#its between this and just a really heavy degradation scene of some sort

[satancopilotsmytardis]

What if Evil daddy kink? What if Tomura sees Dabi is super fucked up and obsessed with his family so he makes Dabi his baby boy but does it in a fucked up abusive way that makes it harder and harder for him to come out of his subspace? I still don't want to do age regression just age play, but him knowing that when he tries to stop role-playing between sessions that it feels so much worse that he just decides to give up on being anything but Shigaraki's baby boy until he thinks he can successfully escape. Dabi getting a lot of spankings, not being allowed to choose anything for himself, and struggling with how degrading it is, but at the same time knowing that the constant attention is something he's craved all his life is breaking him down by inches and making it so hard for him to remember that he needs to make this stop. His emotional control getting worse and worse because the new abuse is layering over his past trauma until he's such a mess he can't function without his Daddy at all anymore

[tokkiwrites]

fIRE NECTAR : Qu’est-ce que l’incassable ?

➛ in which the allure & danger of one man makes you question all but your heart.

ʕ•̫͡•ʔ c.w : 18+ joel miller x afab reader, fem reader, no outbreak au, mob boss joel (kind of), stalking themes, mention of cheating, alcohol, violence, some angst, age gap, mentions of infatuation, p in v sex unprotected, pet names, degradation, f and m receiving, knife play, mentions of blood, mentions of being pure. (the pic doesn't represent readers body, its there just for the aesthetics. lmk if i missed anything) not proofread

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'Perfect is a word lost at the bottom of wine bottles perfect is a foreign word, to me. you and i both have uncountable mistakesㅡ lost wars. i want to be your good, but I dont want to be what im not. I'd surrender my arms, I'd lose all fights.. for you.'

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everyone says you're lucky. lucky you have what most only dream ofㅡ You've been with your boyfriend for almost 5 years now. You two met when you were only 19, and he was 20. life has been great. You're even planning on moving in together on your 5th year anniversary, buying a pet, and spending more time with one another. you can't express the happiness you feelㅡ or felt, better said.

it's been six months. six grueling months that have kept you up wondering if this is what you really want, who you really want. it was all so peaceful until it wasn't. until you met him.

enter Joel Miller, the man who beat the shit out af a creep who tried to touch you when you were out with your friends at a club. that happened six months ago. six months ago and a few hours. you'd been lying if you said seeing someone bloodied up because they wanted to protect you didn't pull at your heart.

your encounter with Joel was short and sweet, unfortunately. you told the officers at the scene he was the reason you turned out safe and that you think he's a nice man for that, scrunching up their nose as they tried to make sense of what you just said: Joel Miller a nice man? maybe when alseep, all though even in he sleeps, he's probably dreaming of destroying everything in his way.

Police prefer not to entangle with him. they did it many times, but when he hit 35, doing the same shit they gave upㅡ sort of making a pact for the sake of everyone's well-being. He was a nice man. Losing loved ones and years got to him, the wrong people got to him first, and so he built his own life climbing the steps of crime.

He was a nice man.

You hate it when you do this. You go outside more often than you did 6 months ago to that same spot ㅡ where you first and last saw him. you don't go at night, but after you finish work every day, hoping he's searching for you like you are for him. it's like a fix, and he's the drug, only you had no time to indulge into him.only the image of his bloodied knuckles projecting onto your closed eyelids as you fall asleep next to your boyfriend.

ㅡ

As the neon lights flickered against the rain-soaked streets, you found yourself standing outside the club. Your heart raced as you pushed open the heavy doors, the bass thumping through your veins. "Hey, beautiful," a smooth voice whispered in your ear. You turned to see Joel, his dark eyes smoldering with intensity. "I've been waiting for you."

"I shouldn't be here, Joel," you protested weakly, torn between loyalty to your boyfriend and the magnetic pull of this dangerous man. He chuckled, a shadowed glint in his eyes. "But you couldn't stay away, could you?" You bit your lip, feeling the weight of his gaze like chains around your heart. "I need to leave," you said, but your feet refused to move.

"You just got here, baby." Joel urged, his voice low and persuasive. "Just one drink." Against your better judgment, you found yourself nodding, allowing him to lead you deeper into the pulsating club.

