#the ties that bind us etc etc

[aeyumicore]

please & thank you

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: sylus x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with very little/no plot, porn with feelings

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 7.5k

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, SLIGHT spoilers to the lore (with some of my own interpretations and theories), oral m!receiving, fingering f!receiving, face/throat fucking, finger sucking, kinda rough, size difference, cuffing/tied up (m!receiving), sylus kindaaaa/degrading mean but in a tasteful way, he’s also very soft for reader, sylus has a FILTHY mouth, orgasm denial (f! and m!receiving), mirror sex, improper use of Evol, use of Y/N, cute petnames hehe (little dove, little bird, sweetheart, doll, etc), slight predator and prey, choking (kinda breath play??? not really), some references to lore (main storyline + midnight stealth), kinda sub!reader, dom!sylus, THIS IS FILTHY YALL IDK WHAT ELSE TO SAY

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: ao3

━ ✧.˖ A/N: hi guyssss she is here <3 MY FIRST ever sylus fic, first of many me thinks bc i am so utterly infatuated w him im sorry zayne LOL

i did NOT end up making this connected to ‘midnight stealth’ OR ‘no defense zone’ (although some midnight stealth plot is referenced a tiny bit in the beginning). any resemblances to these two memories are purely coincidental, mostly similar because there’s use of cuffs/restraints in all three. this is purely a standalone filthy fic

this has veryyyy little plot, i decided to keep it that way so im sorry to those who wanted to see plot in this ;_; i didn’t want to burn out, which i likely would’ve because pivoting from what i had (5.6k words) to a more plot based fic would have taken me a few more days and probably double the words and i just couldn’t do that to myself. 

i appreciate you guys for supporting me and i really respect each and every opinion so i hope i didn’t let anyone down by not doing the plot version. there will be plenty of opportunities for that i promise <3

pls enjoy :) any comments or reblogs r greatly appreciated (and loved) by me <3 they help me keep motivated to keep writing and truly make my whole week.

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ .

You were playing with fire.

Actually, what you were doing was definitely more dangerous and infinitely more idiotic than playing with fire. 

It was downright deranged. 

It appeared the silver haired man beneath you agreed, his jaw ticking dangerously as his deep crimson eyes crinkled in warning, “Are you sure this is a game you want to play?” 

You knew the answer was definitely no. But the mere glimpse of the Onychinus leader beneath you, at your mercy, was enough to make you push through the thrilling fear coursing through your veins.

With Sylus’s chiseled body unwillingly sprawled out before you, you situated yourself in between his thighs. Though his words and expression were laced with a cautionary edge, his legs spread open for you. 

His wrists were bound with the two silver cuffs you’d purchased at a novelty store on girls day out with Tara, each hand simultaneously locked to the steel beams of your bed’s headboard. With his arms bound above his head, his button up shirt rode up to expose his pale and scarred skin and the defined outlines of the chiseled pelvic muscles that lead to his manhood.

It wasn’t a stretch to say you’d planned this, after all you did buy the cuffs with Sylus in mind. And you’d never forget what Luke and Kieran had told you, in what felt like a lifetime ago. 

“Boss is most vulnerable when he’s sleeping.” 

Except now you weren’t binding him for the purpose of incapacitating him to find that damned brooch he’d taunted you with. Now, when he’d dozed off after you’d forced him to marathon the Harry Potter series with you, you tied him up with only one goal in mind.

Well maybe two. To tease and to punish.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you watch the way Sylus’s naval rises and falls irregularly, a subtle sign of his boiling anticipation. His exposed pelvis is dusted in a faint path of hair, trailing to where his pants hang dangerously low on his hips, after you’d taken his belt off. 

Sylus watches you with a careful eye as your hands find his waistband, tugging his bottoms and his boxers down in one motion. He tuts disapprovingly, even as his body lifts every so slightly to assist you in undressing him, “I’ve already warned you once. I won’t warn you again.” 

And yet, there’s an undeniable amusement in his voice that lets you know it’s safe to keep going. Your eye contact never breaks as you tug his clothing all the way down, until they rest at his ankles. His hardening cock springs free as you do so, the thick mushroom head already leaking a shiny streak of precum. As it slaps against his abdomen, Sylus’s carmine irises darken, but he refuses to make any sounds. The screech of steel rattling against steel is loud in the tense air, the formidable man’s fists clenched so tightly his nails threaten to break his skin. 

You bend down slowly, torturously languid, until his masculine scent invades your senses. You shiver in pleasure, positively addicted to every part of him. Sylus’s stomach heaves as he curses you inwardly; you were the only devilish minx that could even fathom rendering him into this vulnerable state. The only person he’d ever allow to see him like this. 

“You’ve become quite bold, little bird. Perhaps I’ve been too lenient with you.”

His cocky attitude makes you want to shiver, but you find the strength to retort back, “Perhaps you have.”

Not wanting to give him a chance to respond, and a chance for you to lose your courage, you let your tongue run over the thick tip of his erection, collecting his arousal on your tongue. You make a show of savoring his taste, letting your eyes bat at him while you lick him clean. 

Sylus is hypnotized, crunching up to watch you. His wrists pull against the metal restraints, growing irritated with being held back. Of course, if he’d wanted to, he could snap the cuffs with a mere tick of his fingers, but he found it amusing to watch his mischievous little bird believe she had control. 

When you take his head fully into your lips, Sylus’s hips involuntarily buck up into the heaven that is your mouth. Though surprised, you do your best to accommodate the extra inches, tongue twirling around his leaking slit as your jaw unhinges to take in his fat girth. 

“Fuck.” 

Sylus’s dark eyebrows are scrunched as he fights the urge to destroy the cuffs to get to you, wanting nothing more than to sink his fingers into your hair and push you down until you couldn’t breathe. But he prided himself as a man of patience, even if he despised being tested. 

And you were absolutely testing him. Your puffy lips caressed his sensitive veins, tongue assaulting every flaming nerve of his massive length, delicate and soft fingers leaving no inch of him untouched. Yet you moved so languidly. Deliberately testing how far you could push him, testing his resolve. Not that he would ever beg, but he desperately wished you’d move faster, take him deeper. 

“My love,” he purrs, deceptively calm even as your filthy tongue lathered his most sensitive parts, “I implore you to release me. While I’m still feeling generous.” 

Doing your best to shut him up, you take him into the back of your throat, fingers shifting from the base of his manhood to his heavyset balls. You’re only half successful in your antics, as you do cut off Sylus’s demands, only to be replaced by an inexplicable string of curses. The daunting leader of the Onychinus, whose name evoked fear itself to most, unraveled at your whims. A man who had no weaknesses, save for one.

You.

With his head thrown back, hair tousled and matted with a thin layer of sweat, he began to pant heavily. His neck bobbed deeply to the rhythm of his gasps, hands pulling against the restraints you’d locked him into. The sound of metal clashing against metal is almost deafening, your head snapping up to his arms bound above his head. 

For a second you’d feared he’d snapped the steel cuffs, his biceps rippling and forearm veins bulging with the sheer strength of his arms. But fortunately for you, his wrists were still firmly bound, a red angry circle forming where the metal met the pale skin of his hands. 

“Do you really think – hah – this will end well for you, dove?” Sylus considers this your very last warning, crunching up once again to watch you, your mouth full of his cock, saliva dribbling down your chin as you try to accommodate his thickness. He swears under his breath at the sight of you, his woman, the only person he’d ever even consider letting his guard down around, pleasuring him so sweetly and enthusiastically. Even if you were so foolish that you thought you could get away with typing him up. 

You look up innocently at him, fluttering your eyelashes as you fuck him with your mouth. Though you let him hit the back of your throat every time, your rhythm is intentionally and torturously slow, edging him without making it obvious enough for punishment. And although each intentional motion elicits the most mind numbing grip from your gag reflex on his throbbing erection, he’s losing his mind from how much more he wants. How much more he needs. 

“Faster.”

You nearly choke as you giggle at his demands, releasing his cock with a resounding pop. Of course, even tied up, Sylus didn't use the word ‘please.’ The man of unthinkable power was absolutely used to getting what he wanted without even batting an eye. It was a habit that he rarely relented on, and when he did it was only for you. 

“What’s the magic word?”

Sylus glowered at you, jaw twitching dangerously as he did his best to hold himself back, “Watch it.” 

It was truly taking every ounce of willpower he had to not rip the cuffs off the steel beams of your bed, taking your headboard apart with it. All so he could have more.

“Sylus,” you pout, still using your hands to gingerly stroke him with a featherlike touch. Nothing intense enough to get him off. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you to say ‘please’ when asking for something?” You give him a pointed squeeze, thumb stroking the underside of his swollen head. 

He curses, pelvis thrusting up into your fist to try and chase the pleasure you’re withholding from him, “Fuck, if you’re going to act like a brat, I’m going to treat you like one.”

“I just want to hear the words ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ Please. See how easy that is?”

“Y/N, my heart,” Sylus purrs lowly, eyes glinting dangerously, “I won’t tolerate any more disobedience.”

“Well then you don’t get what you want.” As soon as the words left your mouth you knew you’d regret them. 

Before you can even blink, you find yourself pressed firmly into the mattress, your head hanging off the side, hair dangling freely. The air feels strangely brisk, and you can vaguely feel your nipples hardening. It’s then you realize you’re naked. But you hadn’t felt Sylus lay a single finger on you.

His Evol.

You’d become so accustomed to Sylus’s Evol that you no longer felt its slightly suffocating  invisible web when it touched you, unlike when you’d first met him in the N109 zone. The countless times he’d use his Evol to guide your lips to his, your hand into his larger ones, or to undress you, had actually made you quite fond of the touch of his Evol. 

Little did you know that Sylus had actually been practicing lightening up the intensity of it, for you. He’d always detested seeing the uncomfortable scrunch of your eyebrows, the hostile goosebumps that would raise where his Evol touched you. So he’d absolved himself to train the claws of his Evol to soften, instead becoming that of a gentle caress. Only for you, of course. For everyone else, they got the skin-shredding talons that parents warned about in cautionary tales to their children. 

Hanging upside down, the glint of the ceiling light against the silver cuffs hanging off your headboard catches your eye, snapping you from your thoughts. The metal loops were still completely intact, but unlocked. Of course you knew he’d use his Evol to escape eventually, but it still surprised you how he managed to do it so effortlessly. Graceful in everything he did. 

You try to sit up, but Sylus’s hand wraps itself softly around your throat and holds you back down. He tsks scornfully, a playful warning in the swirling glowing cerise of his eyes. His grip is gentle enough where you can still speak normally. Rough enough where you want more.

So you pout childishly, “It’s just like you to use your Evol for such cheap tricks.” 

From beneath his towering frame, you can just barely see him raise his perfectly arched eyebrow. Most of him is obstructed by his massive erection pressed at your nose, menacingly imposing before you. “Cheap? Doll, there’s nothing cheap about me. And nothing cheap about the things I’m going to do to you.”

You shiver involuntarily at his threats, your thighs clenching together in anticipation. Sylus’s words were always harsh, but when it came to you there was always such a profound sincerity and gentleness behind his actions, even when he was brutally devouring your body. So the danger edged into his words only served to excite you, fueling the dampness that had formed between your legs. 

And of course, his perfect cock dangling in front of your lips, still glistening with a sheen of his arousal and your saliva. Hanging so closely to your waiting tongue, but never touching. That definitely did not help the throbbing ache in between your thighs. 

“I think you’ve had enough fun, don’t you agree?”

Feeling daringly bold, you playfully curse him, “Screw y–” But before you can finish getting the words out, Sylus grips your jaw, shoving himself into your waiting mouth. The force he uses is enough to make your eyes roll back, the feeling of being full of him making you forget what you’d wanted to say to begin with. You’re careful to pull back your teeth as he finds his way to one of his favorite places, the back of your throat. 

“Let’s give that mouth something to do, other than run itself, hmm?”

You groan in response, letting the vibrations of your throat speak for you. Sylus grunts, removing his hand from your throat and weaving it into your hair like he’d wanted to earlier. His grip is strong, just hard enough that you feel an immense pleasure from the stinging pull. With a firm hand on your scalp, he fucks into your face, his meticulously groomed hair brushing against your nose at every thrust. 

His speed and vigor is relentless, not that you’d complain even if you could. The feeling of Sylus driving in and out of your throat, like you were a fleshlight, had your body vibrating with need, clit throbbing in ecstasy. How you could feel this good just sucking his cock was beyond you. Your unrestrained moans were an absolute orchestra to his ears, the vibrations running through every nerve ending in his erection, causing him to release a string of his own sounds 

“You’re so – hah – exquisite like this, dove. Choking on my cock instead of your words.”

You whine at him, so unbelievably turned on by the filthy way he speaks to you. His skin slaps against your wet mouth, and an obscene amount of drool mixed with precum drips off your cheeks and onto the carpeted floor beneath you. You loll your tongue out to try and catch his copious dribbles of precum, not wanting to waste any part of him. 

“I can see my cock in your throat, sweetheart,” he cooed, using a hand to brush against your throat, where his erection bulges against your neck each time he fucks into you. 

Tears streamed from your eyes as Sylus’s pace increased, gripping onto your hair for even more leverage against your beautiful face. 

“Crying already? Not feeling so bold anymore, my love?” 

You ignore his patronizing words, trying to focus instead on your own pleasure. With one hand still gripping the hard muscles of his bubbly rear, your other hand wanders to the quivering area between your thighs, fiddling with the bundle of nerves that was slick with your arousal. You desperately seek to relieve some of the tension building up in your gut, all from just Sylus’s cock in your mouth.

But before you can give yourself any inkling of pleasure, you feel a familiar force of energy pulling your hand away. 

“I don’t recall giving you permission to touch yourself.”

You nearly sob at his words. You want to speak, plead with him to touch you, or at least let you touch yourself, pride be damned. But his unbelievable girth makes it impossible to do anything but devour him repeatedly.

The white haired man above you watches you carefully, swearing at how your tear soaked face makes his resolve to punish you crumble ever so slightly. Taking pity on you, he brings your hand to his, weaving his long fingers into yours. You hold his hand tightly, enjoying the way his much larger hand clasps into yours, fingers digging into your sensitive flesh.

“Good girl,” he coos in praise, voice tinged with a condescension that makes your skin crawl in excitement, “You don’t touch what’s mine, unless I say, hm?”

You look up at him with wide wet eyes, nodding obediently as he continues to ravage your face. He pressed your hand deeper into the mattress, his thrusts becoming so intense that you knew you’d have a hard time speaking tomorrow, your throat battered and bruised. 

