#<- and how the third possible ship is treated

[skitskatdacat63]

Gah when I wake up I need to write a meta abt the intersection of ships bcs its suddenly hit me in the head 😭 why do I always have such great prose in my head when im trying to fall asleep WAHHH

[jackfrostimposter]

genuinely why is there so much misinformation about the guardians of childhood book series?

[psychopomp-namine]

the "nobody likes liu xiao" memes are funny but man we really need li tianchen to show up again to represent the liu xiao likers

also, of course memes are for the funnies and are meant to be exaggerations (I think the jokes are funny). but I think what makes them funnier (ironic) is that... tbh... only xia fei and lu guang seems to dislike liu xiao? cheng xiaoshi was nice to him and doesn't know any better (the way he is now, he would hang out with liu xiao none the wiser), vein is obviously in cahoots with him (and vein strikes me as the kind of person who wouldn't let liu xiao manipulate him, they feel more like equals and willing participants in their relationship), and li tianchen is hanging on to every word liu xiao says. like, there's more people who are neutral or like liu xiao than there are who dislike him, imo. xia fei and lu guang just happen to be the focus of the fandom right now

(I guess liu min probably didn't like him, but nobody's thinking about liu min lmao. the rest of the liu family definitely liked him more.)

[cyberrose2001]

Under Pressure

MTMTE Rodimus x Reader

GRAHH SURPRISE!!!!

Relic and I have been... discussing... very hard about an ask they got a couple days ago so I wrote this eheh (THANK YOU FOR DISCUSSING THIS WITH ME AND LETTING ME WRITE THIS ILY)

Also please yell at me if I forgot any warnings!

Loosely based of this ask over on @callsign-relic's blog

Warnings: Human reader, Giant/Tiny, Dub-Con(?), Nocturnal emission, Crack fic(?)

Word count: 1,887

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Rodimus denies it every time, but he's a heavy sleeper. He snores like a congested rhino; he constantly sets twelve alarms that only barely stir him from his slumber. Despite being captain of the ship, his sleep schedule is far from tip-top shape.

And no, you're not a stalker. You're just Rodimus' observant little 'pet' human, always there, with a California king on his bedside dresser. Yeah, you're treated like royalty by an incredibly hard-to-deny hot alien robot.

So, as the ship ventured further into deep space and the nights got colder, you whined and begged to stay with him.

Rodimus was very hesitant to let you join him in the berth. As much as he cared about you and would kill an army for you, he didn't want to accidentally kill you, which was very much a possibility in any scenario on this ship. But he caved. You had mastered the sad, wet cat look, and Rodimus had the willpower of a rock.

Relishing in victory, you're curled up comfortably against Rodimus' lower plating for the third consecutive night in a row, warmed by the large servo of a sleeping giant. The entire palm of his hand covers your back in subconscious protection, and every so often, you feel a twitch of one digit. It's tranquility and a rare comfort, the touch of another you haven't felt since being on earth.

Until he rolls over.

Rodimus, choking on his snores, flips over onto his stomach and nearly tosses you off the berth if not for the grip he has on you. Despite almost winding you and making an audible 'Oof' sound, he doesn't wake up, his unconscious body assuming another comfortable position.

It takes you a few moments to register what the fuck just happened, but you realise that you're now underneath Rodimus. Almost his entire body weight is now pressed against you and pins you to the berth.

Oh god, you think to yourself.

This is less than ideal; this was not supposed to happen. How the hell are you, a tiny ass human, supposed to get out from under him? You probably shouldn't even be alive right now with how restricted your breathing is, not to mention how hard he flopped on top of you. But thankfully, with how Rodimus' legs have fallen into position, it leaves you with just enough room for your chest to rise and fall.

"God." You whine, muffled as your cheeks squish against his abdominal plating.

Your mind runs wild as you try to think of a way out. Maybe he'll just roll over again soon? God, you hope so; you can handle only so much weight, and Rodimus feels like he could hold down a cargo ship. Probably because he can.

But until then, however long that may be, you need to try something at least.

"Rodimus?" You try to wiggle but to no avail. He has you pinned pinned, and you use what little breath you have to yell out to him, "Hello? Are you awake or what?"

A loud, seemingly exaggerated snore replies to you. He's still deep in recharge, ruining any chance you have of waking him up yourself. You try to use your nails to scratch the surface of his frame, hoping it would tickle him or something, but that doesn't work either.

"Great." You roll your eyes, only you would ever end up in this type of situation. If only you had listened to Rodimus when he first said no, then you wouldn't be currently experiencing a near death experi-

"Y/n..." Rodimus' hoarse voice crackles above you, sending vibrations through your bones.

"Oh, thank god," You sigh in relief. You attempt to wiggle around some more, hoping to get his attention this time, "Listen, can you get off me now? This kinda hur-"

You squeak softly in pain as his sharp pelvis presses against you, and you hear your name again. This time, though, the tone of his voice came out as a whine, like a soft plea.

Because of where you were positioned before you became a pea under a princess' tower of mattresses, Rodimus' lower panels rested right against your stomach. This means you can feel his panels start to bulge slightly.

Oh no, you think to yourself bleakly once again. You're not sure how similar Cybertronian anatomy is to humans, apart from a crude explanation by an engex drunk Swerve. Still, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that you're feeling him getting hard. Putting two-and-two together using two out of the five senses, you've realised that Rodimus is nearly boner deep in a wet dream.

And not to assume, but you're thinking that the star of the show is you.

It's also the wrong time to cackle to yourself about getting crushed by your crush.

You might have some issues to work out after with Rung.

"Oh fuck," You reasonably panic, trying to push against his heavy frame weakly with your pinned arms, "Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck-"

You start to thrash against Rodimus when your arms fail, your tiny body rubbing up against him. This doesn't help at all, you've come to realise but actually digs you in a deeper hole as he begins to rock his pelvis into you.

Rodimus moans your name again as he sleepily grinds against you. Whatever he's dreaming of, it must be an insanely hot pornographic fantasy of you. The bulge grows bigger, pining you down further into the berth. He shutters and lets out a soft groan before his plating shifts, and you feel a very thick, very hard, and very hot object slide up against you.

Oh god, it's his dick.

Swerve might not have told you all the details, but he seemed to conveniently leave out how fucking huge Cybertronian cocks are.

As if you thought this couldn't get any more debilitating, you now have the head of Rodimus' spike pressing against your face. It's as if the Alaskan bull worm had slithered up between yourself and Rodimus to give you a kiss. The behemoth of baggage has already started leaking what you would believe would be the Cybertronian equivalent to pre-cum, smearing all across your face.

At this significant turn of events, you've realised you have come to a crossroads.

Either struggle and continue to wiggle and wrangle your way out from under him, but risk pleasuring him, whether or not he could feel you squirming against him anyway with how small you are compared to it. Or, the more realistic and obtainable outcome, lie still and take it until he wakes up from an orgasm.

Who are you kidding? You don't have much of a choice at all. Both options risk you drowning in alien robot cum. It's wishful thinking as Rodimus starts to rut against your entire body again.

"Y/n..." He whimpers again, though very garbled and unintelligible. Every roll of his hips causes more pre-cum to dribble against your face and down your chest, and with each, it spreads all around in between yourself and his train-sized spike. Making an absolute mess of you.

If you weren't getting humped up against right now, you would indeed find a way to kill him for ruining your only set of pajamas.

"Rodimus-" You gag as a spurt of pre-cum falls into your mouth, "Guh- Rodimus stop-"

His work of venting increases, and so does his rutting. The comatose mech gasps and hitches his breath, oblivious to your cries and pleas for him to stop. He pushes up against you in heated desperation, fucking into your soft body like a grind pad.

"Rodimus! Wake the fuck up!" You start to heat up yourself; the increased pressure and friction of his plating will give you a fucked up version of carpet burn if he doesn't wake up. Sweat drips from your skin, adding even more lubricant to his incessant grinding.

"Wha- Oh, Primus!" Rodimus rears his drool-covered helm and cries out in equal confusion and unrestrained pleasure. He's woken up by his overload as he shoots his load up against you, flooding the minimal empty space left between you both with hot transfluid.

"Oh god-" You couldn't close your mouth in time when a spurt of transfluid hit you in the face, causing you to cough and spit it back out, only for more to splat you in the face.

Rodimus moans tiredly, shuttering violently as his spike pulses and leaks the remainder of his overload against the berth.

Or what he thought was the berth. Since when did he use a self-service mod on his spike? Especially when he shares a room with-

"Hey!" Cough, "Are you done?"

His optics slam open in horrific realisation.

"Oh no," Rodimus rolls over onto his back, his softened wet spike flopping against his abdominal plating, "Oh no, no, no..."

He looks down where he once lay, and his face plates flush a bright blue. Laying in a puddle of his transfluids was you, his little human, sopping wet with a highly unimpressed look on your tiny face.

"Oh Primus, Y/n," Rodimus scoops you up in his servos, gently tossing you from hand to hand as he wrings them off his transfluids, "I am so sorry, I- frag what was I thinking!" Rodimus babbles and holds you to his face, "Are you okay? God, I'm so stupid-"

"Ughh," You lay limply in his palm, exhausted and out of breath, "After that... I don't know anymore."

Rodimus hides his blush with a servo before pinching the bridge of his nose, "I'm glad you're okay, but what were you doing down there?"

"Great question," You lift your head up to deadpan him, then eventually drag yourself to sit up. Sticky, pink transfluid drips down your body. Your face, and hair, are all drenched in him, "It's not like you rolled over in your sleep and had me pinned for nearly half an hour. What the hell?"

Rodimus blinks, and his face turns a deeper shade of blue as he rubs the back of his neck, "Oh, so that's why I had that dream about you..."

Is he serious right now?

"Oh, you think?" You wipe your lip when it starts to drip into your mouth, "I think I could tell when you started moaning my name in your sleep."

"Well, you're just so tiny and soft and-" The red and yellow mech bites the knuckles of the servo not holding you in embarrassment. "But what was I supposed to do, huh? Hold it in?"

God, he is.

"I'm literally gonna kill you, Rodimus." You shiver, his transfluids cooling against your skin. You can't believe he dares to look you in the eye, "I am never begging to nap with you ever again, or maybe at least warn me next time."

"No offense taken," Rodimus nods in agreement for once, watching you wring your hair out, "I'm sorry, Y/n, I really am. I can help clean you up? As a sincere apology from yours truly?"