You swallowed hard, the guilt of betraying your boyfriend warring with the intoxicating thrill of being with Joel. "I can't do this," you whispered, but even as the words left your lips, you knew they were a lie. Joel's lips quirked into a knowing smile. " not foolin' anyone, sweetheart," he said, his voice sending shivers through your body.

ㅡ

Before you could respond, the sound of your phone goes off, causing you to wake up. Your eyes shoot open, turning to see if your boyfriend is yet awake. his side is empty, only the wrinkles on the sheets remembering his presence. As you reach for your phone, its vibrant screen illuminates the dimly lit room, casting shadows that dance across the walls. With a delicate touch, you unlock the device, revealing a text from your almost beloved:

The words, though tender, fail to dispel the lingering echoes of Joel's presence in your mind. Your brain flickers back to the dream and the moment you met Joel, its façade a beacon amidst the city's nocturnal.

── had to leave early, sorry for that, babe. Can't wait to see you tonight. Love you ❤️

The memory of Joel's voice, velvety and commanding, resonates in the recesses of your consciousness, a siren's call luring you into the depths of uncertainty. Despite your protestations, the tendrils of temptation coil around your resolve, entwining with the delicate fibers of loyalty that bind you to your partner. With each heartbeat, the dichotomy of emotions swirls within, a tempestuous maelstrom of desire and guilt, desire Joel, and guilt for the betrayal it entails.

And yet, beneath the veneer of steadfast resolve lies a flicker of uncertainty, a gnawing doubt that whispers of the inevitability of succumbing to the intoxicating pull of his magnetism. In the depths of your soul, you grapple with the unsettling truth that the want you feel for Joel might stem from something deeperㅡ it was something carnal. It consumed you for so long.

his gaze, a smoldering ember amidst the darkness, kindles flames of longing that lick at the edges of your conscience. his eyes that cut like knives.

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'About time you escaped, imprisoned isn't what I'd imagine you'd want your heart to be written upon.'

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Amidst the throng of pedestrians, a familiar silhouette emergedㅡ him. it felt like seeing an old friend. no, like finding an old toy that brought you joy. only that toy was stolen, which is why you had to hide it; hide it so good you had to forget about it.

With a jolt of recognition, your gaze locked with his, a fleeting moment suspended in the maelstrom of time. 'Will he recognize me?' Joel's eyes, obsidian pools that mirrored the depths of your soul, held a myriad of emotions: recognition, intrigue, and perhaps, a hint of longing. at least you hoped so. wanted so.

With a wistful smile, Joel broke the spell that bound you, his voice a melodic symphony amidst the murmur of the city. "Happy to see you're fine." You returned his smile, a fragile facade that masked the tempest of emotions raging within. "Why wouldn't I be?" you replied, your voice a whisper lost.

"I was honestly thinking something might have happened after that night...seeing that you almost always visit the club." he quirks his eyebrows. "nothing happened." but it did. he ripped the heart out of you and kissed it goodbye all at once, leaving you to deal with it all whilst he carried on with his drug escapades and crime shenanigans. nevertheless, you smile, swallowing back your own thoughts as it seemed.

"I've been following you, y'know?" joel admits.

my, and what a strong grasp he has onto your heart right now.

"You'veㅡ seriously?" why did you sound happy? when joel tells someone this, their first reaction is to go wide-eyed and back out. but it is rare that he feels such a pull towards someone. someone like you. maybe you reminded him of when he was so untaintedㅡ the thought of danger strangling him to the point he couldn't help but give in. "Tell me why."

you've been caught. isn't this what you wanted?

"I- uhm...I don'tㅡ"

"Don't even bother lying. What would an angel like you want from someone-" joel steps closer. "like me." a sense of inevitability washed over you. you were reminded of the immutable truth. The words, uttered with a conviction born of desperation. "It's you that i need." you can't believe your own courage. maybe you were just drunk on his scent.

they slip past your lips like a plea. absolution and complete submission, you surrendered. this was your god, the one you've prayed for all those nights when your boyfriend was fast asleep. it was wrong, but oh, how sweet, like honey wrong is. you weren't scared to kick everything away for a mere second of this. just a touch of his fingertips. that's all. you found solace in that.