From your position, you don’t see the glowing light that emanates from your joined fingers. But Sylus does, and he watches in a concealed wonder at the way you can so easily resonate with him now. You didn’t even need to try, a single touch was all it took. It was a testament to how much you’d grown to trust him. 

No, it was a testament to the deep love and respect you’d both come to hold for each other. You’d both definitely come a long way from when he’d captured, or when you let him capture, you at the N109 zone all that time ago. The thought of that threatens to make Sylus shiver as he continues to ram himself deep into your warm wet throat. He watched the way you took him so eagerly, hand gripping his for dear life, your other hand coming up to stroke his heavyset balls as they slapped against your face. The way your poor little throat bulged every time he thrusted into it, the bump so visible to his hungry crimson eyes.

Oh, how you ruined him. He’d fucking marry you.

Your jaw ached, having been open as widely as possible for far too long now, but you did your best to continue to take him. The feeling of him using your mouth was more than enough to keep you growing wetter, needing more. Your thighs squeezed together, as you rocked into nothing, wanting nothing more than to feel any friction between your legs.

Sylus watched as you pathetically tried to find pleasure in the empty air, nearly growling at how arousing the sight was. He was fueled with such an intense desire and love for you, nothing like he’d ever felt before. And that love and desire was enough for him to concede, if even just a little bit, for you.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling…charitable today, my dove,” he murmurs, releasing your hair and bending over your body. His erection never leaves your mouth, but he hovers so that your sight is filled with the view of his solid abdominal muscles. You cry out against his member when the familiar feel of his fingers finds your clit. You gasp out, choking on him, your hips jolting up eagerly to meet his torrid touch.

Sylus chuckles, a satisfied smirk making its way onto his unfairly gorgeous face, “Look at how eager you are…all this just from the taste of cock?”

Not able to respond, you hump up into his hand, squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment of how desperate you were for him. Sylus only gives you a pointed thrust into your throat, making you gag deliciously around him again.

“Such an insatiable little bird,” he murmured, fingers expertly toying with you.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” his skilled ministrations never stopping, “I wish you could see how lovely you look with your mouth full.” 

Your eyes rolled back when he entered you, one finger at a time. He cursed at how tightly you gripped just one of his fingers. He had half a mind to just bury himself into your perfect cunt right then and there. And that’s just what he’d do. He was never used to not indulging in what he wanted, why stop now?

You felt the familiar shift in energy, a gentle hold on your body, until you found yourself laying on the middle of your bed, Sylus situated between your knees, fingers still toying with you. Your neck screaming in relief at the plush surface, mind reeling from the sudden shift. 

The white haired man bends to hover over you, free hand caressing your jaw, his frighteningly beautiful face before yours, “Hello, my love.”

Your voice is hoarse, sounding unfamiliar, “Hi.” It’s nothing more than a pitiful squeak.

Sylus chuckles, his chest rumbling warmly at your adorably vulnerable state, “How’s your throat?”

You glare at him, trying to steady your raspy voice, “Don’t patronize me.”

He smirks, not the least bit apologetic, but says, “Forgive me, love.” He doesn’t give you a chance to sass him further, instead bringing your chin up to his. His lips slot onto yours, deceptively slow at first and quickly progressing to a vigor that matched the way he’d rammed himself into your throat. 

The bruising intensity of the kiss made your mind muddle, your hands coming up to grasp his neck to ground you. You gasped at the feeling of his heartbeat pounding so forcefully in his neck. The familiar feeling of an earth shattering orgasm edges into your numbed mind, every heightened sense filled with Sylus and only Sylus.

You finally break away, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him scissoring in and out of you, enough to have you on the brink of climaxing, “Sy-Sylus, I’m–”

Sylus reads you like the back of his hand, withdrawing his fingers and roughly grabbing your face to look up at him. You sob at the loss of friction, looking up at him with teary questioning eyes. 

The ceiling lights illuminate behind Sylus, forming a halo like ring atop his head. He was so hauntingly and terrifyingly beautiful. Not unlike that of a fallen angel, whose sole purpose was to ruin you. 

And just as you’re admiring him, Sylus looks down at you. Unbeknownst to you, he also considers you to be his very own angel sent from the heavens. Bringing light and salvation to the shadowed crevices of his soul.

But even then, he can’t help but tease you, the urge to see you ruined at his hand. An angel with tattered wings, so utterly spent with lust. “You don’t cum until I say, hm?” As if to punctuate his point, he puts his fingers, wet with your slick, in between your parted lips. The taste of you is strong on him, enough to distract you from Sylus, who’s lining up his more massive than ever erection with your weeping slit. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Suck. I know you can do better than that.”  

He presses his fingers harder onto your tongue, relishing in how warm you feel around him. At your adorable pouty glare, he pushes his leaking tip into you.

You yelp in surprise, biting down on his fingers in your mouth. Sylus hisses, but the pain only further arouses him, making him shove into you suddenly. Your hands come up to grasp his forearm, the veins bulging under your touch. 

The feeling of him entering you is so overwhelming, the only thing grounding you to the present was the way his fingers felt and tasted against your tongue. And so you devoured him in earnest, much to his satisfaction. 

It’s not long before he bottoms out, his head kisses your cervix, just enough to have your eyes rolling back, sparks of hot white pleasure clouding your vision. 

Sylus removes his fingers from your mouth, bringing his thumb to his own lips and brushing it across his parted mouth, his other fingers outstretched as he licks across his thick thumb. You whimper at the sight, so unbelievably seductive he has to be doing it on purpose. 

“You always taste divine.” His movements have all but halted completely, his thick girth just sitting inside of you, brushing against your womb. And even though the stretch is enough to practically compress your lungs, you want more. 

“D-Don’t tease Sylus,” you whine pathetically, “Fuck me.” 

The smile on his face is as cocky as ever, the corner of his lips curving up, as sharp as his edged jaw. 

“So bold. Do you really think you’re in any position to make demands?”

He gives you just one pointed thrust, cockhead nestling so deliciously into your sweetest spots, but stopping just at that. You cry out, fingers gripping the comforter so tightly your knuckles turn white. 

“If I recall correctly…someone once told me something about saying…what was it? ‘Please’ and ‘thank you’?”

He grins down at you, bending forward so that he hovers right over your face. He would never let you know but the pouty grimace on your lust glowing face was nearly enough to have him caving into your every whim, punishment forgotten in the wind. 

“Hm? So what do we say, sweetheart?”

With his cock situated so perfectly in you, it’s impossible for you to do anything but follow his every command, no matter how much it bruises your ego.

“P-Please?”

His smirk deepens, fingers cupping your chin up to face him, “You can do better than that, Y/N.”

You groan as he shifts, giving you just the tiniest bit of friction where it mattered. You do your best to find the confidence, “Please Sylus.”

There’s the faintest flicker of darkness in his eyes, a twitch of unraveling at the way you effortlessly purr his name. If you had any idea the things you did to him, the mighty and fearless leader of the Onychinus, it would be his absolute undoing. 

“Please what, my dove? Come on, use that beautiful voice of yours.”

Before you can let out your snarky response, his fingers travel to your neck, stroking your sensitive pulse gently before pressing down to compress your airway. 

“Or is this throat only good for taking my cock?”

You whine at his words, patience absolutely gone. You wrap your legs around his waist and force him closer. A pathetic attempt to get him to thrust into you. Your hands come up to the back of his neck, and your tear glistening eyes search his pleadingly. He’s taken aback by the sudden shift, a small gasp escaping his parted lips. In his surprise, he lets himself be guided to you, his forehead falling to lay atop yours, his breath fanning against your own. 

“Please Sylus, please fuck me. I’m sorry, I’ll be a good girl. Please.”

The curse that leaves Sylus’s voice is barely perceptible as he drinks you in. Your cheeks were still streaked with tears, your eyes wide and glassy. Your lips were puffy from his bruising kisses, and cheeks heated with desire. There was absolutely nothing in the universe that could match how utterly gorgeous you were. His gorgeous woman. His to ruin. 

His voice low with longing and hunger, “Fuck, okay love. I’ll give you what you want.”

He manipulates the energy around you, raising your arm above your hand. His slender fingers dance up your exposed skin, until they find your fingers. His nails graze your inflamed skin, fingers toying with yours. For a brief moment, he enjoys how much smaller your hand feels in his. His delicate little bird.

“Hold on tight.”

Your fingers grip his, your nails digging in when he finally pulls his cock out, leaving only his head still snuggly inside. Without giving you a second to breathe, he’s plummeting himself back into your sopping cunt. Your combined slick ensures there’s zero resistance, only the sounds of wet slaps filling the space between you. 

Sylus’s forehead still rests against yours, his free arm bent above your head, helping support him as he fucks you with a painfully delicious intensity. Your cunt milks him perfectly, the warmth far too inviting and the tightness much too constricting. His fingers grip yours forcefully, trying to offset the way your pussy tries to suck the living soul out of him. 

“Sy-Sylus,” you cry out, nails digging crescents into his skin, your other hand coming up to rake red scratches into his back, “Slow – ngh – slow down!” Your brain is a jumbled mess, confused at the words your tongue lets out when your body only wants more.

Sylus’s chuckle is low and almost sinister, his pace never relenting, “That’s funny. I recall you saying you’d be a good girl.” He shifts his weight to his knees, moving his palm to your naval, pressing down. You squeal at the feeling of his palm pressing into your stomach, your sensitive walls being compressed into his cock spearing in and out of you. 

“And good girls take what they’re given, hm?”  

Moans and whimpers are the only thing you’re capable of producing, his pace brutal, like he was trying to find his way into your throat from your cunt. You don’t notice his hand traveling further south until his thumb presses into your swollen clit, flicking hard. You screech, your back arching off the bed, giving him further access to your dripping cunt. 

“Answer me when I speak to you, sweetheart.” 

“Yes! Yes, I’m a good girl, I can take it!” you all but screamed, spine so arched you felt like you were levitating.

The erotic cries that leave your lips make it difficult for Sylus to think straight, so he doesn’t. He fucks you with a ferocity that was nothing short of animalistic, the only thing he can think of is how many different ways he can and will make you cum. 

He presses your joined palms deeper into the mattress, eyes searching yours desperately. For what, you were unsure. But as his scarlet irises bore into yours, you felt an overwhelming sense of emotion catch in your throat.

Propping yourself slightly on your elbows, you pressed your forehead to Sylus’s, his sweat dampened bangs fluttering against your eyelashes.You reach up to cup the back of his head, pulling him towards you. His right hand never leaves your clit, his left staying tightly clasped with yours.

He takes the opportunity to press his lips to yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth. You moan into him as he claims you fully, thrusts moving in tandem with his tongue. It’s a torrid clash of tongue and teeth, enough passion to have the Aether core in your heart throbbing dangerously erratically. 

“Syluuus,” you slur as you pull away to breathe, “I-I’m..I’m gon–” You can’t get the words out, the tip of his cock against your cervix and fingers on your clit bringing you into another dimension, one filled with him. The scent, the sound, the feel, the sight of him. 

“I know. Getting so goddamn tight,” he grits out, jaw locking as he tries to steady himself against your vice grip. Sylus was a man of boundless stamina and restraint, but when it came to you… When it came to the absolute heaven that was your body, he could hold nothing back. 

Just as you neared your orgasm, Sylus stops again. You find your body being moved again, but this time Sylus’s hands are lifting you, and not his Evol. His strong arms lift you so that you’re sitting on his lap, your back pressed against his muscled chest, and his back leaned up against the bed.

He does however use his Evol to drag over the gold arched full-length mirror you had propped up against the corner of your bedroom, so that it sits right in front of the bed. Your vision is filled with the gleaming reflection of you, naked on Sylus’s lap, his arrogant smirk right by the top of your head. His muscular arms are draped over your thighs, spreading open your glistening folds, fully exposing you before the mirror. 

“Sylus s-stop. It’s embarrassing,” you whine, averting your gaze at the lewd sight, and the even filthier sounds of his fingers against your copious slick. But he grips your jaw firmly, turning you back to the mirror. 

“Look how beautiful you are,” he murmurs, lips pressed against your ear, “Look.” 

You puff your cheeks, fighting against his fingers.

“Look, love. Or you don’t get to cum,” he purrs in your ear.

You mutter sulkily, knowing full well his threats are anything but empty, “You’re evil.” 

But you obey diligently, letting his fingers guide your face forward. The sight before you is so unbelievably filthy, Sylus’s long fingers digging into your thighs to keep them spread open, his other fingers playing with your swollen lips. Even on his lap, he was a head taller than you, His soft white hair is matted with sweat, his cheeks dusted a peachy red with how vigorously he’d just been fucking you.

As your eyes meet in the mirror, Sylus lifts you from underneath your thighs, and spears you onto his cock. You cry out at the feeling of being stretched open again, Sylus’s own ecstasy fueled grunts in your ear.

With you atop him, his cock reaches so unbelievably deep inside you that you feel the tears returning. Your eyes screw shut as his tip repeatedly brushes against your cervix, the familiar pain quickly dulling into an intense pleasure. 

Suddenly you feel Sylus’s teeth at the crook of your neck, and arm coming across your chest to enclose over your entire throat. His sharp canines dig into the area where your neck meets your shoulder, biting just hard enough to make your eyes fly open to face his in the mirror. His eyebrows are quirked at you, amusement evident in his sharp ruby eyes.

He doesn’t speak, instead keeping his mouth attached to your pulse point. But the dark sultry heat swirling in his eyes that you can see reflected in the mirror is a clear and wordless command. 

Watch.

And who were you to disobey him, when his body brought this much pleasure to your own. 

So with your eyes locked on his in the mirror, Sylus begins to bounce you in earnest on his lap. And while you moan and whimper as he springs you so effortlessly on his cock, like you weighed nothing more than a mere toy, his own noises are muffled by his teeth that are sunk into your fluttering neck. 

His eyes never leave yours in the mirror, darkened underneath his eyebrows, glowing with red hot lust. The way he watches you is so intimately primal, like a predator toying with its prey before the kill. 

With his hungry gaze locking yours in place and the lewd wet sounds of slick skin pounding against one another, you feel the alarmingly rapid tightening of your abdomen that signals your orgasm. Sylus feels it too, your walls tightening so intensely that the outline of his veins might imprint into you. Your grip coaxes his own cock toward release, his jaw tightening as to keep himself in check. 

He releases your bruised skin, admiring how breathtaking you look with his marks on you. His hand leaves your clit to rest on your tummy, stroking the skin there. You can feel him use his Evol to keep you in place, only the raw strength of his thighs and abs keeping you in steady motion on his length. 

