#hope i pleased u with this anon

[jhuzen]

could u write kaveh diluc or kaeya with an obsessive m reader? like yandere type (or just obsessive whatever u want) I love the way u write them ur my fav blog

following elysium [m.reader]

maaaaan i haven’t written anything yandere in a good while now. but i can’t say i don’t miss it. this takes me back to my obsession with yandere character arc (*coughs in yan asogi that i still obsess over in my drafts*) so this request will let me know if i’ve lost my touch. also, why pick between three when you can have all lolololll

𖦹 dark themes, yandere male reader (ranging from manipulative, to overprotective, to soft), manipulation everywhere (like a lot, i swear i’m not good at it irl or am i jkjk), obsessive themes, some mentions and allusions of death, some isolation, scare tactics, love bombing

𐂂 obsession is a lethal poison, and yet you’ve survived a gallon of doses.

Kaveh

Your sweet naïve little Kaveh was quite the adorable one, always so considerate, so willing to please and so eager to do what he can in order to satisfy you, a mere admiring client of his. A man that he knew that personally sought him out to the ends of Sumeru just to meet him and commission him. Just because for some reason, you had heard of him from the outskirts of this vast nation.

Oh truly what an honor it is.

If only he knew it took one smile from him and a small greeting from exactly just a year ago when he officially met you, that sent you spiraling into a mad obsession that longed to pursue him; if only he insisted to look inside the office you’ve kept him off of, he would have seen the altar that could rival any other archons out there; if only he had a lick of awareness in him, he would’ve seen that your devilishly charming smiles were indeed the work of something far more sinister.

Alas, he was your sweet little architect, unaware of your leering stares, gazes so predatory it could leave any prey scampering off, ready to pounce at him and just break him.

But you are a man of class, you knew your way around people’s hearts, and Kaveh’s weakness was the positive feedback he gets from his clients. He’s helping out of the goodness of his heart, after all, mora is not so much of an issue (to the point of him even incurring a debt), and he was even just as generous with you, refusing the pounds of mora that you were willing to lay at his feet (though you send him away with heaps still).

And as your gaze flitted from the blueprints of your master’s bedroom renovation to the man currently in charge of it, a small smile wormed its way to your face. Truly your esteemed genius architect is a lovely one, how lucky were you that you met him on that particular day.

“Hm… I don’t think with the way we’ve recently renovated your hallways, your bedroom pans out at all,” his bottom lip stuck out into an adorable pout, and it took every cell in your body to control the maddening urge to kiss them, to bite them until you even get a taste of him.

“Is that so?” You casually leaned over, drawing yourself nearer than normal. And heaven swallowed you whole when you got a whiff of that familiar honey scented shampoo that Kaveh often used (you’ve made a note of buying more in stock once you’ve enacted the final steps in your little plan).

However, even that lovely scent wasn’t enough to keep your attention away from the way Kaveh stiffened, from the way his grip around the parchment of your blueprint significantly tightened to the point of ripping it apart, from the way his breath hitched.

“I— A-Ah! Um! Yes—!”

From the way his voice cracked — those red eyes peered up at you — to the way those gazes of his became increasingly fonder and more frenzied, much like yours, but less subtle. Kaveh was always bad at hiding how he truly feels, and it made it easier for you to trap him in your little cage, to snip away his wings until he’s fully tied down to you.

You tilted your head, cocking an eyebrow as you put him in his place, rendering him almost speechless when he briskly turned back to the blueprint, wide-eyed and flustered. How adorable.

“Well, I trust that you know how our transactions are, my dear,” your tone was suave and smooth, practiced to perfection, and the same way with your movements that were calculated for precision, ensnaring your poor unsuspecting Kaveh. You took a lock of his hair in your hand, twirling it around as you attempted to find his averted gaze. “Go all out. Mora is not an issue.”

Kaveh’s head stuttered as he nodded, his trembling hands barely able to release the poor blueprint from his vice grip. He somehow didn’t know why, but there were recent changes about you in the few and far between times that he sees you for your personal consultation. Kaveh thought it sweet really, that you would go out of your way to contact a grand and comfortable enough transportation to take him to your home instead of making him walk a hundred miles just to do so (despite his initial insistence to do it instead).

You were the first client that has been so generous with praises and mora when it comes to your payment, and while the architect can afford to be modest about accepting your financial payment, even he couldn’t hide the metaphorical wagging of his tail should you even grace him one compliment for his efforts. Don’t get him wrong though, he knows he’s good, how else could he have graduated with honors if not?

Nevertheless, your approval was something Kaveh continuously sought, until every letter of commission you sent him suddenly had him mistaking it for a letter of something more… intimate, something that held a rather romantic connotation.

He took your kindness for something more, unknowing of your ulterior motives, blissfully unaware about the obsession that gets you high, and absolutely clueless about the fact that ten of your men — the ones that greeted him so jovially as they gave him a ride to your grand home — had their eyes on his every move on the days he would be off back home, acting as your eyes, all perfectly ready to execute someone should they harm a hair on his head.

Thoughts of you became even more intrusive the more he met with you, Kaveh found you addicting, and he even felt ashamed of the fact that he did so. You’re his client! He shouldn’t be so emotionally involved in the first place. He was there to do his job that you commissioned him for.

But a moment of clarity soon encompassed him when he realized that he has previous engagements to this. That he shouldn’t be staying the night at your home once more to work on renovating your bedroom.

“Ah… I just remembered…” Kaveh’s frown was unmistakable, and suddenly the feeling of eagerness of him meeting up with his friends at the usual tavern was replaced with blatant hesitance at the thought of leaving you. But he quickly shook it off, turning back to you, “Hey… I hope you don’t mind if I can postpone our work for now…”

Where did you get that wine?

Your gaze lifted from the swirling burgundy in your glass, “Oh? How come? Need some inspiration?”

“I just remembered I promised to meet with my friends tonight. It’s only once a month.”

Your lips almost turned down into a disdainful scowl but opted for a small, reserved disappointed frown, “Ah. I see. How disappointing that is,” you murmured, but it was enough for Kaveh to hear. Deceitfully disheartened, like practiced and the way Kaveh’s eyebrows furrowed in concern was enough of a reaction.

“It wouldn’t be for too long though! I’ll be back tomorrow!” The hesitation crept up on him and it showed in the tone of his voice. Desperation soon followed when his body turned to face yours, a sign of vulnerability and submission in this situation. “It’s not… it’s not as if I’m leaving or anything.”

You heaved a sigh, “But that would be too much on you, making you come all the way back and even after spending some time with your friends too.” You can only thank the lucky stars that you were a son of a theatre actor from Fontaine, it sure came in handy.

“No, I can definitely make it! You’re my best client, I can’t afford to—”

Kaveh’s frantic saving was quickly interrupted when you decided to go in for the kill, “Like I said, I don’t wish to run you ragged… and my family will come and visit soon.” You snapped your fingers, looking at Kaveh with feigned curiosity, “Ah, yes. Might you know any other capable architects? Surely I can’t expect the same work like yours, but someone who would not disappoint would be enough.”

His red eyes immediately went wide, completely baffled at your suggestion. You were willing to replace him? Just like that?

“I…” Kaveh looked down, suddenly meek. “I don’t know anyone who can do that much,” he muttered despite knowing otherwise. He was kind to his fellow architects, but surely he can afford to be selfish about you just this once?

He failed to see the way your eyes shone with satisfaction, contrasting you disheartened tone, “Hm… pity that is…”

Well. Missing one night wouldn’t hurt, right?

