his eyes never leaving the mirror. He feeds his cock inside her, ears singing with every scratch of her nail against the wood. 

A rough gasp tears its way through her. Eiji remains frozen to his whims as he callously fills her to the hilt. Barely four thrusts as he meets no resistance.

He can’t help but groan at the sight of her. 

Stuck-still, she’s too shocked to move, to speak or breathe. 

It’s not long before he tires of her cockwarming and his grunts fill the room with a renewed pace. One sharp snap begot the rest and her cunt fell so tight around him.

He sets a punishing staccato, the sounds of them filling the room in a symphony gone wrong. Coaxing the cries from her, Uzui kept pushing and pushing… bottoming out until he was coming apart himself. 

“How can a whore like you be so damn tight,” he murmurs, nearly slurring his abuses. “All that work getting you open? What a waste…”

Beads of sweat make a mess of his forehead, the silver strands of his hair catching on his skin. She flushes beneath him as he nears his release.

“Keep those eyes on me,” he commands. “I want you to see who’s making you come.”

She holds more than her will as she looks at her husband. She holds her contempt. Her rage… Her every motive and intent. That’s why it’s such a shock to them both when she meets him thrust for thrust for thrust. 

even as the wooden borough grates against the floor and wall. even as he works his spit inside her asshole.

“Fucking close—”

He throws his head back with a trembling exhale and stuttering hips. Eiji’s unbidden wails fall on deaf ears as he spills his seed.

His shaking breath echoes off the walls in a strange marriage of ecstasy and quiet discontent. Would that he could, he’d stay buried inside her forever. 

Uzui pulls out with a hiss, beyond loath to leave her pristine warmth. Releasing her, his gaze falls to their combined fluids trailing down her legs. He spreads her cheeks, reveling in the sight of his debauched bride.

Spent. Humiliated. Done. Eiji rests her weary head against the wood, between her trembling hands.

No blood, she relishes inwardly… with Lord Tengen none the wiser, Eiji has fulfilled her duty. If there was a shadow of a doubt, it’s gone now. He wouldn’t find proof of her innocence. It was gone by her own hand the day she gave herself her sister’s scars. 

Kisses press against her spine, all the way down to her tailbone. He massages her bruised and bruising flesh while huffing in the musk of their consummation. She twitches under his watchful eye and it’s all the prompting he needs to dive back in for seconds, albeit gently this time.

The deft tongue that pleasured her is the deft tongue that cleans her. She doesn’t shy from it this time. He feels the stark contrast as she bears down on his face, grunting his approval as he lazily stokes himself.

It’s not just for her benefit. Tengen knows that despite the closed doors, this intimate moment was always going to be shared.

Not his wives. Not even the heavens.

He knows the nun is sitting vigil at this exact moment, waiting outside those very doors to tend to her battered sister.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure that was her role back in Yoshiwara. Poor girl’s never known the touch of a man, has never come apart by another’s tender care… judging by her disdain that night, she’d likely only ever heard the shameful encounters of brutes and bastards. 

Who was he to deny her? To deny either of them?

If the Sister wanted a show, he’d give that holy voyeur the most flamboyant fucking of her damned life.

Emiko sits beneath a wash of indigo, the stars shining bright enough to spite her. She wrings her hands, anxiously praying he’d be done with her soon. The sun was barely set when they arrived back from the ceremony… He’s had her in there for hours.

It’s all she can do to pray he’d leave her soon enough.

“Stop it.” The familiar prayer falls from her lips, a hush of a bid. She broke on the words as her sister had done so many nights. “Put her out of her misery, damn you.”

In the quiet isolation of the veranda, the only voyeur is the moon above. Emiko weeps for her sister. She weeps for herself.

No one will mind. No one is around to hear it.

[thewertsearch]

GC: 1T F1NDS W4YS TO 4NN1H1L4T3 TH3 P4THS WH1CH DO NOT CONTR1BUT3 CONSTRUCT1V3LY TO 1TS OWN PROP4G4T1ON

I think this is partially true, but it can't be entirely true.

If all timelines that don't propagate reality were annihilated, then failed sessions would be completely impossible. The kids' unwinnable session would have started out as a doomed timeline.

Well... I suppose reality could occasionally permit a failed session, if that session's failure contributed to universal propagation in some other way. I've talked before about how this might actually be what's happening - how Sburb might be maneuvering these kids into a position where they can stop Lord English from destroying the universes it's trying to create.

Still, situations like this would presumably be very rare. The vast majority of sessions would contribute to propagation by directly creating a universe, so if Terezi's hypothesis was true, the vast majority of sessions should be successful.

Karkat certainly seems to think that plenty of sessions end in failure - but where's he getting his information? This might just be another case of his worldview bleeding into his understanding of the game.

For now, the average win rate of a Sburb session remains a mystery. Hopefully it won't remain one forever.

GC: 4ND 1T 1S 3QU4LLY M3RC1L3SS TO THOS3 WHO 1NH4B1T TH3M, 4ND 1N P4RT1CUL4R, THOS3 WHO C4US3 TH3M

And this is even more dubious.