“Look,” he croons in your ear, teeth grazing against your sensitive earlobes, “Can you see where I am, dove? I’m allll the way here ” His husky voice drawls, hand on your abdomen pressing down. You can definitely see the distinct outline of something large thrusting in and out of you. Your eyes widen at the mirror, mesmerized at how your bodies connect, almost resonating on their own. Sylus’s eyes are also glued to the way the base of his cock, shiny with a ring of arousal, forces your tiny fluttering cunt to take him in all his glory.  

“Tell me how it feels, hm? Tell me how I make you feel.” When you don’t respond, too lost in the sight in the mirror, his fingers come back down to squeeze your clit,

“Sylus! – ngh – feels ssoo so good,” you simper, panting through the hold he still has on your throat, the pressure quickly becoming far too addicting, “I-I…”

“Hah,” he groans into your ear, “You what baby? Tell me.”

“M’gunna cuuum,” you wail as his angle shifts just slightly, cock driving into your g spot. Sylus knows just how to play with you, his fingers sending you to heaven and back repeatedly. He was so thick that you felt like he'd split you in two, your cunt and thighs being stretched to their limits against the sloppy friction.

“Hmmm, is my beautiful girl going to make a mess on me? Does she deserve to?”

The mere thought that he might deny your climax again has you sobbing, tears of anguished ecstasy rolling down your face as his pace picks up even further.

“P-Pleaaase – unghh – please let me. I’m a g-good girl, I’ll be so – hnngh – good, I promise.”

Sylus had no intention of denying you again, but now he physically couldn’t. Because now, watching the fat tears roll down your cheek and hearing your beautiful pleas, he too could feel himself pulse with the ache to fill you up. As he watched your breathtaking form in the mirror, he cursed the Gods for sending the only thing that could ruin him. 

You.

And yet, being ruined by you felt so damn good.

“Good for who, my love?”

Your vision has become clouded by your tears and the black spots that blot your eyesight. But the possessive purr in Sylus’s voice reaches you, through all the blinding pleasure, and makes butterflies flutter in your chest.

Your hands come up behind you to grasp behind his neck, and you strain yourself so that you turn just slightly to face him. For a second Sylus looks taken aback, but he quickly composes himself, the confident smile returning to his lips. 

“Nggghh – for you, Sylus.” The sincerity of your shaking voice wipes the cocky smirk off his face, his thrusts faltering ever so slightly. For a brief second, Sylus can’t feel anything. He can’t feel the way your cunt, on the precipice of release, squeezes so forcefully that it threatens to break him in half, the way your soaking thighs ripple against his lap as he pounds into you, the way your fingers play with the hair at the back of his head.

Fate had played a cruel trick on the two of you. Two tragically entwined Aether cores. Two birds of a feather, trapped in the cage destiny had built. 

But now, there is only you and him. Fate and destiny be damned. 

“I’m yours Sylus. Always yours.”

Your words, delicate and simpering, pull him back to reality. All the sensations he’d briefly been numbed to came crashing back. The torturously delicious way you felt around him, atop him, and against him swarmed back all at once. And to top it all off, the sight of your fluttery wide wet eyes, hazed over with a fog of lust, staring at him with such wonder and adoration. Your eyes alone were practically making love to him.

It made him absolutely feral.

You squeal, thighs doing their best to grip against Sylus’s lap as he bounces you with an unprecedented vigor, his hand holding your throat to keep you somewhat steady. You watch his muscles bulge, his much larger frame very much on display behind you. Powerful and imposing – a true god-like glory. 

“That’s fucking right, you’re mine,” he hisses in your ear, jaws clenched to hold back the moans your pussy threaten to pull from his body. 

“Gonna cum in you, yeah? Would my slutty girl like that?"

“Y-Yes!” you squeal, so close to coming undone, “Pleeease Sylus!  I-I’m s’close, I’ll do anything please!” You were quickly losing your voice amidst all the screaming and vigorous activities.

You can see Sylus devilish smile, releasing your throat to tilt your chin towards him.

“Anything? You’re making a deal with the devil, little dove.”

With your face so dangerously close to his, he can’t resist. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, his lips crashing onto yours, locked in the sweltering passion of your bodies. The feel of his tongue claiming every inch of your mouth is just enough to send you headfirst into the orgasm you’d been on the brink of for so long.

And because of that, your body couldn’t hold back the gush of excitement that squirted from where Sylus was connected to you. It’s so messy you can’t help the way your cheeks burn in embarrassment, even amidst the short circuiting of your pleasure-numbed brain. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” Sylus bites out, the tautening of your orgasm stricken cunt nearly squeezing him into unconsciousness. He fucks you through your blissed out state, and it isn’t long before he follows your lead. 

Like everything Sylus does, the way he cums is frighteningly powerful. Your body involuntarily shivers at how hot he is, but more so just how much there is. You can both clearly see the thick milky white seed seeping down Sylus’s cock, even as he continues to fuck into you. His thrusts are slower now, but more intentional. Conveying every ounce of passion into the way he rocks into you. Overstimulation quickly grips you, and you weakly tap at his thighs.

“Sylus, no-no more. S’too much.”

“M’not done,” he groans into your ear as he continues to thrust into you, and it’s then you feel his cock still shooting ropes of his hot spend inside you. He does, however, release your clit, shoving his fingers in your mouth, knowing it'll give you something to ground yourself amidst the sensitivity while he rides out the waves of his climax. 

You gladly accept his fingers, grasping his forearm and sucking like his arm was a dessert. The taste of your mixed slick helps distract you from the intense aftershocks that wrack your body. It’s all enough to have Sylus spurting out everything he has, drained completely empty, milked utterly dry. 

When you feel him finally still, you crack your eyes open, almost scared to see the aftermath. 

The waning sun bounced beams of golden sunlight off your sweat, tears, and cum slicked bodies. Your own body was also littered in pretty little bruises, in the shape of Sylus’s teeth and fingers. Bruises in places you hadn’t even felt Sylus sink his teeth into. They quite literally looked like swirls of paint against a blank canvas. 

Your hair was a mess, and your tear stained face was no better. The area between your thighs was red and puffy, leaking an obscene amount of white cream, all the while still stuffed to the brim with Sylus’s softening member. Even half hard, he stretched you absolutely full. 

On the other hand, the man in question looked absolutely ethereal as he loomed above you in the mirror. His hair sat lusciously soft, gently blowing with the breeze entering through the cracked window. His muscles still flexed gently as they recovered from the vigorous activities, strong chest rising and falling rhythmically with his steadying heartbeat. 

And finally his eyes that watch you back so carefully, the carmine orbs half lidded with satisfied bliss. His lips stretch into that signature Sylus smirk when he catches you staring, nothing short of heart stoppingly arrogant.

He’s so unbelievably handsome, your cunt quivering again just at the sight of him. Wincing at the feeling of his cock inside you stirring back to life at your involuntary throbbing, you panic and tap furiously on his thigh. 

“Sylus, put me down.” 

Sylus chuckles, mischief coloring his scarlet eyes, “What, no ‘please’?”

You whine, not able to withstand the feeling of him stirring back to life in your absolutely spent core. Yet you can feel yourself fluttering in anticipation. And you know he can feel it too. 

You silently curse your traitorous body.

“Please.”

He laughs warmly and obliges. His strong hands grip the underside of your thighs, lifting you off of him. You cry out at the feeling, your cunt clenching at nothing, seeking him once more. Sylus inhales sharply, craving your tight warmth again. But he holds you gently against his chest, shifting so that his erection rests between his abdomen and your thigh, with you sitting sideways on his lap. 

You nuzzle your head into his chest, and Sylus’s lips come down to the top of your head, breathing in your scent and ghosting kisses into your hair. Your hands reach up to weave into his silver tresses, playing with his soft locks and delicately massaging his scalp. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, voice muffled against his skin.

When Sylus doesn’t respond, you pull away from him and look up at him expectantly. He appears to be lost in the feeling of your fingers. 

“You never said please, you could at least say thank you,” you tease, poking his soft cheek with your finger. 

Sylus looks down at you, amused danger flickering in the deep orbs of crimson. His hand leaves your thigh, slowly and tortuously crawling up your skin until he cups your face. You shiver, suddenly feel like you’re staring into the face of danger. 

“Hmm, isn’t it customary to say thank you after eating?” 

You crinkle your brows in confusion at his cryptic words, waiting for him to elaborate further. Sylus’s smug grin widens, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, basking in the excited fear brimming in your bleary eyes. 

“I’ve yet to finish my meal, little dove.” 

© aeyumicore 2024.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

[crispy-armpit]

✧ 𝖒𝖞 𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖑 ✧

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴇᴀ ɢᴏᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𓇼˚₊‧꒰ა 🫧 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚𓇼

⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 10 dollars on a dare leads you to break one superstition that changes your life forever. you begin to learn secrets tied to your family and upbringing, at the cost of your freedom. who is this mysterious Anshumat, and why does he want you?

⭒ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵: 𝘨𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘺, violence, implied stalking, kidnapping, choking, reader gets called a bride once

⭒ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1,418

⭒ a/n: yan sea god was inspired by an Indonesian myth called Nyi Roro Kidul! it's a really interesting legend if you want to learn more abt it ^^ also.... man tits...... meow..

will you venture down this path?

growing up, you would stay over at your grandmother's house every summer. her beautiful seaside cottage made the perfect accommodation for a family getaway. throughout your childhood, the superstitious old woman restricted you from doing specific things. rules like never whistling at night, don't open an umbrella indoors, etc.

you'd eventually found out that these were just scare tactics for children to make them listen. but there was one rule that your grandmother seemed to fear the most, a rule that never made sense... never wear white to the local beach. and when questioning her about the rule, she'd tell you the same story every time.

"long ago...

a cruel serpent god who once ruled these waters would rise from the ocean and into the islands, devouring innocent villagers and destroying temples along its path.

the gods and humans were furious at its actions. fed up with the destruction and death, they prepared a plan to thwart the serpent; a binding curse.

the serpent was cursed to spend its days rotting in a hidden island, where it was accompanied by its servants. it was also tasked with granting blessings to sailors passing through the rocky tides, where it weighed the sins of each individual to seal their fates.

but over the decades... the serpent grew bored and lonely. through a loophole, the serpent found a way to abduct humans. you see.. the serpent loves the colour white and pearls. so much so, it would use its voice, so alluring, to lure the poor victims who happened to wear such things. and once in the water, the serpent would drag the human to its temple where they would become its slave.. or worse...

its spouse."

here you are today, telling the same tale in front of your young niece and nephew. "well, that's one way to get bitches." your nephew, Keona laughs. a scoffing Kehlani adds on, "nah, who would want to marry an overgrown slimy snake?"

"hey now, take that shit to grandma. she just assigned me to be your storyteller," you shrugged. "and this story has a real reasoning behind it, ok?"

"what? sexy sea snake destroying villages?"

"no, it's so that little rascals like you..." you drill both your index fingers onto their foreheads, "are easier to find if you ever get lost at sea."

how did i end up here...

facepalming yourself, you sigh. you were disappointed in yourself. how'd you let those little punks reel you in a dare? where was the self-respect? the dignity? seriously, breaking your grandmother's number 1 rule for what? 10 dollars?

you walk along the shore while wearing a flowy white shirt and neck encased in one of your mother's pearl necklaces. the dare was simple: successfully walk down the shoreline without chickening out and boom— an extra 10 dollars into your wallet.

you'd prove to the twins that you weren't scared of a little bedtime story. buuut just in case you did happen to go missing (for reasons that are totally not hungry sea serpent related), you brought essentials in a bag, left a letter for your family, and are currently being watched by the twins.

laughing at yourself for the paranoia, you nearly reach the edge of the walk until you hear a feminine wail from between the hidden rocks. is someone hurt? the sound was coming from beyond your finishing point so it wouldn't hurt to check, right?

signalling the twins to come over, you bend down to their heights, "listen, it sounds like someone's in trouble past those rocks. so I want you both to go grab the first aid kit and call Officer Holden over, 'kay?" they nod and scamper off into town.

approaching the rocks, you peek in to find a naked... mermaid?! observing her, you notice the torn skin on her iridescent tail and warily walk over to her. "uh... hey? hola? salve? hallo? i'm ah— good human! no... nooooo bad.."

you notice the air seems to smell... sweeter?

the woman looks up at you from the sand with pleading eyes, "please— please help me! my name is Coralie, my master, he—"

"woah, it's ok! you're safe, help is coming. uh, your master? did he do this to you? are you an underwater criminal?!"

a distant melodious voice interrupts you. Coralie's previously pained face now warps into a sinister grin as her wound disappears. she crawls towards you as your vision fogs up and your knees buckle to the soft sand. the song lulls you into a deep sleep, your body now being pulled into the shallow waters.

you awake to the bright rays of sunshine and lungs filling in with fresh air. but the next in your line of sight knocked all the air out of your body again.

the luminous, barely-clothed body of an unknown man sat above you. his 9'7 self relaxed on the marble throne, with 2 pairs of eyes fixated on you. what the fuck is that?

you gawk at him, "holy mother of god..."

i'm not dreaming, am i?

his gaze shifts into amusement, "wrong. we gods do not have mothers. we were created."

"you're a... a god?"

"is it not obvious enough from my appearance? would you like to see another version of me?" the towering deity begins to warp into a feminine body as if it was melting and moulding itself. "is this preferable?" her new voice is flirtatious, genuinely curious.

then, she tries to warp into a third body. the transformation looks more painful than the one prior, it barely shifts halfway into a gruesome beast before returning back to its first body. he huffs while grasping his golden collar, "this... is not my original form. I have been cursed, long ago, to never set foot on human lands. this island is both my kingdom and prison."

you shakily stand up the marble floor, now noticing Coralie standing beside the throne with a pair of legs. slowly processing his words, you piece together the clues from his story and your memories of the abduction. this couldn't be...

"you are.. you're the sea serpent god! I can't believe grandma was right— shit, shit shit—"

he smirks at your panic, "correct. I am Anshumat; shapeshifter deity of the raging tides, granter of safe travels—"

"murderer and enslaver." you complete.

Anshumat roars, "correct again! you're on a strike, dear y/n. though trust me, my servants are treated well."

"..how do you know my name?"

"oh you poor thing, granny never told you? I know everything about you— a name is barely anything."

"told me what?"

"she used to be my cupbearer. until she escaped with that bastard traitor. isn't that right, Coralie?"

she nods, "yes, master."