Kaveh looked back up at you, “I… I suppose I can afford to just show up next time. We do these hangouts all the time anyway,” his words completely contrasted his claim of scarce meets earlier, but it was more than enough for you to know how quickly he gave in. “Ah, whatever. I’m sure those guys can handle themselves.”

“Are you certain?” You asked, tilting his head up with a hand on his chin, almost getting lost into those ruby reds of his. “I’d hate for you to miss such an important engagement.”

And before he knew it, he willingly embraced the shadows, engulfing every part of him, leaving none untouched. It swallowed him whole, like a limitless void, with no one left to even save him, forgetting anyone else but you and only you.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind staying with you.”

You tapped the rim of your glass on his lip, pouring that familiar wine in the small gap of his lips that you’ve graced him on the many nights he would stay to work on your home renovations. You watched with pure delight as Kaveh’s eyes grew hazy and unfocused — left with nothing but with the manipulated admiration for you.

“Good. Let’s enjoy the night, shall we?”

𐂂

Kaeya

The infamous Cavalry Captain has no one to blame but himself, really. Even as your superior, he knew no bounds when it comes to reserving himself. He always flaunted himself at you, like a fashionable bird that that preened its wings on the daily just to show off. He was flashy, mouthy, and unbearably attractive.

Being placed under him was hell for all the different reasons. You were constantly in his presence — and you had to shoulder the patience of the kindest archon in existence to resist anything remotely impulsive. You had to be near him in proximity, always around him, accompanying him from the most mundane errands to the most hectic missions.

And while Captain Kaeya was he shining beacon between you and him, you were the dark shadow that walked behind him. It wasn’t your fault, he asked you so himself.

“This guy’s going to shadow me, hope you have no objections to that, Acting Grandmaster,” was what you heard on that one fateful day, before finding your pristine uniform getting remotely crinkled as he dragged you away without breaking a sweat.

Since that day, no person in Monstadt can claim that they’ve seen Kaeya without you, or you without him. It was almost like fate, except it was a fate that forged a bond from the depths of abyss — a bond that embodied nothing but a push and pull relationship, the distance and proximity, the obsession and submission.

You had to watch him put himself out there, when you can just as easily drag that information from someone if you asked with a blade on their throat; that usually gets people talking. But he dismissed you easily, and let you stew in the cesspool of madness that his actions slowly created.

And you were none the wiser, you cleaned up the messes he made, you made sure to silence the people once they came into their senses that they’ve been bested by yet again the sniveling calvary captain of the order.

All of his commands, you obeyed without complaint.

And oddly enough, it brought you a sense of comfort. That he trusts you this much, that he’s willing to let you go rampant in exchange for his safety — one that you never failed on doing. All of it, to keep him safe.

Until recently, you found it inconvenient to let him off without a leash. Seeing him come home from an excursion with scratches that decorated his poor body — adding further into those battle scars that you’ve once had the displeasure of seeing when he asked you to aid him into wrapping himself with a handful of bandages — and it wasn’t the greatest sight. You fussed over him like a mother hen, never once letting him out of your sight.

You were rewarded with a grateful side-hug from the captain, and it was enough to fuel your mission in protecting him.

“Ah! Captain! Should I accompany you today?” You asked as you approached him with a blinding grin — in fact so blinding, he had to squint his one good eye. For a shadow, you sure are bright. Perhaps Kaeya was mistaken when he said you were going to be his behind-the-scenes guy.

Kaeya found you adorable, in all honesty. You had an exuberant energy within you that went unparalleled, and on days that he personally needed someone to pick him up when everything weighed down on him, it seemed like you almost had a sixth sense for it and was almost always by his side. Not that he minded — he was grateful above all else. And on days when the drunkard bard or Rosaria weren’t around to keep him company, he trusts that you have some reserved liquor in your home so he can drink away his problems and still be fine in his sleep.

If only he knew how hard you stared at him, obsessively looking him over while you slowly drowned in your fantasies — one of which him finally being chained to you, devoted and stuck waiting at home while you defend his honor without him having to harm himself in the process.

“There you are, missed me already?” He asked with a cheeky grin.

You did. You couldn’t sleep a wink, knowing that you weren’t around to protect him.

You scratched your head and laughed, “Aw, don’t be so mean captain. I only care about your wellbeing!”

“Hm~? How sweet… sure wouldn’t hurt to have you around every now and then.”

You have been. You prowled around his remote home, kicking stones and staring longingly in the window, ready to pounce at anyone who seemed vaguely threatening.

Kaeya thought how endearing you might be if you were to be his, but with the mission he carries on his back, he wonders if it’s even worth it having you, only to betray you in the end. He wonders if you can betray your own homeland for him.

You would, without question. You will lay a hundred corpses of the Order’s knights at his feet should he ask.

“Don’t tease me so much, captain,” your pout was enough to lift his spirits from that asinine thought. “Now, where are you going? I’ll go prepare my things.”

“Just heading up to Dragonspine to meet with the chief investigator. It shouldn’t be too hard, so you can just stay here and enjoy a bit of downtime, yeah? Go bother my brother if you want, you have my full permission.”

You frowned and Kaeya suddenly felt a chill crawl through his spine. You never did expressed such a disappointment even on the most difficult situations, and it suddenly feels like he made a mistake in refusing you. Perhaps it was because you towered over him so easily, perhaps it was because you could catch him without even trying that Kaeya suddenly felt so small in comparison to you.

The tension lasted for a good minute, silence engulfed the both of you and Kaeya has never felt so uncomfortable in his own skin. Should he have taken his answer back? But really, there was no need for you to escort him in the first place.

You then broke the silence with a quiet, dispirited sigh.

“Okay, but please keep safe, alright?” You patted the captain’s cheeks, sending him a small smile before heading off.

Kaeya didn’t like the way the guilt gnawed in his chest.

And while you also didn’t like an act of betrayal, you found it necessary at times — times when lessons had to be taught. The Acting Grandmaster said so herself, that experience is the best teacher.

Kaeya trudged through the coldness of Dragonspine, completely hating the fact that he had no company now. Maybe he should’ve just agreed to your proposition, and you looked so sad too! Like a kicked puppy that was told to sleep outside in the cold night. He couldn’t bear the thought of you looking so sad — you were his partner, of course you should’ve come!

Alas, the feelings of being attached to someone burdened him so, and while he sought your brightest and warmest of smiles, he couldn’t muster the courage to see it fall on the day that he fulfills what he knows would be his inevitable fate in the long run.

However all his rumination came into a halt the moment he heard a roar that thundered quite literally just beside him.

Kaeya had little time to think the moment the beast emerged from the towering trees of the mountains, his head blanking as he watched it lunge towards him with great speed. His hand that went up to the hilt of his sword suddenly froze the very moment he realized he was a little too late.

Closing his eye shut, he braced for the impact until suddenly, the beast roared and he could hear the familiar sickening sound of a blade piercing through the flesh.

Mere seconds were all it took for him to regain his breathing, his ears ringing as the adrenaline pumped through his veins. He now wonders if he really should’ve taken you up on your offer on escorting him in the first place, sure would’ve eased the guilt he felt inside and maybe he wouldn’t have to space out in the middle of his trail.

“Captain! Are you okay?!”

His eye flew open, seeing your angelic face that held nothing but pure concern for him. He glanced back at the slain beast and back to you, pupils dilated — you were here. Here. And you protected him.

He stayed still, watching in bated breath as you dropped your bloodied greatsword that stained the thick coat of snow. You smiled a little, brushing away a few strands of hair from his face, “There’s my captain. Are you alright? Did it hurt you?”

“Y…You’re here…?”