Like, Sburb gave them these powers. Dave has his time machines because of Sburb. Why is he getting punished for using them as intended? If the game really abhors doomed timelines, why is it giving portable timeline-doomers to its players?

I suppose it's possible that Paradox Space is actually being managed by some force external to Sburb, so it's not actually Sburb that hates doomed timelines, but reality itself. But that just raises further questions, such as: why do universes spawn from a game that breaks the laws of the universe?

On the other hand, I'm pretty sure Terezi's just guessing, here...

GC: 1T 4PP34RS TO H4V3 4 S3NS3 OF JUST1C3, DONT YOU TH1NK?

...and they've very Terezi-flavored guesses, too.

She's been primed her whole life to think about everything in terms of justice and punishment, so she's biased towards doing so, even when it doesn't quite fit.

TG: i dunno none of this is making for a very persuasive argument that i should kill doomed me GC: BUT H3 1S GO1NG TO D13 4NYW4Y! GC: WHY NOT JUST B3 TH3 ON3 TO PUT H1M DOWN? GC: 4T TH3 V3RY L34ST, YOU COULD M4K3 SUR3 1T 1S 4 PL34S4NT D3M1S3 1NST34D OF SOM3TH1NG N4ST13R >:]

Oh, she's having fun with this, isn't she?

Like Dave said, Terezi's already seen the future, so she knows what he's going to choose. To her, his final choice doesn't really matter - the fun lies in watching him squirm.

TG: this shit youre doing now TG: this is the morbid shit i was talking about TG: its not anywhere near as endearing as you probably think […] TG: this whole thing was a ruse TG: and not even the funny kind that qualify as distactions TG: i think you got my whole timeline there in front of you and you know damn well i have no intention of killing this guy ever

Dave likes Terezi, but he's clearly getting sick of being jerked around here. He wants to know if there's a point to this - and I think he's going to be disappointed with the answer.

[todomitoukei]

Honestly it’s a depressing ending for the villains. We get hardly any follow up for the remaining ones, Toga was the last one I expected to die and I was hoping it was a ruse at first. But since it’s official it’s heartbreaking. It’s lacklustre just throwing in a character to portray Tomura and what would happen if a civilian did reach a hand out, and throwing in another character for Deku to interact with. Honestly even the heroes were pointless, nothing has really changed in the system. Hawks never got a consequence for his actions, hell it could have been explored of a hero murdering a villain questioning the like of what makes a villain or hero. But he rises in ranks and has done nothing. I just feel it’s such a rushed ending, and I would have been ok with the same ending if it didn’t feel so messy and compiled together. There are so many loose ends and follow ups from characters, Shoto especially. It’s unfortunate, but honestly I’m glad it’s over. I lost passion after a while, but I appreciate the joy it’s gave me when I first started following the manga and getting into the anime, and experiencing the highs and lows of manga leaks. Dabi was my main one, and it’s one positive I gain from this ending for how open it is to his fate. It’s just sad that it ended this way.

Hori's biggest strength is for sure coming up with interesting ideas - like you said, exploring certain parts could've made for an incredibly interesting story. However, his biggest weakness is not following through with what he's starting, doing a 180 right at the end every time.

The cast has always been too big, yet he chooses to show us minor villains like Gentle and La Brava - who receive a happy ending - while the main antagonists endings aren't even being shown.

As much as the villains dying sucks (subjectively but also objectively since the story spent so much time telling us it's about reaching out and helping everyone no matter what), if they had been at least given a proper conclusion it could've been acceptable, yet after 400+ chapters, the author couldn't even bother to show all the main antagonists and their endings.

Where exactly is Spinner? We know he wrote and published a book, but is he in jail and if so, how did they allow him to publish this book?

Is Compress in jail forever? Is he still in a cell with Geten? He read Spinner's book, but how did he get hold of it? Was the prison kind enough to give him a copy?

What about Touya? Assuming he's dead, how much longer did he have? Did his family care when he died? How is the family coping? Are they getting along? Why did Horikoshi not show us Natsuo and Touya talk after spending so much time saying they used to be so close? Natsuo not saying anything and having mixed emotions after all of this was actually an interesting idea, but not when you don't do anything more with it - now people just think Natsuo is an asshole when in reality, he has every right to feel conflicted, but it sucks as a conclusion when we've all been looking forward to seeing him and Touya finally get to reunite and be happy.

What was the point of Shigaraki appearing as a ghost to Deku? Why wouldn't he at least appear in front of his friends? Why wouldn't we see him show up in front of Spinner, approving his book or something?

And yes, Shouto, too. Why is the main info we get in regards to his father? What about his hero costume, which we aren't even being shown? Did he ever change his hero name or is it going to be Shouto forever?

I wouldn't even say it's rushed as much as it's an unbalanced focus. The last few chapters could've been focusing on these subplots, but instead Hori tried to mimick the tone of the first season by showing the kids returning to school and whatnot, something that could've been shown in less time to also make space for elaborating on a bigger variety of characters and plot points.

I'm also glad it's over, I just wish these characters could've been in a better story.