"please sir, let me leave. my family— they'll search for me! I have a cat at home! I haven't even finished my favourite show.. so please..." you try to list more life goals.

he chuckled, "oh you are so amusing. and why would I do that? we've barely just been engaged, dear."

"what do you mean engaged?"

"I've been watching you since you took your first breath on earth, y/n. so imagine my surprise— to see you wrapped up in my favourite colour, like a pretty bride. you're my sacrifice."

fear tingles your spine, "wait, that was just a dare! i didn't really mean it!"

"doesn't matter. you will be my pearl."

"no! I have a family, a partner—"

"i said... it doesn't fucking matter." he slams his fist against the throne arm, "and you'll be seeing the head of that twat soon enough."

you don't give him a glance before you're turning your back and run down the staircase of the grand temple. careful not to trip, you focus on the flight of stairs, painfully aware of the loud footsteps approaching behind you. it doesn't take a second for Anshumat to pull on the collar of your shirt and slam you onto the staircase.

he sits atop you, lower region heavily grinding against your stomach. "get off me! don't you have hundreds of other options?! why me?!" you scream.

his bedazzled skin blocks your view of the sun, furious eyes glowing under his shadow, and sharp teeth bared into a snarl. "you do not get to leave me again. you will stay, and worship me. this island will be our eternal paradise."

large hands pressing against your throat, you struggle before darkness begins to cloud your vision.

"this time, you will live."

[delicious-in-imagines]

Nsfw headcannons for Laios, Mithrun and Kabru??? 👀👀

I love them very much 😁 (I'm soooo normal for them, so so so normal)

*rubs my grubby lil hands together* :)))

NSFW below the cut, as per usual! Spoilers for Mithrun!

Requests are still OPEN!

Laios Touden

You have the full authority to bully this man - I promise you that he enjoys it. He wants to be so good for you, sitting on his legs as he looks up at you, awaiting each and every instruction. For him, it's all about fulfilling your desires and wishes, anything you ask of him, you don't need to repeat yourself.

Grope and grasp at his body, that little bit of extra padding that he has, and feel free to add some stinging remarks to the fondling. His chest is especially sensitive, Laios letting out the cutest little gasps as you take a handful each and squeeze. That adorable blush of his will paint across his skin and up his neck, even to the tips of his ears as you coo and sneer at him in equal measure.

He loves to have you on top of him, riding him into the earth as he holds at your waist like a lifeline. He'll babble out whatever he's thinking, usually interrupting himself while he's gasping about how beautiful/handsome you are on top of him, how thankful he is to have you in his life.

We all saw the way he ties ropes, but this man is no rigger - he's a bunny through and through. He'll teach you each and every knot that he knows, showing where to place them on his body while he can barely contain his excitement as each line grows taut. Eventually, he's wrapped up for you like a pretty little package, blushing and already fixing to burst at the seams.

He's usually starving after sex, so grabbing a bite is definitely part of his aftercare. He'll offer you up some food as well, lingering by your side and enjoying the warmth of your bodies, and the feeling of your fingers carding through his hair. He's always got this dopey smile on his face after the deed, something that lingers even while he conks out afterwards.

Kabru of Utaya

Kabru is a 'try anything once' sort of guy, so if you come up to him asking to try something new in the bedroom, he's not going to shoot you down. There are some things that he might need some coaxing on, especially if it involves inflicting pain on you - though he is conscious of the fact that he won't know his limits until he pushes against them, at least a little.

He loves to have his hands bound under him, the slight burn in his shoulders and the grating from trying to 'struggle' his way out of his bindings. It leaves him at your mercy, looking up at you with those bright blue eyes as you take your fill of him, knowing that he's 'powerless' to stop your roaming hands and teasing mouth.

The trust between you is a turn on to him all on its own. Knowing that at any given point, he could say the word and you would stop without any hesitation is part of the thrill. It's the safety within those walls that gives you both the freedom to explore your desires - and knowing you're enjoying yourself is intoxicating in its own right.

When he's alone, or sometimes if you're interested, he'll engage in orgasm denial, squeezing the base of his length, or using a snug ring to stop his pleasure in its tracks. You can keep this up until he's weeping from both his eyes and his arousal, paired with the previously mentioned bindings, he'll be begging for release which only you can provide - if you're feeling merciful.

A bath after your activities is a must, not only to wipe away any sweat and fluids, but also to just enjoy some casual nudity and each other's presence. He'll pay extra attention to any marks that he's made, rubbing gently against them while you talk about what went well, things to try next time, etc., ...

Mithrun of the House of Kerensil

The easiest way to work Mithrun up intentionally is to clamber into his lap, draping your arms around his neck and drawing him close. After a display like that, you're not getting away from him. If you try to pull away he'll settle his hands on your hips and grip you closer. It's only after some heated frottage or Mithrun sparing a moment to teleport whatever offending articles of clothing away to get to both your arousals that he'll finally let you go.

Any undue attention towards you from anyone is another quick way to get him riled up. He'll grab your wrist to tug you away, sometimes sending the offender outside of the walls, before pinning you to a nearby wall with barely any semblance of privacy to have his wicked way with you. He'll press teeth and open-mouthed kisses to the length of your neck, his actions speaking where his lips would not.

An easy way to turn the tables on him is to speak so sweetly to him, calling him handsome, cooing at him and complimenting him. It knocks him off balance, and it's the perfect chance to get him on bottom. Lavishing his body in reverent touches and kisses, he turns into a mess, and will often bring a hand up to try and hide his face.

The two of you have a fair collection of toys - though usually it's to use on him. Part of his newfound desires is the exploration and deepening of those, and the more that you can potentially overwhelm him during those intimate moments, the better. Little enchanted trinkets that with a tiny bit of mana can vibrate, or some select pieces that Fleki or Lycion suggested to the pair of you embarrassingly enough, the potential is endless.

All of the aftercare will fall to you. Making sure that he eats something light and rehydrates, knowing that you'll both probably need to rest pretty soon after. On some rare occasions though, he'll still your hand and check you over, rubbing and pressing kisses to some of the harsh marks that he's left behind - his favorite reminders that you choose to stay with him, that he's your first pick, even if you could have anyone else.

[monamipencil]

asking svt if you can tie a bow on ‘it’ | 96 line

genre; nsfw, cockette, mdni <3 | a/n; need wonwoo to head lock me. i love woozi and anyone who doesn't is weird. lola in her woozidan era <33 | check out 95z, 97z, maknaez!

— jun

congrats, you've managed to weird out the jun. he's weirded out by the idea, per se. not you though, he just finds you adorably weird. but he's down to the idea, infact he's more excited than you (it grew on him). bugging you about what kind of ribbon you're going, what colour, silk or satin, etc etc. you know that he's just curious but he keeps interrupting the mood, forcing you to do what you do. tying him up and gagging him. with the same ribbons that sat on his cock, prettily now. and he's fucking enjoying it. he's strong enough to tear apart the material, binding his hands to the bed post but he doesn't. instead, he whimpers and tremble as you use a vibrator on his tip :)

— soonyoung

so down for the idea. took some time processing when you asked him though. he even shaves completely cause you said you wanted pics as well. and he's trying so hard not to cum right away. your soft touches, and the feeling of the soft ribbon tied around his cock is way too much for his sensory system. but he accidentally worries you because he looks like he's being held hostage as you're taking the pics. he tries to relax, but the moment he does, you wrap your lips around his tip, clicking another pic. then, he breaks. cumming right on your face. hurriedly apologizes and dies a bit on the inside, but makes up for it by blowing your back out <3

— wonwoo

tries so hard to suppress his smile when you ask him. so damn proud of himself (and his buddy, down there). but he wants to tie ribbons on you as well, to which you agree. you drool at the sight of his pretty pink tip fading into the pale pink of the ribbon (you couldn't resist and tied one around his biceps as well). he rubs the tip on your lower lip, the salty precum coating your lips. but before things could go further, he makes you lay down on the bed. you watch as he ties the ribbon on your thighs and one surrounding both your breasts as well. he takes pics of you two. one with you on his lap, one with him teething the ribbon on your breasts and thighs, one with your pretty lips wrapped around his tip, one with his head between your thighs, and one with him head locking you (specifically under your request). saving them on a separate folder on his phone.

— woozi

he already agreed to you tying a bow on his biceps and his hair. he didn't mind it and found it low-key cute. but now you wanna tie one on his cock? stares at you for solid 5 seconds before breaking out into a blush. he gets so red, thinking about it. he's not excited about the idea. it's just, do you love him that much to want to tie a bow on his cock? (or are you just perverted? both.) agrees eventually, if you're happy, he's happy too. and you almost become obsessed with how the pretty red (“shit, this is red too”) bow looks on his hard, prettier cock. it takes everything in you to not just take him in your mouth and give him the best head possible. which you did actually. and you know this won't be the last time you tie a bow on his cock.

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy @jespecially (send an ask to be added on the taglist!)

[3rachaslut]

DOM HYUNJIN X F READER

minors DO NOT INTERACT!!!

cw! ; domhyunjin! subreader, knife play, sir kink, degradation and praise, choking, reader is tied up, a cheeky pussy slap, pet names (slut etc) fluff at the end if you SQUINT

“Oh angel, don’t cry” Hyunjin cooed as he trailed his hands down the entirety of your laying figure underneath him with a devilish smirk on his face. “It’s your fault that you’re in this situation my love. You’re the one who made yourself come whilst I was away and now you will have to deal with the consequences”. Hyunjin’s tormenting words ring in your head and you subconsciously lift your body up towards him.

“I’m sorry!” you huff out, yanking in aggravation at the ropes on either side of you, binding you to the bed. Hyunjin narrows his eyebrows, pouting his lip in faux pity of your pathetic attempt at escaping.

“Thrash all you like my love.” he chuckles. “You.. are not going…” he leans in towards your face, tantalising close, “anywhere”. The whisper of his last word causing goosebumps to form all over your naked body and your breath hitches. As his hand finds your neck, you instinctively let out a moan. Hyunjin slowly applies pressure to either side of your throat, and you roll your eyes back, embracing the feeling that comes along with it; floating. Your head is soon pushed upwards roughly, allowing Hyunjin further access to your exposed neck. He wastes no time to kiss over your most sensitive spot that he is too accustomed to.

“H- hyune” you breathe out in jagged breaths as he begins to suck red marks on your neck, claiming you as his own. The feeling of his breathing on your skin, so close to your ears, sends shivers down your back.

“What’s wrong pretty girl?” he cocks his head to the side in a condescending manner and it drives you insane. You can only whine in response. Begging for any type of stimulation, you lift yourself off the bed in an attempt to brush his leg against your pussy, albeit failing as he backs away just to torment you even more. Hyunjin lets out a daring huff and you close your eyes to avoid his threatening gaze. He chuckles menacingly.

“Naughty girl” he says playfully, emphasising his last word with a swift slap to your left cheek.“I thought…” You hear the sound of the draw to the nightstand opening next to your head. “I’d trained you to be an obedient girl for me?…” Too scared to look at him, you tilt your head away, scrunching your eyes in anticipation. “But…” You feel something sharp tap underneath your jaw and your breathing halts. “You’re still just a desperate little slut aren’t you? hm?” He whispers in your ear which sends chills down your spine. Hyunjin shakes his head at you and tuts, smiling slyly and uses the tip of the blade to turn your head to face him. “What’s wrong princess?”

Just the sight of the pure fear in your eyes has Hyunjin’s cock throbbing and he grazes the blade along your throat. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding and you dare to look into his eyes. A look of faux sympathy is plastered on his face and your your body betrays you, feeling your pussy slowly getting wet. You whine at his dominant tone and he smirks as he realises he’s got you right where he wants you. “Words, baby girl” He says, but all your mind allows you to do is whine in desperation as he proceeds to run the knife along the length of your body, landing on your thigh.

“Y-yes sir” you huff through jagged breaths and your eyes roll back in your head, causing a smirk to tug at the side of Hyunjin’s mouth. Leaning down towards your marked neck, Hyunjin swiftly hooks the blade underneath the waistband of your panties, ripping through the fabric in one swoop and you gasp in shock, your cunt getting wetter from the act. Hyunjin chuckes down your ear and goes back to marking your neck as he does the same to the other side, your bare pussy now exposed to him. As he lifts himself off of you, his eyes fill with hunger at the site of your now fully bare figure, so submissive underneath him. Taking in all of you, he lets out a sigh in awe of your body.

“You’re so beautiful baby..” he comments, now proceeding to run the knife slowly towards your cunt. “Aren’t you?” his eyes bore into yours.

“Y-es” you reply, your voice wavering. Suddenly, you feel a sharp, piercing pain on your clit that sent jolts of pain through you. “Yes sir!” you corrected yourself quickly and Hyunjin hums in approval. Adjusting his position on top of you, he proceeds to put your thighs over his own and pushes them towards your chest. The blade, once again, finds your throat and your eyes lock onto his right above you.

“Gonna fuck now baby girl” he says softly down your ear and you nod in acceptance and desperation. You have never been more aroused than you are right now. You NEEDED Hyunjin more than you needed air and the threat of the knife against your throat only made the ache in your cunt 100 times worse for him. He slid into you slowly and your head falls back into the pillow, his thrusts slowly speeding up as you wrap tighter around him. The moans you were letting out were only making him rut into you harder and he whimpers in pleasure down your ear all the while telling you how “beautiful” you are and how “good” you’re being for him.

“My gorgeous angel, taking me so- fuck- well. I’m so proud of you baby” Hyunjin praised through huffed breathes and the only thought in your vacant head right now is the only response you can give.

“Yours, yours, yours” you whine out over and over again after each thrust into you. Hyunjin releases the knife from your throat and throws is to the ground at the side of the bed. Quickly, he grabs either side of your face with each of his hands and tilts your head to look into your eyes. Your faces are now only millimetres apart and both you and Hyunjin were suckers for eye contact during sex. His thrusts become more and more erratic and you knew he was close to cumming. You smile at him and that’s all he needed to push him over the edge.

Coming down from his high, he greeted your swollen lips with a longing kiss, delicately and passionately.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin whispers to you with a slightly worried look on his face. “That was amazing” you reply, gasping for breath as your heart rate attempts to return to normal. He smiles in relief and plants a peck on your lips.

“I love you darling”

“I love you too”

[hyperfixationsruleme]

Fanon Drarry is so amazing to me because I wanted them to be together romantically but whatever exists of CANON DRARRY is just so important to me that it's crazy!??!!

Like Draco Malfoy is the very first (other than Hagrid but thats a specific situation where someone had to bring him in) wizard Harry meets when he is introduced to the magical world. His very first peer. It was literally fate, like hello?