You blinked before laughing, bashful and what Kaeya can consider as remotely adorable in any other day, “Ah… yeah. I know you said I can’t come… but I can’t help it! What if you were in trouble and I wasn’t there to protect you? So I came and good thing I did!”

Kaeya’s lips trembled, before lunging in to hug you tight, almost sending you tumbling into the snow. You quickly returned the gesture, wrapping your arms around him tight. You patted his back, rubbing circles to soothe your poor little captain.

“There, there. From now on, let’s stick together, okay?”

The captain nodded into your shoulder, looking up to look at the unmoving beast that laid in the snow.

He does wonder though… since when were wild beasts in this mountain leashed?

𐂂

Diluc

To the citizens of Mondstadt, their uncrowned king remains as cold and as untouchable as he can be. He rarely interacted with anyone, and was almost always either cooped up in his manor, or out in other nations to further propagate his empirical business in the wine industry. He was always on the move, and people admired him for that.

And you were willing to bet your entire life that their admiration would grow tenfold when they realized that Diluc was the unsung Darknight Hero that terrorized every monsters that hoped to wreak havoc in the lives of the citizens.

Alas, the situation remains as it were, with him completely aloof to the people, leaving either a terrifying impression, or one that could leave someone seething at his unwelcoming tendencies.

But you would be remiss to blindly agree to that. In fact, you vehemently denied those claims as you remained by his side, like a loyal watchdog for him to command as he so pleases.

He was your savior first before your now superior. Diluc was your beacon of hope on the very day he rescued you from the cold rain, ostracized from your nation that you once loved and now left with a gaping void on your chest. You could still remember the feeling of that cold rain while you trudged within the Dawn Winery’s vicinity, when suddenly the rain stopped pelting harshly on you as a pair of shoes entered your field of vision.

You could still remember his words echo within your ears.

“You’re going to get sick. Come inside and let the rain pass at least.”

The rest was history after that, and now you sat as the elusive and capable butler of the famed prolific young man of the Ragnvindr clan. Though in fairness, you weren’t particularly elusive, and Adelinde can attest to that.

She has never seen someone handle their Master Diluc so delicately. She could sing her praises to you endlessly, with your attentive nature, and you willingness to serve Diluc without even an ounce of hesitation. You’ve certainly earned your keep in their eyes, and even the pyro vision wielder can see your dedication towards him.

There was always something with the way you carried yourself the moment you started working under the Ragnvindr house, you first started off as a mere novice in caring for the house, until you rapidly climbed up the ranks as Diluc’s personal attendant, aiding him in his home as well as his monthly international trips to ensure his safety.

Really, it wasn’t much to be praised for. You were only doing your job, and it’s a job that you found yourself intensely passionate for. To be with Diluc was an honor, to serve the man that saved you from your untimely demise, returning his actions with so much more than what was on offer.

Your service was something that toed between your gratefulness and a borderline obsession.

You gave what you can and Diluc was nothing but completely enamored with you, from your lofty smiles that felt like heaven, to your assisting hands that traced against his shoulders on mornings where you helped him get dressed for the day. All of it was slowly drawing him in. You were perfect, too perfect in fact, and it haunted poor Diluc that knew nothing but pain and betrayal.

“Master Diluc, I believe there is merit to getting some sleep after working so hard,” your smile was light and airy, and it was already a breath of fresh air from the contrasting suffocating environment that was filled to the brim with mindless drunks.

Diluc made a quiet noise of agreement (his mouth barely had the strength to move after talking to so many patrons of his), yet his feet begged to differ as it led him up to his office without skipping a beat.

You folded his coat in your arms and trailed after him, “So then why am I seeing you opening the door to what I believe is not your bedroom door?” You inquire with a croon, lovingly watching the way his hand hesitated to find the doorknob. It was a sign that he heeded your little advice and your little heart that was filled to the brim with love for your master couldn’t help but swell with pride and increase in rate, almost spilling over.

“I have… some reports to attend to. If I can finish it tonight, it would be less burden on me tomorrow,” Diluc reasoned, but it was clear that he was slowly caving into your whims, just the way you like it.

He was inexplicably weak towards you for some reason — something not a lot of people could achieve despite working for him or with him for a good while.

“Would it be wise to tend to them while completely exhausted?”

Once again, you’ve put him in a difficult place. You’re a cunning man, unfortunately for him, able to wriggle in some moments of logic into his brain that prioritized his duties over his own wellbeing. And for some reason, concerning as it is, his brain feels intoxicated as it sways to your will, completely subservient and willing to abide despite the fact that you were his servant and he was the commanding authority in your relationship.

Diluc feels it sometimes — the unsettling feeling of being squeezed tight, like a python coiling around his body as it suffocated him with love and care. His movements are restricted and he was unable to break free from that tightening grasp.

It was almost hard to breathe, but at the same time there was sick sense of comfort that was lodged into the back of his mind. He liked it. It was the affection that he was deprived of, leaving him writhing in the loneliness that he was forced to soldier through. And when you came to him on that one night, you gave him what he needed but not asked for.

You made him feel like he’s worth something, and it made him want to vie for a life worth something as well. It was a feeling that he could get high off of, and you were willing donor to whatever it was that he lacked.

And before he knew it, he sat at his tub comfortably, completely bare and vulnerable while you continued to wash his hair with such gentle hands. Never has he known a touch so kind like yours and he was ready to get lost within it.

“Feeling better?” Your voice coos at his ear, sickeningly sweet and yet he submits himself into it with reckless abandon. Your hands moved from his hair, leaving the most addicting touches as you traced your fingertips from the nape of his neck right to his shoulders that were filled with tension.

“Much,” Diluc muttered, head turning up as his half-lidded eyes met yours, still filled with that irresistible fondness that he grew to be addictive of. “Thank you, [Name].”

You smiled, succinct yet saccharine while your hands worked away the kinks and knots away from your master’s incredibly tensed muscles.

For him, you would give your all, even if it meant to face death. You would throw away anything else because a world without your endearing master is a world not worth living for. You will serve him until the world falls to your feet, and if given the chance, you will do what you can to protect him even beyond your useless life that long passed.

He was your savior and now you were a devout believer — one that worships his master with little to no hesitation. You can beat any other nun or the beloved deacon of that measly church with how much love and devotion you were willing to show him. Hell, even if you can’t, if it’s what Diluc wants, you would do well with dying as you try and make the impossible completely possible just for him.

Your love through subservience was quick to snuff out the wings your master once embodied to soar freely. He slowly caved into you, in need and constantly hungry for more, unaware of his growing dependence on your presence.

“It’s no problem, my lord. I will serve and tail you until the ends of this world. And even in my death, I am yours to command and to have.”

Diluc mirrored your smile, albeit much more tired than your sweet one.

He was the willing prey and you were the loving predator.

The unmistakably perfect match.

[harbingersglory]

Hello, could I have transfem Signora x fem!reader smut? Any scenario is fine, just need dom Signora railing me 😩

{☆} characters la signora {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader, dom la signora, transfem la signora {☆} warnings 18+ content, restraints, temperature play, face fucking, degradation, pet play

There's a moment of silence that lingers for far too long, the cold nipping at your exposed skin until you feel shivers wrack your body. You squirm instinctively, seeking out the fading warmth of the thick furs laid out beneath you, yet finding nothing but the cold that chills you to your bones. You can't even see, your eyes covered by black fabric, silk tying your arms together behind your back.

It's almost torturous waiting like this. Your knees sink further into the fur as you lean your weight forward slightly, exhaling a shaky breath. You begin to wonder if Signora left you there– maybe you'd annoyed her earlier and she was punishing you. You hoped not. She wasn't known for being lenient when it came to punishments.

