People Who Act Aggressive And Negative As Fuck And Then When You’re Like “hey Can You Stop” They’re

*hears a foreign language i don’t speak*

me: *sobbing* it’s beautiful i must learn it

Silco X vampire reader

Send me a NSFW headcanon and I'll write a 5 sentence ficlet about it

Trans Silco for this one (Uses terms dick, cunt and slit)

-

When your mouth leaves his cunt, the whine he gives is glorious, full of need and want, without even having your bite, as you've grown to taste him without even needing to nibble.

But sometimes you still like to, as you move your mouth to his thigh, while you raise a hand to rub over his dick, enjoying the curse. Your teeth sink in and his back arches off the bed, much to your amusement.

"Easy beloved," you purr, with a lap to the small cut you've made, watching him twitch and his slit leak, gushing out more of that wonderful taste, "I'll eat you again soon."

To your surprise, he glares down at you, canting his hips and bringing them back to your face, and the boldness only encourages you to dip your tongue into his folds once more, much to his loud affirming pleasure.

If I’m being honest, I don’t like yanderes who only care about themselves. I don’t like the ones who could hardly give a damn about their darlings other than the fact that they’re theirs. They’d lock them up in dog cages or a make-shift prison cell, perhaps, even chained to a bathroom with no care about them. They treat them like prisoners, only giving them basic care.

No. Not my thing. 

That isn’t yandere.

Yandere is about being so hopelessly in love and devoted to your object of affection, your darling. It’s about being so deeply in love with someone that those feelings distort into obsession. And it’s not always about murder-fuelled thoughts or raging jealousy, it’s the idea that without your darling, you are hopeless. You can’t function without them, they are the oxygen that fills your lungs, the sun that guides you home. Without them, you feel empty and hollow, like you were born a second too early to appreciate this world. Your heart feels too heavy, your mind doesn’t feel right, and the people around you don’t matter anymore, because you just can’t function, can’t exist.

A yandere needs their darling’s validation and attention. They need YOU to tell them how great they are, that they’ve been doing a good job– because they can’t get it from anyone else. You become their sole motivation in life.

They don’t necessarily have to be devoted to you, spend their days attached to your hip and stalking you from behind. I mean, yes, those yanderes are great and I could go on and on about them, but I think I’ve touched on this before. Yanderes are allowed to exist outside of their darling. They’re allowed to have hobbies and work and things they treasure that aren’t just centred around their darling…

But they need YOU to help them, to motivate them and get them ready and going to fight whatever obstacles they face in life. They dream, fantasise about having you as their spouse, their partner, their best friend. Just knowing that they can call you up, maybe even get a text message before a big life event (like a sports game or a once in a lifetime job interview), they need that.  They want to know that they have an ally in life, someone who will always be there for them. Someone who cares enough to see that they’re well-fed and clothed. Who will make sure they’re healthy and happy and comfortable and loved. Who will be able to give them confidence whenever they’re lacking.

And the only probable person they can see that coming from, is you. And if they have to do some under-handed things to get you by their side, be it stalking to figure out all the things you like, so that the next time you guys meet they’ll know exactly what to say to get into your good books, then so be it. And if they happen to be a little deluded, a little demented, and they decide the best course of action is to kidnap you and chain you by your ankle to their apartment/room, then that’s what they have to do.

In the end, as long as they have you, does the journey really matter?

I know I’m being an insufferable worldbuilding nerd here, but my basic metric for evaluating media with very inhuman protagonists is “how easily can one offer a complete and coherent account of this media’s plot without ever mentioning the fact that the protagonist is, for example, a talking car?”. The harder it is, the higher it scores.

so women are supposed to grin and bear the books, the comics, the movies, the plays, the tv shows, the stories, the sci-fi, the translated ancient poems, the fucking millennia of men writing about their self inserts torturing women and it being declared as High Art by other men, we’re supposed to read it in our free time, study it in classrooms, include their styles in our own writing, accept their cultural influence as natural, watch it in the cinema, write about it, talk about it, accept it, aspire it, but men can’t tolerate three seconds of female wish fulfilment of a woman snapping the wrist of a creep without feeling personally kicked in the balls.

what if the rules were reversed for a second? Holding Sevika tightly against you while she tries to ride your strap??? holding her so she can't move, just sits there squirming, mumbling random words and sentences?? begging for you to let her move?? begging for you to do something?? almost borderline in tears because the pleasure from the strap is making it harder for her to be quiet. Even though you've said to not make a sound while you try to work? aware she would get more punishment for not listening to you? trying her hardest to get some friction with the toy? kissing your neck trying to control herself when all she wants is your attention? Wanting to be quiet and so good for you but also wanting to fucking cum? Yeah, what if right?

