#or let me study them under a microscope

[angelcake10023]

freenoodles for yaoi day today 🥹🥹🙏

FREENOODLES FOR YAOI DAY!! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🍜🐷

They bring me so much joy 🥰

[cupids-stimboards]

day 1 prompt: fave obscure character answer: toby billings - fnaf (fazbear frights books)

🐰 🦇 ⛓ / 🕹️ 🌊 🕹️ / ⛓ 🦇 🐰

[dootznbootz]

I think some folks MAY have gotten the wrong idea about how I feel about Circe with some of my posts. So, to clear the air...

Homies, I love that fucked up sorceress.

I love how we're never given a reason why she turns people into animals. That's so funny and so awful. And another potion-making magic gal?!?! I love that she's just basically vibing on an island doing whatever she wants. I even love the fact that she scares Odysseus shitless! She's morally gray and that's why she's FUN.

I just sincerely hate when people try to girlboss her or have her be a victim of SA when she never was Looking at you, Miller. Especially when she was actually the one who coerced Odysseus in exchange for his men being transformed back into humans. And even then, while he was clearly afraid of her, (it's in the language of the Odyssey) she likely meant him no harm after a certain point. He just didn't know that.

Why does she need a reason to do awful things? Why can't she just be a goddess who does whatever she wants? That's the reason why I love her!!! She's fucked up!!! :D

I hate what the Telegony did to her as well! >:( You're telling me, this sorceress goddess, who makes potions (!!!) wouldn't have magic contraceptives??? Would WANT CHILDREN?!?! WITH THE PATHETIC WIFEMAN?! No. Fuck no. Eugammon of Cyrene, I have beef with you 🤬

Anyways!!! Understand all the "#anti circe" I have is simply Anti "Girlboss Circe" or the book. I genuinely think she's neat af as her morally gray, fucked up sorceress self and just get frustrated with...everything :'D

[freyholland]

ok yeah im a certified Misty Quigley fan

[jacketpotatoo]

throwing my chart into the pit of yj shipping discourse like alcohol to fire

[goldentigerfestival]

Yuri's dialogue (JP) is so fascinating to study, like... the repetitive use of certain words/phrases that others use sparingly but he uses constantly. the way it feels like his vocabulary is more expansive than what he uses, but he defaults to a "comfort" level of speech. the way it mixes in with his sort of "street talk" words and the sheer level of informality. the way his "street talk" phrasing is contrasted by the tone of his voice (on that note, people I know who also know JP are also very endeared by these aspects of him so I KNOW IT'S NOT JUST ME!!!).

'cause the thing is, he uses phrases that yeah, other people do use, but he uses a handful over and over and over (contrast to other characters' sparing use of repetition). it's actually... really refreshing? it sounds more relatable and less "video game/anime/JRPG/RPG" writing or something, idk. like closer to how a real person would speak.

I do my best in my translations not to make things sound too stiff across the board, but Yuri makes it so easy. it's why I'm so interested in translating all his lines in Vesperia, like... the actual, original tone for him with his original wording because it's smth Eng only players don't get to experience ('cause even if you listen with JP audio, if you don't know the language, ofc you're gonna miss out on context. it's nobody's fault for not knowing, just... they unfortunately miss out). the thing is, there are a lot of times when the lines in and of themselves are not contextually incorrect in the English ver (usually the situation for smaller scenes, because they altered the text outright for more important stuff which was the stuff that originally set me off, but there were also plenty of cases of just vocal tone shifting with the correct context that still gave off the wrong impression), but Yuri's tone is shifted away from the original in Eng even though it's completely and perfectly translatable.

I am by no means about to translate the entire game because let's face it, I really don't care that much for Vesperia on the whole. I'm kinda stuck with it because Yuri's there lo and behold I actually am WAY more engaged in his stories in Rays, Link and Asteria because it's an amazing character put into circumstances where he actually gets to shine and feels more alive, which Vesperia did not provide nearly as well with its very disjointed story. also, Tales gachas have banger stories that are arguably better than the mainline games, and they regularly make Yuri a very central character to the gachas. Crestoria was also about to do it until they pulled the plug on that game and I'm pretty confident something interesting has been lost to the world. also I just generally don't have the energy or motivation to do that, so... I'll only be focusing on Yuri's lines, especially because his stuff is where the bulk of the messing around was. he's just insanely fun to translate for and I love burying myself head first into his speech.

will I actually finish this project? dunno. will I get around to posting it? whatever I get done (so all of it if I complete it), and if I decide to call it quits then I'll post what I have at the time I decide that. will it take a long time? probably, but I can always mention stuff along the way...

[pokegyns]

sorry but, by virtue of being alive, you are a part of the patriarchy and, by being a part of the patriarchy, men are given a priviledge women dont have. in lgbt spaces, men are treated better on average then women because, you guessed it, the patriarchy. hate this fact? great! work towards dismantling the patriarchy and educating men to be mindful of this instead of pretending that certain men are absolved of this because they are "the specialist wittle bois"

-mod pikachu

[moved--naitfall]

@gyofukuki asked:

🚢 for oda and 'toria

🐝  *  ―  𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑷𝑷𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻.

Oda Sakunosuke

do i ship our characters together?: yes | no | not yet but maybe soon

would i like to ship with you?: yes | maybe, i'm willing to try | no

type of relationship i could see: childhood or high school sweethearts | exes | engaged | married | long-term relationship | crushes | unrequited love | fling | long distance | online relationship | just dating | new relationship | toxic lovers | friends with benefits

tropes i'd enjoy writing for them: friends to lovers | enemies to lovers | exes to lovers | fake relationship / dating | forbidden love | grumpy and sunshine | star-crossed lovers | surprise pregnancy | second chance | soulmates | amnesia / mistaken identity | forced proximity | secret relationship | slow burn relationship

would i rather plot first or jump right in and see where it goes?: develop their relationship first | jump right in | something in between

what now?: let's plot something | send me shippy memes | i'll send you shippy memes | write me a random starter | i'll write you a random starter

anything else i want you to know about me / my character / my shipping habits: they're so much alike, and I love that. two incredibly kind people, who got their hands dirty, but both wish for redemption in their own ways. bsd verse? snk verse? also them talking about books? gimme gimme gimme. both are two of my most favorite characters in fiction. a relationship of equal understanding. very healthy, despite them being fucked up in their own ways. I think a bond between them is refreshing, as if: I know all your sins, and I'm staying.

Historia Reiss

do i ship our characters together?: yes (not before you) | no | not yet but maybe soon

would i like to ship with you?: yes | maybe, i'm willing to try | no

type of relationship i could see: childhood or high school sweethearts | exes | engaged | married | long-term relationship | crushes | unrequited love | fling | long distance | online relationship | just dating | new relationship | toxic lovers | friends with benefits

tropes i'd enjoy writing for them: friends to lovers | enemies to lovers | exes to lovers | fake relationship / dating | forbidden love | grumpy and sunshine | star-crossed lovers | surprise pregnancy | second chance | soulmates | amnesia / mistaken identity | forced proximity | secret relationship | slow burn relationship

would i rather plot first or jump right in and see where it goes?: develop their relationship first (stares @ our long-ass convos) | jump right in | something in between

what now?: let's plot something (again, we're way past plotting) | send me shippy memes | i'll send you shippy memes | write me a random starter | i'll write you a random starter

anything else i want you to know about me / my character / my shipping habits: I mean . . . you know how I feel. I adore them. but at the same time, what are we doing to ourselves with all this pain. but I'm loving it. the queen and her knight. they're impossible. levi's so hard to develop such emotions, but they make sense. I can't wait for their relationship to take it's path (ahem, not the paths™), and see where that gets us.

[cinammonelles]

For the blorbo ask game, Luna VNC and your favorite Tai Sui character!

THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THE OPPORTUNITY TO BE INSANE ABOUT THEM🤝🤝🤝

Okay so I don't talk about Luna enough because my brain turns into alphabet soup if I try to verbalise my feelings ever but I would kill god for them

I am the normalest Prince Zhuang enjoyer actually :)))) subtly shoves multiple unposted insane ramblings under the rug

[phin-and-frob]

"Wait I didn't hear anything of Heidi Klum's Halloween costume this year, lemme just google tha-"

you know what? nevermind.

[dmitriene]

Maybe something with poor birdie having an anorgasmia (unable to cum or it taking a long time) and price (or whoever you want to write for) trying to fix it

i apologize it took me so long to finally write, but i do hope you'll see this and enjoy!

cw: anorgasmia, some stress and mentions of unhealthy relationships, john doesn't cures reader but they find a way to work, sex and comfort, strangers to lovers or something similar, my knowledge of the disorder comes from internet.

any disorder can make a person feel different, broken, wrong — not like everyone else, not as expected, and even if it is a trifle that can be cured, worked out, or just needs more effort, it will still make many people treat you with a kind of hostility, consider you as if you were an object of study under a microscope, and you are no exception.

anorgasmia shouldn't have been the problem that it really turned out to be, because there's nothing unusual or really terrible about having difficulty having an orgasm, you need a little more time, a little more attention, understanding, because the pleasure of sex doesn't go away, it's just that your body's reaction is slightly different.

or so you thought, but all your relationships collapsed like sand towers, washed away by the tide as soon as you failed to give your partner the expected reaction, sobbing moans, rolling, wet eyes and shaking from the spasms of a strong orgasm thighs, no, with most of them it either did not exist, or it was not so expectedly grandiose, a small splash, a little trembling all over the body, then silence and a dissatisfied grimace on the face, looming over you in anticipation.

dysfunctional, they spat bile and animalistic hisses, as if it was kind of an insult to them, although you never threw it on them, you know it's just your problem, let them know, looking at the sparkling eyes and proudly puffing chest — when they said that you slept with the wrong people, that they will definitely be able to make you drown in your climax and unearthly pleasure, but in the end, everything is the same.

you didn't let it parasitize your mental health, but you stopped looking for sex and turned away any attempts to start a relationship, preferring to therapy and numerous consultations, learning different techniques of self stimulation, erotic media and countless sex toys, and little by little, it became easier, but still, you were different, your pleasure more imperceptible, easy flowing, a short flicker, until you met john at another boredom night.

johathan price, as he introduced himself, is a charming man — a type that is found in romcoms, easy going, charming, a man big and strong, adorned with his age in the form of gray hair the color of cigarette ashes, neat beard and a mustache, deep wrinkles in the corners of his purest blue eyes, softness in the once steel strong muscles, which are now protected by a small weight, smoky laughter, scars on his arms and body that speak of the years spent on the battlefield, and yet he lost neither his beauty nor his sanity.

a natural, he communicates with a special ease that attracts the attention of everyone around him, as if a charm has been unleashed in the room, tactile, and his physical contact most likely confused more than one innocent young lamb, and you are no exception, not in front of him, not when he has already managed to see all your innermost secrets, seep through locked doors and rusty keyholes, undressing you layer by layer, sweet speech, warm drinks, a heavy and warm hand on your knee until you give in.

you promised, but john's kisses are as tart as whiskey and cigars, sweeter than honey and candies that burn the palate, his touches are deep, digging nails and fingers into the softness of the flesh, and at the same time stroking along all the curves, softening, he smells of something woody sea, tickling the nose and neck, where his beard scratches sensitively, chasing the kisses and bites, blossoming flowers of hickeys left behind, making you arch towards him pliantly, cling to his broad shoulders and strong forearms.

john lays you out in front of him more easily than poker cards, puts you back together easier than tetris, looks at a naked, vulnerable body with an undisguised, smoldering desire and a clear plan, not allowing himself a drop of pleasure until he satisfies you in the first place, no matter how hurting his cock looks, swollen and blazing rudy, beading pearls of leaking precum, heavy between his hairy legs, bracketing yours, as if to cage.

even when you pull at his hair, sighing languidly and moaning softly — telling him that it will take too long, it's not worth it, his growl shuts you up with a shudder of your spine, his calloused fingers running through the sopping mess of your cunt, stroking the folds, slippery and wet, fluttering at the touch along with the clench of your hole, needy and pulsating, eager for his hands and mouth as he get's to his work.

slick smeared all the way up to your labia, glistening all over your flesh, your thighs, as john's thumb runs up your sex in wonder, assessing, staining sticky and salty, savoring your tiny reactions, little twitches, shudders, sensitive keens from above, relaxing you to the point where you slip along the edges of your bubble, hazy and malleable, and only then he gives your cunt his mouth.

licking hungrily up the seam of your cunt, the savory taste coating his tongue right away, pulling a thundering groan, as he laves over, sucking at the hardened little nub he bumps into, slurping in his hot, drooling mouth, as your slick starts matting his messed beard, while you throb beneath his swelling lips, making him alternate between sucking and lapping up what slick gushes from you in shining rivulets, your body brimming with need, pleasure rolling in, arousal so sudden and strong your blood feels thick with it.

it's comes harder, this time, maybe because you denied yourself a person's sexual contact for too long, but this time, you cum with your legs clamping tight from being unable to fight this electricity, zapping through your whole body as you flood john's mouth with your slick, your back bowing, crumpling the sheets below as you almost hit your head against the headboard, his warm palm settling over the top, shielding, as you hiccup a chorus of moans, under the rasping coo of his voice, no note of being full of himself, cocky, just sweet encouragement of you.

only then, when sure that you've been at the throes of your pleasure, john acknowledges the bobbing weight of his painfully engorged, hard cock, wrapping a calloused palm around the length, slicked from the amount of pre his skin is coated in, jerking once, twice, thumbing against his slit with a huffed grunt of pleasure, before lining towards your gaping hole, the messy curls of his pubic hair brushing against your tingling, now sensitive skin, as you stretch around the girth of him, feeded gently till he's bottoming out.

mind still sluggish with lust, you push your his hips down, trying to take more, to make the deliciously slow thrusts turn into something more, rougher, as your blood sings for it, so john pulls back, lifts your hips, grip more bruising, and blessedly pumps you deep, crowding, cocooning you with his big, brawny body, snapping his broad hips harder and harder, the force echoing as a slaps of skin on skin, the wet squelches, the once again growing pressure inside your stomach is immaculate, heavy.

bodies flush together, john rocks gently into your tight heat, trying to prolong this pleasure, feeling, how you get closer again, so much quicker than any usual, the feeling of it overwhelming you, making your body trash, head hitting the pillows beneath, but he's heavy over your body, and it's comforts you, in a way, as chapped lips kiss your shoulder, and then he nuzzles against your temple.

breathing you in, smearing away your sweat, as you tremble with the need to cum, gasping for it, rocking, clenching with a shuddering twitch of your hips, sensitive and primed for another orgasm, and when your head rolls back with an arch of your kiss bitten neck, white hot pleasure blurring your vision, your every muscle tenses and then you come again, erupting in what feels like a torrent, and john whispers only lulling comfort and proud syllables, groaning deep as he cums himself, shuddering with you.

you're left feeling spent, muscles going lax, sagging into the mattress and crumpled bedding below, it's like your mind gotten into submission, too knocked out by onslaught of all the feelings that your system shut down, and you won't even move to rise up, john's breath coming up close, hard and puffing, as he kisses the marks over your throat as you recover, white spots still dotting the vision, legs unresponsive, so you just curl, and he drags his mouth over your warm skin, each kiss as a reward.

he won't say too much, wouldn't even bring what happened during sex, he has no permission to, no control over your body, it's only your merit that you trusted, relaxed, let the pleasure slip through your fingertips and climb higher, even if slowly, john just happened to be there at the right time, and he won't oblige you to anything, as you slowly fall asleep in his arms — but if you'll linger in the morning instead of disappearing away, he won't mind cooking you breakfast.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[pure-smut]

babysitting.

featuring: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

contains: you're megumi's babysitter and toji pays for "extra services", might be slightly ooc bc we know toji is always broke as hell, age gap, dubcon if you squint, oral (m and f receiving), face fucking, doggy, unprotected s*x, creampie, breeding k*nk at the end

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

word count: 2.4k

masterlist

MDNI | 18+ content

You’ve been babysitting twice a week for Toji Fushiguro’s toddler for around two months now and he’s barely said more than five words to you.