But the brush of her fingers along your jawline squashed that fear, your breath hitching as her thumb glided over your throat, the heat of her skin making you shudder. The contrast of the cold room, of your freezing body, to the unnatural heat that simmers beneath her skin is immense– your knees would have definitely buckled if you hadn't been kneeling already.

"Did you think I'd left you here all alone? You're shaking like a dog." The soft, biting lilt was nothing more than a murmur, but for you it was impossible not to hear the pleased tone beneath the roughness of her voice. Your heart leaps into your throat when her fingers trace back up along your jawline, lifting your head and tilting it back just enough to be uncomfortable.

You open your mouth to speak, but your words are silenced by her thumb slipping past your lips instead– you don't fight back, even though the sudden intrusion catches you off guard enough you almost bite her finger instead. You almost consider doing it anyway, but she's so rarely in a good mood it feels rude to spoil it.

"Pets don't speak until they're told," She chides, pressing down on your tongue slightly and laughing at the way you almost choke in surprise. "And I don't remember giving you permission."

You can only manage a garbled whine in response, your face burning in embarrassment– but it's quickly silenced by the click of her tongue and the creak of the old chair you know sits by the fireplace, her thumb sliding out between your lips to drag you closer. Close enough to feel the rush of heat across your skin as your cheek is pressed against her thigh, her hands resting on the back of your head. You can't see it, but you sure can imagine the smug smile that must be tugging at her lips right about now.

"Let's see about fixing your little disobedient streak, darling." She murmurs, digging her nails into your scalp and tugging you even closer, the furs beneath you doing little to prevent the ache in your knees from kneeling. But you don't complain– you know what she wants, and you want it too. "Open."

Like the dog she seems so fond of treating you as, you listen– you're not as surprised this time when her fingers fill your mouth, forcing it open even further until you can feel the saliva collecting and dribbling down your chin. She doesn't seem to mind, even laughing at how pitiful you probably look, drooling all over her fingers.

But Signora is a hard woman to satisfy, and this will hardly do anything other then work her up enough to really break you in. You can just barely hear the rustle of fabric over your heartbeat, gloved hands tugging you closer and forcing you to press right up against the edge of the chair. It's almost uncomfortable, the way the chair presses against your chest, but she always has you teetering on that fine edge.

"Perhaps you can be trained after all." Signora's voice is like a balm, the heat of her body driving away the cold and urging you impossibly closer, until you feel her hand guide you down just as her fingers slip out of your mouth again– right up until you feel her cock against your cheek. "Show me that you can be obedient, mutt, and maybe I'll let you sit on my lap."

You know she's just dangling a treat just out of reach, but you can't help but reach for it anyway.

Your tongue drags across the underside of her cock, so slow you can hear the hiss that rattles in her chest halfway between pleasure and impatience. You take your time anyway, lingering until you reach the tip and press a kiss against it. You almost wish you could see her face, but she's never been fond of expressing anything outwardly when you can see it– just the idea of her brows furrowed, of her face flush and her lip caught between her teeth..it's enough.

It's not hard to imagine it anyway when the heat grows hotter, nearly turning the room into an oven before she catches herself. You aren't stupid enough to mention it, but your smile must be enough, because a low growl makes you shiver– so you drag your tongue from the base to the tip again, revel in the way it throbs beneath your tongue. For a moment you almost have something like control, your saliva dripping down her aching cock as you lap at it like a mutt.

But you're both growing impatient– the sharp click of her nails against the chairs arms makes you shudder, urging you to lift yourself up just enough to wrap your lips around the head with a muffled groan. You consider dragging it out just a moment longer, just to see if you can get her to whine, but she knows you better then you do– before you can even blink, her hand shoves you down. You, predictably, gag. Your throat burns from the stretch, but it's not unpleasant, eased by the pleasured hiss that tumbles from her lips. Signora at least has the mercy to let you get used to it for a moment before she drags you back up, the emptiness in your throat making you whine before she's shoving her cock back down your throat. Your eyes sting with unshed tears, your own sounds of pleasure muffled and garbled as she does it again– and again.

"Finally quiet, mutt?" She laughs, but it's strained– her voice quivers slightly as she fucks your throat like your nothing but a toy to her, drool dribbling down your chin and tears staining the blindfold. "If I knew it was this easy to shut you up, I'd have done it a long time ago."

You so badly want to do something, but with your hands tied behind your back and her fucking your face so rough, so fast, you can barely even think..there's not much you can do but let her, your cunt clenching around nothing. You really hope she wasn't lying about that reward, for once. You're practically dripping on her floor while she uses you, just barely able to squeeze your thighs together for a fraction of friction.

It only serves to make you more desperate, though.

"Fuck– or maybe you're too stupid to know better. You'd just let any pretty woman with a cock use you," Her breathing was getting heavier, more strained, but her grip on your hair didn't relent. Neither did the harsh thrust of her hips, her cock constantly hammering into your throat until you felt dizzy. "You're lucky I'm even willing to train a mutt like you."

Your mind starts to feel fuzzy, the words blending together until she digs her nails into your scalp and forces you down again– and keeps you there. You nearly gag again when you feel her shudder, her cock throbbing in your mouth as her cum spills down your throat, your hands straining against the silk binding them together. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, nostrils flaring and your body tensing– you don't even realize you'd briefly lost consciousness until your find yourself on her lap, rather then on your knees, her hands brushing the strands of hair stuck to your face with sweat out of your eyes.

It's the most gentle she's been all night– and likely as gently as she will be tonight. You lean into her touch anyway, groaning softly and shuddering at the taste of her on your tongue mixed with her cock throbbing against your thigh.

"I'm not done yet, darling. Did you think I'd let you get away with a little light training?" She laughs, cupping your jaw and pressing a kiss that's far too gentle to your cheek, the warmth of her body almost suffocating– but you welcome it, like you always do.

So you nod, smiling drowsily and spreading your legs like a good pet should.

[inkykeiji]

DAZAI AKU AND READER DYNAMIC AGAIN 😧 not a request but i’m wondering how dazai would punish aku and if reader would be involved like forcing aku to watch as he touches them or only allowing aku to eat the come from readers 🐱 after he nuts in it. 🥱

anonnnn thank u so much for this i have SO much to say oh my gosh

tw: mentions of caning + physical assault, daddy kink, overstimulation, noncon, cuckholding kinda???, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, toxic relationships, cum eating, honestly Daddy dazai is just brutal. 

words: 1.1k

SO! the punishment that i had in mind at the end of that piece specifically was actually purely physical—it was caning! really fucking brutal caning that borders on physical assault. i’m not gonna talk about it much tho because HEHE between u and i, i am currently writing a lil piece that deals with like,,, the aftermath??? and the punishment itself is kinda gotten into in that oneshot so c: 

BUT I LOVE BOTH OF THESE IDEAS SOOOOO MUCH and i could totally see Daddy dazai definitely using either of these as punishment so let’s get into that because i have many Thoughts!!! 

okay first of all forcing akutagawa to eat reader out only after dazai has cum in her/you is so sick and sadistic i love it SO much oh my goddd especially since you know he’d be more than eager to do it, to please Daddy, to receive that precious praise dazai is so goddamn stingy with giving him. so he’d be so fucking enthusiastic as he sucks and slurps Daddy’s thick cream from your cunt, making a real mess of his face, cheeks and chin glistening oh-so-prettily with your and Daddy’s combined essence, tongue unfurling from his mouth to clumsily lick at his own stained skin, anywhere and everywhere he can possibly reach, slick muscle flexing as he stretches it as far as he can, desperate not to waste a single drop. 