‘Hullo,’ said the boy, ‘Hogwarts too?’

‘Yes,’ said Harry." :(((((

Dobby was literally a Harry Potter Wikipedia page from how much, it can be justifiably inferred, Draco spoke about Harry constantly.

Simply the amount of effort that Draco put towards getting Harry's attention. Going to shake his hand, waiting around every corner to tease him, making enchanted badges to rile him up, etc.

Draco choosing to not give up Harry's identity in Malfoy Manor.

Harry saving Draco's life in the room of requirement.

Draco, while being wandless, screaming at Crabbe and Goyle to not kill Harry in the room of requirement.

The amount of times Harry describes Draco's glittering eyes and white blonde hair:)

Harry obstructing and blurring the fact that Draco was involved with Dumbledore's death on the Astronomy Tower

The way Harry constantly clocks whether Draco is the room immediately, whether it be during an exam, Quidditch, the Courtyard.

Harry stunning the death eater threatening Draco during the Battle of Howarts, even though Draco is literally telling the death eater that he is on his side.

Harry using Draco's wand in Deathly Hallows.

I'm not saying it was always positive because they were strong rivals and it was often negative, but you cannot deny that the obsession was there. They were, since Harry's very first hour in the Wizarding World, tied together by some force. I just choose to see it as some kind of string that binds them together, and that maybe, in another universe, those undeniably strong feelings are nurtured into love.

[valrayne-faeu]

we have gotten a few asks about the “rules” for making a sona or OC in the faeu, so if you’re someone that likes to be “canon-compliant” or have a set of rules to follow when making an OC, here they are! (feel free to not follow them if you don’t want to, you’re welcome to use your imagination)

Dream and Nightmare are the oldest current living fae in the Seasonal Realms at 1500 years old, older fae either left or died during the war

there are no hybrid fae (spring/autumn, summer/winter, etc). the Spring-Summer and Autumn-Winter magics are like oil and water and cannot mix. a fae has the magic of whatever realm they were born into, and a human that becomes fae will have the magic of whatever realm they were tricked in.

Spring-Summer fae can’t travel to Autumn-Winter (and vice versa) without protections or the blessing of the king of where they’re travelling. fae will fall very ill from the conflicting magic after spending even an hour across the border (Summer fae will have a cold and Winter fae will have a fever).

it is possible to convert to another realm, but it is a process and you have to be blessed by the king of the realm you’re switching to in a ceremony. however, if you convert to Spring-Summer and then change your mind and want to return to Autumn-Winter, Nightmare will refuse to let you return. so choose wisely. Dream is more lenient—if you convert to Autumn-Winter and then want to return to Spring-Summer, Dream will welcome you back.

there are certain physical traits associated with each court—

Summer/Spring Court - Antlers. Wings: Butterfly, Dragonfly, Bee, Praying Mantis, Wasp, Fly

Winter/Autumn Court - Horns. Wings: Moth, Beetle, Cicada, Grasshopper, Firefly, Cockroach

there are fae that aren’t based on insects! fae that are bird-like, have traits of dragons or unicorns, things like that. feel free to get creative with it ^^

fae can’t lie, it makes them physically ill. it’s not worth it to try. you can trade a human for the ability to lie, however only one fae has managed to do so. most fae don’t think it’s a skill they need, and the ability to manipulate words and dancing around the truth is a highly valued skill. fae culture loves wordplay. humans that are becoming fae will find telling lies makes them more and more ill until they’re dissuaded from it.

there are realms beyond the faewildes, and other kingdoms of fae with different magics. it is possible to travel from one to another through the wildes but it is dangerous. the faewildes do not have a ruler as wild magic doesn’t like to be tamed, but there are fae that survive out there (Error is one example).

in the fae realms there are some fae known as “Aspects”. fae that went through a lot of complicated, life-altering, incredibly influential experiences that were entirely concentrated around a singular concept of some kind. it changes them fundamentally as a person, concentrating their magic on that concept until they are tied to it intrinsically and it is as much a part of them as they are a part of it. events on the level of Frisk surviving a beam from Asriel as the god of hyperdeath at 0.0000001 HP through sheer Determination, or all the things that made Sans into Geno and then ultimately into Error. they become that thing personified. Aspects are incredibly powerful and exceedingly rare, and it’s a very big deal for one to happen. notable Aspects are Dream (Positivity), Nightmare (Negativity), Error (Chaos), and Ink (Inspiration).

a lot of the faeu is based on Celtic folklore—there are many interesting concepts and creatures to read about and pull inspiration from. i recommend reading up on the Tuatha Dé Danann and Aos Sí!

all fae can make magically-binding deals, even humans that just got tricked into staying in the fae realms that haven’t turned fae yet. magically-binding deals are usually limited to things that you can actually complete, such as trading something you own/have or doing some kind of service. with study and training it is possible to strengthen your magic and give intangible things such as a boon/luck/etc. the more tied you are to the magic of the realm the more powerful you are and the more complex of a deal you can make. it takes lots of study to reach this level.

[blusherbaker]

TWST Kink Headcanons: Octavinelle Edition

Minors/ageless blogs DNI; all characters are 18+ for these scenarios

Each character is given a short write-up of one of their main kinks, as well as a list of other kinks they may like (with a little more info added in some cases), and a list of things they would dislike.

Warnings: Smut, discussion/mention of multiple kinks of different varieties, including those related to D/s dynamics, bondage, feeding, etc.

<——« Savanaclaw

Azul: Voice kink

It doesn't really matter what your voice sounds like, Azul will absolutely melt simply by hearing your voice (or vocalizations) in the right context. Whether your voice is deep and gravelly, high and light, smooth, lilting, nasally, brassy, breathy, or any other colour / timbre, he will love it. And should you want to make Azul's hearts really race, just adding the slightest layer of a seductive tone to your speech will definitely do the trick.  It's also a good idea to talk to him - at length - while you're intimate with him. Hearing your voice will in equal parts calm him down, get him out of his head and into the moment, and make him very turned-on, especially if you add in even a little bit of dirty talk. Tell him what you want to do to him, or want him to do to you. Let him hear what you feel. And if a few little moans, or sighs, or whimpers happen to make appearances between your words, his arousal will simply go into overdrive. 

Other possible kinks: 

Submission

Domination (sometimes - like Riddle, he's a sub-leaning switch)

Bondage 

Cockwarming?

Lingerie

Dislikes: 

Degradation

Humiliation

Exhibitionism

Mirror sex

Jade: Shibari (and other types of bondage)

Jade appreciates so many things about the art of shibari. The trust, the power, the creativity, and the interplay, with you and him doing a sort of dance, are all things he would find appealing. He would love moulding your body into beautiful shapes ornamented and restrained with ropes (or perhaps ribbons, with the less restrictive binds) and watching your reactions during the entire process. And he loves the controlled unpredictability of it all. Each tie is never the exact same twice - changing even the littlest things, from the speed, to the tension of the rope, results in a completely novel experience each time. That is one of Jade’s favourite parts of shibari. Jade is also a patient man. He takes his time. And he will definitely want to do many, many different ties each and every session. Jade also makes sure things are absolutely perfect, in every aspect - he will have learned and practised the knots and ties before even considering bringing up the idea to you. Each session, he will have an entire routine planned out, his hands moving you smoothly from one position to the next, knotting then undoing the ropes over your body, likely for hours. But don't worry, he will make sure to take care of all your desires as well, you only need to ask him to. Jade will keep you waiting in anticipation, but he will never leave you unsatisfied.

Other possible kinks: 

Stuffing (mostly receiving)

Sadomasochism (he’s more of a sadist than a masochist, though)

Orgasm control

Marking

Dacryphilia

Dislikes: 

Exhibitionism?

Submission (most of the time)

Floyd: Sensation play

Floyd's kinks often shift and change, so you can be certain you'd never simply fall into a routine with him. He's always wanting to try something new, being a bit of an experimentalist at heart, but one thing that stays consistent in one form or another is his love of sensation play. Everything from gentle massages, to the sting of a paddle, to playing different genres of music, to feeding each other different combinations of flavours, to even using various types of lighting, Floyd has so much fun playing with his (and your) senses. Sometimes, the sensations get almost overwhelming, but often, that’s exactly what Floyd needs.  However, despite liking most types of sensation play, his absolute favourite thing is playing with temperatures. And while the heat of things like dripping wax is something that Floyd really, really enjoys, his preference is definitely the cold. He almost always loves the sensation of ice gliding over his warm skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps over his body, and making him shiver as the water slowly evaporates (and he'd adore the feeling of a chilled glass toy cooling him from the inside out, too ♥︎). The cold feels both exciting and comforting to him, and is something that - to Floyd - just overall feels good. 

Other possible kinks: 

Exhibitionism

Feedism

Marking

Sadomasochism (he’s a little bit more of a masochist than a sadist)

Sounding

Lactation

Wax play

Dislikes: 

Bondage (being restrained, specifically)

Other than that, he’s pretty open to trying most things, though he may or may not like them at different times

And with that, my headcanons for the Octavinelle boys' kinks are complete! These three are some of my favourites, and I really had a good time putting this together. It took a bit longer to get out than I thought, but I hope you enjoyed reading through my ideas ^v^

If you have any additional thoughts or opinions on these headcanons, I'd love to hear them!

[oinonsana]

Tactical Combat, Violence Dice and Missing Your Attacks in Gubat Banwa

In this post I talk about game feel and decision points when it comes to the "To-Hit Roll" and the "Damage Roll" in relation to Gubat Banwa's design, the Violence Die.

Let's lay down some groundwork: this post assumes that the reader is familiar and has played with the D&D style of wargame combat common nowadays in TTRPGs, brought about no doubt by the market dominance of a game like D&D. It situates its arguments within that context, because much of new-school design makes these things mostly non-problems. (See: the paradigmatic shift required to play a Powered by the Apocalypse game, that completely changes how combat mechanics are interpreted).

With that done, let's specify even more: D&D 5e and 4e are the forerunners of this kind of game--the tactical grid game that prefers a battlemat. 5e's absolute dominance means that there's a 90% chance that you have played the kind of combat I'll be referring to in this post. The one where you roll a d20, add the relevant modifiers, and try to roll equal to or higher than a Target Number to actually hit. Then when you do hit, you roll dice to deal damage. This has been the way of things since OD&D, and has been a staple of many TTRPG combat systems. It's easy to grasp, and has behemoth cultural momentum. Each 1 on a d20 is a 5% chance, so you can essentially do a d100 with smaller increments and thus easier math (smaller numbers are easier to math than larger numbers, generally).

This is how LANCER works, this is how ICON works, this is how SHADOW OF THE DEMON LORD works, this is how TRESPASSER works, this is how WYRDWOOD WAND works, this is how VALIANT QUEST works, etc. etc. It's a tried and true formula, every D&D player has a d20, it's emblematic of the hobby.

There's been a lot more critical discussion lately on D&D's conventions, especially due to the OGL. Many past D&D only people are branching out of the bubble and into the rest of the TTRPG hobby. It's not a new phenomenon--it's happened before. Back in the 2010s, when Apocalypse World came out while D&D was in its 4th Edition, grappling with Pathfinder. Grappling with its stringent GSL License (funny how circular this all is).

Anyway, all of that is just to put in the groundwork. My problem with D&D Violence (particularly, of the 3e, 4e, and 5e version) is that it's a violence that arises from "default fantasy". Default Fantasy is what comes to mind when you say fantasy: dragons, kings, medieval castles, knights, goblins, trolls. It's that fantasy cultivated by people who's played D&D and thus informs D&D. There is much to be said about the majority of this being an American Samsaric Cycle, and it being tied to the greater commodification agenda of Capitalism, but we won't go into that right now. Anyway, D&D Violence is boring. It thinks of fights in HITS and MISSES and DAMAGE PER SECOND.

A Difference Of Paradigm and Philosophies

I believe this is because it stems from D&D still having one foot in the "grungy dungeon crawler" genre it wants to be and the "combat encounter balance MMO" it also wants to be. What ends up happening is that players play it like an immersive sim, finding ways to "cheese" encounters with spells, instead of interacting with the game as the fiction intended. This is exemplified in something like Baldur's Gate 3 for example: a lot of the strats that people love about it includes cheesing, shooting things before they have the chance to react, instead of doing an in-fiction brawl or fight to the death. It's a pragmatist way of approaching the game, and the mechanics of the game kind of reinforce it. People enjoy that approach, so that's good. I don't. Wuxia and Asian Martial Dramas aren't like that, for the most part.

It must be said that this is my paradigm: that the rules and mechanics of the game is what makes the fiction (that shared collective imagination that binds us, penetrates us) arise. A fiction that arises from a set of mechanics is dependent on those mechanics. There is no fiction that arises independently. This is why I commonly say that the mechanics are the narrative. Even if you try to play a game that completely ignores the rules--as is the case in many OSR games where rules elide--your fiction is still arising from shared cultural tropes, shared ideas, shared interests and consumed media.

So for Gubat Banwa, the philosophy was this: when you spend a resource, something happens. This changes the entire battle state--thus changing the mechanics, thus changing the fiction. In a tactical game, very often, the mechanics are the fiction, barring the moments that you or your Umalagad (or both of you!) have honed creativity enough to take advantage of the fiction without mechanical crutches (ie., trying to justify that cold soup on the table can douse the flames on your Kadungganan if he runs across the table).

The other philosophy was this: we're designing fights that feel like kinetic high flying exchanges between fabled heroes and dirty fighters. In these genres, in these fictions, there was no "he attacked thrice, and one of these attacks missed". Every attack was a move forward.

So Gubat Banwa removed itself from the To-Hit/Damage roll dichotomy. It sought to put itself outside of that paradigm, use game conventions and cultural rituals that exist outside of the current West-dominated space. For combat, I looked to Japanese RPGs for mechanical inspiration: in FINAL FANTASY TACTICS and TACTICS OGRE, missing was rare, and when you did miss it was because you didn't take advantage of your battlefield positioning or was using a kind of weapon that didn't work well against the target's armor. It existed as a fail state to encourage positioning and movement. In wuxia and silat films, fighters are constantly running across the environment and battlefield, trying to find good positioning so that they're not overwhelmed or so that they could have a hand up against the target.

The Violence Die: the Visceral Attacking Roll

Gubat Banwa has THE VIOLENCE DIE: this is the initial die or dice that you roll as part of a specific offensive technique.

In the above example, the Inflict Violence that belongs to the HEAVENSPEAR Discipline, the d8 is the Violence Die. When you roll this die, it can be modified by effects that affect the Violence Die specifically. This becomes an accuracy effect: the more accurate your attack, the more damage you deal against your target's Posture. Mas asintado, mas mapinsala.