He pays you on time, he comes back home when he says he will, and his toddler, Megumi, is a sweet little boy who’s easy to take care of. So it doesn’t bother you that Toji doesn’t really talk to you – you’re a broke college student and babysitting a couple of evenings a night is just a way to keep your head above water. As long as he pays, you keep to yourself and that suits you.

Until he offers something more.

Megumi’s been tucked into bed and you’re in the living room, watching TV until Toji comes home. He’s usually back around midnight so you kill time until then, checking in on Megumi every so often. When the front door opens and Toji comes in, you barely glance up from your phone.

Toji usually leaves your money on the kitchen counter for you to collect on your way out before he goes straight to bed. This time though, when you stretch and stand from the couch, he’s lingering in the doorway. You startle, not expecting him.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly.

Toji leans with his forearm against the doorway, looking at you. You feel like you’re under a microscope suddenly and you forget what to do with your hands, wringing them nervously in front of you.

“Um. Megumi was fine tonight, a bit fussy with dinner but nothing major,” you say, wondering if he’s finally looking for an update on minding his son. “He’s asleep upstairs, I just checked on him about thirty minutes ago.”

Toji tilts his chin up, studying you through a half-lidded gaze. You’re struggling to keep eye contact with him, your eyes glancing over his sculped torso, barely concealed by his black compression shirt. You cough awkwardly.

“Anyway,” you say. “I’ll get out of your hair now.”

You make to move past him but his large form is blocking the doorway.

“Um…”

“Your cash is in the kitchen,” Toji says and you blink up at him, wondering why he’s telling you something you already know. “And…”

Toji pulls another wad of cash from his sweatpants pocket.

“I have extra for you, if you want it.”

Your eyes widen at the money in his hands. You’re barely scraping by this month and some extra money would really help. But…

“Extra for what?” you ask, brow furrowed.

Toji smirks at you, his scarred lips lifting at the corner.

“Let’s see…” he says, flicking through the notes. “$50 to let me lick your pussy…”

You inhale sharply, mouth dropping open, but Toji continues on as if nothing’s wrong.

“$100 to suck my dick, $150 to let me fuck you aaaand…” Toji holds up the entire wad of cash with a grin. “$2,000 if you do all of it.”

Your lungs constrict. You swallow thickly as your eyes dart between Toji’s easy smile and the cash he’s dangling in front of you.

You open your mouth, your first instinct to tell him to shove his money and storm out. But the more you think about it…

Toji watches you close your mouth, eyes on the money, and knows he has you. He’s not in any rush – he can be patient. He’s been waiting all this time for a payload like this so he could entice you with it. He watches as you dither in front of him, hands fidgeting.

You think about all the nights you’ve lived off ramen and plain bread, the amount of textbooks you had to pirate because you couldn’t afford them, your savings as they slowly dwindle every month.

And then you think about the broad man in front of you, Megumi’s dad, who isn’t even bad looking. You’ve had worse one-night stands and you didn’t even get paid for them. So what’s the problem, really?

You nibble at your bottom lip.

“Okay,” you eventually say, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll do all of it.”

Toji grins a little wider.

“Smart choice, kid.”

He pushes past you, putting the wad of cash down onto the coffee table, and beckons you over.

“Strip and get on the couch,” he says firmly. “And spread your legs for me.”

Fuck, why was that so hot? You already feel a coil of heat in your lower stomach even as your hands tremble, tugging off your top and leggings. You’re in your underwear, hesitating, when Toji frowns at you.

“I said strip. That means everything.”

You swallow past the lump in your throat and do what he says. You fight the urge to cover yourself as your bra and panties drop to the floor. Instead, you sit back on the couch like he said and spread your legs.

Toji drops to his knees in front of you, grabbing your hips and pulling your further forward. You’re already glistening with arousal, making him smirk. He dips his head and parts your folds with his tongue, licking you deep.

“Ah…” you gasp softly as you feel his tongue for the first time, hot and soft against your lips.

It feels strange to have someone eating you out when you haven’t even kissed, have barely even spoken before now, but as Toji’s tongue probes your hole, you quickly lose yourself to him.

His thick tongue slides inside you, his mouth flush to your pussy as he licks you deep. You automatically grind against him, your hand in his hair, a whimper leaving your lips.

Toji always wondered what you taste like, had fisted his cock to the thought of this before every time you were in his house in your tight leggings. He often fantasised about this, about buying your dignity and making you spread your legs for him. As he moves up to your clit, feeling it swollen with arousal, his cock throbs.

You’re this turned on already. Your pussy was practically waiting for him, already slick and primed for a good fucking. Toji hoped you’d be, hoped he’d found a perfect little live-in fucktoy. And he has.

Toji strokes the flat of his tongue over your clit, sucking it with just enough pressure to make a lustful moan roll off your lips. You’ve had people go down on you before but it never felt like this.

Toji keeps sucking and licking your sensitive nub as he presses a thick finger inside you. You clench around him and it makes his cock even harder, anticipating the feel of you around him later. He curves his finger, finding your sensitive spot and stroking it until your back curves.

“F-Fuck… Toji, I… I’m…”

You try to stammer out a sentence but you’re too close, your brows knitted in the middle, your thighs wrapped around his head. Toji continues to stroke you on the inside as he feels your clit throb against his tongue.

It’s too much.

You cry out, gripping his hair hard as you cum on Toji’s tongue, your thighs shaking against his head.

Toji laps up your juices, licking you through your orgasm until you’re jerking and shuddering under him. You taste too damn good and you’re so fucking wet for him. He didn’t realise eating your sweet little pussy would get him this hard but his cock is aching, begging to be touched.

Toji pulls back with a groan, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Before you realise what’s happening, he climbs on top of you, kneeling with his knees on either side of you as he presses his cock to your mouth.

Your head is against the back of the sofa, slumped in the seat and half-dazed from your orgasm as you feel his fat mushroom tip on your lips. It’s slick with precum and you open your eyes long enough to see the size of it. You don’t have time to worry whether you can take it – Toji doesn’t give you time – before he’s forcing his cock past your lips.

You open your mouth to try and accommodate him but he’s so thick. You swirl your tongue over his sensitive head and Toji lets out a long groan in relief. You hot mouth on his cock makes him leak even more precum which you dutifully lick up.

“That’s it. Good girl,” Toji praises you as he pulls back slightly only to push even deeper.

You have nowhere to turn, your head pressed against the back of the couch as Toji starts to fuck your mouth. You try to keep your jaw slack, your tongue licking along the fat vein running across the underside of his shaft as Toji slowly picks up speed.

You gag as he hits the back of your throat but Toji doesn’t let up, using your thick saliva as lube to face fuck you harder. Your eyes water, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as the slopping sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your mouth fill the room.

Toji’s hard as a rock, the heavenly feel of your mouth enough to make him want to cum. He’s tempted, loving the idea of making you swallow his load. He bets you’d struggle to swallow it all, his cum dribbling out of your mouth as he scoops it up with his fingers and forces it back in your mouth, forces you to suck his fingers clean.

“Ah, fuck…” Toji grabs the back of the couch as leverage, rocking his hips as he continues to use your mouth as a fleshlight.

You know it’s rough and degrading but it’s only making you hornier. You rub your thighs together, feeling them slick with your arousal, desperate for some more friction on your clit. Toji notices and grins down at you.

“You gettin’ turned on, baby?” he taunts. “You gettin’ wet from sucking me off?”

Toji’s hit the jackpot with you. It’s been a while since he felt this good with a woman, since he found such a perfect little slut to fulfil his needs and look after his son.