and he’s holding your thighs open with such force that his fingertips are sinking into your flesh, nails carving deep crescents in their place, bruises blossoming beneath his grip, sowed deep in the tissues. your muscles ache from how unbelievably wide he’s stretched them, but he won’t let you close them, won’t even allow you a moment of rest at all, a man on a mission—your comfort doesn’t fucking matter, not when Daddy has a demand that needs to be fulfilled.

he eats you out until you’re fucking spotless, not a single ounce of Daddy’s cum anywhere, not even splattered on your inner thighs, because akutagawa, good boy that he is, sopped that up with his tongue, too. he’s almost obsessive with it, eating you until you cum again, until he’s sure your juices have flushed every last bit of Daddy from your body and into akutagawa’s tummy, safe and sound and where it should be. he’ll get in trouble for that, too, of course—you were never supposed to cum, he was never supposed to make that happen, and it’ll be his fault for allowing it, for procuring it, no matter how he tries to spin it. he knows better to argue with Daddy once Daddy’s made up his mind, but he just can’t seem to help it when it comes to situations involving you, whiny complaints spilling from his lips before his brain can even sift through them, voice stringy and thin as he cries about how it isn’t fair! and she should’ve stopped it herself! and it isn’t his fault she can’t control herself! 

at the end of it all, though, he’s proud of himself irregardless, proud of the stellar job he did eating you clean. and even though he scolds him callously, Daddy’s proud of him, too <3

ON THE OTHER HAND, i also really love the idea of Daddy dazai fucking reader over and over and over again and not only making akutagawa watch but also instructing akutagawa to not touch himself at all, in any way (and yes, this includes not shifting and twitching his hips up, rolling them into the air in tiny, pathetic little motions so the head of his cock grinds against the tight denim of his jeans). i love it, because it’s a double whammy in so many ways: in addition to the obvious, he also has to watch as his Daddy fucks the favourite, he has to watch as his Daddy plays with his toy, feeling left out and neglected and lonely. he has to watch as Daddy pushes his toy well past the point of pleasure and into a whole ton of pain, easily reminding akutagawa in that infuriatingly charming, slightly breathless voice that your pain is his fault (v touya-nii of him LMAO).

at first, he acts as if he doesn’t care, and he tells Daddy so, the words spit from his lips with such derision it sours his face, features screwed up tightly. it doesn’t matter to him, he says. he doesn’t give a fuck if she’s in pain, he swears. 

except by the third orgasm you’re sobbing out his name, dainty fingers grappling for him in cute little claws that scratch at the mattress in their haste and leave little divots in their wake, sheets ripping audibly, and ryuu! ryuu, ryuu, it hurts, make Daddy stop! 

but this, this pure emotional torment, is a part of his punishment, too, he realizes. 

because then Daddy’s shushing you, gentle and sweet and all of the things he never is with akutagawa, large palms cushioning your sweaty cheeks as he murmurs to you, voice silk and syrup. 

you can do it for Daddy, can’t you, sweetheart? you can cum one more for me, right? you want to be good for me, don’t you? 

and that hurts, too. watching Daddy be so fucking nice to you, watching daddy dole out praise to you the way he doles out punishment to akutagawa. it isn’t until dazai’s sure he’s fully broken akutagawa in every conceivable way that he finally stops, takes the shivering, snivelling man into his arms and onto his lap, akutagawa’s chest shuddering beneath the force of the sobs he keeps trying so desperately to shove down, long lashes scraggly and weighted with fat tears.

you did good, baby, he’s whispering as slim fingers pop the button of akutagawa’s jeans, hand wiggling beneath the material to pull his cock free a moment later. Daddy’s good baby boy, so precious, so fucking pathetic, aren’t you?

yes, yes, yes, he’s sobbing into dazai’s neck as Daddy strokes his aching cock, hard and fast right at the top, thumb grinding little circles into the slit. his words are nothing more than tangles of spit oozing all over Daddy’s skin as they leak, uncontrollably so, from his lips, but that’s alright, Daddy doesn’t mind the mess today, humming out condescending coos into inky strands as he encourages akutagawa to cum all over Daddy’s fist.

and, oh, he’s so fucking hopeless for his Daddy, cumming after a mere three pulls of his cock, thick and sticky and so much, it’s so much for such a skinny boy, almost embarrassingly, disgustingly so, don’t you think ryuu-kun? 

of course. of course it is; he’s disgusting and deplorable and so fucking desperate, but he did it; he’s Daddy’s good boy, and that’s all that matters <3 

[catcze]

Hello Catte !

Do you think Wriothesley would date someone who is asexual ? (Someone who feels little to no sexual attraction or desire to have sex) I kinda have the feeling that he wouldn’t as an asexual myself 😭 What do you think ?

I hope you have a great day/evening and are feeling well ! (Don’t feel pressured to write this, if you don’t feel comfortable with it and if you do, I can wait for as long as you need, since I adore your writing and characterisation of Wriothesley ^^)

Hi sweetheart !! Honestly? The way I interpret Wrio's character is someone who is just so genuinely enamored with you and is eager to show that to you in whatever form you're comfortable with, you know? If you feel no desire to have sex, that's a-okay with him. Wriothesley is the kind of guy who makes sure that he knows your boundaries and how far you're willing to go, and will always always always respect those.

Elaborating on that a lil but in a relationship, Wrio would be so communicative, yk??!? Like, this guy is not embarrassed about the things that he wants, and right now all he wants is to make you the happiest person in the world, and make sure that you'd be comfortable in a relationship with him. He definitely definitely does some research beforehand and he comes to you with a list of questions that he wants to ask to make sure that he's messing up as little as possible. It's so cute, because he lists them on a little notepad and everything hjadkjn He has a couple of questions, such as where on the asexuality spectrum you fall on, any hard boundaries that you want to establish, what you are and aren't comfortable with, and all that. He gives you his whole attention without a single ounce of judgement, and for the things that he deems particularly important, he writes those down too. SIde note, but when he's flipping through his notepad, you swear that you see a page where he's listed down things that you like, such as your favorite drinks, food, and colors, and it kinda makes your heart melt a little ♡

And !!!!! he always makes sure that you know that he'll listen to you ?!?!? like wtf he's such an absolute green flag HAHHAHA If you ever feel uncomfortable with anythingggg ever he will always listen to you. If you're in a situation with him and things are veering in a direction that you don't really like, you literally just have to say the word and he'll do everything in his power to make the circumstances more comfortable for you !! Just;;; listen listen listen i just love him so much and i genuinely believe that if you get in a relationship with this man, he just wants to make you as happy as can be. If your relationship has little or even no sex, it doesn't impact him in any way— all he cares about is that you're safe and comfy with him, and as long as he's fulfilled that, then Wriothesley is as happy as can be.

[theloveinc]

I am in love with the idea of sugar daddy bakugou, he would have to physically drag me out of bed to class, I set like 5 alarms and then still not go

IT'S ABSURD, like you can't even lie to him abt it either because he has your whole schedule memorized!! You think you've finally gotten away with missing one morning class just to sleep in and cuddle, but NOPE, after one hit of the snooze button he's pulling off your blankets and flickering the lights on and off.

You're like, "can't i just be your housespouse, stay home and do chores???"

And he's frowning, "first you were beggin' me for tuition, now you don't even wanna go???" (i'd immediately get up to argue with him but that's another story)

He is so annoying lmfao. Has an argument for all of your complaints, and will try to slap your butt if you don't get up. And the worst part is that he really does want you to do well !!! and get a degree in case you need to support yourself ever. Good LUCK not feeling guilty and trying to get out of homework, too.....