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"Do you wanna go back to my place, sugar?"

'Love is an apple, and i am the serpent forcing it down my throat.'

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rough, red, and raw. that's how his kisses were. he made no stop until he had you splayed over his bed. he was eating you with every stare, like a predator. you needed him to do something, dive into you. it was carnal.

"If you wanna stop, just say so, yeah?" joel causes you to look back up at him. nipping at your lower lip, you spread your legs further apart as to invite him further. "I want you to hurt me, Joel." and how could he refuse you? you looked so pure and beautiful all spread under him, waiting for his command. "that so." and you whimper a pathetic 'mhm'.

"I never made you out to be this kinda girl, all though ㅡ" he retracts, reaching out into his back pocket to take out his switchblade. "I don't mind it." joel chuckles before yanking you up by your hair and pulling you to the ground. "Kneel." he commands. and you obliged, intoxicated from his presence alone. "This what you want? huh?" he asks, traching your neck with the tip of the knife as you shiver. "pathetic slut. forgot you've got a man at home?" he taunts "bet you've been dreamin' bout me stuffing you up with my cock, yeah?"

you nod, eager not to let him slip through your fingers. "Yeah.." he drags the kife down, cutting through your top, knicking your skin and exposing your breasts. the slight pain drowns you as you press your thighs together. "Look at that." he tuts, mocking as he drags the knife over the small cut to gather the blood, bringing it up to your mouth.

"lick" and lick you do, swirling your tongue around the blade, keeping eye contact as the metal aroma washed over your tastebuds. "atta girl. good little slut." joel chuckles as he proceeds to unbuckle his pants. "now imma let you suck my cock, butㅡ" after hes done freeing his shaft from his briefs he holds the knife up to the side of your neck. "if you stop I'll make sure you won't like it."

you weren't scared at all. maybe it was from all of the time you spent yearning that totally disrupted your sense of fearㅡ You wanted to make him proud and not regret what he'd done until now.

so you take his member into your mouth, slowly sucking on the tip before trying to take more. you lied if you said he wasn't huge, your jaw already hurting once you made it halfway. the knife was still digging at your skin, his eyes fixed on your every move. moving you head up and down, you felt as joels muscles tensed, his breath growing shallow as he snaked his free hand around your hair again.

"Just like that. yeah, keep doin' that.." tears well up in your eyes as your core tightness, still not dwelling on you that you're on your knees, sucking Joels dick whilst he holds you at knifepoint. "ok, thats enough, angel-baby." he pushes you back, motioning you back onto the bed. " all fours."

"n-no.." You muster up. "What's that?" joel furrowed his brows. "Not all fours..wanna see your face." You stare up at him, and you swear you saw his gaze softened. "what the fuck are you doin' to me, girl..?" he laughs, pulling you up and placing you on the bed, the sheets enveloping you.

"been dreamin' about this, baby. look at you..." he groans, undressing your delicate skin. "you're a fuckin' dream." he trails kisses from your stomach to your knee and traces his nose back up to your lips before he crashes his onto them.

you cling onto that kiss, it awakes you from the deepest hole on earth, pulls you to the heaven, then plummets you down againㅡ you needed this.

joel breaks from the kiss, sitting like that for a second. he then traces his digits between your folds that dripped with desire. "so wet for me, angel. all f'me.."

"please, mmhg.." whining, you try to rub yourself onto his fingers, but he quickly slaps you again, this time on the side of your thigh. "don't be a greedy whore." he clicks his tongue before leaning down spreading your pussy lips as he does, blowing onto your sensitive clit. you jump and moan in frustration. "i know, baby, i know." he spreads your legs further, finally landing a soft and teasing lick between your folds. it doesn't take long for joel to go at it, sucking and licking at your cunt like theres no tomorrow, your desperate pleads to come only fueling him. "not yet, angel-baby." he gorans, picking himself up.