Toji pulls himself from your mouth, thick strings of saliva between your lips and his cock. You gasp for breath, your eyes wet and cheeks flushed. Fuck, you look so sexy like this. Toji needs to have you now.

He grabs you by the wrist, pulling you up roughly before pushing you over the arm of the couch, bending you over. You’re too fucked out to protest, moving limply where he puts you as Toji kicks your legs open.

You can only whimper as you feel his thick tip prod at your entrance. You clench, nervous, knowing how big he is, as Toji slowly sinks his girth inside you.

You’re tight but you’re ready, squeezing around Toji as he pushes deep. The combination of his saliva-slicked cock and your dripping pussy means there’s no pain, only a delicious stretch as your walls wrap around Toji. He keeps pushing, pushing, until he’s bottomed out, his pelvis flush to your ass.

Toji takes a second to savour the moment. You feel indescribable. Your silky walls are so hot, so pillowy soft, even as you clench around him it feels like you’re milking his cock.

“Perfect,” he growls. “My perfect little fucktoy.”

Toji grabs your hips, sinking his fingers in hard as he withdraws. After fucking your pretty little mouth, he’s already close and he wants to prolong it as much as possible. But a feral need overtakes him.

He starts to slam into you, fucking you wildly as you cry out beneath him.

“Shh,” he hushes you even as he doesn’t break pace. “Don’t want to wake up little Megumi, do we?”

His words silence you down to a whimper as you press your face into the couch cushion to smother your moans. Toji bullies his cock into you, his eyes glued on your cunt as your lips wrap around him, sucking him in. He knows you haven’t cum yet, not from him fucking you, so he pulls your hips back slightly, leaving enough of a gap between you and the sofa so he can reach under you and play with your clit.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to stop from crying out again. Your orgasm builds from a combination of Toji deftly rubbing your sensitive nub and the way his cock is rubbing against your sensitive walls, each stroke sending your nerves alight.

Toji’s not overly concerned with your pleasure, not really, but he knows your perfect pussy will feel even better if you cum on his cock. Plus, he knows if he draws a second orgasm from you, it’ll be much harder for you to protest the next time. So he grits his teeth, delaying his own orgasm until he can feel yours.

It doesn’t take long.

You clench your hands into fists, moaning into the cushion as you clamp down around him. Toji was right – you feel even better. Your walls massage his cock, fluttering around him in a way that’s making him see spots.

Finally, he lets go.

“Fuck fuck fuuuuck.”

Toji buries himself to the hilt, exploding inside you. You feel his cum hit your walls, painting your pussy white as he fills to you the brim with load after load. His cock twitches with each wave of pleasure, his grip hard enough to leave bruises on your hips.

Your collapse onto the couch, still bent over as Toji slowly withdraws. A flood of his cum follows, spilling down your thighs, but your limbs are too heavy to move. It doesn’t matter though because Toji scoops you up, carrying you upstairs to his bedroom.

You feel a wet cloth between your legs, cleaning you up as you lie on his bed. You want to speak but you’re too dazed, weariness sweeping over your body.

Toji climbs into bed next to you, pulling you to him so you’re lying on his chest. For the first time that night, he tips his head down to kiss you.

He’s surprisingly tender, kissing you softly as his tongue gently laps into your mouth. You kiss him back as he pulls your leg over his, nestling it between his thighs.

“You did so well tonight,” he tells you. “Are you on birth control, baby?”

You stir at his question, your brain churning slowly.

“Um… no…” The implications begin to dawn on you. “S-Shit. I need to get Plan B.”

Toji hushes you with another kiss, his hand idly running up and down your thigh.

“I don’t think there’s any need for that,” he says with a smile. “Let’s give Megumi a little brother or sister, hm?”

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[cozmic-ash]

"#you don’t buy a sketchbook every time for one sketch"

UGH yes thank you lmao like, yall really keep one million separate tiny files for individual sketches???? I generally keep all of my related sketches in one file, separated by fandom, and only move something out of that file if I plan to polish it up into something more finished. I make a new sketch file probably every six months or so, sometimes sooner or later depending on how full the file gets (I do not, for example, let it get to the point where the program lags).

The thought of having a shit-ton of tiny little individual files for every sketch gives me anxiety

I think it's much more common than the people who are reacting hyperbolically think it is lol

This was the file for all my Potion Permit sketching (minus the 'shh' folder which is nsft so not shown here, but includes like half a dozen more sketches)

WAIT GENUINE QUESTION FOR ARTISTS, DO YOU GUYS NOT USE THE SAME CANVAS FOR MULTIPLE DRAWINGS???? YOU JUST MAKE A NEW ONE EVERYTIME??

[heliosunny]

Hello! I was wondering if you are familiar with Dr. Stone? Id like to request a fanfic of both Yandere Stanley Snyder and Xeno!

Reader was a military Doctor before the petrification, they were close friends with both Stanley and Xeno. Id say reader is a soft spoken person kind of like, she has this kind face, always has a small smile plastered.

She then secretly ask for a transfer to a different branch of military— aka Japan— due to “minor circumstances”. She noticed how slowly possessive and obsessive the two became towards her. So she asked for a transfer, without telling them, maybe telling the commander to keep her transfer a secret. She had to leave before anything got to drastic between the two.

After petrification, shes been revived by senku, to go on a voyage to america! She already knew it she’d meet them again eventually.

The rest is up to you!

Yandere!Xeno x Fem!Reader x Yandere!Stanley

"Contains different details from the manga. For more, read the manga—it's worth it!"

The room smelled of coffee and gunpowder. It was a scent you had grown used to, one that clung to your uniform and seeped into your skin. The base was quiet at this hour—most soldiers either asleep or out on assignment. But here, it was just the three of you.

Xeno sat at his desk, his fingers turning the pages of some scientific journal you had no doubt he had already read a dozen times over. His sharp eyes flickered to you briefly before returning to his reading. Stanley, meanwhile, lounged on the couch, his rifle resting against the armrest within easy reach.

And then there was you, sitting at the table with your hands wrapped around a warm mug. The conversation had been light for most of the night—memories of past missions, idle jokes—but you could feel the weight in the air.

“Are you tired?”

You caught the way his fingers paused mid-turn on the page and replied with a smile “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nothing important.”

Neither of them seemed convinced.

“You’ve been distracted lately.” Xeno leaned forward slightly, studying you in that way that made you feel like a specimen under his microscope. “It concerns me.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re hiding something.”

“I think you’re both just overthinking it.”

You knew them too well to believe they would let this go.

You had to leave soon.

----

The wind whipped against your face as you stood on the deck of the ship, the vast ocean stretching endlessly before you.

It had been years since that night, since you left them without a word. You had convinced the commander to keep your transfer classified, ensured that no information about your whereabouts would reach them. You had done everything right.

And yet, the past was impossible to outrun.

“You okay?” A familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts. You turned to see Kohaku.

“Yeah. Just lost in thought.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. Instead, she glanced out at the sea. “We’ll be in America soon.”

You already knew that. You had known from the moment Senku asked you to join this mission that you would see them again.

You wondered how much of the past still remained in them.

And how much they would make you pay for leaving.

The first time you heard his voice again, it was like a ghost from the past had come back to haunt you.

“Greetings. I take it this is your preferred frequency for communication?”

Even after all these years, you recognized it instantly.

Xeno.

You didn’t react outwardly, keeping your usual smile as if nothing was amiss. But inside, your heart pounded. It was too soon. You had known you would meet them eventually, but not like this. Not with him still unaware of your presence.

And then the situation escalated.

Gen was caught.

You kept up the act, playing along with the crew as they devised a plan. The moment Taiju accepted to play as the "scientist" of their group, you knew where this was heading.

You stayed close to the others as they moved, keeping your presence blended into the background. You could feel it—the moment Stanley took his position. He was out there.

And then, as he peered through the scope, lining up his shot—

He saw you.

For the first time in years, his eyes locked onto yours. His body language shifted, the steadiness of his aim wavering for just a fraction of a second. It was barely noticeable to anyone else.