"But I've been good, so good⎯ waiting for you⎯ please"

heyyyyyyyyy lol 😭 how yall doing? Good? I'm glad. Not okay? know I love you, you're beautiful, you're amazing and everything will be okay. Hope you're drinking ya water and eating some good food. If you aren't, do it now 👿 💋

Before anything, thank you for writing all these glorious sub na'vi and dom reader pieces (does your back hurt from carrying all the sub na'vi fics??)

Really, really fucking feral for sub quaritch and like HOT DAMN 👀🥵💦 might I offer some brainrot???

Miles absolutely being a menace for dom reader's cock, you CANNOT believe the shit he'd do just to have that fat cock in him (motherfucker purposely drops the most randomest of things infront of you)

You'd think that after a couple of rounds, he'd be done, no? Wrong! No one can pull him away from that dick when he decides that he still wants it, stamina be damned.

Miles bragging and loudly complimenting that dick tho (recom team abso-fucking-lutely wants a ride, eyeing up reader like "what the meat stick do? 👀")

EATING OUT THAT PUSSY AND ASS CAUSE HE DESERVES IT FO SURE

Imagine reader coming out of the shower and sees Quaritch just fingering the shit out of himself just so he can immediately jump that dick (he's done the prep work already, now is the time for the fuckening)

But also imagine him trying to get off but he can cause he's used to reader doing that shit for him?? (IM SOBBING - THE BABY GIRL ENERGY'S TOO FUCKING STRONG)

And I can just keep going on and on and on - but you get it no??

Thank you, thank you again for all the hardwork!

OH LAWD THANK YOU, I AGREE 100%

You know when you have to drag dogs to a bath, they’re just scratching the floor and clinging to the doorframe? That’s Quaritch when he has to be taken away from that dick lmao

Also thank you, I’m glad y’all are enjoying my brainrot!

The Language of Silver Millennium

When watching Sailor Moon Crystal, have you ever seen the alien letters resembling that of an Ancient Language spoken in the Moon Kingdom? Usually one can see them on the screens of the computers used by Luna and Artemis, but by far the most noticeable example would be the following scene of the Sword of the Silver Crystal:

I looked everywhere online for answers… Is this even an actual language? Perhaps these letters are a simple cipher for the Latin alphabet or Japanese kana as with the Hylian languages of the Zeldaverse? My eventual conclusion, however, is that these are simply random symbols with no true meaning or correlation to any alphabet. In the picture above, for example, there is an insufficient number of symbols to represent a language with as deep a meaning as the supposed translation. They are made to appeal aesthetically to the idea of an ancient moon language, but the creators put no effort into making it an actual language to much of my dismay. And even if it was a simple cipher of an existing alphabet, I would still be very disappointed at the lack of effort and creativity on the matter.

So, as a result, I took it upon myself to experiment with the given symbols and create an Ancient Moon Language to be spoken in Silver Millennium. I thought the symbols looked as thought they would be a syllabary of some sort (although, the letter-to-word ratio in the picture makes it look as though it were a simple alphabet of some sort, unless the ‘words’ are actually entire sentences and they lack spaces and punctuation, which is also possible), and so I transformed it into a complex featural-syllabic script. The grammar I created is primarily Subject-Object-Verb and uses postpositions, and the language is topographically a fusional language. I based much of the vocabulary on Latin and Ancient Greek so far, as I figured some of the humans on Earth at the time would’ve spoken Latin and Ancient Greek and would be influenced by this language, especially since the Prince’s name is Endymion, which is a Greek name. I also thought that the names of the Sailor Senshi would influence the name of the Roman Gods and Goddesses through contact with the Moon Kingdom, hence their names being of Ancient Moon language origins (which in the language I created would be Giupitéra, Mársia, Mercuría, Venúsia).

Here’s an example I translated; it’s the quote from when Sailor Moon pulls the Sword of the Silver Crystal and the text appearing on the sword is read aloud:

I geládun ilumá cerún elá, Thási ípula irá térmia cristía íli cor-désu le vupá. Perféctu térmiu árgientu cristíu hávae, ne Lúni manílle furtúne empérae. Lúni divíne turúne alá oratíe dárae, ne pásia thasúne alá le tiverá.