"As long as I don't come into contact with more of this stuff," You flick a bead of transfluid off your finger into his direction, "And you better be sorry, or it'll be a long time before I might actually let you fuck me."

"Wait, you'll what-" Splat, "EWUGH!!"

[black-rose-writings]

Things I have gathered about Danny Phanton without having ever watched the show (from posts and fanfics):

There's ghosts and they're kind of assholes, but they're also all friends and have christmas parties. Their presence is treated as a mild annoyance by everyone except the ghost hunters.

The main character is a dead 14yo. Sometimes. He's also trans.

There are adult professional ghost hunters around. Literally all of them seem like they are just taking out their serial killer urges on ghosts. "Man is the real monster" trope in action. At least some of the ghost hunters are a Men In Black parody.

The dead 14yo actually the most competent at removing ghosts from the mortal plane.

There is another 14yo who is not dead and also hunting ghosts. She's somehow also more competent at it than the adults.

The MC's parents are ghost hunters and want to torture him into perma-death. That is somehow not the biggest problem with their parenting.

(Like, I get that adults in kids' media need to be kinda dumb and immature for the premise of the show/book/movie/whatever to work, but I'm getting the feeling the adults in this show cross the line of 'plot necessary dumbass' into 'fucked up and abusive' territorry.)

One of the ghosts is tiny, piloting a giant mecha suit and dedicated to skinning the MC and hanging his skin on his wall. He somehow also has a cool rocker girlfriend and thinks this will impress her. Jury's out on whether or not that's a good strategy.

There is a ghost called the Box Ghost, who demands to be taken seriously. Nobody takes him seriously.

The MC's nemesis is another dude who is sometimes dead. He looks like a vampire and swears in food. He also wants to kill the MC's dad (for mostly valid reasons) and bang his mom (for no good reason at all) and adopt the MC as his son(mostly because of his hangups around the parents, not because said parents suck at being parents). In a villainous and fucked up way, because he's the main antagonists. He's also a billionaire, has a cat, and is weirdly obsessed with american football (IDK jack shit about american football, but the level of obsession is treated as not normal by the characters so I will assume it is weird and just how americans be like).

There were 3 seasons, but half of the fandom is convinced the third one may have been a fever dream because it's so bad.

There was a finale that everyone pretends didn't happen because it sucked.

There is at least one time travel fix it episode and the time travel ghost wears way too many watches.

The MC has two living friends - Wade from Kim Possible, but thinner and leaves his house, and a jewish goth vegan.

The MC has a clone and she's a baby and a gremlin.

The ships all have the weirdest fucking names.

Somehow half the named characters being dead is not the angstiest part of the show.

I kinda want to know how someone came up with it and what drugs they were taking. IDK if I want to try some or avoid them, but it would be good to know either way.

[cypresswood3]

You know what. Lemme share my opinions on Malevolent shippers. Not the ships themselves. The people.

Starting off strong, Dollins shippers are somehow the nicest and coziest people out there. You guys sometimes come up with the craziest stuff but. You know the perfect balance between treating these characters and their traumas seriously AND writing them like an old classic Tom-and-Jerry-like cartoon. They are goofy and cute and smell like home. One's a killer for hire and the other is a tortured-by-eldrich-beings detective and you manage to make it into a romcom. I have nothing but respect for Dollins shippers. You are so good to your characters. Like an opposite of Kayne. You smell of fresh pie.

Parkthur shippers are like... the adults of the fandom? I'm not sure how to put it. Yall are mature. You explore parkthur to hell and back. The way you write their relationship is always full comradery and love in its purest form. Not traumabonded like Noel and Arthur, not dependant like blind faith, not brought together by trials like jarthur, but not quite as domestic as dollins. Parkthur is always very real and very human. I'm honestly a big fan of parkthur myself. Arthur's backstory was always the more interesting part of the lore for me (breaking my silence I've always loved Arthur more than John and it'll remain so). So you guys. You guys are the big siblings of the fandom.

Arthur and Noel shippers... I've honestly only seen it done as Arthur x Noel x John. And I love that. You guys hold so much love for Noel it almost makes me tear up. The way you write your stuff feels more of a Noel's good ending then jarthur's. And it's not a complaint in the slightest. You take jarthur and you fit Noel in so well and smooth he actually fixes them. You make Noel jarthur's home and family, and you make them his anchors. You guys are full of hope. When it comes to John x Noel (Arthur is there third wheeling or smth)... You guys are like dollins shippers witht their comfy domestic vibes, but you have an additional sprinkle of... healing. You love your John and Noel and treat them so so well, but it's less of a silly cartoony thing (like dollins) and more of a... story of rediscovery and, again, healing. You have a domestic vibe of a comfort book. Also you create the most insane things when you're horny /very pos.

Blind faith aka Arthur and Oscar shippers. Guys are you okay. It's a banger ship but guys. Guys how are we feeling. Have you tasted anything but tears in the last... forever? You create the most touching and soul crushing pieces of fan-creations but it takes you all your happiness to do so. You embrace the sad the same way Arkayne-ists embrace the horny. Even when you make them happy they're still engulfed in an aura of melancholy. You can write them in a good ending au and it still tastes bitter. And I don't mean it as a bad thing. You guys write Oscar and Arthur like they're doomed Sea and Moon yuri and I fuck with it. So hard. Yall are insanely talented. But also insanely sad. Do you guys want a cookie.

Arkayne. I'm convinced that all Arkayne shippers are actually Kayne's alternative accounts. Yall are ruthless but in the best way possible. Going through Malevolent you either defaultly ship jarthur or arkayne and I have nothing but awe for those whose heart calls for arkayne. I love your fics, guys. Having them in my browser history is incriminating but god. You really look at everyone else and cackle maniacally because you can do anything. Yall can go as crazy as humanly possible and that would still be Kayne. I love arkayne shippers because yall are genuinely so so fun. Yall are the type of people wh didn't drown their sims in pools. Because it was old and boring. Your ghosts were all colors of the rainbow because yall went overboard with your stuff. Honestly same.

Larson and Yellow shippers are quiet and almost unnoticeable but they make the most jaw-dropping gut-wrenching fanfiction known to man. They take Yellow and sink their teeth into him ruthlessly. Where John fans dissect him with care and patience, Yellow enjoyers tear him apart and drag the raw still-beating heart out of him. Whereas other shippers make stuff with hope, your works are embraced in a stench of doom. And it's sweet but in a way rotten flesh is sweet. You take Larson and Yellow and ask the question, can they see salvation and become better together? Then you make them try through blood and sweat and tears and tell them NO. And it leaves them both in agony. And it leaves me in agony. "Raw" is really the best word that comes to mind to describe you. I love you but please stop hurting me.

Larthur idk never saw anyone ship it but if someone does delete your account lmao. Freaks.

There is like a dozen more ships you can make but I've only yapped about the most prominent ones. Will make a part two if there's stuff I genuinely forgot or can yap about. It's 4 am please don't be hard on me if I missed something ultra obvious. It'll come to me.

And jarthur shippers. You think I forgot that don't you. I didn't. It's a fully conscious decision.

[juststandingthere]

ISTG this game is making me insane, brainrot strong enough for me to make my first analysis post

One thing i love about the narrative is how distorted the characters, relationships and events are from jimmy's pov. Most posts discussing this focus on Anya, and it makes sense bc she's probably the biggest victim of this. She's seen as less than a person, she's an incompetent nurse, she has a meek personality, she'll let anyone(jimmy) step over her and she still follows his orders, despite everything he has done to her. We obviously see, from curly's pov, that she's simply too terrified of her abuser to act any other way, and when she's not with him she's way more confident and competent.

I haven't seen as many people talking about how this "distortion" affects Swansea and Daisuke as well, including the relationship they have with each other.

We see, in the first Curly section, that Swansea is a great mentor to Daisuke (one might even say they have a father-son/uncle-nephew relationship). He takes his time to teach him not just the basics, but also how to do his job as safely as possible. He lets him take notes, he himself writes stuff down for him to remember and even lets him doodle on those notes! Sure he is harsh with him, but he clearly cares about him and wants him to be safe.

And in return Daisuke looks up to him and has great respect for him, as both a mechanic and a man, while he also makes some jokingly offensive comments towards the older man, showing the close bond they have formed.

But that's not what we see when we play as Jimmy.

In his pov we don't see them interacting much, when they do we either see Swansea insulting Daisuke for no apparent reason or, in one occasion, we see him leading the kid down a "bad path" wanting to teach him how to "drink like a man".

When they aren't interacting tho, we do see hints of their actual relationship: Swansea asking where the kid is when he is "partying" in the lounge, confirming that he does not, in fact, hate spending time with him; him looking desperately for something, *anything*, that could help Daisuke with his suffering after he's injured; how whenever Jimmy tries to bring up to Daisuke how "badly" Swansea treats him, or how he "lied" to them about the utility room, Daisuke immediately shuts him down, because he knows what he's saying is completely wrong (i'm pretty sure those are the only times he doubts something Jimmy says), showing once again the trust and respect he has for his mentor.

(this part is kinda speculative but i think it makes sense)

There are two other times where we see them interacting, where we actually see how much Swansea cares for the kid, and coincidentally, neither of them is seen through Jimmy's eyes, but from a third person pov: what Swansea says right before they knock him out with the drink, about how he resents the people that let Daisuke, someone with his whole life ahead of him, with so much optimism and joy, board the ship for a job that would inevitably leave him "mangled" and "smarter in a worse way" (i could make a whole other essay on this part but i won't), and what he says right before mercy killing him. In that scene specifically, as the camera pans out in the corridor as Swansea raises his axe, ready to take the final swing, Jimmy doesn't see the hesitation in his body language, the way his body tenses, the way he comforts the kid, telling him to close his eyes, the heavy breaths (crying?maybe?) right after the act. He only sees the older man as a monster that would take away an innocent life that jimmy would have been able to fix had he been given the time to fucking think.

Hell, now that i think about it, Swansea's final monologue, where we find out that he is in fact a good man who tried his best to better himself, who simply wanted to protect the kid and give him "a chance off this goddamn rock"(implying that the Cryopod was meant for Daisuke all along) is also shown in third person!

A few other things i found interesting:

1-The missing pieces between what happened to Daisuke in the vent and when Swansea started attacking Jimmy. There's a cut from when Daisuke screams to when he's laying on (Swansea's) bed, bloody and in pain; from when Jimmy uses the mouthwash to disinfect him (which only causes him to suffer more) and two hours later; from after the talk the two men have and the moment Jimmy decides to go find the gun, the axe gone from Daisuke's face. What happened in those missing scenes? Was Swansea the one who helped the kid onto his bed, trying to make him as comfortable as possible? Did he try to comfort him, to distract him, and ease his pain as well as he could? What was his reaction when he had to take back the axe off the face of the young man he had started seeing as his own kid, whose life he had hoped he could save but that he ultimately had to take with his own hands?