As the plan unfolded, you kept your expression neutral, your small smile never faltering.

Then, Luna arrived, just as expected.

Whatever will be, will be.

You felt your heart lurch as the bullets tore through Senku, his body jerking under the force. Even though you had prepared for it, the sight still made something tighten in your chest.

Stanley never left a job unfinished. He was already on his way down before the dust even settled, moving with the cold efficiency that made him the military’s best.

Senku wasn't dead. You knew that much. His intelligence was the only thing that kept him breathing, tricking them into thinking they had succeeded. But you also knew he would need help.

You needed to get to him.

Before you could take a step, a strong hand seized your wrist and wrenched you backward, his grip like a shackle that refused to break. You stiffened, instinct screaming at you to resist—but you didn’t. You knew better. So, with a quiet breath, you let him.

It wasn’t compliance. It was strategy.

You could feel the way his grip tightened ever so slightly, like he thought you might disappear again if he let go.

You exhaled slowly, keeping your voice steady as you spoke for the first time.

“Stan.”

He pressed on, yet his fingers tightened—like a man gripping onto a ghost he feared might slip away.

The walk to Xeno’s base was silent, but the weight in the air was suffocating. The moment the doors opened, you were met with the sight of Xeno speaking to Gen.

Shock flickered across Gen's face. Not because he recognized you, but because he understood what your presence here meant. Something had gone horribly wrong for Senku’s team.

Xeno’s reaction was much more subtle, but you didn’t miss it. His eyes widened just a fraction before settling into something unreadable, his lips parting ever so slightly as if he meant to say something but hadn’t yet found the words.

The silence stretched for only a moment before Stanley shoved you further inside, forcing Gen to stumble backward slightly.

“Take him away”

Gen blinked, his eyes darting between you, Stanley, and Xeno, as if piecing together a puzzle far more complex than he’d anticipated. He didn’t resist as he was dragged away, but his parting glance was full of unspoken questions.

And then, it was just the three of you.

The door shut behind Gen, the echo ringing in your ears. Xeno exhaled, placing his gloved hands on the desk in front of him.

“I see,” he murmured. “So it truly is you.”

“It’s been a long time, Xeno.”

Xeno leaned back in his chair, “You left,” he finally said. “No warning. No goodbye.”

Stanley crossed his arms beside you, “Did you really think we wouldn’t find out eventually?”

“It was never about hiding forever.”

“Then what was it about?”

You met his gaze head-on. “I left because you two were becoming dangerous.”

“You were my closest friends,” you continued, “But you both started treating me like something to be possessed. It was only a matter of time before it got worse. So I left before it did.”

Stanley scoffed, “And now you’re with them?”

You nodded. “I made my choice.”

Xeno hummed, shaking his head. “Your choices have always been questionable. But that’s alright.”

You stiffened, just slightly, as Xeno stood up from his seat, stepping toward you with the same calculating grace he always had. Stanley didn’t move, but you could feel the way his gaze bore into you.

“You seem to have forgotten” Xeno murmured, stopping just before you, “It’s our job to educate those who have lost their way.”

“I’m afraid we’ll have to recondition that misguided loyalty of yours.”

Stanley exhaled through his nose, finally speaking.

“You’re not going anywhere this time.”

Life under their watch felt suffocating.

As expected, you were assigned to treat the injured. That part wasn’t unusual; they always respected your medical skills, and Xeno, at least, had the sense to recognize that you were more valuable this way than locked in a cell.

But outside of that?

You were constantly watched.

Everywhere you went, a guard followed. Even within the medical tent, you could feel eyes on you at all times—whether it was one of Stanley’s men stationed near the entrance or Stanley himself, sitting in the corner, pretending to clean his gun while his gaze barely left you.

Before, Xeno and Stanley had been focused on conquering Senku’s group, but now? Now it felt like their primary mission was keeping you from slipping away.

You had tried to sneak out one night, hoping to reach Gen—maybe pass along a message, maybe get some information—but the second you stepped outside, a guard was already there. Stanley’s men were efficient. They didn’t scold or punish you. They simply looked at you, silent and expectant, like they had been waiting for you to return on your own.

You considered some possibilities. Maybe slipping away during battle. The risk is that you'd have to time it perfectly or else they'd catch you trying to run.

Second plan is to feign sickness. If you pretended to be sick or weak, you could manipulate Xeno into keeping you inside with fewer guards. If you were alone, you might find a way out. But he himself is a scientist. He’d check your vitals, run tests. If he caught on, he’d be even more controlling.

You had options. But each one came with a price.

And with Stanley and Xeno watching your every move, failure wasn’t something you could afford.

----

Seated across from Xeno in his study, you kept your usual smile as he questioned you about Senku and his people. You expected this. It was only natural for him to want intelligence on his opponent.

So, you answered. But you only gave him general truths—nothing that could be used against them. Senku was resourceful. Kohaku was strong. Chrome was a fast learner. All things he would eventually figure out on his own, but you knew he wasn’t satisfied.

Stanley, standing off to the side, didn’t bother hiding his displeasure.

But he didn’t interfere.

Because, no matter how much Stanley wanted results, he had his own rules.

He never laid a hand on you.

Not over something like this.

Because you weren’t his enemy.

“Tell me,” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “How have you been?”

The change in topic caught you off guard.

“You left us. And yet, here you are again.” His fingers tapped against the table. “Surely, you must have something to say about all that time apart.”

Deep down, a part of you did miss them.

You missed the conversations with Xeno, the way his mind worked, the long nights spent debating theories over coffee. You missed the quiet moments with Stanley, those rare times when he let his guard down, when it was just the three of you against the world.

The battlefield. The victories. The losses. The camaraderie.

You had been through so much together.

And no matter how much you wanted to deny it, there had been happiness in that time too.

“I’ve been alright,” you finally said. “Things… changed after I left. But I adapted.”

Xeno’s lips curled in amusement. “Adapted? That’s all?”

“That’s what humans do, isn’t it?”

“You didn’t have to.”

You turned your gaze toward him, finding him watching you intently. Like he was watching a traitor.

“I did.”

“And yet, you still ended up back in our hands.”

You weren’t planning to stay.

You couldn't stop thinking about Senku. That young man brought you a sense of comfort, nothing more.

Even as you went about your duties, tending to the wounded, patching up soldiers who had no idea of the weight pressing on your shoulders—you thought of him.

Senku was brilliant. He always had a plan, always worked five steps ahead.

You knew, deep down, that he must have something in place. Some way to turn the situation in his favor.

But doubt still lingered.

Had he survived? Did he have a counter to Stanley’s bullet? Or had fate finally caught up to him?

Then came the morning.

The atmosphere was different.

You noticed it immediately—the way the soldiers moved with more urgency, the way murmurs rippled through the camp.

You were barely given time to process before you overheard the words that sent your heart plummeting:

“Today's the day we get rid of Senku Ishigami.”

You had to do something.

The tunnel plan worked faster than you expected.

One moment, you were scrambling for a way to slow Stanley’s men down, and the next—Chrome and the others had broken through, executing the plan with perfect timing. The tables turned in an instant.

And now, Xeno was their hostage.

That didn’t shake him, of course. But as you walked back with Senku’s group, checking on their injuries and making sure no one was in immediate danger, you noticed something—

Xeno had been watching you.

He saw the way you moved among Senku’s team, the way you smiled more freely, the way your shoulders weren’t weighed down as they had been in his camp.

You were happier.

Even as you checked his vitals, treating him no differently from the others, he said nothing about it. Not yet.

“You seem… comfortable” Xeno mused, watching you from where he was seated. “More than I recall you ever being.”

“I suppose I am.”

“And here I thought our time together had its charms.”

“It did,” you admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I want to go back.”

He was never one to show his emotions outright. But this was different.

It wasn’t frustration over being captured.

It was personal.

And before you could even process why, he spoke again, quieter this time.

“You favor him now.”