You compare your Violence Die roll to your target's EVADE [EVD]. If you rolled equal to or lower than the target's EVD, they avoid that attack completely. There: we keep the tacticality of having to make sure your attack doesn't miss, but also EVD values are very low: often they're just 1, or 2. 4 is very often the highest it can go, and that's with significant investment.

If you rolled higher than that? Then you ignore EVD completely. If you rolled a 3 and the target's EVD was 2, then you deal 3 DMG + relevant modifiers to the DMG. When I wrote this, I had no conception of "removing the To-Hit Roll" or "Just rolling Damage Dice". To me this was the ATTACK, and all attacks wore down your target's capacity to defend themselves until they're completely open to a significant wound. In most fights, a single wound is more than enough to spell certain doom and put you out of the fight, which is the most important distinction here.

In the Thundering Spear example, that targets PARRY [PAR], representing it being blocked by physical means of acuity and quickness. Any damage brought about by the attack is directly reduced by the target's PAR. A means for the target to stay in the fight, actively defending.

But if the attack isn't outright EVADED, then they still suffer its effects. So the target of a Thundering Spear might have reduced the damage of an attack to just 1 (1 is minimum damage), they would still be thrown up to 3 tiles away. It matches that sort of, anime combat thing: they strike Goku, but Goku is still flung back. The game keeps going, the fight keeps going.

On Mechanical Weight

When you miss, the mechanical complexity immediately stops--if you miss, you don't do anything else. Move on. To the next Beat, the next Riff, the next Resound, think about where you could go to better your chances next time.

Otherwise, the attack's other parts are a lot more mechanically involved. If you don't miss: roll add your Attacking Prowess, add extra dice from buffs, roll an extra amount of dice representing battlefield positioning or perhaps other attacks you make, apply the effects of your attack, the statuses connected to your attack. It keeps going, and missing is rare, especially once you've learned the systematic intricacies of Gubat Banwa's THUNDERING TACTICS BATTLE SYSTEM.

So there was a lot of setup in the beginning of this post just to sort of contextualize what I was trying to say here. Gubat Banwa inherently arises from those traditions--as a 4e fan, I would be remiss to ignore that. However, the conclusion I wanted to come up to here is the fact that Gubat Banwa tries to step outside of the many conventions of that design due to that design inherently servicing the deliverance of a specific kind of combat fiction, one that isn't 100% conducive to the constantly exchanging attacks that Gubat Banwa tries to make arise in the imagination.

[moronkombat]

Idk if you’ve done this before but can you do nsfw alphabet for Kenshi?🙏

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Very affectionate, tender and caring with his partner after sex. Toned arms will wrap around you, holding you close while he kisses the top of your head. Once he has a comforting hold over you, do not expect to be getting up any time soon. Kenshi's aftercare is a very cuddly experience

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Kenshi favorite part of himself are his hand. Fingers are slender and long. Ink patterns cover the entirety of it making it feel leathery but smooth. Though the tattoos were gained during his time with the Yakuza, he still marvels at just how delicate his hands look. They do not look like the hands of a killer or someone seeking vengeance. His hands are that of a pianist or someone who plays the violin. Perhaps in another lifetime he would be such an artist

With his sight lost to him, he mourns the entire visage of you. He uses his hands to feel you and etch out your features. His favorite place to trace is your face. The curve of you nose, the dip of your cheek, he loves being able to trace them over your skin

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Has no strong preference in terms of where he finishes. If he's looking for a mess then he'll cum on your stomach or ass. If he's wanting to be more romantic then he'll cum inside you

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Kenshi's dirty secret is he almost wishes you'd tie him up or bind him to the bed. Typically you're the one tied up but he's always been curious how to feels but has not yet brought that up to you. He wants you to play with him, tease and taunt him so that he can break free of those bindings and punish you

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Kenshi had experience under his belt and knows what he is doing. He's had relationships in the past, both casual and long term so he knows his way around the bedroom. If he had a partner who wasn't experienced he would guide them

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

There many different positions Kenshi is partial too but he has two favorites. When you ride him and taking you from behind. Your hips grind and swirl against him and he groans. The sense of touch so heightened that he feels this ecstasy within his bones. Moaning whispers travel straight through his ears and to Kenshi your breathless wisp a booming thunder

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It can be a mix during sex. He can be very serious and concentrated. However, he also likes seeing your face twist and squirm when he plays a bit too much. Your reactions make him want to play with you more and more

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Kenshi is groomed but not shaven. He prefers it neat and tidy and will frequently trim it to keep it at an acceptable. Also has a bit of chest hair that he forgets to shave at times

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Intimacy and romance are one in the same for Kenshi. He expresses his love for you not only verbally but with his action. Really enjoys taking you out to eat somewhere nice and bringing you to impressive sights even if he cannot experience them to the fullest. Spending time with you is very important

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does but it's not as enjoyable as having sex with you. Therefore, he does it rarely, maybe every other week or so. Will typically masturbate to thoughts and pictures of his partner when he is away from them

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bondage and Restraints- Kenshi enjoys bondage because he loves your reactions . You make such pitiful whining noises when his hands roam you but you unable to touch him. You shutter under him as his tongue travels down your naval and you begin to writhe so beautifully. You are so exposed to him and he will consume all of you

Biting and Scratching- This is something he likes both ways. He likes when you dig your nails into his back. It truly makes him feel alive. At the same time he also loves leaving little love bites as small reminders of your bedroom tango

Discipline and Punishment- Just the idea of this is pure sex to Kenshi. He likes when you're naughty and misbehave so he can punish you. He's never too intense with it and doesn't leave bruises. His punishment is more teasing you for awhile, leaving you wanting him to touch you more but denying you this

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Prefers the bedroom because it feels much more private. He'll also light candles or dim the lights to create a more sensual feel

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He is turned on by your body and your words of affection. Simon is motivated by your words and affection. He also quite likes when you misbehave. He acts annoyed by it but he loves it. He loves when you're a bit mischievous with him so that way he can make it up to you later

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

While he enjoys your teasing, he does not like when it is constant or when his partner is unaffectionate. He likes a partner who can be lighthearted and funny but also caring and sensitive to his softer side

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Kenshi rather likes receiving oral over giving it. Not to say he won't, he will. But there is just something so devious with her head between his legs, mouth so stuffed full that Kenshi simply cannot go without

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He knows how to be slowly sensual and rough as an animal. The choice is heavily what his partner is seeking. His preference is a mix between the two. Something that can be ruthless one moment and then tender the next. Best of both worlds according to him

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Kenshi is a fan of quickies. He sees it as an exciting addition to sex and a way of letting off steam quickly. He doesn't engage in them frequently but will do so spontaneously to spice things up

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Definitely willing to experiment because he likes when it's fresh and exciting. Won't do anything that will cause himself or his partner too much pain and discomfort as that is something he is not interested in

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Typically can go for about 2-3 rounds. He doesn't necessarily become exhausted but prefers to engage in some tender aftercare with his partner instead of continuing to go multiple rounds

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He has them and will use them on his partner if he finds himself in the mood for it. He'll typically have a few on standby and prepared for his partner

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Incredibly unfair and teasing. He will take his time tormenting you and sending so close to the edge of oblivion. He will let you finish eventually but not after having his fill of you

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

All of his senses much more reactive so what may seem so simple to someone else, can be earth shattering to Kenshi. This often leads him being very vocal in bed. He will try to keep them at bay but his partner feels too excellent around him. He'll moan and whimper, often right into your ear as he pulls you close to him. Kenshi, when in the right moment, finds dirty talk rather appealing. There's just something about taking you from behind that makes his mind twist. He'll call you names, vile and wretched names that have your gut coiling and flexing within itself

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Something he would like to try in the bedroom is some role play. Nothing too intense but something light and fun to change things up a bit

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Kenshi is a grower and has more length then he does width. Exceptionally sensitive when touched and caressed, especially the underside

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Above average sex drive. Nothing too demanding but enjoys the company of his partner multiple times throughout the week

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

While he isn't tired, he does enjoy cuddling with his partner after sex and falling asleep with them. He holds his partner tight and tells them sweet words before falling asleep

[pinkmirth]

I want to dom richter so badly 🥺 just imagine how cute he'd look, gorgeous baby blue eyes blown wide with lust and gazing up at you dazedly while a pretty pink blush dusts his cheeks as you ride him. His face, lips, neck, and chest completely covered in kiss marks in your favorite shade of lipstick. All the while, his wrists are snugly tied together with his white headband giving you full rein to his pleasure.

⸻ 𝒮𝒰𝒞𝒞𝒰ℳℬ!

𝑀𝒴 𝐿𝒪𝒱ℰ-𝒩𝒪𝒯ℰ! 𝜗𝜚 ₊ ⊹ oh nonnie, how i love your gorgeous mind! subby richie is now everything to me. and using the headband?! oh my fucking god . . . now that’s just icing on the cake >.< m’gonna faint and i need richter to catch me. thanks so much for sending in your thoughts! now, please enjoy this teensy tiny drabble for my favorite belmont boy ❤︎

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒮 𝜗𝜚 ₊ ⊹ ( 1k+ words of . . . ) richter belmont x fem!reader (black coded), dom!reader, sub!richter, cowgirl position, bondage (via headband ooh!), edging, use of petnames (e.g. love, baby, rich, etc.) reader tells rich to ‘shut up,’ explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!

richter finds himself quite stuck.

the purest shade of angel-white is what binds him, in the form of a thin strip of ribbon-like fabric. you’d slipped his headband clean off, smiling naughtily as you did so, and created makeshift ‘cuffs’ out of the cloth. it’s drawn together securely around his wrists like a tidy little bow, keeping him right where he ought to be— underneath you. 

your lover looks so good this way, so pliant; laid to the mattress, basking in the way you ride him. those glittering eyes of his, a bright ocean blue, have a thick wave of lust clouded over them. his cheeks are blooming the prettiest shade of blush-pink, and it runs across the bridge of his nose to tint the ends of his ears. richter’s chocolate brown hair has gone completely astray, even more so when you thread your fingers through the curls to pull, tug, yank. the best part of all, he's got his plush lips open wide with the pleading call of your name falling past it. 

you’re sat atop richter’s spent body, thighs enclosing him on either side. then, your hips begin to swivel; back, forth, back, and forth all over again. your ass, fleshy and round, jiggles with every movement after another, clapping down on the swell of his balls. you shift in the slightest, and he shudders. oh, do you love the thrill of utter control. it’s fun, watching him crumble and whine whenever you go a little faster. that’s what you do best, after all— driving him absolutely mad. 

richter isn’t the type to surrender. but for you, he gives it all up; just lies back and allows you to do as you wish. he likes having you above him. he likes your hungry stare and purposeful touches. he likes that for once, he’s allowed to be delicate and helpless. 

“you’re so sensitive tonight,” you coo, sounding airy but assured. as for richter, he grows restless beneath you. full of fervor and no pace, his hips desperately buck upwards, driving his cock deeper into your contracting walls. the man grinds, and he whimpers, eyes pricked with watery tears unfallen. you peer down at him, fingers drifting low to swipe at your clit, “you must really want to cum, hm?” 

he’s quick to nod, fluffy hair swaying with the motion. “please,” he, a belmont, begs. “if i can’t touch you, at least let me—”

“i’ll allow you to when i see it fit, not when you ask me to.” you dive down to his level, with your hand coming to grasp at his jaw. he feels the soft, familiar warmth of your breasts cushioning against his chest, your peaked nipples grazing his own in a way that pries a light moan from him.

you like this proximity; being close enough to press your lips, smoothly coated with waxy lipstick, upon the warm canvas of his skin. and so you do— one at the height of his rosy cheek, another against the pulse of his bobbing throat, and two more planted near his trembling pelvis. your favorite shade is what he’s now scattered in. richer’s a prettily painted picture. your masterpiece. 

“now shut up and be patient,” you smear the lipstick-print on his cheek with the drag of your thumb against it. he takes the digit into his mouth, wraps his tongue around it before you pop loose of his wet lips, “you can do that, i bet.” 

“yes, yes, i can,” a hasty reply he gives you, voice coated in desperation. it’s only when you top richter that he complies so well. and with that, you sit yourself up, planting your hands on his chest for leverage. you’re back to working him, angling the drop of your body to make his smooth cockhead collide with your spot. 

“ngh, f—fuck,” so many profanities spill from him that you’re sure he can hardly control it anymore. his mouth parts at how nicely your cunt sucks him in, and he can’t even bring himself to tear his eyes away from you sliding down the length of him, leaving creamy rings of arousal gathering at the base of him. 

“watch your mouth. you promised to be a good boy, did you not?” you give a sly warning. he’d listen, but the sway of your breasts with every bounce is too entrancing. if only he could just squeeze them, bite and lick and do anything that’d pull beautiful noise from you; flip you on your side, pound into you just the way you like and actually be fucking useful, but he can’t even manage to touch you in a position such as this . . . how cruel. 

from where his hands are tied against one another, he digs his fingernails into the supple flesh of his palm. “please, don’t fucking stop! oh, god— keep going, keep going,” with intrigue, you watch him stumble over his very own words. had his hands been free, he would be using them to slam you down harder. 

he’s throbbing now; rapid pulses at the underside of him, a sure sign of his nearing orgasm. “you’re close, rich. i can feel it,” is your sweet whisper, feathery against his ear. you’ve decided to give in. “go ahead. cum for me, love.” he does, without question. then comes a round of thick spurts, warm and pearly, tainting your womb once richter finally comes. 

his eyes seal shut, and it feels like his groans are reverberating through you. a little more is what you need, just that last bit of stimulation to push you over the edge. so again, you’re fucking yourself down on his twitching cock, getting off on the mess you’ve made out of him; spit-stricken lips and ceaseless moans. he’s a pretty little wreck of your very own doing. 

it’s the friction of his pelvis to your needy clit that finally satiates you. with a shameless cry, you spasm around him, reveling in the fullness before slowly lifting yourself off. thighs aching and body worn, you melt into richter, face pressed to his heaving chest. 

“i love this thing,” you pull the cloth loose and free richter of its confines, softly smooching his wrists, “keep it forever.”

“and why’s that?” he breathes out, touching where you just kissed him at his arm’s pulse. the headband’s constraint faintly lingers there.