I personally think those parts are blocked out of Jimmy's mind, as he couldn't fit them in his own narrative, where he was the hero, Swansea the villain and Daisuke the innocent, young man whose life he tried his best to protect from this "monster" that was now going to come after him.

2-Swansea attacking Jimmy with the axe, especially the cemetery scene, and how it can be interpreted in different ways.

We, the viewers, knowing everything that happened, will see it as a desperate man, Swansea, trying to avenge the lives that had been lost on that ship because of Jimmy (wether directly or not), with Daisuke's death being the last straw. But i don't think that's how Jimmy saw it. He saw swansea as a crazed, mad man, a ruthless killer, coming for him after taking an innocent life, Daisuke's photo and mausoleum as a reminder for Jimmy of what the older man had done, and a justification for what he was about to do.

(not to talk about the implication that the fight against swansea was not as intense as we saw it, only confirming the idea that jimmy was looking for a justification for shooting him)

[sordidmusings]

Loose Lips (Buggy x Reader)

A/N: Fulfillment of this request! Thank you for making a request dear anon 💕 I really hope that it's what you wanted because it kind of grew into a whole thing 😬 also this is going to be this week's Thirsty Thursday!

Word Count: ~5.7k (~3.1k of smut 💀)

Warnings: Fem!afab!reader, NSWF very naughty indeed, praise, degredation, p in v, chop chop tomfoolery, overstimulation, creampie, dirty talk, dom!Buggy, jealous and heavily possessive Buggy, manhandling/forceful treatment, Gossip time with The Girls (probably ooc but let me have this), trashing your partner (he deserves it), allusions to gaslighting and emotional abuse, starts with humor then just needy but then devolves into lots of smut I promise 💀, some fluff at the end cuz I had to

~Come with me, and you'll be, in a world of endless perversion~

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Buggy had the most shit-eating grin, and it only grew wider with each word you said. He was sunk deep into his chair, feet thrown on the table in front of him, nursing his fifth beer. Taking another gulp, he eyed you over the rim of his tankard. You were only starting your third drink, but to his delight that was enough of a buzz for you to loosen up. Normally, you were quite the skittish little thing around him, and while it was cute he wanted to see and know more of you. He’s always been quite infatuated with you and wished that he had more time with you to sate his want for your presence (and to fuel his fantasies). Tonight, that wish was granted when you had seated yourself next to him instead of your normal drinking buddies on the crew. It may have been Mohji’s usual seat, but whatever you claimed in his presence was immediately yours to him. Mohji was also easy to convince with a warning glare and sharp nod to the chair beside Cabaji.

Speaking of your usual drinking buddies, one in particular had taken to giving Buggy quite the sour look. It only fed Buggy’s smugness more. He wasn’t exactly a fan of your boyfriend in the first place. His dislike was quickly turning into disdain as well with the picture you had been painting for him. It was filled with unappreciated gestures, expected caretaking with no reciprocation, and an absolute bulldozing of your emotions. Clearly, this man boy didn’t deserve you. Possibly not even a spot on the ship with how poorly he’d been treating Buggy’s favorite. That’s probably why said boy was looking so pissy and threatened over there in his corner with your friends. Buggy raised his drink in a sarcastic cheers to him while you were distracted with a joke Cabaji had made at your partner’s expense. When your chuckles tapered off, your face started to pinch with apprehension.

“I feel kind of bad. I mean, you’re his crew and captain and I’m just here bitching to you,” you lamented. Your eyes widened with a sudden thought and you groaned. “Oh no, I must sound like a bratty teen gossiping about their partner.”

“Sounds like you’ve already tried talking it out with him,” Cabaji said. At your shy nod, he continues, “Then fuck it - you gotta get it out.”

“I know, but it’s all so stupid and trivial.” You were hunching back into yourself, staring down at your fingers while they played with your glass in your lap. There’s a flick on your forehead, and your head darts up to see Buggy’s hand floating back to him.

“S’not stupid if you’re upset,” he asserts, much to your astonishment. Buggy always struck you as more of the “suck it up buttercup” type. Wait, he was; you’d seen him bark or laugh at pouting crew members more often than not. You had seen him give some comfort, too, but it was always for something inarguably large in scale. Unexpected sympathy from the torch you’ve held longest should have been enough for you to cheer back up, but the vicious fight you’d had with your partner this afternoon still had all your thoughts trending negative. The confrontation had been brewing for a long while, but knowing it was coming didn’t shield you from the hurt.

“Then it’s pathetic,” you argued. “I mean, only sad lovers in sappy plays cry themselves to sleep right?” You tried to play it off as a joke, but the laugh you used to chase it was hollow.

“You’ve been crying?” Mohji asked, worry showing in his face and voice. Next to him, Cabaji scowled and Buggy sat up straight, even placing his feet on the floor.

“Yeah but I’m just being dramatic; I’m a bit oversensitive,” you said, echoing the words your boyfriend had long worked into you.

“No,” Buggy bit out. “I’ve seen you stare down pirates twice your size, coming at you cussing and swinging. You passed the berating month when you got here, and that has had lesser pirates sob their way back off the ship. Hell, you’ve been stabbed and you were more concerned with your friends crying about it.” Buggy snorted and shook his head, distracting you with the way the blue hair swayed from his hat. His heavy leather boots plonked back on the table, rattling the cups and plates, and he shuffled back down into his seat. The look he gave you was bordering on offended. “You’re not dramatic or too sensitive.”

You think your heart may burst - did he really have such a strong opinion of your character? You may have sought Buggy’s presence out because you were upset and you feel protected around him, but you never would’ve dreamed that the outcome would feed your infatuation such a hefty meal.

“He’s been feeding you bullshit hasn’t he?” Cabaji butted in, tone full of contempt.

“He might have… been the one to tell me that first,” you answered hesitantly. Your brows furrowed. Did you really think that of yourself or had he thought it loud enough for the both of you? Was he the only one who thought it? You became stuck looking for answers in the dark liquid in your cup. Meanwhile, the looks Buggy gave your boyfriend had taken on a lot more accusation and threat than teasing.

“See now that’s pathetic,” Cabaji scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “A man who has to belittle his partner is no man at all.”

“Yeah, he’s probably scared ‘cause he knows half the crew would gun for you if you left him,” Mohji laughed. It got you to perk up a touch and giggle with him. Buggy’s hard expression eased at the sound and the sight of a genuine smile pressing at your cheeks.

“Ah, some actual attention would be nice,” you sighed wistfully. Your voice became bitter when you muttered, “Besides digs and requests for sex of course.” Buggy choked on his drink, causing him to pound on his chest in an attempt to recover quickly. The other two were hooting at both your partner’s and Buggy’s expense.

“He’s that bad that he has to beg for it?” Cabaji snarked gleefully.

“Unfortunately,” you grumbled, pouting into your drink. “I don’t really find him attractive anymore either.”

“Oh no, sweetcheeks,” Buggy admonished, “You should not put up with some manipulative brat who can’t even please you.” Beyond his distaste for seeing you upset and mistreated, his glee at the wedge between you and your partner left him feeling fluttery. He did have a small pit twisting in his gut though; why would you even go to him if you were barely attracted to one of his most handsome men?

“See, this is why you’re my favorite,” you sighed dreamily, smitten from hearing him send a pet name your way and from his persistent defense of you. Your words and the lovesick look you gave Buggy had him short circuit. He needed to grab at this train of thought and pull the whole thing from you.

“I’m your favorite?” Buggy rushed out. Cabaji and Mohji smirked at each other before looking back to see how this played out.

“Well, um, yeah it’s always been you,” you mumbled. Before you could stop it, your mouth kept moving. “I’ve always wanted you but felt stupid doing anything about it. You’re just really impressive with how well you run the ship and with your chop chop thing and how you don’t turn people away because they’re different and you’re always there for us when we really need you and also your hair is really pretty and you’ve taken really good care of me - um - all of us and you’re so strong and really hot doing like anything and I should-” you finally took a breath “-I should shut up.”

Buggy stared at you wide eyed, mouth agape. The duo next to him was trying to keep in their snickers and doing just an awful job of it. You took another gulp of your drink for something to do. Gods, you don’t think your face has ever felt so hot. You cleared your throat and said, “I think I should-”

“You’re breaking up with him,” Buggy told you. You blinked.

“I am?” you asked, not upset with the idea but confused at the sudden order.

“You are,” Buggy confirmed. His drink was placed on the table with a firm clunk, which his feet echoed on the floor. When he stood before you, you had to crane your neck up to see him with how he loomed into your space. His expression was one you’d never seen on him before; he looked ready to snatch you up and bite down. His sea-green eyes glimmered through the shadows cast across his face. He jerks his chin at the drink in your hand. “That’s your third right?”

“Yes, Captain, my um-” you gave an embarrassed smile “-my mouth gets affected far before everything else.”

“So you feel okay?” he checked one more time, eyes boring into your own and making you feel naked. 

“Yes, Captain.”

“Good,” he started, leaning even more over you and placing his gloved hands on your cheeks. The fabric felt soft and warm and you found yourself leaning into it. “Then you are coming with me.”

Buggy stepped back, leaving his arms with you. One moved around your back and the other behind your knees. They lifted you up and brought you to him in one smooth motion. You still yelped without any jerking, bringing attention to yourself from many of the drinking pirates crammed below deck with you. Flustered, you hid your face in the soft fur lining his coat. Buggy turned to his two highest ranked men. He took in their shit-eating grins and sneered back, mostly in jest.

Buggy moved his look over at your group of friends and most importantly your (ex-)boyfriend. While your friends mostly looked confused (and one giving a thumbs up), the idiot of the hour was livid. Buggy smiled slow and wide, making his canines shine threateningly in the flickering lamplights, and he detached a hand just to flick his fingers in a cheeky wave.

“Cabaji. Mohji.” They straightened at his tone. “Let that one know he’s no longer on my crew and he figures out a way off the ship by tomorrow night or I’m throwing him overboard.”

“Aye, Captain!” They both cheered, tipping their drinks his way.