"please fuck me, Joel." you plead. "needy thing." and with that he lines himself up with your hole and eases in. your whole body vibrates as a sting spreads through you, and you squeeze around Joel. "fuckㅡ so fuckin' tight." he moans before plunging straight into you. your tongue luls out, tears on the brink of your eyes as you cand only squeal out pathetic moans and incoherent blathers. "shitㅡ ! squeezing me so good, baby."

joel fucks into you harder and harder, the bed creaking whilst you let him take over you. he grabs your hips pushing himself even deeper into your cunt, groaning when you arch your back, breasts perking up. "fucking angel. my pure angel." ㅡ you can only moan and cry as you feel your orgasm approaching. desperately, you clench around his cock, sending joel into a frenzy.

"gonna come, baby?" he's stern and rough with his request. "hhhaㅡ y-yes, plea-se..." you don't know if you're crying because you feel too good or because of how long you've waited for this.

"gonna come soㅡ fukin' deep inside of you- shit!" he almost growls, and you not your head dizzy. "p-leasee...insideㅡ!" and you don't wait more than two more seconds as joel spills his warm seed inside, painting every inch of you. he leans down, leaving a tired kiss upon your forehead.

"go ahead, angel-baby." you writhe as the knots in your core begin to untie, shaking under joel whilst he fucks you through it. it doesn't take long for him to reach his limit, digging his nails through your thighs, gritting his teeth and moaning your name.

"thank you."

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'wandering companionless, I've finally found you.'

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⏜⃞♡⠀⠀🐰 hey, guyyyyssss, i honestly dont know what this is. It's kind of shitty but i wanted to try writing something more. i incorporated some verses of poems i wrote, so i hope you enjoyed it!!! love ya

[murasakispace]

Adam/Shindo Ainosuke X Male Reader

Author's note : Adam needs a bit of love, don't you think? A little love that doesn't imply to hurt Tadashi. It doesn't prevent that it is certainly crap. English is not my main language and it must be awful.

Warnings : NSFW, spanking, degradation and all the BDSM pack.

You were a newcomer, a rookie here. In S. You had the time to watch the local legends fall from their safe sky on the large screens. The most incredible was the race against Langa. Well... You were still wondering if his name was really Langa. Maybe you misunderstood, hidden in your shadows. First Joe, then Cherry and finally Adam. You had to admit their style was eclectic. Even them had to learn again. They were believing themselves as gods because they were the founders of a clandestin course. It made you shrug a little while you were observing them.

People were people. Here, in S, freedom was at its most powerful. A place were no one could say, order to someone something he doesn't want to do. Everything was ruled by skateboard and the people's talent. You were quite happy of that. Because of an accident years ago in mountains with your motorbike while you were heading to the summit so as to practice snowboard. You had the ambition to reach the Winter Olympic Games in half-pipe. You fell from a cliff and you miraculously landed meters below with broken ribs instead of your backbone.

During years you suffered and your dream of medals in the Olympic Games was gone, vanished into the air. Your well-known recklessness almost hurried you in your grave. In the hospital, you spent the last three years to reeducate with an omnipresent pain in your back, anger against the people who had forgotten you when you would have given them your soul if they asked for it an ended alone. You nearly lost your mind when you woke up from coma and nothing appeared in front of you. You weren't able to see anymore. Time went by and you found yourself offered the chance to remedy to your blindness. But it doomed you to wear particular sunglasses every day of your life. A little cost considering what you've been through.

You suffered. You were still aching but less than these last month. Moreover you felt better each day passing. Only eternal scars remain. And to be here in S got you like you were free as much as before your accident. And you would thank Adam for this. Yet, you meant nothing, watching the same scenes which were playing in front of your eyes.

You were sitting on your motorbike far behind the last people composing the crowds ahead of you. Actually, the last time you came at S was when Adam had been defeated. Since then, you weren't coming as often as you should now. Everything was more peaceful and Adam abandoned this bad habit to smash people in the face with his own skateboard. Of course, the blue-haired show-off would never stop to make his little shows and big entrances. You don't think that one day his "hey bitches and bros and non-binary hoes" would leave your mind so easily.