“because it’s the only thing that makes you behave . . . you’re pretty when you behave.” he says nothing, silent with flattery. instead, richter gives the wordless response of his hands coming to fondle you from either side of your hips. he’s been deprived of your embrace for far too long. 

it’s quiet now, and the power play’s been set aside. he’s curling himself into your soft body, arms draped over your waist with his face nestled between your tits, and the white fabric’s been strewn over to the edge of the bed. all is still, though your hearts beat wildly together.

one day, he might dare to admit just how much he enjoys being used for the sake of your pleasure.

©𝑃ℐ𝒩𝒦ℳℐℛ𝒯ℋ! ⸻ all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! ౨ৎ

[remiratboi]

TW: CNC, Gun kink, Threat of Death, Fear kink, Gaslighting kink.

MINORS/CISHET DNI

Decided to try some longer form writing. Let me know what you think! If you like it, maybe I’ll write other things 🤷🏼

Contains: BDSM, cnc, fear kink, threat of death, bondage, gaslighting kink, gun kink, handjob, forced orgasm, mind break, ftm sub, NB dom, gender neutral, t4t, little bit of worship kink, praise, degradation, sort of choking

Language used: they, he, him, cunt, pussy, asshole, clit/(t)dick, clit/(t)cock, slut, pathetic, baby, good boy, my pet, partner, (i was specifically vague about the wording around what actions were being done to the clit/(t)cock or dick because then it’s applies to whatever you’d like to imagine or if you are maybe post surgery or using tools, etc.)

“Want to play Russian roulette?” Your partner says smoothly while running their fingertips down your naked back. You’re tied to the bed frame, on your stomach, legs and arms trapped in the harnesses you keep there. You yank your head up and try to look at them behind you. They are standing between your legs now, off the bed, where you can’t see them.

“Russian roulette?” You ask, confused. “Like, the gun game?”

You hear your partner moving around. “Yeah. But sexy.” They reply playfully.

Your throat gets thick at the way their voice sounds. “Oh, so like an empty gun?” You ask, lowering your head back to the pillow

You hear a few clicking noises you can’t place at first. Until the clicking stops after only 5 clicks, and is followed by the sound of a revolver spinning. “No, real Russian roulette” your partner responds and you whip your head back up.

You feel the bed sink slightly. Something cold and metallic presses up against your pussy. You make a choked garble as you instinctively yank on your bindings, and arch your back, trying to get away from the metal pushing into you.

“The only difference,” your partner continues casually, their voice dripping like warm chocolate “is that I’m not holding the gun against your head.”

The gun clicks.

You scream, your body spasming in a frantic, feral attempt to escape. You’re sobbing already, before you realize you’re still alive and unharmed. Your partner is slowly pushing the gun into your now dripping cunt.

“What the fuck!” You shout when you compose yourself a little bit. You pull, HARD on the wrist cuffs and try to get them off.

“What baby?” They purr, the trigger guard pressing into your clit/(t)dick now. The gun bottoms out in you, and they start pulling it back out at the same, agonizingly slow pace.

“Stop! Let me out!” You practically shout, the anger in you boiling now. You can’t believe they would do that, even as a joke. “Right now!” You pause the tugging and look over your shoulder expecting to see them pulling away from you.

They aren’t.

The gun clicks again.

Your vision blacks out for a second. You might have screamed, you don’t know. Your throat is dry and crackling. This time tears aren’t the thing that pulls you back. This time it’s your partner fucking you, hard and fast. With the gun.

A moan rips from your lips before you can stop it. You can hear how wet you are. The gun slides easily in and out of your soaked pussy. The trigger guard slamming into your clit/(t)dick with each downward thrust. The pain and pleasure pushes another moan out of you.

“I don’t think you really want me to let you out.” Your partner teases. They thrust in, extra hard that time. You exhale heavily at the force.

You start to whine back a response when the gun clicks again. And then again.

You repeat a combination of both previous reactions, black passes over your brain for a moment as you scream. The scream devolves into heaving sobs.

“Four” your partner states. Their voice sounding cold now. You open your eyes and realize the lamp that had been on, is now off. The room is pitch black. All you can think about, all you can feel, the only sensation as it takes over your mind is the gun, slamming now, in and out of your drenched, sloppy cunt.

You feel the edge starting to rise up in front of you. That slow pressure deep in the pit of you. You can feel it building. Rising up with each pound in and out. In and out. You’re screaming and crying and begging. Incoherent and desperate. You aren’t sure when you started moaning in between cries, but you are now.

The gun clicks.

You blackout fully this time. Just for one moment. The world stops. A split second later you’re back and your partner is laughing callously.

“Five.” They chuckle. “You slut! You wouldn’t believe how tight you got that time.” They slow down the pumping, but don’t stop. They start doing long slow pulls. All the way out, not even the tip in. Then all the way back in and grinding the trigger guard against your clit/(t)cock.

You’re moaning unabashedly now, tears and drool and snot running down your face, the pillow a mess. “Pl-“ you try to say, “please”

“Please what, baby?” Your partner feigns concern. “Do you want me to stop?” They ask. You whine and squirm in response. You honestly don’t know even know which you are answering with, yes or no.

“I’m not going to stop.” They state, the faked concern turning to cruelty. “I’m going to fuck you, with this loaded gun, until you cum all over it like the pathetic cockslut you are.” They slam the gun in and out two times, punctuating their sentence. Then they stop. You feel the guns weight change as its handle twists in you and the whole thing falls down and out of you onto the bed. The bed shifts. Your partner walks around to look down at you.

You imagine what you must look like. Tear stained, snot and saliva mixed in your hair. You think about how wet and messy your cunt is. How desperate you look. You feel like a pathetic cockslut. You look up at them in the darkness. Your eyes have adjusted apparently. They stand, illuminated by the moonlight from your bedroom window.

Even in this moment. In this terrible, terrifying, embarrassing moment. Even in this moment, they are radiance. You look up at them in awe. You feel a fresh rush of fluids in your already drenched pussy. Your chest tightens in symmetry as their jaw tightens, while they gaze out the window at the moon.

They turn to look back at you and lean down, eye to eye. Their beauty in this moment stuns and frightens you. The light filtering in from the window casts dark shadows at this angle.

“And while you’re cumming on this loaded gun that you begged me to take out of you.” They lean in close. You can feel their breath on your lips. Honey and spice. Sweet and dangerous. You can’t help but melt at their words, degrading as they were.

“I’m going to pull the trigger for number 6” they state. Their eyes locking yours. You try to look away but can’t.

The fear building in you now isn’t a screaming or crying or pleading type thing. It’s a cold, slow, ruthless frost, eating its way through your mind to your very soul. Devouring everything you’ve ever been, your life, your memories. This bone chilling fear.

Your partner chuckles darkly. “What a pretty look in your eyes.” They muse. “Ready?” They tease, cocking an eyebrow.

You squeeze your eyes shut and push your face into the pillow. You push down the desire to react, again. You let the frost burn away that anger. You focus only on one thing.

You can not cum.

No matter what you want, or feel or think, you cannot allow yourself to cum. Don’t think about the gun that’s now slowly starting to move in and out of your desperate cunt. Don’t think about the smooth honey-spice taste of your partners lips. Don’t think about their lips on your clit/(t)cock, or their eyes looking up at you from that position. Don’t think about anything.

Just. Don’t. Cum.

You feel their long, attentive fingers around your clit/(t)dick. The gun is thrusting in and out, quickly but long and deep. They turned the handle so the trigger guard digs into your asshole every time now instead. You honestly don’t mind it that much. The stimulation feels kind of nice there.

Focus

Your partners fingers play you like a well loved instrument. It’s only moments before your can feel the edge building again.

“No, no, nonono, noooooo” you try to beg but the “nos” quickly turn into coos.

“Come on, baby.” Your partner purrs again. “Don’t you want to cum? It would feel so good.” They goad.

“Please.” You whimper. The edge looms over you. The darkness and the gun, the trigger guard and their fingers are all you think about. All you can focus on.

I’m going to die

Is the last thought you have before the wall breaks in front of you and you’re screaming.

“Six.” Your partner growls.

The gun clicks for the 6th time.

You’re cumming and screaming and crying. Your body is writhing on the bed. You can’t feel anything but you can also feel everything. You don’t know what’s real and what isn’t. Your pussy spasms violently as another wave crests over you. Your partners fingers still working your clit/(t)cock. You feel alive. You feel dead.

“Good boy.” You hear and cling to that one spot of reality. It’s your anchor. You heard them. That was real. That was alive. That was living.

Your throat was raw, and another sob ripped through it. “Please.” You said, broken up into heaves. You start feeling real again.

You’re dazed and half conscious as your partner undoes the bindings holding you in place. You curl up into a tight ball. They shuffle around, doing something for a few moments before crawling into the bed next to you. They hum lightly while draping a light, soft blanket over the both of you.

“You did so good for me, baby.” They coo gently. Their arms wrap around you, pulling you tight against their warm body. You barely flinch as they unroll you and push you to face away from them.

A moment later you’re tight against their body, half conscious, your head resting on their right arm, their left draped around you in front of them. They whisper sweet praise in your ear.

“There were never any bullets in the gun?” You ask dreamily.

“No, love.” They respond, nuzzling their face into your neck, giving you soft kisses and nips.

Their left hand makes its way down to your swollen, sore clit/(t)dick. You buck against them, the sensation overwhelming. They bring their right forearm up against your throat, holding you in place.

“Please.” You beg, their grip stopping you from moving more than a few inches. Their fingers dance along with you as you squirm.

“I want to make you feel good.” Their honey-spice breath washing against your ear and cheek. “You were such a good boy and I want to reward my pet when he’s a good boy.”

You can’t help but moan and grind back against his fingers.

Good boy

My pet

Their fingers speed up and soon you’re writhing against their body, their arm still locked around your throat. Your clit/(t)cock throbbing and begging for release.

“Cum for me, my pet.” They say in a way that makes it feel like they are asking for the most beautiful jewel they had ever seen. “Be my good boy.”

And fireworks.

[sea-lanterns]

lesbian thoughts (nfsw)

okay first off the lack of wlw posts on tumblr is sad :')

anywayyy getting tied up by beidou/yelan/ning/dehya/miko/ei/sara/etc (consensual ofc) is so ?!?!??!?!

like yes

and just minimal bondage, like j the hands or legs tied up omg sjdhjhfjds

okay thats enough horni thoughts for today

very gay anon

i love minimal bondage. i’m not too into the bdsm side of things, but minimal bondage like handcuffs or soft fabrics on the wrists are totally fine with me (//▽//)

nsfw under the cut—————————

okay but minimal bondage with all these women? yes please, i have specific headcanons for what they all like to use so have this little drabbles post to feed your imagination.

beidou is kind of rough. she’s a big burly pirate so she doesn’t often have soft things to tie you with. small ropes used to fasten the ship will do as she enjoys how they rub up against your skin and leave bruises when she bounces you on her strap.

yelan —as expected— likes to use her hydro ropes to hold you together. the cold yet flexible strings slotting itself between your folds as the watery sensations make you wetter than you already are. sometimes she tightens the strings, so that they slide even harsher against your sensitive and aching clit.

ningguang is fancy. she’s the type of woman to use the softest silk bindings that don’t cause a single scratch on your skin. they’re light and delicate, completely juxtaposing how brutal her fingers move when she fucks you in her chamber.

dehya is also kind of rough. she doesn’t use ropes or fabric, no. she uses the pure grip and strength of her body. one hand able to keep you in place and preventing you from moving while the other thrusts into you harshly.

miko uses her tails. all five of them to be exact as the soft fur of her large pink tails wraps around your body to hold you in place. her fur often tickling your nipples and sensitive areas while she traces gentle nail marks against your hips.

ei doesn’t do bondage often, but when she does, she uses her pure electro energy. the archon holding you up with the strange, tingly, electric force and letting the energy crackle and tease at your nerves.

sara uses her wings. her massive black wings that engulf your body under hers and hold you down with a strength she kept hidden from you. keeping you hidden under her large wingspan as she thrusts up into you with a toy of your choice.

[akatsukitrash]

Wait I wanna know what makes MinaKushi toxic 👀

Honestly when it comes to comparing this ship to other canon ships, it’s not that terrible. However I really don’t see what people mean when they say it’s a beautiful romance and a healthy relationship. Obviously a lot of it comes from Kishimoto’s inability to write female characters without 500 sexist tropes, eg. Kushina abandoning her dream of becoming Hokage and instead making her husband Hokage while she stays at home getting pregnant (a pregnancy that’s incredibly dangerous! And we’re supposed to believe Minato loves her more than anything when he willingly impregnates her). Their first meeting was cute, alright, but then Minato just lets her get bullied. Sure he does offhandedly say later that it’s because she’s strong and he trusts her, and she is, but he could’ve offered his friendship, instead of spying on her (I also find it interesting how Hinata, who canonically kept trying to befriend Naruto, is presented as a stalker by the fandom and called misogynistic insults, but Minato, who does stalk Kushina and doesn’t try to befriend her, is called romantic). Standing by while someone is getting bullied (and I can’t remember if it happened in the manga or the anime but one of her bullies threw actual kunai at her, so it escalated to the point of attempted murder) is being complicit. Yeah he was a kid, but I think we can acknowledge it was a bad move on his part and Kushina wasn’t being a bitch for disliking him, like I’ve seen a lot of fans imply. 

The kidnapping scene is…well. Minato wasn't necessarily being toxic there (still stupid to go after grown ass Jonins instead of alerting authorities, but I guess Naruto had to get his saviour complex from somewhere) but again. Sexist writing. It also implies Kushina is only into Minato because he saved her, there isn’t really any indication that she likes him as a person, and they start dating right away as children. 