“Now,” Buggy said softly. He turned and began walking in long strides, expertly weaving through the passing plates, flailing arms, and spinning bodies of his merry band of misfits. The gentle bob and sway of being in his arms managed to settle your scrambling heart and mind, if only a bit. He paused when he reached the stairs to the upper deck. The cheek he leaned down onto the top of your head calmed you even further. “You’re coming with me to my cabin to make up for lost time. Okay?”

Your heart thudded strongly and pressed up at your throat. Your eyes burned. He was still checking in? To give yourself a moment to get rid of the lump in your throat, you turned your head and gave a few soft kisses to the base of his neck. Even through his cravat, the action made him shiver. Finally, you answered, “Yes, Captain Buggy.”

The flight up the stairs and to Buggy’s cabin was much swifter and more impatient. Both of you found yourselves thanking the Gods for his devil fruit abilities when they let him open the way without sacrificing his hold on you. He refused to release you until he was kicking his door shut behind him and tearing off his jacket. You took the time to admire the way the muscles in his arms moved as he threw off his hat. His upper body popped up and flew to you so his legs could work at toeing off his boots. You welcomed him to you with open arms and grasping fingers.

Buggy’s grip around you was demanding, one hand fisted in your hair and the other fisted in your shirt. You happily listened to their directions, pushing further into him and offering him your lips. His decorated eyes closed and his painted lips dove to feel yours, only to stop just a hair short. 

“After this you’re mine.” His voice rumbled against your chest and his lips tickled against yours with each syllable. There was a jolt as his legs got back to his body, causing your lips to brush in the closest mimic of a kiss yet. You whined right against the brush of his red lips and pawed at the front of his shirt to ask for more. “Say it.”

“I’m yours, Captain.” The words were barely out of your mouth before he was stealing the breath from your lungs. The kiss immediately became open mouthed; he had needed to taste you since he set eyes on you and he had deprived himself of the chance long enough. It was full of dancing tongues, eager lips, and bumping noses and it was better than you had let yourself hope for. 

“You have any idea how long that fucker kept you from me,” he growled. His arms kept you to him in the fervent kiss but his hands flew off to start undoing your pants. Their movements were jerky and rushed and the tugging at your pants made the garment rub pleasantly across your skin. Your body felt alive with the taste of his lips, the pressure of his arms and the pulling of his hands.

“You’ll never think of him again,” Buggy promised darkly between kisses, while his hands began harsh tugs to get your pants and underwear down. When you were stepping out of them, he finally moved back far enough from you to let his hands work on ripping your shirt over your head. Buggy’s lips were back on you before your hair even had time to settle back into place. He nipped your bottom lip and kissed his way to your ear. His hands were making quick work of your bra. “I’m going to replace every bit of his touch on your body with my own.”

Shivers trembled through your body at the feeling of his words being breathed into your ear. The tingling sensation bouncing under your skin only intensified when his hands wedged between your chests and began thumbing at your hardened nipples. While he started walking backwards to the bed, you set on undoing his too numerous belt buckles. You needed to feel his skin on you now. At your unhappy moan, Buggy had his hands help you.

“Impatient?” he teased. He got another whine for his answer. At last, all his belts were undone. The thick one from his waist thunked onto the floor and his shirt followed soon after, pushed off by hurried hands sweeping from pec over shoulder. You hummed at the feeling of his chest hair against your palm and his muscles flexing and moving in your grip. Your arms then wrapped behind his neck, pulling him in to feel his chest press to yours. You jumped at the unexpected feeling of his chest hair teasing at your nipples, making them send pleasant tingles across your skin. His arms wrapped around your waist to pull you in just as tightly, making you feel caged and at his mercy. Groping hands separated from his arms to work at the flesh of your hips and ass, the fabric of his gloves causing extra friction.

Buggy’s lips had made their way back to yours, trailing burning kisses and red paint, and his prodding tongue slid back through your parted lips. Your hurried fingers pulled the bandana from his head and scratched across his scalp, setting his hair free. Blue waves cascaded down to tickle your arms and sweep at your cheeks. Your hands broke through the curtain of his soft hair to rid him of his cravat. While your hands continue seeking ways to touch him, his hands left you to swiftly yank each glove off. When his touch came back to you, Buggy moaned loudly at the feeling of your bare, flushed skin under his fingers and palms.

His hands massaged their way down to the backs of your thighs. While he sat himself down on the bed, he used this grip to pull you into his lap. You shivered and moaned as your bare pussy finally got some friction against the leather of his pants. Even through the thick material, you could feel his length twitch against you. An iron grip clamped onto your hips and set the pace of your needy grinding. “Fuck, sweets, you’re gonna ruin my pants. That wet already?”

“Can’t help it,” you whined. “I’ve wanted you so long.” You emphasized your words by grinding down more firmly against him, sliding easily through your slick on the supple leather.

“Fuuuuck,” Buggy groaned low, throwing his head back at the sensations sparking through him with each push of your hips. He pressed back into you with more insistence. “Wanted to take more time with you, treasure, but you’re making it fucking hard.”

He used his chop chop powers to stay attached to you again, separating from his feet so he could float you two to the center of the bed. The weightlessness and tipping of your balance shot adrenaline through you and had your weight increasing the pressure of his hard on against your clit. You dragged nails down Buggy’s chest in your bid for stability, earning a grumbling moan from him.

You may have been the one on top of him, but it was clear from his controlling hands and commanding lips that he was the one in charge. You’d let him keep that power forever if it meant you kept getting to feel his touch tearing into you and taste his skin and tongue and teeth. The smell of your own arousal mixing with the hazy scent of him emanating from his body and sheets had your muscles turning liquid, save the ones helping your hips lure pleasure from his. 

At the next drag of his hips across your cunt, you felt the pressure slide downward and leave you. Your thighs still felt his torso squeezed between them but the lack of support under your pelvis startled you and you began to pull back.

“No, no, sweet thing,” Buggy soothed, “Stay right here.” He trapped you to him with a hand to the back of your head and the other gripping the back of your shoulder. Your sense came back to you a little bit, reminding you of the chop chop fruit, and you relaxed slightly. Foggy eyes watched you as your muscles loosened and you eased back down for your mouths to meet again. The hand in your hair became a fist, urging you even closer, while the other disappeared. The feel of smearing makeup added to the delicious mess of the kiss, all wet lips and sliding tongues.

You slowly raised your hips up in the air, pressing your chest more firmly into his and relieving your thighs of the burn from keeping yourself hovered. Your elbows took the rest of your weight and your hands clung to Buggy’s shoulder and bicep. The air of the room sent a chill through you with how it contrasted to the wet heat you had presented. You weren’t chilled for long though; the draft of the room suddenly stopped reaching you and the bed dipped between your knees as a weight settled there. You felt knees nudging the inside of your own further apart and you happily let them, eagerly arching your cunt even higher.

“Such a good fucking girl,” Buggy growled against your lips. Warm skin met the back of your thighs then the plush of your ass. You let out chirping moans, muffled against his mouth, in burning joy when you felt the slide of his bare cock drag through your lips. “Such an eager little bitch for me; you ever go ass up for him?”

“No,” you panted. “N-no -hah- never, Captain.” Buggy nipped at your lips before he started his way down to your neck. You eagerly arched your chin up and out of the way, getting rewarded with a boiling hot lick across your pulse. Between his ravenous mouth and grinding hips, you were losing track of anything but the impulse to chase what feels good. And all of his touch ravaging over you felt so fucking good. 

The way your hips circled back into his had Buggy losing his mind - he needed to grab at every piece of you, feel you under lips and tongue and teeth and nails, and he needed to feel your warm swollen walls wrapped around him. A thought occurred to him and his mouth flung to your ear.

“Has he ever fucked you raw?” It came out as more of an angry snarl than real words. “Did you let yourself be his little slut?” Hips pressed forward meanly, nearly lifting your knees off of the bed with how he was forcing you to arch. “Answer me.” A hand clamped onto your jaw. Fingers released your hair to dig into the sides of your neck.

“No, sir!” you gasped, delicious pain bringing you back some clarity.

“My perfect girl.” You felt the grumble of his voice vibrate from his chest to yours. Your jaw was released. The punishing pressure on your spine eased as Buggy backed off, only to use his free hand to guide your hips back into greedy grinds. You wanted his handprint marked there forever, and Buggy wouldn’t disappoint. The grip controlling your neck jerked you to look him in the eyes. They were blurry and black with lust, looking like they would be quenched by nothing less than swallowing you whole. “Waiting for your Captain to be the one in your cunt? Already knew that you’re my whore?” The clumsy huffs and moans of “yes” that spilled from your mouth went straight to Buggy’s cock, each one making it throb against you.

“Let me.” His knees pressed at yours and you spread even wider, opening up enough for your clit to constantly rub between the base of his cock and his heavy balls. “Gotta be inside you - own every part of you.” His dominating grip on your hip forced the long grinds into tight circles weighted on your clit. Buggy tugged you down in a quick, needy kiss, tasting the whines on your tongue. “Fuck, give it to me; be mine and I’ll fuck you like this every day, buy you anything you want, do anything you want.”

You were so close already, head buzzing from his rabid pleas and the restricting grip into the sides of your neck. Your heartbeat had moved to pound between your hips, matching the rhythm of his hips grinding into you. If it weren’t for his hand at your neck, your head would’ve lolled forward to leave you drooling against his chest.

Buggy’s detached hand slid over your ass to guide the head of his cock to press at your twitching entrance. The moment he was lined up, his hand flipped down to cup your mound and grind the heel of his palm over your swollen bud. His head stretched you wider than you’re used to and you were already tripping over the edge when you felt yourself pop over the rim of his tip. “Gods, fuck, sweets, you feel like heaven.” He kept sliding in, the stretch not easing as he worked you open. “Never -nnngh- leaving this cunt.” The forearm around your back forced you into his chest even harder. “Gonna tie you up and fuck you all day, shit!” His hips finally met yours, rooted right above the palm still massaging at you.

The first drag back, full of his mushroomed tip pulling at your clenching walls, was your favorite thing you’d ever felt. You could only manage its deliberate push and pull, ending with a shove you felt pressing through your stomach, three more times. “Yes -hahh- yes, y-yes -nnnnghaahh- yes, yes, yes yesyesyes”

Bright pleasure tore up your spine to explode in your head and fizzle out through your every muscle. Your eyes screwed shut, your feet kicked up to clench by your jolting hips, and your fingers dug and trembled into Buggy’s skin. You shoved your head down, forehead pressing into the sweaty side of Buggy’s neck, open mouth gasping out hot air and high pitched moans. Distantly, you heard him darkly muttering, “Fucking hell, good slut, goddamn you’re perfect -mmmmnnhh- my perfect girl.”