(and LITERALLY ME THIS MORNING, my alarm rang for an hour and apparently i just did not give enough of a fuck to notice😭😭😭)

[dailybloopy]

[rosaaeles]

I really want to hear some of your odesta hcs if you have any 🙈

omg of course! here are some :)

i feel like i mentioned this in the ficnick, but i headcannon that annie waits up for finnick in his house in the victor’s village on the days when he’s coming back from the capitol. sometimes she does things to keep herself occupied in the meantime like baking or reading or knitting, and sometimes finnick gets back so late that she falls asleep waiting. when this happens, he always carries her to bed, regardless of how tired he is. he’ll put whatever she’s baked on the cooling rack, or he’ll put a bookmark in her book to save the page, and then he’ll join her :’)

after her games, it takes annie years to feel comfortable with being in water again, but she misses the ocean often and finnick is always happy to go with her. they spend countless afternoons sitting on the shore shoulder to shoulder till she’s ready to go.

finnick likes to collect seashells for annie whenever they go. he knows annie likes them, but doesn’t feel comfortable enough with moving closer to the water which is where most of the shells wash up, so instead he brings them back to her. over time she builds quite a collection of seashells, seglass, and driftwood he’s brought back to her. sometimes she likes to braid the shells into her hair. 

annie wears finnick’s clothes often when he’s away at the capitol – especially his sweatshirts and jumpers – because she likes the feeling of being wrapped up in something warm and loose that reminds her of home. when finnick realises, he starts leaving her a few before every trip. by the time he gets back, they don’t smell like him anymore, and annie has to resort to tucking herself under whatever he’s wearing.

the first time finnick hears someone in four making fun of annie, they’re in the market in d4’s main port. he and annie are making their way past stalls leisurely when he hears it. it’s an unmistakably cruel remark, and it’s probably only said because people don’t seem to think annie can hear them when they make these comments. one glance at the girl tells finnick that she definitely has. she pretends not to hear, but finnick notices her posture droop ever so slightly. the boy fixes the perpetrators with a glare ready to put them in their place, but before he can say anything, annie tugs on his hand. “can we go, finn? i just want to go.” finnick wants to tell her that if anything, the people who made the remark should leave, but annie’s gaze is pleading. generally, people don’t make many comments about annie when he’s around too, but he imagines that it must be bad when he’s not.

finnick always does his best to stifle any sound he might make when he wakes up from nightmares, unwilling to wake annie up too. somehow, she always seems to notice anyway -- they’re both quite light sleepers so it doesn’t take much to wake her up. annie almost always seems to know what finnick needs, but she always asks before initiating any type of physical contact. usually, he’s okay with it; practically falling into her arms, but when he isn’t annie limits herself to linking her pinky with his and taking deep and slow breaths until his breathing matches her own.

[harukapologist]

Mikoto helping Haruka dye his hair? :) or literally anything 0109 related, idm!

AAAHHH THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING 0109 THIS WAS SO FUN TO DRAW, MADE ME SO HAPPY 😭💖💖💖 I hope my drawing makes you happy too!!! I love 0109 siblings so so so much waaaaaaaa

Pic 1:

H: *talking about his special interest*

Pic 2:

M: *thinking* "Soft hair!!"

[ritzy-reminiscence]

Romantic headacon Rocky x male reader who is apathetic and deeply depressed, the only thing that keeps him going is Rocky

─♣️─ Lackadaisy : Apricity

⸝⸝ tl;dr : the warmth of the sun during winter's worst, rocky rickaby is quite frankly the only thing keeping you going .

⸝⸝ notes : this post contains mentions of depression and ever so slightly implies spicy stuff; if you're uncomfortable with such subjects, please click away ! this post is also pretty long, i had too much fun writing this aaa

When was the last time you felt alive?

Not recently, that's for sure. Every day just seems to pass by in a blur -- all the same stories, all the same places. You never care to look at things anymore ; they're all uniform anyways, why bother?

Maybe it's just the weather. Maybe it's just the way the heavy winter clouds block out the sun that's got you like this. Maybe, maybe. Two syllables that seem to define your current state : Maybe I'll feel better. Maybe I won't. Walking the tightrope of life with cloth pulled over your eyes, no end in sight.

It's worst during the nights. Atleast in the day there's something to distract you -- your neighbors' bickering, the leak in the kitchen faucet, the state of your room. Anything to help you turn a blind eye to your plight.

But the nights are different. Silence everywhere, like a blanket covering the world, forcing all your senses to focus on how you are, what you are, how you got here. When was the last time you ever felt alive?

And then there would be a rumbling outside, like a car on the pavement. All cars sound the same to you -- all except his. The sound of his car alone wakes your nerves, the revving of the engine shooting adrenaline straight into your veins.

The sounds of a car door closing, quick footsteps on the stairs, an earth-shattering knock on your door. His voice, weightless as gossamer and bright as sunlight -- "Y/N ! Are you in there ?"

Your heart grows wings, flutters in your ribcage. Just his voice alone stirs your psyche awake.

You don't remember what happens during your late-night rendezvous with Rocky Rickaby. He could've taken you out to a restaurant, he could've sung ballads to you with his violin in the moonlight, he could've cooked you a ten-course meal in your kitchen (how has it not burned down yet ?) -- you could never remember.

What you do remember, however, were the ways his hands (paws?) caress your skin, your face, your hair, rousing your body from a sleepy stupor. Times with Rocky means times where your breathing quickens, gasps and pants escaping your mouth; where your lips form words, which tumble like a waterfall, your throat working hard to talk after hours upon hours of silence; nevermind the neighbors, let them hear.

You don't remember what happens during your meetings, except for the times after where he holds you in his arms, stroking your back. The crickets chirp outside the window; moonlight falls through the glass.

At times like that you listen to his heartbeat, steady as a drum, and at times like that you recall the question you've asked yourself over and over again : When was the last time I felt alive?

And then you'll smile, move closer to him, and you'll say : When I'm with him. Outside the walls of your bedroom, time speeds up, time slows down. Days and months and years could pass outside, but in your room it's stopped for the two of you, a living memory frozen in time.

[literaphobe]

preview for ch 8 pleaseeeeeee im going thru withdrawals

AS PROMISED HERES ANOTHER SNIPPET!!! oooooh wow it’s all italicized oooooh wonder what that could mean oooooooh

[spearxwind]

not to sound weird but what was that work you put in to get where you are 🙏 i want to improve my life so bad but have no clue where to start. even a general gist of things

You dont sound weird! I think it's commendable to want to change your life for the better, and I want to help in any way I can :D

This is also my own perspective but I think a lot of it could be universally applied if you look at it through different lenses of ppls different situations. This also got rly long so I'm putting it under a readmore ^^;

So I had pretty much been isolating myself with increasing ferocity for years until recently. Even when trying to reach out to people I was extremely closed off, keeping my feelings behind many walls and chains always. A lot of my hard work has come from undoing all of that fuckup. I put all my eggs into my online friendships (and even then had a hard time with them).

My behavior was a cluster of personal garbage, learned mannerisms from keeping bad company, and hardwired reactions to specific behaviors. It's something pretty hurtful to realize when you do realize it, but that doesn't mean that you are a bad person or a failure or anything like that. It just means that you have certain bare minimum survival behaviors that worked before but now are only doing you damage, and you have to learn to undo them. (which is a great step!!)