(When this sword shines, the legendary crystal within the Queen will work as she wishes. Hold the complete Legendary Silver Crystal and awaken the great power of the Moon. Offer a prayer to the divine tower of the Moon, and peace shall return to the kingdom.)

And then here’s an example of the script as it would be correctly written; it says “Endymion” or literally “Endímiun” (En-dí-mi-un):

So what do you guys think? Should I continue to create this language, maybe even make lessons for others to learn it? Would you be interested in learning such a language?

thinking ab sev with a clingy gf simply bc i feel like she would definitely be secretly pretty clingy too (and bc im probably the clingiest person to exist)

*cracks knuckles*

you're so right baby, she would be and is very clingy.

In my opinion, i think Sevika would be dying with pure heart eyes on the inside because her gf is clingy, and wants to be with her all of the time. Sevika is playing cards? You're right beside her, huddled under her cloak almost. She's at the bar? You're there, holding onto her arm to be close. Anywhere Sevika is, you're like a little lost puppy behind her (its'a good thing dw) Because you just feel so safe with her around.

I know for a fact she's going to act like she hates it, but whenever you aren't with her, but he's like a lost puppy too. Who's hand is she going to hold when walking through the streets of Zaun if you're busy working? Who's going to hug her when you're not around? Who's going to play with her hair if you're out with friends? Sevika is grumpy, but without her beautiful little thing by her side she's fuckin miserable, just wanting you to be with her. Perched in her lap like you do every single day and night.

Don't even get me started on when you both see each other after a fucking hour. Hugging like you haven't seen each other for 4 years. It's cute, she secretly loves it. Cuddled right up into her chest, damn near sniffing that smoke on her shirt, a scent you came to love, and squeezing the dear life out of her. Simply because you missed her and can't be without her.

damn i called myself out in this, fuck. Im down horrendously LMFAOOOO

Real Penguins Make Do - BTAS Oswald Cobblepot x Reader

Summary: You decide to bring a new toy into the bedroom. Oswald is more than happy to oblige. GN reader. (The title is from a joke on the Arkham Discord)

Word Count: 2.3k (I'm so sorry)

Warnings: Ovipositors, slight breeding kink, dom/sub dynamics, dom!reader, Oswald's trust issues

It never failed to amaze you how authoritarian Oswald was in his day-to-day life juxtaposed against how, frankly, needy he was when alone with you.

Oswald's whole body shuddered beneath you, even without having been touched, and you thought to yourself, not for the first time, how lucky you were to get to see him like this. With his poise and dignity stripped away, leaving him bare and raw and open. Only you would ever know how touch-starved he truly was, how he'd preen under the smallest scraps of affection.

"Such a sweet boy..." Your voice was barely above a murmur and you gently touched his cheek, smiling at how his head subtly tilted into your palm. His eyes were already soft and glassy as he looked up at you with that lovestruck grin that always appeared when you held him like this.

"And what do you have planned for us tonight, my turtledove?" You could tell how hard he was trying to retain his usual smooth, collected tone, but the tremor in his voice was unmistakable.

"And ruin the surprise? You'll find out as we go."

And, god, that worked exactly as you had hoped. All the air escaped his lungs in a reverent 'oh' as his pupils dilated.

"W-well," he swallowed thickly, "I am yours to do with what you will."

"Mm, I already knew that." You twisted your fingers into his hair and pulled, relishing the drawn-out whine that you elicited. As much as you loved cradling him in your arms like this, you did have a plan to get to. "Alright, pretty boy, I want you on the bed, legs spread."

Oswald nearly tripped over his own feet in his rush to obey.

Once situated, he looked over at where you were standing, brow furrowed in confusion. You were holding what he could only assume was a sex toy, but the shape was unlike any he had ever seen before. The length didn't seem terribly intimidating, no more than six inches, but the thought of how girthy knot at the base and the little bumps that covered it would feel inside of him made Oswald whimper and unconsciously rub his thighs together. The strange part, though, was the hole in the tip that seemed to go all the way down the toy and the clamshell container you held in your other hand.

Still, the fact that Oswald had no idea what he was looking at only made him impossibly harder. He hadn't requested this. You were bringing this into the bedroom entirely of your own volition, because you wanted to use it on him, and that thought alone made Oswald dizzy.