Buggy’s grip on you became bruising as he held off on cumming with you. He’d just barely got a taste of the squeeze of your cunt and he needed more. He’d grit his teeth in desperation when he felt you milking him so soon after he had adjusted to the blissful feeling of sinking into you. Now he was absolutely sure he was going to steal you away and keep you forever. He needed to feel your pleasure and desperation at his touch every second of every day for the rest of his life.

“Such a whore, so eager to cum for me,” Buggy praised. He was brushing your hair from your face with shaky fingers, guiding you back from your orgasm. He continued his steady thrusts into you but eased up on his palm when your body went limp. You looked absolutely pathetic slumped against him, ass held in the air still being used for his pleasure.

“That stupid boy ever get you to sound like that?” he goaded. The closest you got to giving a response was a breathy “nuh”. Buggy kissed at your hairline and began picking up the speed of his hips. “That’s what I thought. Now be a good pussy and milk me dry.”

Buggy’s thrusts became punishing and insistent, chasing the blissful pulsing clench of your cunt that he felt at the end of every full stroke. The heel of his palm jostled your clit with each slap of his hips against you, slipping easily against you from how much he had you dripping. Even so, your nerves burned in a way that was just slightly too much. You arched harder to try and lighten the sensation but that only angled your hips so that he hit his hand harder on each thrust. Every impact felt like an electric shock, knocking a high and breathy moan from you each time.

“Sounds so good, treasure, keep singing for me,” Buggy moaned, breath tickling the top of your ear. He wanted to slow himself down to hear you longer, taste you longer, feel the hot wet plush of your pussy forever, but he couldn’t control himself no matter how hard he tried. His body clung to and plunged into you, driven by uncontrolled instinct. He needed to grab and consume you until he couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. He’d finally admitted to himself how much he was dying to see and own all of you. Now he had you blissed out and pliant against him and he could no longer stand living without knowing the feeling of emptying his cock into you.

“Captain,” you hiccuped, “C-Captain Buggyyyyy, ‘s too much.” You tilted your head up to moan and bite at his neck, needing something to ground you. The salt and heat on your tongue cut through some of the blinding haze. Your fingers kept digging at him to find  some kind of anchor in those slick, tensing muscles.

“You can do it, sweets,” he encouraged breathlessly. “Just -fuck- just be my good whore, just let me hahhhave my fill and I’ll -nnngah- help you rest.” You managed a weak “yes sir” between your moans and whines and Buggy’s hips managed to give you even more. Every nerve he touched inside you was scorching and screaming with the delicious friction and stretch of him pounding into you. Buggy felt the same searing bliss ripping through him, emptying his mind of everything but desire and possession.

Buggy groans, “So close! You’ve been soooooo fucking good for me, my perfect slut.” The hand at your neck had switched back into fisting your hair, so he could drag you up and moan right in your ear. The palm at your clit became a tightly circling thumb and your limp body jolted back to life, clawing, grinding, shaking, and gasping. “That’s fucking it, treasure, need you to cum again and -ahh- I’ll fill you up.”

You used whatever strength you had left to bounce back on his hips. Your used muscles were pounding and swollen, but the praising sounds and extra friction you got with each move had you never wanting to stop. You never knew how good it felt to be fucked hard enough for the force to ripple through the flesh of your ass and thighs and stomach and breasts and you’d do anything to keep feeling it. The crushing grip on your hip kept you steady any time you faltered from your trembling muscles and blanking mind. You don’t think you’ve ever felt like this, so completely insatiable, so deliciously overwhelmed, so voraciously claimed. The blazing signals shooting to your head from between your legs started to burn so bright that they were losing detail. That was until all four of Buggy’s fingers touched the very base of your stomach and pushed down hard. 

“Buggy! Buggy! Buggy!” You kept yelping, and his eyes rolled back from the sheer ecstasy of hearing you like this. You were already tight, muscles clamping down hard and winding up for your orgasm but this… There was a firmer pressure with each stroke, especially when he knocked as deep into you as you could stretch, and he was drooling at the fact that his fingertips could feel him fuck himself into you.

“So good, holy shit -hahnngh- you feel so fucking good, treasure, gonna cum,” Buggy was beside himself panting and groaning out for you. His fraying voice became biting and fierce, rabid with need and absolute command. “Need you to cum - cum for your Captain.”

“Yes, sir, yessir please please,” you sobbed into his chest feeling so close but also already over the precipice and feeling everything and numbing out. Your body was going haywire with how good and how much everything felt and you needed something to hold onto. 

“Good fucking girl, good -nnnngh- you’re mine, mine, mine-” Buggy’s voice was all gravel and possession and he chanted the only word he could manage when his balls pulled tight and his dick began to twitch. The clapping of his hips stopped, replaced with deep long grinds that had the weight of his jumping dick play with every inch of your walls and you were gone. You keened and sobbed out at the force of the feelings bursting through you and you could do nothing but quake in his grasp. The hot feeling of his cum pumping into you, cockhead tapping down at the push of his fingers on your stomach, had your eyes rolling back and your legs going limp.

Buggy was pretty sure he lost a minute or two there while he wasn’t able to think past hot, wet, and good. All he knew was that he finally got you and it was better than he ever imagined. His heart stuttered at the feeling of your panting breath cooling his chest and your sweet fingers clumsily trying to draw shapes on his skin. They kept falling limp between attempts due to the strength of your exhaustion, but you were adamant in your need to show him affection. His face split in a dopey grin. Buggy just knew you’d be the perfect little love and now you were his perfect little love. A smug snicker interrupted his heavy breaths from knowing he stole you away from that shithead, and he was going to make sure to pamper you so you’d stay and never have to cry to yourself again. 

Buggy nudged you to the side so that your spine would get some relief from arching. He couldn’t have just let you straight down without your hips being forced down under the weight of his past the edge of his torso. You weren’t allowed to go far though; he felt as if he’d tear apart anything that interrupted all your skin to skin contact. You hummed deep in relief at the change in position and nuzzled your face into Buggy as thanks. He kissed his bright smile onto the top of your head and began massaging a hand into your lower back. This time you moaned at the relieving feeling, earning a chuckle from him.

“Better?” Buggy asked. 

“So much,” you answered. Your eyes and muscles felt heavy and your bones were made of lead. Your breathing had become soft and slow and steady in tandem with his, beginning to draw you under with the promise of a fulfilling slumber. You managed to mumble, “Thank you, Captain,” before you were gone. A more lingering kiss was placed on your head this time. While your mind wasn’t there to receive it, your body felt it and shifted just that much closer into Buggy’s warmth.

Buggy sighed, thinking of the mess that the two of you and the bed were and how much work it’ll be to do the necessary cleaning up. A large problem was detaching you from himself and an even larger and more difficult one was mustering the will to remove himself from you. He gave in to the comfort of holding you, pulling a spare blanket from a basket across the room to lay over you both. Still in deep sleep, you hummed contentedly at the new comfort and warmth, melting Buggy’s heart further. He peppered a few more indulgent kisses onto your temple and hair before snuggling his cheek down into you. He’d decided a little nap wouldn’t hurt.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

[theguyinthemathexamples]

From the Beauty, to the Creation

— to celebrate my beloved Argenti coming home after i first lost to Bronya (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

— C/W : trying a new fic format, extremely self indulgent, possibly ooc 😞, spoilers?, my first sahsr/sahsrau fic‼️

Being the vessel of an Aeon that was thought to have long since passed was no easy feat, as it required other Aeons to set their sights on you first.

Some call Them the Aeon of Creation, others the Aeon of Fate; the IPC have yet to decipher their time of arrival, much less their motives. Though, most theorize that they materialized long before the first atom had started moving, only to stay dormant in a state akin to hibernation after setting the universe up for self replication and ever expansion.

(more utc‼️‼️)

Their presence felt like home, a warm embrace, maybe even a light in the dark, or perhaps a form of escapism. Everyone is sure of one thing: once you accept Their calling, and accept the Astral Express's conductor's invitation, there will never be a way to turn back.

To others' eyes, a faint string can be seen reaching the heavens itself, tracing down a vessel, caressing their whole beings like a forced blanket thrown at their face.

An almost addicting bliss could be felt after these possessions, before that moment of ethereal release comes crashing down. Though, those that are used to always moving around — those with more stamina — don't usually feel this drawback as much as the others.

More often than not, the feeling of being watched and dazed dissipates and a feeling of fatigue sets in — intense tiredness, and even a slight chance to feel dizziness, had been reported from these... events.

But most importantly, a voice could be heard. A voice that many described as one which contained a thousand choirs, perhaps millions.

Among those was Argenti, a man of excellent talents that walked on the Path of Erudition, though claims to walk that of Beauty. One of the most recent vessels, per say.

He first felt this presence after accidentally hitting the Astral Express with his own ship, the "One and Only", he called it, the faint strings caressing the being of three out of the six Trailblazers.

To exude such a warm, calming aura around one at all times is truly a magnificent display of beauty, he thought.

The second time, however, it was quite a sudden moment. A strange letter was penned to him, claiming that it could make his goal of spreading the Beauty, if he used the golden ticket provided inside, a dozen steps closer.

The weirdest aspect was that he kept hearing faint whispers around him. Was this how vessels gained an invitation?

Though, feeling hesitant about this strange letter, he chose to send it instead to the Commander of the Silvermane Guards, Lady Bronya Rand, so that someone else could experience such a wonderful event.

The letter warned him that he must accept this invitation, were he to receive such a letter once more.

Third time's the charm, as they say, as not only did Argenti get another letter not too long after, the voices were much louder this time. They were more persuasive, more hoping and, most importantly, more enticing.

The letter beforehand told him of the earlier warning, and this one did not hesitate to emphasize it in the second paragraph.

And, left with no other choice, he had to accept this invitation. He truly didn't expect getting treated with such warmth and excitement seeping through every vein in his body.

He briefly caught sight of the Aeon in all their glory — was this a sign that his fate towards meeting the Beauty was slowly coming into fruition?

Being blessed by two Aeons, even briefly catching their attention, was a feat unlike any other, but being chosen as an active vessel by one? What a truly great achievement.

Along with the Trailblazer that caught him, four others stood behind them. A master swordsman that went by Yanqing, the owner of Neverwinter Workshop, Lady Serval Landau, the Commander of the Silvermane Guards he'd given the invite to earlier, Lady Bronya Rand, and a child that waved at him who called herself Lynx Landau.