Which brings me to what I have (painfully) learned over the past several years: the basis to any and every good relationship, romantic, platonic, family, or anything is crystal clear communication. Straight up for the love of god communication skills will save your life time and time and time again

And also like I said in earlier posts the solution to wanting to be more social is just BEING more social. This is arguably extremely hard, especially after years of "if they want me around they'll ask me" and always waiting to be invited but not wanting to bother anyone by asking if you can join NO!!!!!!!! GET THAT SHIT OUT OF YOUR BRAIN EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY!!!!! It really does NOT work that way at all. People will invite you to things if they see you express interest in them. The same way that in your head you think 'theyll invite me if they want me to go' if they dont see you express interest people will think you dont want to join. If you go someplace and just stay recluse because youre shy they likely will also think "theyre probably not comfortable or dont want to be here, so we wont force them". People are inherently kind and they are definitely NOT thinking about shunting you on purpose (and I am speaking this, genuinely, from personal experience)

While I was studying my major I got close to a group of people and thought of them as my friend group, but they always seemed cold to me, and I rarely got invited to hangouts because they seemed closer among themselves so I ended up always thinking that they didn't really want me around, and created all of these assumptions in my mind about them or what they thought of me.

Years later, recently, I found one of them again just... randomly while walking through the street and we started talking. And in my much better state of mind I asked about this whole thing because I wanted to know how the rest of the group was doing (I care very much for them still) and he revealed to me that THEY were the ones who thought I was shutting myself off of the group bc I didnt wanna be close to them. Which just blew my mind but it made a lot of sense and explained a lot. I was always on my phone too, talking with my internet friends (because it was my comfort zone), so what they'd assumed was that I already had a friend group that I was invested in and so I wasnt going to prioritize them. SO basically this whole thing ended up being resolved with clear communication and would have been solved much earlier if I had just spoken up about it and gotten braver (though my mental state did not let me at the time)

Anytime you are making up assumptions and ultimatums in your mind without communicating them to the other party you should stop and very much go and speak out loud to the other party (or parties) it will genuinely do you good cause huge as hell brain snowballs do nothing but drown you in your own mind.

Also on the being social front, if you dont have the practice in then it will be hard but a lot of it is very much "fake it till you make it" and I genuinely cannot recommend that enough. Inject yourself into conversations and places and act like yourself unapologetically because the secret isnt to craft a persona that you think people will like, its just being yourself and finding people who will love you for who you are. And like I said I just got invested in other ppls plans and asked to be able to go to places, and oftentimes just by expressing interest i got invited "oh I love this show very much!!" "well we have a plan to watch it at my pals house do you wanna come?" "we were planning on going to X place this week" "omg that sounds so cool can I come with" "of course!" Generally people will respond with "the more the merrier" so please dont be afraid to ask. And even if you get a rejection or two it's fine, don't let it discourage you. Some plans are simply not meant to be, and that's totally fine too!

Something else I worked for was reestablishing contact with old highschool friends I'd lost and I missed terribly. I went out of my way to find them again (old phone numbers, old emails, old instagram accounts that hadnt posted since 2019), and I found them!

And most of them really missed me too and were absolutely thrilled I contacted them again, we picked up right where we left off eight years prior. With a lot to catch up to but its genuinely so nice to have them in my life rather than just melancholically thinking about them and wondering if they hated me or anything. Turns out that they had also thought to contact me as well or had tried and lost my phone, or some of them even thought that it was better to leave things as they were to not "stir up shit" so we were all stuck in the same loop of insane thinking without actually confirming it until one of us (me in this case) finally broke the ice (and it took a damn long time too)

The thing is, people are just like you. We all have our own mental nonsense to fight, and we all have our assumptions and propensity to think ourselves into the grave, that's why its so so so so important to communicate things as clearly and as often as possible. Bearing your suffering alone will only make you miserable in the end, and your circle is there to help you

As a last note, I do want to say I have been incredibly lucky, because the friend group I've been adopted into I have met through that one friend from uni that I just HAPPENED to find on the street. I could have not waved him over on the street and just kept walking with my music on and ignored him. I could have said 'no' to his offer to get dinner that day if I'd wanted to be home earlier. I could have never spoken up about liking eurovision and never gotten invited to the hangout where I met my bf. And none of this would have ever happened at all. But that just strengthens my advice of "just say yes and reach out of your comfort zone" because you never know where it's going to lead you!

All this to say:

Communicate clearly with your peers to reduce misunderstandings. More likely than not they'll be in the same boat as you are. (Also extra note. Communication works BOTH WAYS. It needs to come from both parties. It is also a skill you have to nurture and hone!!)

Be kind!! and be loving!! and be yourself unapologetically!!

reach out to people the same way that you'd want to be reached out to. It sucks that sometimes (even often) you have to be the one to do it, but you eventually reap what you sow and people will learn that they can reach out to YOU

People will respond in kind to you being nice to them and a positive energy in their life. Some people will take advantage of it yes, thats just how things are, and its something you have to learn to recognize but you should never let that steel your heart. It is so so so important to remain kind and loving the world needs it so much. We're all out here trying to make our own lives and our loved ones lives a little bit brighter <3

[sylvies-kablooie]

tbh, i think the whole thought process behind how sylvie is written is that she is not attached to loki and her happiness doesn't at all depend on him in any way.

was their connection deep? did he impact her? "shatter" her world even? yes. this is why she is so angry at him. bc in her mind, he had betrayed her.

but he doesn't take up much more space in her mind. she goes on to live her life just fine without him at the end of both seasons.

loki is a different story, he is obsessed with her to the point of doing something completely "out of character" and being ready to sacrifice everything for her.

i personally love how "unequal" their relationship is in this way, but i understand that it's not the majority of shippers' cup of tea kind of dynamic.

this is an interesting interpretation! i enjoy getting to hear people's differing takes on their dynamic, so this was a fun read. and hey if unrequited is your trope then all the more power to you. you're braver than me, that's for sure.

i haven't rewatched s2 (and tbh idk if i ever will- it just didn't do it for me the way i wanted it to) but the consensus that "loki fell first and harder" def seems supported by s1 and enhanced by s2. which i think made it all the more shocking when she kisses him first. i love that little detail.

i have a different take, which is informed by episode 5- particularly the bar scene contrasted with the record shop scene. she tells him to go and live his life and move on, then immediately goes to a record shop, tells the man at the counter she had a bad day, and then cries to the velvet underground (it looked like crying, also possible she was just laying there and basking it all in, which is just as compelling in my opinion).

to me that read as someone who is trying so hard to place their feelings in a convenient little box and ignore them and then running away when it doesn't work.

sylvie doesn't strike me as someone who can sit still, especially not after living through a million apocalypses and trying to ensure her survival. and while getting a job in oklahoma might not be the same frantic pace she's used to, i do think she threw herself into it (employee of the month placard i'm looking at you!) so she has a new life, a new job, time to do things like go to the bar and get a haircut and listen to music and do everything possible to just. not. process. the annoying feelings that the citadel situation brings up. just keep moving! just don't think about it! and so when loki rolls up at her work, she tries to push him away, tell him he's the last thing she wants to deal with, get him to leave. the tone in the bar scene felt like that to me as well. like she's saying just leave me so i can stop thinking about this.

of course, loki does not want to leave her- it's just that for some reason he is physically incapable of talking about anything but the TVA, who ruined her life and she justifiably wants nothing to do with hearing about how great they actually are. he is pretty skilled at killing the mood. (i take great pleasure in rewrite fics that make a show of addressing this)

am i blinded by shipping goggles and my own projection onto her? it's possible! but to me it read as someone in denial. when we hear sylvie talk about her love life on the train in s1 (a scene i LOVE because it seems so out of left field for her) we get a very clear sense she has no idea what she is doing when it comes to romance (and then flat out says so during the blanket scene). her experience with romance hasn't been anything real, to the point where i hesitate to even use the term "romance"- just centuries of numbing herself by staying busy with a fling. she is like a shark that will just collapse if she stops moving. which we get to see her do in the record store!

that's just how i read it though! your read on it is just as valid and i like hearing all of the different takes. i am by no means trying to persuade you to join my pining sylvie agenda, just using this blog as a means of idea exchange. which i love doing. seriously it's so fun.