At this point, he was convinced that there was almost nothing he wouldn't eagerly let you do to him. While he had gotten a lot better about it over the course of your relationship, there would always be some lingering doubts as to whether you were only with him to use him, or worse, out of pity. So, if you wanted to do something that normally wouldn't interest him, that only made it all the more appealing. He could know with certainty that you were doing it for yourself, and that, no matter how hard it was to imagine, he was desired.

Oswald was wrenched from his thoughts by your hand settling gently on his thigh, and he couldn't help but gasp softly at the touch. God, he must look so pathetic like this, and yet, he couldn't find it in himself to care.

"Ozzy?" You set the clamshell down on the bed so that you could hold the toy in both hands. "Do you know what this is?"

Oswald shook his head, eyes widening as he took in the sight properly. It was even more intimidating up close, and he had to bite his cheek to keep from moaning out loud.

"You can touch it, if you'd like. It's called an ovipositor." He tentatively reached out to touch the bumpy surface, and you smiled before opening the clamshell. Inside were yellow, translucent eggs. "These are made from gelatin. That way they'll dissolve if they get stuck."

"Get... stuck..." Oswald looked between the eggs and the toy as it slowly dawned on him what it was designed to do. A shiver ran down his spine and he squirmed in place. "Oh, lord have mercy..."

You snickered at his reaction, but he was too dazed to care. You squeezed his hand lightly to pull him out of it. "Colour, baby?"

His eyes flicked up to meet yours and he swallowed, nodding once. "Green. Very green."

You brought his hand up to your lips and kissed his fused knuckles gently, smiling at how his already red face turned nearly purple in embarrassment. "Alright. Don't hesitate to tell me if it's too much, okay?"

Oswald nodded, breath quickening as you nudged his legs apart once again. He heard the squelch of lube being squeezed onto your fingers, but even with that warning, he still jolted when he felt your fingers press against his hole.

"Please..." he whispered, though what he was begging for, he wasn't sure.

You smiled down at him, and Oswald had to close his eyes to keep from swooning. As always, he opened up beautifully for you, eagerly accepting your fingers as his hole readily stretched to take more, as though he had been made for this. You'd mentioned that last bit more than once before, and even as he hit your shoulder indignantly in response, his cock invariably betrayed him.

Now, though, you decided to spare him the teasing, and he was silently grateful for it. He was already showing you far more vulnerability than he'd be comfortable with were it anyone else. Still, that didn't stop him from arching his back with a soft wheeze when he felt your fingers brush against his prostate.

His eyes opened a fraction, still heavily lidded, and he looked up at you with an embarrassing squeak. His eyes flicked down to the toy in your hands and he licked his lips in anticipation.

"You ready, honey?" Your voice pierced through his haze like an arrow and he sucked in a breath. He waited for a moment before answering, wanting to drink in every moment, every soft gaze and kind word, until they drowned the ghosts of his past in their sacchirine flood.

He was not, however, a patient man, so it was only a few seconds before he was nodding frantically, biting his lip until a metallic tang burst on his tongue. He knew how pathetic he must look, how ashamed he ought to be, and yet, with you, he couldn't bring himself to care. Need washed over him like an oppressive cloak and his mind could only repeat you, you, you in a broken prayer.

Slowly, (far more slowly than Oswald would have liked, and yet, the strange tenderness of it could make him cry), you began to inch the toy into him. It started off easy. Most of the toy was smooth and gently tapered, so it slid into him with little resistance, and for a moment, he allowed himself to relax.

Then he reached the knot. The toy doubled in girth at the base, and Oswald threw his head back against the pillow with a soft thump, choking on his own spit. The bumps were tantalizingly prominent, and he swore he could count every single one of them as they dragged along his inner walls. His hands scrambled for purchase on the sheets and he keened helplessly, his hips twitching and writhing of their own accord, only to cause the toy to shift inside of him and repeat the cycle all over again.

Once he had taken it in to hilt, you stopped, allowing him to get used to the new sensations. By this point, he was babbling incoherently and his chest was red and splotchy from arousal. You smiled down at him and cupped his cheek in your hand, and he leaned into it without even seeming to realize it.

"Colour, Ozzy?"

His forehead crinkled in dismay at having to try to get something coherent to leave his mouth, but he managed a weak, "G-green..."

You smiled your approval, and Oswald felt like he was flying. Then the toy began to move.