Yet, even if you admired Adam as an remarkable skater, you wouldn't prevent yourself to hate him for everything he was aside all of it. He was "in love" as he told to anyone who would like to hear it with his partners of race. It was nothing like love. You didn't know how you manage to not go through the crowds to slap him right in the face. He didn't understand. He wouldn't anyway. Love is sweet, a fluttering sentiment which set upside-down your guts and your soul. It wasn't how you remembered this wonderful thing.

Anyways, Adam had been defeated by a rookie that you had the power to crush on a snowboard. Even if he was talented, had he the talent of someone able to go in the Olympic Games? You didn't think so. You had yourself a modified board. And right now before the attended race between two opponents, you were as if you were playing on the half-pipe near the start of the race.

You were jumping even higher than this little rookie and executing figures in air that were turning sick some of the people gathered in your audience. You were hearing the slight gasps of awe coming from several girls watching them. Even Langa applaused you in the distance with an annoying smile. That little group comprehending Shadow, Reki, Langa, Miya and the others was sincerely uselessly noisy. Though, they were sometimes giving you back a smile you had long forgotten it was existing. But you didn't care anymore. You were busy with your "switched back flip with nose grab" and to make people applause even louder around you.

They were kind and cute because even if the trick wasn't so hard, doing it on a skateboard was something else. And it earned you the nickname of Eagle in S. You were impressive to say the least and people were clearly stunned. What you didn't expect was to attract the boss' attention here. Adam. Actually, his little grieves left you as if you were like marble.

Not only was he sticking to you but he also was quite insisting in his behavior. You didn't like him at all. It may have been the second or the third night that you came on the half-pipe of S. No one challenged you that time. You just shrugged your shoulders and were going on the way to leave this place. The pressure, the people gathered here, the races and the clear lack of delicacy from them made you get away from here. A sort of repulsion ordered you to go away. A skatepark would be big enough to allow you to do the same show for any passerby. After all what was the point of tiring yourself by skating if no one could applause for your demonstration of pure talent. And today, several nights after Adam's defeat, you were leaving S for good this time. It has no point for you to stay.

Yet, Adam didn't want the same. He was observing you before Langa. So he caught you up while lights were dancing around him.

"Mmh... What a wonderful little bird I see here. Don't be scared my dove, I'm not going to bite you." Adam said both loudly and sensually, thus it made crowds look in the same moment towards you.

A heavy silence has just fallen onto the crowds. You have heard the wheels of Adam's skateboard behind you. And he came, leaving his hand on your hips, getting you closer and closer to him. You could feel his hands roaming and doing delicate circles on the fabric of your clothes. Such an intimate action while you could almost feel his head rest on your shoulder. He made a little comment about your scent. Does this man have really no shame ?

"Aren't you tired of your own bullshit, Adam? Losing once wasn't enough to bring humility in you?" you snapped back while the man gazed at you.

"Never, my sweet, stubborn little dove" Ainosuke whispered in your ear while his hands were circling around your waists.

His sweet, gentle, poisonous tone was near to give you shivers. You weren't able to discern within yourself if it was a sort of trespassing desire that was boiling in you or a fire of rage and the deep will to smash him with your skateboard. Probably both. Let's agree on the fact that this man was a living invitation to luxury and rough love. You were just a little smaller than him but strong enough to make him comply and kneel in front of you like a slut. You clicked your tongue and forcefully escaped from Adam's treacherous embrace.

"Alright Eagle. I challenge you into a beef" Adam called behind you.

"Carry on" You answered back while the crowds become immediately silent were watching you with great interest.

"A race. You and me. Right now. The loser become the slave of his opponent." Adam added with his usual disturbing smile.

For one of the first times since you were coming in S, it was one of your first beefs. Moreover, with the boss of all that mess. And finally, it involved something hidden behind all of this display. And you liked it. Why not enjoying fully the race and the aftermath. You used the back extremity of your skateboard you hit Adam in the belly and making him move backwards. You were almost ecstatic. You walked calmly until the start line, put lightly your skateboard on the ground and set your foot on the deck while you were waiting for Adam to come. Obviously, he made his way towards you.

"Mmh... I'll enjoy to turn you upside down after this race" Adam sensually whispered.

"Your self-confidence will kill you one day, filthy man" you replied with a dry tone.