“What?”

“Senku.” Xeno’s gaze was sharp, “You favor him.”

You exhaled softly, shaking your head. “It’s not about favor, Xeno. I made my choice.”

“I wonder.” He leaned forward slightly, a knowing glint in his eye. “Does he even realize?”

“What are we talking about?”

You turned to see Senku approaching. He hadn’t been listening, too focused on whatever plan was forming in his mind, his attention entirely devoted to the future.

“Nothing of importance,” he mused, reclining back slightly. “At least, not to you.”

Senku just gave him a look, clearly unimpressed, before turning to you. “We’re moving soon. Think you can help me with some calculations?”

You nodded without hesitation, following him without a second thought.

And behind you, Xeno sat in silence, watching your retreating figure.

His jealousy simmered beneath the surface, unspoken but undeniable.

Because unlike him—

Senku had never needed to try to earn your attention.

----

Stanley finally caught up.

You had known, deep down, that this moment was inevitable. No matter how far Senku’s team got, no matter how many steps ahead they planned, Stanley Snyder was relentless. He was a man who finished his missions, no matter the cost.

And now, he had won.

His men closed in swiftly, surrounding you and the others with a precision that left no room for struggle. Xeno, of course, was the first to be retrieved. It was a swift, effortless transition—one moment he was a captive, and the next, he was back where he belonged, standing by Stanley’s side with that unreadable smirk, as if he had never been caught at all.

But when Stanley’s eyes landed on you, there was something different.

He didn’t ask you to come back.

He expected it.

And in that moment, you knew there was no escaping this—not without bloodshed.

So, you made your choice.

You surrendered.

“If I go back with you,” you said, “stop hurting them. Stop targeting innocent people.”

You couldn’t tell if he was satisfied or frustrated that you were giving in so easily.

“A noble request.”

“You’ll do it,” you said firmly. “Both of you.”

Stanley finally nodded.

“We’ve got what we came for,” he said simply. “No need to waste bullets.”

Relief flooded you, but it was brief.

Because even as Stanley’s men began to pull back, even as you took a step toward them, leaving Senku’s team behind, you knew this wasn’t over.

There was still one thing left.

You turned back to Senku’s group, “Before I go,” you said, “let me treat the injured one last time.”

Stanley didn’t stop you. Neither did Xeno.

Because in the end, for all their control over your life—this was the one thing they never denied you.

So, you moved through the group, checking wounds, patching up what you could, leaving them with what little you had left to give.

And then—

You walked away.

And you didn’t look back.

You didn’t acknowledge Xeno. You didn’t acknowledge Stanley.

They had won. You were here. But that didn’t mean you had to give them the satisfaction of cooperation.

And they knew it.

Which was why they lied to you.

It wasn’t until later that you realized Senku had been taken, smuggled into their hands like some rare commodity.

You stormed to find him, half-expecting to see him restrained or beaten—but instead, you found him seated casually, looking at you like nothing was wrong.

"Ah, figured you'd find out sooner or later." Senku’s voice was as light as ever, as if this was all part of some grand experiment he was running.

“They lied to me.”

“Well, yeah,” he said bluntly. “But hey, don’t take it too hard. Life as a hostage? Not the worst thing in the world. Gives me a good chance to talk to Xeno again.”

“Senku...”

“Relax,” he grinned. “I was planning to get captured anyway.”

Of course he was.

This was Senku.

Still, it didn’t make the bitter taste in your mouth go away.

Soon enough, Stanley’s men came to take him.

You didn’t get a chance to say much more before he was gone, dragged off to wherever they intended to keep him.

Which left you.

And Stanley.

“Come with me.”

You hesitated, but followed. Because even after all this time, even after everything, some part of you still wanted to hear what he had to say.

It was a mess, how your conversation is heading.

"You think you get to be mad? You left. You vanished without a damn word. And now you want to stand there and act like you're the victim?"

"I did what I had to do, Stan."

"And what exactly did that accomplish? Huh? Because from where I’m standing, all it did was make everything worse."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "You started dragging people into this! You shot people, Stanley! Do you even hear yourself?"

"You think this started because of me?" His voice rose. "No. It started the second you walked away."

There it was. The weight of his suffering, compressed into sharp words.

"Stanley…"

But it wasn’t enough.

He saw the way your expression softened, and for some reason, that seemed to push him over the edge.

Because suddenly, he was too close.

Before you could react, his hands grabbed your wrist, pulling you in—

Smack

The slap came before you even thought about it.

Stanley didn’t so much as waver. Your hand throbbed, your breath hitched, but all it did was cast a deeper shadow in his gaze.

"You—"

His fingers curled under your chin, guiding your face to meet his— And then he kissed you, leaving no room for escape.

It was neither tender nor forgiving.

It was fierce, unrelenting—more a sentence than a kiss.

You struggled, but Stanley was stronger. And just as quickly, he bit down. You gasped, the sting of pain snapping you back, but he didn’t pull away.

"That’s for running away."

Then, slowly—he released you.

You stumbled back, your breath uneven, your heart slamming against your ribs.

----

Xeno called for you.

You weren’t sure why, but you went anyway. Maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was exhaustion from your fight with Stanley—either way, your feet carried you toward him before you even processed it.

And when you arrived, you found them. Xeno and Senku.

They were testing something. Their voices wove together in rapid exchanges, debating theories, tweaking results.

For a moment, you forgot the tension.

You had seen this before—Xeno, completely immersed in his work, in the beauty of creation. There was a time when his passion had been purer, when he had built things not for war, but for the sake of discovery itself.

And for the first time in years, you saw glimpses of that man again.

Then his gaze lifted—and met yours.

It was only for a second, but that second was enough.

Because his eyes softened.

Because Senku—smart as always, perceptive as ever— stood up, stretched lazily, and excused himself.

The silence settled between you like an old companion.

“You always had a habit of watching in silence.”

“I assume Stanley has already had his… discussion with you.”

You touched your lower lip out of instinct. Still, you didn’t reply.

“I must say, I didn’t expect to feel jealous of Senku. You look at him differently, you know. There’s a fondness there—one you used to reserve for me.”

“That’s not—”

“Not true?” He hummed. “Perhaps. Or perhaps, without realizing it, you’ve found yourself drawn to something you once admired in me. A scientist who dreams.”

You frowned, looking away. “I admired the man you used to be.”

“Then allow me to ask—if I were to return to that man… would you return to me?”

You walked away, he was always careful choosing his own words. You need to get some air, away from the mess you've got yourself in.

----

The moment you heard the news, everything else faded.

Stanley had been shot.

It was a life-or-death situation—one that immediately demanded your attention. And not just yours. Xeno and Senku, despite their clashing ideals, were both drawn into it.

You barely processed the rush of activity, the hurried movements of people scrambling to stabilize him.

All you knew—all that mattered—was that he had survived. Barely.

By some stroke of sheer luck, the bullet had missed anything vital. But the damage was still severe. His body had taken too much, and now, he lay there—unconscious.

And you refused to leave his side.

Days passed.

You tended to his wounds, carefully monitoring every breath, every shift in his condition.

When his fever spiked, you were there to cool him down. When his breathing faltered, you were there to steady him.

It was exhausting. But you never wavered.

Because no matter what had happened between you, no matter the choices he made, the sins he bore—

Stanley Snyder was still your Stanley.

And you couldn’t bear to lose him.

The moment Stanley’s eyes cracked open, you felt it.

A sharp intake of breath—his first real one in days. His fingers twitched slightly, then tightened into a weak fist.

Your heart nearly stopped.

“…Stan?” Your voice was hoarse from exhaustion, but the relief in it was undeniable.

His gaze, unfocused at first, slowly sharpened. He blinked sluggishly, taking in his surroundings—then, finally, you.

“…You look like shit”

You let out a breathless laugh, something between amusement and sheer relief. “And you nearly died.”

Stanley only grunted, shifting slightly before wincing at the pain. His body was still weak, but the fact that he was alive, awake— that was enough for now.