The sounds leaving Oswald's lips as you fucked him with the ovipositor were absolutely broken, and it took him a moment to even realize they were coming from himself. It was all too much, far too much, and yet if you stopped, he thought he might die. The toy plunged deep inside if him, but the knot was what really broke him. It slid in and out, stretching his hole to the limit and then suddenly releasing it in rapid succession. It was so fast, so brutal, and yet the dramatic texture ensured that he felt everything. Squeals that he would surely be embarrassed by later fell freely from his throat and he alternated between begging for you to slow down and fuck him harder. You did neither. You took him at the pace you wanted, and when your free hand held his hips in a bruising grasp to stop them from moving, he could only moan.

"You're such a good boy. Taking it so well for me," you cooed, your gentle tone juxtaposed painfully against what you were doing, "Do you want me to pump you full of eggs, baby? Want me to breed you?"

And fuck, he never stood a chance, did he?

Oswald was too lost in his own pleasure to respond verbally, but he nodded desperately, and you noted the way he squirmed with every word. You smirked as you realized you may have awoken something in him.

"Yeah? You want to carry my eggs for me? Incubate them just like a real penguin?"

Okay, maybe that last part was a little silly, and you snorted internally, but Oswald didn't seem to notice. His eyes were glazed over and hazy and could only whimper in response, reaching up to cling to your shoulders with trembling hands.

You lined one of the gelatin eggs up with the ovipositor and pushed it down the tube. Oswald cried out and kicked his legs frenetically. He could feel the egg as a lump inside the toy slowly working its way to the tip, as though it were pulsating. When the egg popped out the tip, he felt it slide in deep as his hole swallowed it down greedily. Vaguely, your comment about the potential for the eggs getting stuck echoed in his mind, and he moaned at the thought.

One by one, you pushed the eggs through the ovipositor slowly, watching him writhe and gasp with every one. By the time you were lining up the last egg, tears were blurring his vision. He felt so full, in ways that he had never experienced before, and he was holding his orgasm back by his fingernails.

"P-please... please... I-I need..."

You smiled at his incohesive prattling and bent down to kiss his forehead, noting how he whined just as sharply at the affection as if you had grabbed his dick.

"Just one more, Ozzy. Just take one more egg and you can cum. Think you can do that for me?" you said gently, running your free hand through his hair. You were getting it greasy with lube, but with how much he was sweating at this point, it didn't seem to matter much.

His breath was quivering and he looked on the verge of weeping, but he nodded meekly in response.

"Good boy."

The praise sent a shudder down his spine, and it took all of his concentration to hold back as he felt the slow movement of the egg inside of the toy working its way into him. He looked absolutely wreaked, and as soon as he felt the soft pop of the egg being pushed out of the toy, he screeched in white-hot pleasure and finally allowed his climax to overtake him. His whole body convulsed as he rode it out, almost looking as though he was being electrocuted, and you couldn't help but take hold of the toy to fuck him through it.

For Oswald, the next several minutes were an exhausted blur, and the next thing he knew, he had been cleaned off with a wet towel and was curled up against your chest. He clung to you with slow, shuddering breaths and slowly looked up to meet your gaze.

"Good?"

He nodded his assent and hid his face in your shoulder once again. "Mm. Very good." His voice was hoarse, and he found himself being gently pulled away from you to have a water bottle held to his lips. He begrudgingly took a few sips, then returned to his prior position with a soft sigh.

"You did so well for me, my sweet boy," you said with a smile as you put the bottle back on the end table, then began to gently play with his hair, "I wasn't easy on you, but you took it so beautifully for me. I love seeing you come undone."

Oswald grumbled, vaguely embarrassed, but you could feel his smile against your skin.

"Hey, you know I love you, right?" You cupped his face in his hands and gently nudged his chin upwards so that your eyes met. His cheeks were red, but he looked content.

"I do," he agreed quietly, and that alone made your heart soar before he could even say it back. It had taken you ages to reach this point, to gently repair the trust that had been shattered by so many others before you. Still, your chest did warm as you heard his meek: "And I love you."

You ran your fingers along his cheekbones to his temples as you leaned forward to gently kiss the tip of his nose, torn between finding the broken gasp it elicited adorable or heartbreaking. Even with how far you've come, it would take far more for him to truly believe that he was worthy of love. You knew that. But until that day came, you'd just have to love him enough for the both of you.