Then we get to adult them and that’s where the power imbalance is really bad. Kushina is a genocide survivor who’s completely cut off from her original culture and even exiled from her country, she’s inherently in a vulnerable state especially because she has no support system due to being a hated jinchuuriki, and we don’t see any bond outside Minato, with the sole exception of Mikoto, who’s part of an oppressed minority. At the time, the Uchiha weren’t being spied on nor pushed to the outskirts of the village, granted, so most of the oppression we see them face hasn’t happened yet, but it’s safe to assume that Mikoto doesn’t have the power to help Kushina. Meanwhile, Minato has ties to the Hokage, to one of the Sannin, has his own genin team, etc. He has a life outside Kushina, and the power to punish her socially and legally if she steps out of line. Kushina is confined to being his girlfriend (there is no mention of marriage so I’m gonna assume they weren’t married), she’s viewed with suspicion (at best) while he’s viewed as a hero, and she is stuck in a village whose culture is completely foreign to her and which has been actively hostile towards hers (their mockery of her Uzumaki features + the fact Konoha didn’t come to Uzushio’s aid). His whole reputation as a powerful shinobi is entirely built off the back of the Uzumaki clan. Most of his jutsus were taught to him by Kushina, who’s kept away from the Hokage position despite mastering them better than him on top of having the hiden jutsu Adamantine Chains (which we’ve seen can bind Kyuubi even while she was weakened by both Bijuu extraction and childbirth, and we see Karin use it to destroy the Buddha Mokuton jutsu which is a jutsu Hashirama uses to defeat Susanoo-clad Kyuubi, and Orochimaru says Karin’s chains are weaker than Kushina) + her being the Jinchuuriki of the most powerful Bijuu and having a very strong will and chakra to suppress him. There is no reason she was kept from being Hokage that’s not pure xenophobia and sexism. The Yellow Flash only exists because the Uzumaki clan was massacred, and there is nothing that shows he cared enough to preserve her culture, find survivors, or anything to repay the Uzumaki clan. It feels very exploitative. The only two jutsus he uses that aren’t Uzumaki related are the Rasengan (which he admits is his own less powerful version of a Bijuudama, something Kushina has used as a Jinchuuriki of Kyuubi) and Hiraishin, a jutsu invented by SENJU Tobirama, who belongs to a clan related to the Uzumaki, and who gets no credit from Minato, which again ties back to Minato only using the Uzumaki to further his career while doing nothing to help them. It also feels a lot like he’s trying to cosplay Hashirama (even going as far as mirroring Hashirama’s behavior in the War arc despite having a completly different personally pre-Edo Tensei) but that’s a whole other can of worms.

Of course, a lot of those are circumstances that are mostly outside of Minato’s control, but he doesn’t make things better, and it does establish an environment where Kushina is essentially tied to him as her sole provider of attention and love and as a man who holds an incredibly amount of political and societal leverage over her, while exploiting her heritage with no credit and no reward for her as a person and shinobi. And he does use it against her eventually. While he gets to tell Kakashi about her pregnancy and have him guard her day and night, and is free to meet people as he pleases, she’s kept away from her only friend Mikoto, to the point where she didn’t know that Mikoto was pregnant with a boy and not a girl, and wasn’t able to be present at the birth or even the days following the birth (Sasuke was born in July, so he was about two months and a half when Kushina finally saw him BY ACCIDENT). That is an insane level of isolation and while we’re told it’s for “her own good”, for me it just shows Minato doesn’t care about her as a person + is himself filled with bigotry towards the Uchiha. 

We also know that Kushina kept being discriminated against for her appearance as a “foreigner” and that she felt like only Minato could love her (or rather her red hair) and that much of her self worth hinges on Minato’s love of her hair. So again, I’m rehashing this point, but it’s crucial to see that the relationship was never equal. 

Where Minato gets seriously toxic though is Naruto’s birth. He simply ignored her wishes, which confirmed my assumptions earlier of him not seeing her as a person but as a concept, and her culture as just an accessory he can throw away whenever he wants. Using an Uzumaki jutsu to put her son through the unbelievable horror and pain of being Jinchuuriki (while not even being sure Naruto would survive having a Bijuu inside him) is beyond bigoted. Her begging doesn’t phase him. Her asking him to survive so he could be there for Naruto also falls into deaf ears. He claims he’d rather die and give Kushina five minutes with her son later, but I honestly don’t think it’s entirely that, especially since he pulled the “I’m a Konoha shinobi and so is my son”. That line solidified him as a terrible father and husband, but also shows that again, he doesn’t give a shit about Kushina being from Uzushio. Naruto is his, and therefore Konoha’s. He should suffer for Konoha. But also he, as an Uzumaki, should be exploited by Konoha like his mother was. He didn’t even have any last words for him. The worst part is if his dumb fucking ass sealed Kyuubi back into Kushina, she would’ve LIVED. She is a full Uzumaki, and Naruto being half still survived the extraction as soon as Kyuubi was put back into him in the war arc. Hell, she outlived Minato, whose pathetic ass died right away (also he didn’t even have enough chakra to keep fighting Obito, while Kushina was spamming jutsus despite her mortal injuries, but that’s again another can of worms). 

For me their death scene was only a tragedy for Kushina. Exploited since she was eight years old, dies at only twenty-four for a village that hated her and her culture, knowing she’s leaving behind a cultureless, parentless son who will grow up alone and just as exploited. Nothing justifies what Minato did. The fact he never regretted it nor even paused to consider Kushina’s words shows just how little he actually values her input and her opinions. She was never his equal, and that was made clear when he made the decision on her behalf for both of them to die and for Naruto to be a weapon. 

Now yeah, don’t get me wrong, I love toxic ships. I’m a toxic HashiMito truther. But MinaKushi is pushed on us both by the narrative and fandom as the perfect romance and I don’t see it. Minato is self-centered, exploitative, bulldozes over his girlfriend’s DYING wishes, disregards her culture and only brings up her trauma as a genocide survivor to convince her that they should die for the village that abused her till her last breath. Just because he washed the dishes once doesn’t make him a good partner. Kushina was essentially chained to him, and I can hardly see a scenario where her leaving him would be without consequence. That’s just not a healthy relationship. 

Thanks for the ask! This was fun to write, although I fear I might get hated by the entirety of the fandom lmfao. This came out longer than expected (thank god I’m too lazy to add manga panels) because I have so many Kushina feels. She’s my baby

[chaos-and-sparkles]

Presenting:

Prowler Pavitr <3<3

Here's Pavitr's design in my Prowler Pavitr au akjdskjdskjkskdsk! It's my au where Pavitr is a fallen hero who used to be Spider-Man and becomes the Prowler, fueled by rage against a world and a system that forced him to pretend at perfection and then only hurt him and the people he loves.

I love him so much,, I have so much stuff in progress about him rn (working on the fics too). Gonna have chaipunk front and center, and like four separate plot arcs, I'm so insane about this au actually -

Anyway here's some infodump about his design inspirations and symbolism I put in it, I loveeeee talking abt him:

Hair -

Okay so this is after some time, like a couple months since Pav became the Prowler, and he's grown his hair out a bit now. It's kind of a mix of rejection of the "masculine" standard of short cropped hair by flaunting his longer curls that he's always been proud of and even had to grow to love He also dyes his hair purple! Bc he didn't wanna cut his hair but he wanted to do something to set himself apart from his old identity and also he's literally an impulsive 17-18 year old and wanted to do something that felt like owning his own self and asserting autonomy over his body etc etc

Something Borrowed -

The tie that he's using to tie back his hair is his original blue headband!! It doesn't go with his outfit at all but It's the original blue headband that Maya Aunty got for him all those years ago that he's been wearing forever and it snapped and broke in the battle that preceded what happened to her, and he still keeps it and ties his hair back with it instead The nosering (nath) used to be Gayatri's, they used to try out her jewelry on him and he loved that one so much she gifted it to him, and since he's basically left his old life and gone no contact with her it's all he has left of Gaya too

Main Outfit -

His jacket is loosely based on Krrish's leather jacket from the Bollywood movie series that's about a superhero named Krrish. I just think it has the dramatique and vibe Pav would like He binds his chest bc he still hadn't had top surgery but he's way more open about it, with the binding showing through the neck of the jacket now where he would have never dared to hint at it before,,, another thing about how he doesn't care about people's opinions and perceptions and standards anymore, he wants to say fuck you as much to everything in the system as he can and also piss people off while he's at it and a trans antihero/villain is a surefire way to do that. His dhoti is basically a dhoti pant, modified a bit bc i liked it

He has payals on his feet that make a faint chhan chhan noise when he approaches which has creepiness and cuteness potential imo I basically turned the prowler logo into his dhoti belt buckle askjdsjk

It's also slightly modified to mimic a trishul or even a diya shape, up for interpretation either way, bc trishuls are a symbol of Shiva, god of destruction, and diyas are a symbol of light in the darkness and the need to find it Also the chain around the dhoti at his hips is both a reference to decorative dhoti chain accessories and the lil things on it are his modified grenades that he uses for arson, bc Prowler Pav is big on arson and murder ajajsjsj

Prowler Claws -

His bangles/claws were hands down my favourite part to design!!

So his claws are of course his original spiderman bangles modified into the prowler claws But i based them on three weapons, each of which means something interesting for Pavitr

The first is bagh nakh. Literally translates to "tiger claws", famously used in a legend of Shivaji Maharaj They usually curl into the palm instead of going between the fingers like they do for Pav, but they're basically metal claws wound secretly around your hand for a sneak attack It's associated with bravery and righteous rage bc of Shivaji Maharaj but it's also really associated with stealth and an attack from unexpected quarters, being stabbed from a side no one saw coming. Which. Pavitr. The perfect hero, becoming the Prowler. Come on

Second is the trishul, aka trident That's the reason there are three prongs to his claw Trishul is the symbol of the god Shiva, and as i mentioned he's the god of destruction, as in he's part of the main triumvirate of gods who focus on creation preservation and destruction He also is really really associated with rage, especially destructive rage; he has a whole dance called the tandava for his rage which is a Huge Deal I can't stress this enough And because Prowler Pav is a being fuelled by rage against a system that has hurt so many including him that he wants to destroy and see burned, it is perfect for him The trishul is also seen as a symbol of goddess Kali, who's similar in the destruction goddess aspect and also is literally an embodiment of rage and violence that cannot be controlled which is more the theme I started out with, but whichever you notice first, it works either way. There's a whole myth in fact where Shiva had to lie beneath her feet to stop her destructive rampage before it ended the world.

And lastly, the urumi, aka the whip sword from Kerala Basically each of Prowler Pav's claws extend into whip swords when he does the swing/slash/whip motion This is really interesting at least to me, bc it means 2 things: 1) Pav still remembers and is actively using some of his skillset from swinging around as Spiderman. He does use the urumis to curl around distant objects and swing too, and they are very lethal weapons when used right, and that use requires a lot of skill, huge parts of which he built up by his experience 2) This is a weapon which requires an unimaginable amount of control, precision and strength And Pav is doing all that So all of his actions, every movement, is very deliberate and thought out. He's not doing any of this - turning away from heroism, becoming the Prowler, using these lethal weapons - on a whim. They are all very very deliberate.

Also one more thing - the blades of his claws are all retractable ofc But they are not protected or anything They slice up his palms and the in-betweens of his fingers whenever he uses them,, especially when he uses them as urumis And it would be so easy to fix the design or make gloves or smth so they don't do that But he doesn't ever do it He could make it so his hands don't bleed on using his claws But he doesn't want to

He is an angsty boyo...

Mask -

The eyes are ofc like the prowler mask design except I made them more curved and curled at the end bc that's a kind of shape often seen in traditional art of the headdress of Kali, goddess of uncontrollable violence as I've said before Then the part between them is meant to be based off a third eye, which is something both Shiva and Kali have. It opens at the height of their rage, it's meant to symbolise destructive fury for them both Although it's also used in an all seeing context otherwise but a lot of whitewashed bullshit is also there that dilutes sources to find connotations His theyyam-based tusks from his Spider-Man mask, I wanted to keep

The shape below the eyes is based off the noses in masks in various regional Indian tribal and traditional masks,,, a lot of them tend to have a very distinctive curly nose shape that I wanted to keep, a lot of these masks also depict rage or are intimidating and are very emotive And then ofc you have the bottom of the mask, I made the curved-ish cut based on the peacock-feather-y shape i was using but it's also based on the general shape of Kali's lips in traditional art where she has her tongue out, it's a big symbol of her rage and rampage I tried to put the tongue too but it looked awkward and honestly i thought it would be cooler to jsut leave the bottom half of the mask open and you can see Pav's mouth and his expressions through it a bit instead, in the spirit of that And also it's based a little bit off Krrish's mask, you can never escape the Krrish design Also there's the lil teeth. Those are often used in art for demons and animals,, and Prowler Pav is very cat coded in his behaviour in general tbh. He's like if an orange cat's fur got burned to black.

Anyway, so yeah, that's him!

[telemy]

Completely on yours and hers(?) side in all of this. IK the main complaint is that Ant wants to rape Penelope but that wasn’t even in the original story. In an au you can change whatever you want and Jorge did exactly that w Epic as well (how the sirens look, the fact that Odysseus had wax in his ears in the song but in story was tied to the mast pole to listen to them, the ant wanting to rape Penelope etc). “It’s disrespectful to Jorge” my brother in Zeus Jorge didnt make the original story. In the shipping au I could totally see Ant going “damn can’t convince this woman to be my wife guess I gotta put the moves on the heir of the kingdom. Gonna be king one way or another” cause bro doesn’t care abt her as a person even in the story he just wants the power which is where the idea comes from and it’s a fun idea to explore!

For the age thing: Tele is 20 theres no exact age for Ant in the book but he didn’t go to war w the others 20yrs ago so he had to have been somewhere between 0-10 so at most there’s a 10yr age dif which isn’t that bad (my own parents have a 16yr age dif) Penelope is around 39 cause she got married to Odysseus at 18 and had Tele at 19 (if I’m doing the math right) and then Odysseus immediately went to war soon after his birth and took all of age/able bodied men w him (I couldn’t find the exact age of when men in Ancient Greece were “of age” but it’s gotta be somewhere between 10-16 (puberty age range).

IK google sucks recently Yall but it doesn’t take too much effort to look into this - sincerely a half Greek a half Italian that used the original Greek myths to bind w her culture cause her immigrant parents wouldn’t teach her their native language

Its good to see people from greek culture Agree with all this :]

Every Au changes depending on the creator, in my Au the only difference is that he actually does love Telemachus (and grew up with him). Its a shame that i can't know about Elian's Au because all what happened, and It hurts.

I also think that they shouldn't speak in the place of Jorge. Talya (Wich is literally Jorge's girlfriend) supported Elian and loved her art, wich doesn't give "the creator hates this' vibes..

Also, i noticed non-greek people saying stuff about greek culture and involving it on all of this, wich isn't cool..

(Im not greek, but im an Hellenistic Pagan, and i seen people say that changing myths affects the religion and offends us, wich isn't true. Thats like telling a Zeus devotee that they can't worship Zeus because he did bad stuff in the myths. Myths are myths, fictional, and they are NOT related to the religion.)

Also! In the book 22 of the actual Odyssey, wich is practically before he died, Antinous is called "Young man" wich means that he was still a Young man before he died. This in ancient greece was really Young, probs between 16-21/22/23 or so, wich means he could even be Telemachus' actual age. (Altho, i believe him being atleast 1 year older, he gives off the vibe)

Regardless, thanks for sharing your opinion on the subject, me and more people getting cancelled from all of this apreciate it, we love you 🫶