Your exhaustion crashed down all at once. The worry, the sleepless nights, the weight of it all—it finally caught up to you.

You barely managed to mumble, “Welcome back,” before your body gave out.

You slumped forward, too drained to keep yourself upright.

Before you could hit the edge of the bed, a hand caught you.

Not Stanley’s.

Xeno.

“You two are absolute idiots who should never be left unsupervised.”

Stanley let out a weak chuckle. “Takes one to know one.”

Xeno pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m surrounded by fools.”

But he still made sure you were comfortable, still adjusted your position so you wouldn’t wake up with a sore neck.

And despite the bickering, despite everything—

There was relief in his gaze, too.

----

You woke up to a boom.

Your body jolted upright before your brain even caught up. For a split second, panic surged through you—but when no immediate threat followed, you exhaled slowly.

A failed experiment, most likely.

Shaking off the haze of sleep, you made your way to the kitchen area. Your stomach growled—right, you hadn’t eaten properly in days. Tending to Stanley had taken up all your energy, and now that he was stable, your body was demanding food.

You weren’t exactly a chef, but your cooking was… decent enough.

So, you got to work.

The scent of food gradually filled the air.

And like moths to a flame, they came.

First, a few curious glances. Then, casual comments. And before you knew it, half the damn base was hovering nearby, eyes practically shining with anticipation.

“Whoa! This smells amazing!”

“Wait, you can cook? Why haven’t you done this before?!”

You chuckled softly as the compliments rolled in, handing out portions. It had been so long since you sat down like this—surrounded by people, eating together. It was almost enough to make you forget everything else.

Because while you were busy laughing and chatting—

Stanley and Xeno were busy watching.

They sat on either side of you, their presence suffocating yet unnoticed by everyone else.

And every time someone praised your cooking—every time someone so much as smiled at you—

A deathly glare followed.

----

The peaceful moments didn't last for long.

"You’re with me today."

Stanley always volunteered you for tasks that required your presence.

The injured near his post? You had to treat them. Checking the perimeter? You were expected to accompany him. A supply run? Not without him.

"I trust her judgment more than anyone else’s," Stanley had said casually one day. "If someone’s patching up my men, it’ll be her."

You didn’t get a say.

And Xeno?

He ensured that all medical responsibilities fell under him and you.

"Surely, you wouldn’t want an incompetent pair of hands dealing with something so fragile, right?" Xeno murmured, blocking your path with a smile. "Stay here—your presence is necessary."

You soon realized that if someone needed medical treatment, they were denied access unless you were personally dealing with it.

Then came another time when they kept reminding you of the past.

"You used to say we made a good team." Stanley’s voice was casual. "You still believe that, don’t you?"

"That was a long time ago."

"Doesn’t change anything."

"Your past decisions led you here," he mused, "I find it fascinating how fate corrects itself, don’t you?"

"Fate didn’t bring me here"

Xeno simply smiled.

"Then tell me, why do you look at us the way you did back then?"

You had no answer.

Because no matter what you said—they twisted it.

They turned your past into proof that you belonged to them.

And the worst part?

You started doubting yourself.

Aside from using your words against you, they were sure to keep their presence noticeable to you.

Stanley stood too close.

If you tried to move, he was already in your way.

One evening, after being done with work, you tried to leave the room.

Stanley was leaning against the doorway.

"Where are you headed?"

"Somewhere else" you said flatly.

You moved left—he shifted left. You moved right—he blocked your path again.

"You’re not going anywhere. Not without me."

Then came the breaking point.

You had finally snapped.

"I’m not a prisoner, Stanley!" You shoved him away, furious.

You had tried to run.

And when you returned?

Your door was locked.

"You need rest" Xeno had said, unbothered.

One day, a person in the camp needed urgent medical attention.

You rushed to grab the necessary equipment—only to find the cabinets locked.

You turned to Xeno.

"You should have come to me first"

"This isn’t a game, Xeno—someone could die!"

He simply smiled.

"Then let’s not waste any time." His fingers tapped the counter, "Ask me properly."

You felt sick.

They had made sure that no matter what happened—

You had to rely on them.

-----

The night carried an unsettling weight, pressing against your skin like an unspoken omen. Stanley’s gaze had always been sharp, always observant—but tonight, it clung to you with a purpose, a silent expectancy that made the air feel tighter.

You forced yourself to stay calm, playing along with the meal as if nothing was out of place. You ate in silence, seated between Xeno and Stanley, their presence a constant, suffocating weight on either side of you. The moment you reached for your cup, Stanley's hand overlapped yours.

His fingers, rough from years of handling firearms, lightly curled over yours.

You didn’t look at him, keeping your face blank as you slowly pulled your hand away. He let you—but only because he wanted to.

Xeno, on the other hand, was watching your every move.

BOOM

A sudden explosion from outside shook the entire building. The scent of smoke and burning wood filled the air almost instantly. The camp erupted into chaos.

“They’re here.” Xeno’s voice was eerily calm despite the situation. He knew exactly what was happening.

You bolted to your feet. Soldiers rushed past the windows, panicked voices calling out orders as another loud blast sent debris flying.

This was it.

Your heart pounded as you caught a glimpse of Gen and Chrome through the smoke—Senku in the middle of them, alive. He was grinning, even after everything. You almost laughed—of course he was.

Gen’s eyes met yours, and for a brief second, relief washed over you. But before you could take a step forward—

Again, Stanley's hand clamped around your wrist.

You barely had time to react before he yanked you back, spinning you around to face him.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“They’re getting away. I have to—”

“You have to stay.”

His grip tightened just enough to bruise.

Xeno was watching, standing just a few steps away. He didn’t interfere—he didn’t need to.

You were never meant to leave.

Outside, you heard shouts of victory. Chrome and Gen had escaped with Senku.

They were gone. They’d done it. But… you were still here.

Stanley let out a slow exhale, his grip still locked around you, before his other hand rose to cup your cheek..

“You’re thinking too much,” he muttered, his thumb ghosting over your jaw. “It’s over now.”

You jerked your head away, trying to shove him off, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.

“You don’t belong with them.”

And then—Xeno stepped forward.

He sighed, shaking his head. “Honestly, you two are troublesome.”

“This was never your fight, Xeno.”

“No, perhaps not. But you are.”

He reached forward, brushing a lock of hair from your face.

You slapped his hand away. “I’ll never belong to you.”

“Tell me…Y/N,” He tilted his head, “Where else do you belong?”

Senku was free.

But you?

You were still theirs.

[seospicybin]

SEOSPICY PREVIEW.

COCKY: CHAPTER I.

Bangchan x reader. (s,f)

Synopsis: As a researcher developing a specialized condom in extra large sizes, you never expected the company’s product manager, Chris, to volunteer as a test subject—let alone for things to get this complicated. Balancing professionalism with undeniable chemistry, you must navigate a partnership that’s strictly business… or so you keep telling yourself.

Preview under the cut!

...

Chris moves first, unbuttoning the remaining buttons of his shirt with practiced ease. The fabric slips from his shoulders, revealing toned muscles beneath—broad chest, defined abs, and a confidence that makes the entire act seem effortless.

You keep your expression neutral, or at least you try to. “This is strictly professional,” you remind yourself silently.

Chris glances at you, catching the way your gaze flickers before you quickly refocus on your notes.

“Do you need me to undress completely?” he asks, his tone smooth, almost teasing.

You press your lips together before answering. “For accurate measurement, I need access to the necessary area. So… yes.”

He chuckles, a deep, warm sound. “Straight to the point.”

You don’t respond, instead focusing on preparing the measuring tape and recording sheet. Anything to keep yourself occupied while he finishes undressing.

A moment later, you hear the rustle of fabric, the sound of a belt unfastening, the subtle shift of movement. You don’t look up until Chris speaks again.

“I’m ready when you are.”

When you finally lift your gaze, your breath catches for a fraction of a second. You do your best to maintain your professionalism—but the moment you see it, all thoughts momentarily leave your head.