"Let's say that now that I've lost my Eve, the only person in S having my attention is you my little dove. Be ready, I'm not going to be easy on you"

These last sentences would the death of you. His magma-like voice was burning your insides. How can someone warm you up so efficiently? That was a mystery. But you liked it. Adam was well-known to be kinky. You hated a little yourself at that time. You were falling for an insane guy who is now targeting you. Obviously, it was not in a romantic way. Yet, Adam remained a reachable fanstasm. And you were apparently one of his. The green fire came rapidly, thus the start of the race.

Adam became fastly the first. You forgot about everything and just tried to have fun. You were skating as if your board was a part of yourself, dodging rocks and Adam's attack. You knew very well that he didn't change that much after his first defeat here. He even did his little thing of holding you close to him with the sort of horns on his skateboard.

" I love the movement of your hips, so agile, so smooth, I can't prevent myself to wonder what it will feel like to love you fully until you will ache for attention under my touch. You are a snowboarder too, right?" Adam asked more or less.

"You could say that. But I'm not like that kid. I prefer half-pipes. Besides, you have really no shame, haven't you? Anyways, goodbye."

You increased your speed and left Adam behind. You were jumping the cliffs where the turns formed the shape of a snake with the lights in the night. While you were flying, you were shining with more and more complicated figures and graceful landings, making you significantly ahead of the blue-haired holy creature named Adam. He managed very quickly to catch you up. A little smile was playing on your lips. That was funny to see him a little bit in difficulty.

You were provoking him. That was unbelievable and remarkably bold of you to do so. You annoying smile was allowing to build desire and longing in Adam's heart. He was the king and yet, a little dove was playing with him shamelessly. Adam was so mesmerized by your own race that he barely realized he was in the factory. The screams of the people gathered in there dragged him from his thoughts. He saw you fly until the finish line and cross it. You win against him. A huge silent welcomed him.

"One of the first things you have not to lose when you run is your own concentration. I don't know what happened to you but it doesn't prevent that you weren't really skating. So for the beef, I cancel the slave thing." You declared when Adam went towards you.

You turned your back to him and headed to your motorbike followed by the blue-haired man. You didn't want to stay any longer. Adam's footsteps were soft behind yours.

"How can you cancel the slave thing, as you called it?" Adam demanded.

Seeing that he didn't have any answer, Adam reached you to catch your shoulder and make you turn to look at him.

"Because I'm the winner" you responded with a threatening tone.

"So having me doesn't interest you?" Adam questioned with a spark of deception.

"I didn't say that" you replied with a playful half-smile crossing your lips.

You were surrounded by darkness and no one cared anymore about you. For the people, you were remedying with your little issues about the beef. Nothing very interesting for them. Your hand climbed Adam's tensed thigh before going backwards to his ass and caressing it shamelessly. You heard the man getting a heavier breath and mumbling sinner sentences in your ear. You didn't even move when he came closer to enjoy the caress.

"Adam... You are such a slut... Look at you, you sound like a virgin discovering sex" You told with an incredible amount of heat on your voice.

You left your fingers coming down on his half-hard dick and rub it lightly. Just enough to give shivers to the man.

"Horny, aren't we?" you carried on while Adam was melting under your touch.

It was only simple caresses yet the man in front of you was letting himself go as if you were escaping and he won't have anymore opportunities to have you so close.

"More" demanded Adam while he has finally what he wanted so hard.

But you stopped here, creating frustration in the man.

"There's a love hotel down Crazy Rock. Come with your Grim Reaper costume." You requested with an overbearing tone.

Adam ordered to Tadashi who wasn't present in S that night to bring him to this place and the black clothes he was wearing against Langa. Once arrived in the building, he headed towards the receptionist who led him until the room. The space was dark and very classical for a love hotel but it was enough to arouse Adam. He felt as if your hands were still on him while he was changing his red costume. The memory of your hands trailing down his back to reach his ass and caressing it shamelessly was still unbelievably strong in his mind. Then he felt the touch join his cock, gently but still enough to make surrender to your touch. He desired you so much right now. Once he wore his Grim Reaper clothes, he laid down the mattress. He let himself go to the warmth he was feeling. He already wanted you so hard. He thought he was still dreaming when he felt the sudden touch of your hand on his neck.