Quite an interesting group of people, but a beautiful bond of friendship swirled among them nonetheless.

Slowly, he could feel himself getting stronger, even more so than before. This mysterious Aeon had gifted him so many things already, yet it doesn't seem to be stopping any time soon.

From the creations of the acolytes of the Aeon of Remembrance, Lightcones, to relics which were created from anomalies caused by the Antimatter Legion, and more — all were given to him to make him more powerful.

It was as if meeting and becoming the puppet of this Aeon could make you undeniably better than your former self, even after you thought you were already at your peak.

The world doesn't revolve around you? The creator of the universe lovingly revolves around me 24/7, thank you very much.

In a place unknown, a black haired Stellaron Hunter sneezes, causing two others beside him to sneak a small glance.

He merely huffs, averting his own gaze away.

... Ignorance is often bliss.

This is my first time writing my beloved so I'm sorry in advance if he's ooc 😞😞

I hope you all liked this cuz i def liked making it hehe

Next on the agenda? My thoughts on sahsr/sahsrau :DDD

[odiesdayoff]

Kinktober: Matthew Joy

Pair: Matthew Joy x fem!reader

Summary: The Essex has taken your ship and its crew. The captain finds out your secret.

Warnings: Dub-con (Virginity loss/Rough/Creampie)

im a little high and horny so happy third post of kinktober <3

The wind was unforgiving, as always. If it weren’t for the leather gloves covering your hands, your skin would’ve been broken by the sheer pull of the ropes that held the sails taut. Your hat nearly flew away. The rest of the crew scrambled around the ship to assess the damage.

From what you could see, the bow had caught fire from the blast and what was a small hole now threatened to sink the entire ship. The attackers, another whaling ship that flew the flag of Great Britain in the front and a black flag in the rear, already had their hooks in the hull of your ship.

Water was already seeping into the lower regions of the ship and it was only a matter of time before you all were submerged underwater. Your captain blew the whistle. The instrument was a precaution just in case of a situation like this one. It only meant one thing: All crew were to meet on the deck and prepare for the inevitable.

Cautiously, you let go of the rope and watched as the sail blew away into the sea. They had warned you of an event like this and dying at sea was only a crazy, yet rational fear until now. You climbed down the pole and stood on the deck with the rest of your crew. 

You couldn’t thank these men enough. They treated you like you were no different than them. Dying next to them would be an honor.

The attacking ship’s crew began to climb onto your ship with large guns in their hands. More advanced than you had ever seen in your lifetime. The man held up his gun, pointed at your captain, and shot. Bits of blood and gore splattered along the deck and on your uniforms. Your crew stayed still.

The other man pointed the gun at the rest of you and pointed to their own ship. Carefully, you followed the man’s instructions and gathered on the deck of the other ship, watching your ship sink along with the remains of your poor captain. 

You knelt in a line, the other ship’s captain standing in front of you all with his arms folded behind his back. “Welcome aboard the Essex. My name is Captain Matthew Joy and you will address me as such. Now, our ship cannot accommodate all of you, prisoner or not.”

He stands in front of the man at the end of the lineup. “Stand.” This was the cook. Even if you never particularly anticipated his meals, he was still a good man and a fine addition to the crew. He saved the end pieces of the loaves of bread for you on the occasion that you had fresh bread.

Captain Joy eyed the cook down. “Strip.” The guns were still aimed at him as he began to unbutton his uniform and drop the clothing until he stood bare in front of the Captain. “What are your skills?”

“Kitchen, sir.”

One by one, you watch your crewmates get undressed and assessed, then thrown off of the ship. You notice his shoes stop in front of you and you slowly rise to your feet. He raised a brow, noticing your features. “Skills?”

“I work the sails.” You interlock your hands together behind your back, trying to be as proper as possible. 

He narrowed his eyes. “Tell the truth.”

You shed your jacket, maintaining eye contact with him. “That is the truth.”

His eyes surveyed you. There was no way something your size would be able to handle the brutal job of maintaining the sails of a ship that size. That position was reserved for men twice your size...not a young boy, in his opinion. "Off with your clothes, then."

The act could only last a few seconds more as you stripped yourself of your outerwear, then shirt and pants, leaving you exposed. Under the outfit, there was reasonable doubt that you were a man. Without it, your breasts perked from the touch of the frigid sea air, and your womanhood couldn't be mistaken for anything else. You kept a cold stare on the captain, waiting to see how fast he would order you off the ship.

"Colour me surprised, love. Quite the beauty was hiding under all of those rags." He smirks, shamelessly checking out your body and reaching out to touch your collarbone. "A sweet thing like you really worked the sails? Or were you keen on more...indoor activities?"

He laughed, along with the crewmates of his ship. Your crew felt less fear for themselves and more for your safety. You knew all too well the dangers of being a woman all alone with men on a ship in the middle of the ocean. They did their best to protect you and treat you just the same.

"Get rid of the rest however you'd like." He took your arm and pulled you down the stairs to the quarters. His was the largest, as he was the captain. Secluded from all of the other men.

He shut the door behind the both of you and led you to sit on the edge of the bed. "They're good men. Good sailors. It would be a waste to kill them."

He pushed some of your hair behind your ear and cooed teasingly. "Don't worry about them, sweet thing. All that matters is that you're alive and you're job won't be with the sails any longer."

"What's my job, then?" A part of you knew already, but it needed to come from his mouth, in his words.

His soft smile had a sinister edge to it. "Serve the crew meals in the galley...and service them when they desire."

There it was. Exactly what you feared when you signed up to join the ship in the first place. Your luck had run out exponentially.

You kept your gaze on the floorboards, seemingly rotting within the ship as he stood on it. "I won't be able to do that as well as you hope."

"Why's that? Any whore can do the job just fine." He reached for the trousers of his uniform. You could already see the way his erection strained against the fabric. Men at sea typically only had their hands to work with unless they fancied other men.

You shook your head. "I'm not a whore. I'm a sailor. And I've...never done anything like that."

He quirked a brow, grinning now. It didn't stop him from freeing his cock. How was that going to fit? "Not only do I get to fuck a pretty girl, but I get to claim her as my own. I can't promise I'll be gentle when I deflower you."

You could barely react to his words before he pushed you back to lay on the bed, already straddling your hips and positioning his leaking tip in front of your entrance. He was far from unattractive and in any other circumstance, you might consider marrying a man that had his looks and confidence.

Now, you braced yourself as your walls stretched to accommodate his length. His hot breath burned against your neck as he pushed further inside and groaned in pure bliss. "Been months since I had pussy. Never had it this tight."

It wasn't supposed to hurt like this, right? If it felt so good for the man, then why did it feel like he was splitting you open just by being inside of you? Maybe the pleasure would come later, though it didn't feel like that later was anywhere close. You could feel every vein and ridge of his cock dragging against your walls, antagonizingly slow to make sure your pain was prolonged. Or, that's how it seemed.

"Fuck. Consider your cherry popped. Now, it's my turn." He pushed his entire weight on top of you and started to thrust faster as if he had a time limit. His tip repeatedly tapped so deeply into you, that what you think might've been an orgasm was coiling within your stomach.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you weren't sure if they were of pain or pleasure. He didn't bother to check if you were enjoying it, only focusing on getting as deep as he possibly could.

When the thrusts became more...quick, that's when you felt it. A warm sensation deep inside of you. He sucked on your neck and moaned, softly thrusting again to push his seed back into you. "Forget what I said about being the ship's whore. You're only mine now."

[ganondoodle]

so, inspired by the warm welcome the captain received with that rough doodle i posted, i made an updated design for Ki'ita as well (basic and with clothes)

i removed the piercings she had bc considering that they spend the majority of their time in arctic waters i think having metal directly in your skin is a bad idea, no matter how thick your blubber is; i also gave her typical white markings a green hue bc ... i liked how it looked and makes them stand out a little more

(i will not repeat what i wrote on the post about the captain but wanted to add a bit of more info about Ki'ita herself)

(i dont have ALL of their backstory done yet but) the captain and Ki'ita worked together in another organization, one in which the father of the captains child also worked at, before being betrayed and barely managing to escape, after which the both of them founded their pirate crew (possible name is the Solar Pirates bc of their solar powered boat stuff); since the captain had her daughter shortly afterwards Ki'ita managed most of the organisational matters at first, including the construction of their base on an abandoned island they had initially fled to

over the years they invented the solar powered ships that allowed them to gain control over a large part of an important trade route, leaving normal ships (mostly) alone but attacking those of hunters and similar, rescuing demons and mutants, even some humans from them, most of which also join the crew and it quickly lead to them becoming their own little community

Ki'ita does not like to spend alot of time among large groups of people, no matter how much she cares about them, and her originally being from norther lands gave her the idea to explore, and if viable, do underground missions in those norther areas to disrupt the infrastructure the hunters had built in recent years and overall keep the crew informed about things that may otherwise stay hidden; with each of their travels her time absent from the base increased but the patience of the captain is wearing thin so its likely a serious talk is underway on Ki'itas third solo mission she nearly died due to entanglement in abandoned nets made by hunters from an unknown material that she could not break, the massive scars on her tail especially come from that, only surviving bc the date they were supposed to return to the crew had passed and the captain grew to worried about her and made the entire crew rush into an emergency search, including the captain herself and her toddler, who were not suited for the cold climate just like the rest of crew, taking a huge risk that Ki'ita still feels ashamed of for causing; they stayed within the base for a whole year afterwards, not just to recover but also as a silent apology, taking time preparing herself to ensure theyd not get into a situation like that again

(before departing on their next mission the captain gifted her a sword with the blade made from the material of the net, a wooden handle, bc of the cold, and a blue wrap around it reminiscent of the captains striking blue teeth; a reminder of what had happened, a means to defend herself when their strength and teeth are not enough, and also a promise to always return again)

the oldest members of the crew know Ki'ita well and treat her like an old friend, among the newer members she has more of a .. cryptic status, the mysteriously absent vice-captain who only appears every few months or so out of thin air, throws a big party, sleeps for a few days and then vanishes again, the only hint to when they will return soon again being the captain getting noticably grumpier

(OC art, Ki'ita, she/they)

[lupinescribbler]

Tips to Writing Emotional Dialogue!

No hard and fast rules here, just some things I've seen in media and incorporate into my writing that I think can help emotional dialogue hit the mark. Use or discard as suits your writing/story!

Build up!