Chris stands before you, bare from the waist down, his body relaxed yet radiating a quiet confidence. He doesn’t shy away, doesn’t fidget—he simply waits, watching for your reaction.

You knew he had to be on the larger side to even qualify for the study, but seeing it in person is something else entirely. Bigger than you expected. Definitely bigger than you imagined.

You barely catch yourself before audibly reacting, but your throat betrays you as you swallow air, a reflex you hope he doesn’t notice.

Chris, of course, notices everything. A slow smirk tugs at his lips. “Something wrong?”

You snap out of it, quickly shaking your head as you reach for your measuring tape, trying to ignore the sudden warmth creeping up your neck. “No, nothing at all. Let’s just get this done.”

Chris chuckles, but thankfully doesn’t press further. For now.

You quickly move to retrieve a pair of latex gloves from your bag, slipping them on with practiced precision.

Chris raises an amused eyebrow. “You really came prepared, huh?”

You shoot him a pointed look. “Of course. This is an official product test.”

His lips twitch in amusement as he peeks into your open bag, catching a glimpse of all the testing materials. “What else do you have in there? A microscope? A lie detector?”

You ignore his teasing and pull out the measuring tape, standing straighter to compose yourself. “Alright. Let’s begin with the flaccid measurement.”

Chris doesn’t move, doesn’t make it easier for you. Instead, he watches—patient, unreadable—as you kneel slightly, positioning the measuring tape against him.

Your fingers brush against his skin through the latex, and you swear you feel the slightest twitch beneath your touch. You pretend not to notice. But Chris does.

And as the test continues, you realize that maintaining professionalism might be the hardest part of all.

You keep your focus steady, guiding the measuring tape along the length of Chris’s flaccid state. Your gloved fingers work efficiently, noting the exact numbers as you move on to measure his girth, wrapping the tape around the thickest part before finally noting the width calculation.

Chris watches you work, amusement flickering in his eyes. “How do you measure width, exactly?”

You don’t hesitate as you jot down the numbers. “You divide the girth by 3.14.”

Chris lets out a short laugh. “Huh. I used to think I wouldn’t need math in real life.”

You smirk, a little too focused on your notes when you reply, “Well, here’s a practical use of phi for you.”

His chuckle is warm, and you don’t notice how his eyes linger on you as you make quick calculations in your notebook.

Once you’re done, you lift your head, meeting his gaze. “Alright, now I need to measure—” You stop mid-sentence as realization sets in. His fully erect size.

The complications of that request hit you all at once. Chris raises an eyebrow, clearly catching your hesitation. And for the first time, you’re at a complete loss for words.

You clear your throat, willing yourself to sound casual. “I need to take your measurements when you’re fully erect.”

Chris tilts his head slightly, studying you with quiet amusement. “And do you have any idea how to get me there?”

You keep your expression neutral. “You can look at pornographic images or watch an adult film. That should help.”

At that, Chris grins, a small chuckle escaping him. He shakes his head, clearly entertained by your clinical suggestion. “That’s one way,” he muses. “But I have a better idea.”

You don’t like the way his eyes darken ever so slightly, the playful glint in them laced with something else.

You try to stay calm, but your fingers tighten around your measuring tape. “And… what’s that?”

He stalls, watching you carefully before answering. “You can help me with it.”

...

Full fic will be released this Friday, March 7 or you can read it early on my Patreon page:

[archduchessgortash]

I don't believe that anyone, even fictional characters, can be born evil. It's a trope a lot of fantasy media uses in order to justify the black & white thinking with which they've laced a narrative. Larian doesn't really do that, so I doubt that Gortash was even conceptualized as 'born evil.'

Evil isn't born. It's made. And it doesn't even require other evil for its genesis to occur. Negligence alone can do it.

So many thoughts that we need a cut...

Gortash's mother talks about him like she is herself an abuser, and his father isn't even allowed a voice anymore, which probably means that he was worse than her. Low empathy in a child occurs very often when their caregivers are not consistently and reliably responsive to their physical and emotional needs from a young age. Empathy is developed in a child via the empathy with which their caregiver treats them. It is by those same methods that it can be erased. Lack of responsiveness, delayed responsiveness, and inconsistency in caregivers meeting a child's needs are highly prominent in the histories of criminals, particularly in the violent kind that lack empathy. Sally calling Gortash 'needy' and 'hateful' says SO much more about her than him.

It is possible to escape the cycle, even if it's one into which a child was born. However, it is not possible in a vacuum that follows these early events or if this treatment continues in a life without reprieve or any opportunity to heal. I think the closest thing Gortash experienced to a reprieve was Durge.

Gortash was sold to Raphael and physically abused and terrorized by Nubaldin. Who knows what Raphael did to him? And neither Raphael nor Gortash say anything about the other. Being at his mercy must have been truly terrifying for a child, based on the logs of Raphael's attempts to break Hope. Somehow, Gortash escaped after an unspecified amount of time there. I tend to err on the side of him being there for more years than Karlach, mainly because of one of his lines when you play as Origin Karlach. He knows exactly what he did to her, yet when she comments on what she's 'suffered,' he sort of rages out on her and says she doesn't know the meaning of the word. We know he thinks he didn't do anything to 'harm her,' but why does he think that? Is it only because the infernal engine made her more powerful? Or could it be because she was an adult (20 yrs old), doing essentially the same job for Zariel as she did for him, a job that (when working for Gortash) she said that she liked and was good at? She even shares memories of being in the Hells that aren't awful. Avernus was a very bad place to be in, but Karlach's place there was one of privilege, even in her servitude. Mizora envied her. Gortash lived in a dungeon, getting his face beat in by a crabby gnome. This disparity might be why he doesn't seem to see what he did to Karlach as even remotely similar to his own experience. Of course, nothing excuses his behavior, but there's a whole lot of info in the game that does explain it.

The only exception I see to the neverending shitshow of power grabs and backstabbing that was his life may have occurred with Durge. No one will ever convince me Gortash isn't different when interacting with Durge. The line delivery and mo-cap for Durge-specific content hits differently. No matter how Durge viewed their relationship, Gortash clearly developed an attachment to them, and what feels like genuine affection. The dynamic of that relationship might be the only reason he's not cruel and sadistic unless there's a purpose to the act. Even his parents are building up his own false legend of himself in their torment. His treatment of the Gondians is his only other instance of truly excessive cruelty, and it tracks, because so much about Gortash screams 'I wanted to be a Gondian when I grew up but they wouldn't let me, or they kicked me out.' Yet, they still serve a purpose. This aspect of his personality is what I interpret as the true reason the 'slithering wet malice' letter was removed. Not that he's incapable of thinking or even saying what's in that letter, just that he'd never write it down, especially not with the horrific typos and formatting it had. That man has precise writing.

One of the the things I find most interesting about Gortash is that HIS plan to rule the world uses a means of control that won't make the people fear their false goddess or him as a Chosen of the Absolute, it makes them love her, and by proxy, him. He uses fear as a tool to convince the patriars that they need him enough to give him the power that he requires in order to build the Steel Watch, and in turn, make the people love him by tadpoling as many as possible. He wants to be seen as the beloved hero that saves Baldur's Gate. Bane is the god of hatred, fear and tyranny, yet in his chosen's plan for world domination, there is this seething, underlying rebellion against two of the three main focuses of his portfolio. It amuses me, and as a bonus, it supports my theory that Gortash is redeemable.

Yes, Flymms, your hateful evil seed actually did start out innocent. Sally and Dravo set him on this path, and even after everything, all his machinations have had one final goal in mind: to be loved. Something their empty, atrophic hearts couldn't do for him. No wonder he studied brains instead.

🫵 GORTASH ENJOYERS‼️‼️‼️

me and my most of my mutuals seem to agree that he was born evil, but we know it’s not the popular interpretation. either way it’s something we discuss a lot and it’s become a bit of an echo chamber, so, tell me your thoughts in tags!! i’d love to hear them!