[gotchibam]

That meditite is so fucking sploopy. Its fucking schloopy. Look at its face. Look at it. Incredible. 10/10. Thank you for your service to the meditite tag

🙏🤍💙🤍💙🤍✨

[theloveinc]

SHINSOU MAN, like really makes me feral thinkin like.. mans is SO nervous around you, you've been dating for a little while but hes still scared to breathe too hard around you. You both go to a mutual friends birthday and you're getting a drink for you and your mans, only to come back and he's literally in the middle of a fistfight, the other guy gets him in the jaw and he practically EATS it like its nothing, its only when you grab his white shirt with blood all over it and pull him off the other guy that you find out the guy said something SLIGHTLY disrespectful about you in your dress. And you have to try not to fuck him right there and help him clean the blood off his chin.

Under the awfully-yellow sting of the bathroom's florescent lights, it's the third time in a row you've tried to dab at Shinso's lip with an alcohol soaked cotton ball, trying (but mostly failing) to staunch the flow of blood which continues to pool and crack at the left corner of his mouth.

The split is only one of the two real injuries he came away from the fight with (aside from the potential concussion he might have no matter how fast he recovered from being punched between the eyes), but every time you try to press into the wound and wipe up the mess that was left behind, Shinso leans away as if to weaken the effect of your touch.

"Shinso, let me try. Please,” you beg. "You’ve gotta stop acting like this."

"This?" he finally responds, surprisingly egregious in tone for someone of his usually-very-cool temperament, eyebrows going halfway up his actively-bruising forehead as he snaps his head to face you. The sudden movement causes your hand to go skidding across his cheek, leaving a long red stain straight up to the swollen temple he's currently holding a bag of melting ice against. "The guy said he’d—”

"I know what he said," you cut him off, throwing down the now-soggy puff onto the porcelain countertop as you step back and glare. "I'm talking about the fact you're barely letting me help clean you up."

Shinso rolls his eyes. "You think I asked for help dealing with this?”

“It’s not fair for you to hurt yourself if I’m just meant to sit there and watch. We’re supposed to be dating. Are we?”

"What,” you can tell he’s trying not to raise his voice, especially as you reach out to trace your fingers down his arms, “do you think?"

"Hitoshi," he finally looks at you straight when you say that name, his body instantly going still. “I am being dead serious. Either you were standing up for me, or you just wanted to pick a fight. Which is it?"

If possible, the man's frown deepens even further, though you can feel the way his muscles begins to relax as he tries to calm himself under your touch.

He pauses a minutes to swallow. And to stare. And then, “you,” he finally says, unblinking. "I was doing it for you."

You lean back in finally, tenderly, pulling him into a soft kiss where his lips fit perfectly against yours and the taste of blood the last thing on your mind.

"Good," you pull back, only slightly, near breathless. "So let me help you. At least before I thank you.”

-

(someone get this man some ginseng… sorry i went insane anon!! shinso just makes me a lil wet. I hope this was okay)

[inkykeiji]

Have you thought about a Tomura-nii? 🥺

ooooh my god anon

tw: pseudocest (adopted siblings), coercion, taking advantage of a younger sibling’s naive and innocent nature, implied size difference (reader is smaller than tomura), female reader, virgin!tomura, masturbation, blood, noncon, overstimulation, blowjobs, use of the word daddy to describe adoptive father, honestly just really fucking nasty and genuinely disgusting, please be careful with this lil piece words: 792

i have!!! i just feel like he’d be really fucking gross, you know??? disgusting in the most heinous way, like flawless tomura but a hundred times worse. i feel like he’d totally be a shut-in, completely inexperienced because your adoptive father (afo) never lets either of you—his fully grown adult children—out of his or kurogiri’s watchful protection. but that doesn’t mean there aren’t times when they aren’t looking.

tomura-nii has never been touched, romantically or sexually, by anyone else, but he is an avid consumer of porn + hentai, so much so that it borders on addiction. and eventually, it just isn’t enough. it isn’t enough to spend hours locked away in his room, jerking his cock until it’s red and wrecked, skin chafed so bad its flaking and peeling and bleeding, thin little wounds that weep crimson staining the lines of his sweaty palm a watery pink. it isn’t enough to throw hundreds and hundreds of his father’s money at those online cam girls, making them do unspeakable acts and recording it all for him. it isn’t enough, he needs more, he needs real; something he can feel, something he can touch, something he can own and mark and sink his teeth into—flesh and blood and bone filling his hands and yielding beneath his fingers and quivering around his cock. 

he needs you. 

and sure, he’s sheltered, but you’re even more sheltered, not even allowed access to the internet without daddy’s heavy supervision—so when he sees you, his innocent, naive, totally fucking clueless little sister, he knows he can manipulate you into doing whatever the fuck he wants you to, because nii-san said so, and nii-san knows best, right? nii-san is older, wiser, the boss, and what he says goes, always. he’s basically second in command beneath your adoptive father; even kurogiri seems to bend and break to his every will and whim and wish. 

so who are you to say anything, to know any better, against your bigger, smarter, better brother? who are you to deny him, to say ew and no and gross and it’s wrong! when he slinks into your bedroom in the middle of the night, waking you with his ragged pants and the vigorous slap of his fist against his pelvis, and streaks that lacy little nightgown with thick strokes of glistening cream, quickly cooling as they seep into the dainty fabric, heavy and gelatinous against your skin?

who are you to refuse him, when he asks if he can see how pretty your pussy is, when he asks if he can play with it, unexperienced fingers grinding and pinching until your rubbed-raw clit is swollen and your trembling thighs are stained with copious amounts of your own slick and your eyes are lidded and glassy, vision downy at the edges and bleary with tears, because it (finally) feels so good, too good, that you’re fucking sobbing? 

who are you to reject him, when he says he wants to show you his cock, when he tells you to hold it in your soft little palms and pet it until it’s oozing something sticky and shimmering all over your skin, when he demands that your lick your hands clean, that you put the head in your mouth and suckle on it, that you glide the tip of your tongue, rounded and hard, over the slit as fast as you can—back and forth, back and forth, until he’s shoving the entire thing into your mouth and he’s stuffing your throat full of something thick and acrid? 

nii-san says that it’s okay, that this is normal and what good little sisters are supposed to do, that brothers and sisters who love each other so much do this all the time, and don’t you love him, too? don’t you want to show him just how much you love him? just how perfect and obedient you are? 

and nii-san would never lie to you, would never lead you astray, would never ever want to hurt you, so you should believe everything he says without question, right? right. 

and, christ, you’re so fucking good, so sweet and precious and daddy’s flawless, faultless little rule-abiding princess, adhering to every order and regulation given to you. but daddy doesn’t deserve you, or your good nature and kind heart and eager-to-please tendencies; not when tomura sees you more often, takes care of you better than daddy ever has or ever will, so shouldn’t you be his flawless, faultless little rule-abiding little princess, too? nii-san deserves your attention so much more than daddy does, don’t you think? you owe him this much, yeah? 

of course. of course you do.