Emotional dialogue will hit harder when the groundwork has already been set. There's lots of ways to do that. One is what I call the "naming", let something exist in the story without being properly addressed or labeled, until it finally is. A character bitterly saying "I never was (a child)" (hello Dean Winchester) is going to hit a thousand times harder if you've already seen that. If you've seen glimpses of their childhood, or how their childhood has affected their adulthood, if there's been jokes or throw away lines, or stories/storylines that surround that idea without naming it, if you've watched the character come to turns with it, or treat it blithely, or hide it. You need to build something up in order to pay it off.

2. Action!

Dialogue in general, especially long stretches of dialogue, can end up feeling stale when nothing is happening during it. I tend to like to use action to reflect and support the dialogue. I don't mean action as in a fight scene (imo, drawn out conversations in the middle of a fight scene can end up feeling too unrealistic). I try to focus on how an action can serve as a backdrop to reflect the emotion of the conversation of the scene. If a character has been avoiding the issue they could avoid it both verbally and physically by performing a distracting task (taking the groceries in, sharpening their sword, fixing their car, etc). Or it could reflect something about the lifestyle of the characters or their current headspace. I also like using action to reflect the emotions entering into and progressing through the dialogue. Is the task frustrating them? Do they abandon the task when the dialogue starts intensifying, or redouble their efforts? What can happen in the action to progress it alongside the conversation? Do they slam the fridge door? Do they ask the other person to pass them a wrench? Do they give up?

3. Setting + Context!

Similar to action, but often more passively, I like using the setting to influence or emotionally enhance the conversation. How does the environment shape how the characters are feeling or the conversation unfolds? Are two people having an argument in a public place, one embarrassed and trying to shut it down while the other escalates? Are they shoulder to shoulder in the cabin of a sinking ship, listening to water sloshing, thinking they're going to die and they better get this off their chest? I find describing some actions and environmental factors can help change the pacing of a conversation, generally by slowing it. If there's a pause in the dialogue, make the readers and not just the characters feel it.

4. Tone + Expression + Movements!

These can be delicate to balance. Personally, I tend to overemphasize the tone character's are speaking in, and am working on doing just what is necessary to establish the emotion instead of everything possible. Mostly I'd recommend 1) focusing on where a description of tone/expression/movement is most helpful/impactful. 2) varying how and what you're describing (don't have someone shrug a million times in a scene, or voice crack every sentence, etc. It will mean less every time it pops up). 3) Vary long/prosy stuff with stuff that's short and hard hitting. Be willing to cut out good lines to make better lines hit harder. If you tend towards either one of the other (long vs short) edit through to add more variation in the other direction. 4) Weigh exact word choice, especially if you're naturally more wordy (like me, lol) sometimes you have to sacrifice a little nuance for impact, and sometimes you can switch out two words to a third that encapsulates both, etc. Or if you tend to be short, you might figure out a place where an added description would add more clarify and nuance.

Final thoughts:

I hope this was readable and maybe helpful :) my best recommendation is always to reflect on what best suits your voice, and what you find most impactful in what you read/watch. So many different voices/styles of writing can crush an emotional scene in their own way. For example, I've been reading Jack Reacher recently, which has a way more blunt, taciturn, and factual approach to emotions/emotionally heavy scenes, and frequently knocks them out of the park in ways I never would have thought of.

[lizdenys]

Outer Wilds (Video Game) AO3 Tags appreciation post

Of course, no one cares about spoilers quite like Outer Wilds fans care about spoilers:

major outer wilds spoilers

Slight game spoilers

DLC Spoilers / Echoes of The Eye spoilers

art book spoilers

allusions to the dlc but nothing in depth

spoilers for a small but important part of the story

don't read it unless you've played it

as in plot and quite literally a solution to a puzzle, so don't read if you want to solve them all yourself

DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T PLAYED ECHOES OF THE EYE OR FINISHED THE MAIN GAME

all the spoilers ever for everything outer wilds you have been warned

idk what else to tag pretty much everything is a spoiler

I can't even write tags without spoiling

DO NOT SPOIL YOURSELF MY GOD

I'm a little afraid of posting this because it might spoil something inadvertantly

Spoilers!, but this is outer wilds, you probably know the drill

so don't spoil yourself!!

So here's the requisite Outer Wilds "There will be spoilers!" warning because there will be spoilers throughout this post from this point on, okay?

Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's start this off like every run, with a cozy campfire, shall we?

Campfires

Campfire stories

there will be mallow roasting over a campfire

Marshmallows

S'mores (OMG how much I wish someone - anyone - got to make a s'more.)

And Riebeck is a big marshmallow

Implied/Referenced Drug Use

just two high buddies chillin and talking about stuff

Now that we're all enjoying perfectly-roasted marshmallows, let's get to it:

breaking spacetime in pursuit of science

they/them pronouns

it is more difficult than I thought to avoid gendered words

Based on my friend's inability to fly and ability to land anywhere

feldspar is a newbie to anxiety

Dark Bramble scary

Third wheeling except your crush is in love with the entirety of space

quantum tomfoolery

the tyranny of linear time

Something about the horror of eternity

the fabric of spacetime is hanging on by a thread

infinite possibilities brain go brrrrrrr

impulsive feelings about chert today

the hatchling just wants to share their findings they're so excited

little tiny bit of cosmic horror

this was written in about 20 minutes (I really need to know if this "about 20 minutes" was, in fact, 22 minutes.)

they're gonna be fine in 22 minutes just

this heist could have been a meeting

Hornfels needs an advil

somebody go save hatchling im begging get this kid a marshmallow

they can have one happily ever after as a treat

Feldspar and I both have no idea how to raise a baby in general

there is so much trauma in this owl

this literally came to me in a dream

Gabbro is depressed in this one because you can't convince me being so blase about losing their ship, and being able to meditate through a supernova is the hallmark of someone mentally well

gabbro is also doing so fine and normal and also does not have any hearing problems (lie)

They all need a hug, Except the anglers

Someone invent therapy for these three, They're going to need it so badly

Spacetime needs therapy after this

Anyway let's go die horrifically in space! ::D

trauma bonds

also i totally stole the main premise for this fic from a mod

when gossan goes low slate goes lower

hatchling was not supposed to be a kazoo player but they're really stubborn

i just think the player should be allowed to play an instrument (Me, too.)

Quartz-Typical Disregard for Ethics

canon typical disregard for affliction

There is an eject button for a reason

does it count as major character death if they come back?

Is it still considered the end of the world if its the entire universe thats dying?

the possibly applicable archive warning is major character death, but you knew that already didn't you?

the many deaths of you

Canon-Typical Suicide, thats an insane tag but its Outer Wilds sooooo

Five Stages of Grief, with a 6th secret stage (Can we call this "the sixth location of grief" please?)

i really tried not to make it sad at the end but the loops are tragic man

I Made Myself Cry

Okay, let's wrap up with all the varied "not beta read" tags this exquisite game lends itself to, nay, demands:

No beta we die like REDACTED

no beta we die like. well. you know

No beta we die every loop

no beta we die like the hatchling

no beta we die like hatchling (horrifically)

no beta we die like gabbro, chill and overstressed

No beta we die like real hearthians

no beta we die like everyone in outer wild does

No beta we die like the sun

no beta we die like the sun every 22 minutes

NO BETA READERS WE DIE LIKE THE STARS

no beta we die like the universe

No beta we die like any time-looper worth their salt

No beta we die like the homeworld

NO BETA WE DIE LIKE NOMAI

No beta we die like 5/6ths of best girl (I teared up reading this tag.)

no beta we die like the prisoner (I nearly sobbed reading this tag.)

No Beta We Just Cry

No beta we die like the fish (Not gonna lie, this one is my personal fave.)

[starsreminisce]

For Sarah, writing about the couple is about writing the romance on the pages.

If Elucien hadn't happened, I'm absolutely sure Vassa would still be with Jurian.

Vassa and Jurian are on the same journey and Lucien won't leave the fae world to follow any human Queen.

I hate the cliché of leaving everything for love and that's what I see this Vassa and Lucien ship about, being about a consolation prize and about one person giving up on love.

If Elucien already loved and cared for each other, there's no reason for a book.

For me, Sarah talking about Az's journey already says that the story will be about him and Elain's Journey will revolve around him and Lucien still has a lot of history.

In short: If it was about rejecting a partnership, Lucien and Nesta would still be soul mates.

I've always wondered why change if the idea was not to end up together?

So every day Elucien convinces us that it will be the end of the game and I just hope there won't be a 10 year wait to finish Acotar.

The thing that gets me about Vassien being endgame is that it would be the third time SJM shifted Lucien’s endgame back to someone who shares Feyre’s archetype.

Lucien, to me, always felt more developed than Tamlin. That becomes even more apparent when you consider how SJM has talked about him. She modeled him after Jamie from Outlander, called him her love, and said he has someone special coming to him.

From the start, it seemed like Tamlin and Feyre were never meant to last. But Lucien had depth, pain and growth. It would not be surprising if he was originally meant to be Feyre’s true match.

At one point, SJM said she imagined Lucien with Nesta, who like Feyre is a sharp-edged character, until she realized they would destroy each other. So why pair him with Vassa, who is described as having a foul temper and a fouler mouth and someone who would get along just fine with Feyre? That does not feel like a meaningful shift.

If a successful or even amicable rejection of the bond was part of Elucien’s arc, we would have seen it already.

Instead, ACOFAS set up three clear storylines. Nesta needing to begin her training with Cassian to heal. Azriel was being positioned to confront his Illyrian heritage. And Elain and Lucien were both set on a path to work through their separate issues before meeting in the middle.

You’re right that if Elain and Lucien were already in love and just waiting for their book to make it official, there would be no tension or growth. Feyre’s bond with Rhys appeared at the end of ACOTAR but she still went back to Tamlin. If she had gone to Rhys immediately, ACOMAF and especially Chapter 54 would not have landed the same way. Even in ACOSF, Nesta and Cassian’s bond snapped early, but it still took months and a major confrontation for Nesta to finally face it. The delay makes the acceptance more powerful.

In ACOTAR, we’re told the mating bond is always present, waiting for both sides to be ready before it snaps. Lucien was always Elain’s mate. Before she was born, before she became fae, and even if she were to reject it.

SJM has treated the bond as something sacred. HOFAS made it clear that it comes from a divine source. She dismissed the idea that it could be fake. And we know Elucien’s bond is real, not fake, because we got his POV. He felt it instinctively the moment he met Elain again, away from the chaos of Hybern. That moment was so powerful it brought guilt over Jesminda, and he literally had to fight off his instincts. That is not something shallow or convenient. That is not something she would casually undo.

Elucien already has the call and response that the bond seems to demand. And we’ve seen glimpses of that dynamic as early as ACOWAR.

In her podcast interview with Jenna Bush, SJM said she had four books planned in her head. In HOFAS, she introduced the possibility of interworld travel through Nesta. Previously, she also said the next arc would focus on multiple couples with a bigger story in the background.

That setup makes more sense with Nessian, Elucien and Gwynriel. Vassa has no connection to the Dread Trove since she is not Made like Briallyn and wouldn’t be able to control it. She fits better as a foil for Elain than as a romantic lead. Gwyn’s interest about Merrill’s theory of connected worlds already positions her to take on that kind of arc. And Azriel has made it clear that Elain should not be near the Trove, which makes it hard to place her alongside him if his storyline revolves around it.

[daredvssy]

Insatiable

I've been really struggling to finish writing anything over the past few months, but this idea has been consuming me ever since the copia rizzchat on twitter was discussing it. So, for your enjoyment- approximately 1500 words of Copia being a 🐱 eating fiend. If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here.

Ship: Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

Rating: 18+!!!!!! No minors PLEASE!

Wordcount: 1530

Warnings: smut, f!receiving oral sex, overstimulation, dom!copia

Throughout the course of your relationship with him, you had come to know that there were a lot of things to love about Copia. He was an incredibly hard worker, who had earned every bit of power allowed to him by his position as Papa; and it was a role that he excelled in. He could command large crowds with ease, and there were very few at the Ministry who would not bend to his will should he decide he wanted something.

 Despite this, he was still an awkward, rather silly man, constantly making you laugh at his antics. He was extremely kind hearted. He cared very deeply for those who looked to him for leadership within the Ministry. You had no doubt he would do almost anything for any of the siblings who lived at the abbey. 

His love for his pet rats was one of the things that had drawn you to him in the first place; you had never seen anyone who treated the small creatures with the reverence he did. He was an incredible listener too; you could always tell you had his full attention whenever you spoke to him. 

As a partner he was as close as a person could get to perfect, as far as you could tell. He always found ways to let you know he was thinking about you throughout his busy day, and no matter how much he had on his plate he always made a point to set aside time to spend with you. 

Yes, there were plenty of reasons to love Copia. Though right now, one of those reasons had your attention more than all the others: the man was a pussy eating fiend. 

At any possible opportunity he would be in between your legs drinking you down like he needed it to survive. He'd go for hours if you let him, making you cum over and over until you had nothing left to give. It was almost like he was doing it solely for his own benefit, and your pleasure was just a fortunate side effect of him taking what he wanted from you. 

Today he seemed particularly desperate for you. He had been working you over for what felt like an eternity. After he gave you not one but two mind-shattering orgasms with no signs of stopping you had made the mistake of reaching down to push his head away reflexively in your overstimulated state.

Doing so had lost you the privilege of having your hands free. He had tied your hands to the headboard above you and was back between your legs, sucking on your clit as though his life depended on it. 

You looked down at him as he worked his tongue around your sensitive nub. His hair was disheveled, and there was more of his papal paint smeared on your thighs than there was left on his face. While you were fully naked and vulnerable, exposed to him, he had only partially undressed; his jeans and vest had been discarded on the floor, but his shirt hung from his frame unbuttoned. He was rutting against the bed through his boxers as he ate you out, little grunts of pleasure escaping him as he worked. The sight of him like this would have been too much for you even if he wasn’t currently latched onto your overstimulated clit. You thrashed against your restraints, bucking your hips involuntarily. 

"None of that, dolce," he snarled, pinning your hips to the bed with an iron grip before returning his attention to your drenched core, shoving his tongue deep into your cunt. 

A pathetic, keening noise escaped you, your eyes rolling back in your head as he worked his tongue within you, his nose stimulating your clit just enough that you found yourself rapidly approaching your third orgasm of the evening.

"Oh, fuck Papa," you whimpered, the overwhelming sensations making your legs start to shake.

"That's it, tesoro, come for me again," he instructed, pulling back for a moment before returning his attention to your clit once more, sucking around the sensitive bud. 

You were almost instantly thrown over the edge, your back arching and a stream of incoherent babbling escaping you as your mind went fuzzy with the overwhelming pleasure. 

Copia diligently worked you through your orgasm, continuing to suck on your clit as you came down from your high. As the haze of your orgasm cleared, you came to the horrifying realization that he still wasn’t done with you yet; the feeling of his mouth against you sending bolts of sensation through you like a hot knife. 

You once again thrashed helplessly against your restraints, crying out as you fruitlessly attempted to clamp your legs shut to stop his onslaught. He was having none of that though, and your efforts were met with a snarl as he wrenched your thighs open once more so he could continue. 

"Papa, Papa please, please Papa" you begged him, your voice hoarse as your eyes began to well with tears. He leaned back for a moment to consider you, giving you a momentary reprieve from the burning pleasure he was giving you. 

"Do you need to use your word, amore?" he asked, considering you seriously. 

"No Papa," you replied, tearfully but honestly. 

"Then you will give me one more," he said sternly, beginning to lightly apply pressure to your oversensitive clit with his gloved thumb. Your hips stuttered involuntarily in response, your body unsure if it wanted to move closer or further away from his ministrations. 

"I don't know if I can Papa," you whimpered, practically panting at this point. 

"You want to be good for me, yes? You want to please me?"

"Yes Papa."

"Then you will do as you are told," he demanded harshly, leaning in to lick you with a flat tongue. 

You whined in response, but didn't argue the issue any further, trying with all your might to relax into the sensation of his tongue laving over you. He continued lapping at you in broad strokes. Normally this would only serve to tease you, but in your current state even that was almost too much, you had to fight to keep yourself still for him. Your efforts did not go unnoticed. 

"You're being so good tesoro," Copia praised you inbetween licks. His praise reignited something within you, and you could feel something begin to build slowly in your core. 

"Oh, Papa," you whined, fully overwhelmed. "It's so much."

"Shhh, I know, dolce. Don't worry, Papa is going to help you," he said in mock sympathy. He brought two of his gloved fingers up to your opening, easily sliding them up within you. You cried out, clenching around the intrusion as he began to slowly pump them in and out fluidly, grazing your sweet spot each time. 

As he returned to lapping gently at your overstimulated clit, he gradually began to increase the speed at which he worked his fingers in and out of you. Very suddenly, you felt as though you were right back on the edge; the burning, gentle lapping of his tongue against your clit and his talented fingers repeatedly brushing up against that spot inside you proving to be just what you needed to get there. 

"Are you going to come for me now, dolce?" he asked, already knowing the answer.. 

"Yes, Papa, yes," you practically sobbed.

"Good, you're doing so good. Let go," he encouraged in a low, soothing voice. 

You didn't fall off the edge so much as you were yanked over, set fully adrift by the burning pleasure that ran through your full body as you clenched around his fingers. 

As you came back down to Earth you were vaguely aware of Copia releasing a shuddering moan against you; he had come against the bed from how he rutted against it as he had tormented you. You let out a weak whine at this realization. 

Copia only took a moment for himself to recover before he was crawling up the bed, reaching over you to release your wrists from their restraints. You let your arms flop back against the bed, feeling boneless after how he had worked you over. 

"You did so well for me my dear, so very good," he praised, brushing a stray hair back behind your ear. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and you hummed a happy sound into the kiss. 

As he pulled back, breaking the kiss, a small smile graced his expression, his eyes shone with adoration as he studied you for a moment. 

"How do you feel, amore?" he asked. 

"So good. And so tired," you mumbled, a sleepy grin plastered to your face.

"Is there anything you need, tesoro? Anything I can get you?"

In lieu of a verbal response you reached for him with grabby hands. He quickly got the hint, moving to lay beside you with an arm raised in offering. You wasted no time in snuggling up to him, burying your face in his chest as he brought his arm down around you to hold you.  You drifted to sleep in his arms, feeling sated, happy, and safe.

[doodler16]

Since someone already brought up Overlord Husk into discussion,I want to rant a little about it since I've been meaning to do so for a while.

Vivziepop shot herself in the foot SO BAD with this decision and all this just because she can't get hu$k3rdu$t off her mind. In an attempt to make them "bond" she accidentally turned Husk into a person trafficker (not that he was any better before,but still).

Husk himself admited how he gambled souls away (aka slave trading) just because he wanted to gain as much as possible,yet the show (and the fandom) tries to present him as a "good" guy who deserves redemption just because.

I also noticed how the fans are underestimating this man and what he did/still does. Upon the overlord reveal,all they could focus on was how Husk is a "helpless little kitten" (I'm honestly so sick of this constant dehumanizing. This is a former human,not a pet) or making hu$k3rdu$t AUs where Angel Dust is his slave but Husk is super nice to his employers.

The most tone deaf thing in all of this mess is how Husk will get his ass mailed to Heaven shortly after Vivziepop figures out a way to send Anthony there first.

And another thing:I'm also done with the double standard in the fandom regarding who deserves redemption and who doesn't. People agree that Alastor should stay in Hell but want the other two to go to Heaven for some reason.

If you ask me,NONE of them deserves to be in Heaven. And I'm saying this as a Husk and Alastor fan (I hate the third dude for the favoritism he receives. Seriously,Val has more victims we don't even know about and yet nobody is ever thinking about that).

It makes the Huskerdust ship even more awkward with Husk being an ex trafficker/overlord. The worst part is that Angel Dust didn’t even react. So, I wouldn’t be surprised if they glossed over that in season 2 until it’s convenient for the plot. But at the same time it could lead to some juicy drama and conflict between Angel Dust and Husk.

So far in universe, Husk isn’t interested in redemption. He’s forced to participate in these activities but I can definitely see Husk changing his mind later down the road because of Angel Dust. And attempting to put in the effort to change himself along with fighting his inner demons. But that’s a future Vivziepop problem.

If Husk does want to go to Heaven, he has to deal with Alastor first since he is bound to Alastor. Let’s be real, Alastor won’t let him go that easily. Oh yeah, I’ve seen the overlord Huskerdust AU more specifically in comic form (if you know, you know). Husk is practically the good slave owner and treats Angel Dust very good.

But yeah, I agree we shouldn’t underestimate Husk while yes he is currently helpless. He most likely was a dangerous overlord due to his gambling and being unpredictable. Currently, we don’t know how he treated other sinners but hopefully we get an expanded backstory.