"Ready to cum due to a shameless imagination. What a dirty little pet we have here. Were you planning to touch while you would wait for me? " You whispered in Adam's ear, getting him to have goosebumps.

Your fingers went down along his spine then reached the start of his ass. You were riding him from behind, each of your legs apart Ainosuke's body. You spanked his cheeks violently when you see you wouldn't get your answer, making the man moaning of both pain and pleasure.

"Use your tongue. You still have one, right?" you picked up after this unwanted silence.

"Yes" mumbled the submitted man.

"Louder. I don't hear you."you commanded.

"Yes"

He was speaking at the volume you wanted to listen. Loudly but not enough to disturb people out there.

"Better" you acknowledged with a neutral tone.

You got away from the position you have over Ainosuke. You were looking for the bad you brought with you. In the corner of your eye, you remarked the presence of a mirror. It could be useful but not now. You were secretly impatient to play with the king of S. You glanced at him and couldn't prevent a half-smile on your face. His hips were slightly higher than what would be normal. The blue-haired man was aching for your touch. Unhappily, it seemed sometimes you weren't as mean as some of masters with their human pet when it comes to tough, rough and painful but delicious sex. Well... It didn't matter actually. Your beautiful puppy lying on the mattress would love it anyway. You sincerely enjoyed the fact that this natural dominant male was completely under your control.

"Get up and kneel. Be rid of your clothes and keep your eyes on the wall. If you look at me I leave you here, tied and with a toy in your ass until you faint. Is that clear?" You ordered with a severe voice.

You didn't get any answer immediately.

"Yes". You heard behind you.

"Yes who?" You added.

"Yes Master" Adam ended while he just worked to be in his knees over the blankets.

The man got rid of his suit not so quickly. The fabric was comfortable and smooth, suiting perfectly his body. The memory of your touch was almost disappearing with him leaving aside all the clothes. He ended naked on the bed, his pale skin revealed to the air. He kept his eyes locked on the wall and he didn't have any access to the mirror to watch what you were doing. He only heard some noises somewhere behind him. Adam was shivering litghtly because of anticipation. He didn't want you to be kind with him. The rougher the better. Anyways, love and pain were both the faces of a coin, right? He submits but you serve.

Ainosuke felt your hand climbing along his leg and rest a few seconds on his thigh. You slided a lubed toy in his hole. You went as deeply as you could without bruising you pet and without leaving without any sensations. His insides were slightly stretched enough to emphasize the rubbing which you started from a few feets away.

You had the time to change in a black leathery pants and high boots, all black, with an open shirt lazily flying along your sides. After that, you were just watching Ainosuke's nakedness from behind. He was well-shaped. You couldn't say more. And this beautiful insane man was craving for your attention. You knew the effect the toy had. The more Adam was holding back his moan, the more the toy is going to make him lose his mind. You knew very well that the man had a certain endurance. Yet, it had no effect when the right points within his body were touched and loved.

You were still gentle. You could be more cruel and less careful about your little pet. Adam knew it very well. He was sure he looked like a little virgin taking pleasure for the first time but the thing inside of him suppressed all of his strength. He was grunting and moaning like a whore and he loved it. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't you.

"More..." Breathed the man while his whole body was totally shaking.

"More? Really?" you asked while you were enjoying the frustration on Adam's face and the red hue on his cheeks.

"Inside me... Touch me..."you went to caress Ainosuke's naked ass before spanking it another time.

"You have no permission to cum, dirty pet. I'll punish you otherwise."you warned with a threatening tone in your voice.

The heat was slightly consuming the blue-haired man and pleasure was way too heavy for him, almost choking sometimes. You would be the death of him if it carried on.

"Please..."Adam silently begged while you were heading to an armchair not far away from the display in front of you.

Were you sadistic? Probably. You had one of your legs hanging on the side of your seat and watching Ainosuke fighting the destroying pleasure inside of him. You were so desirable. No one would ever say the contrary. It was only the start for your adorable pet. But it wasn't enough for you.

"Come here." You commanded with a monotonous but commanding tone in your voice.

You saw Adam moving to reach you. He stumbled on the few meters he had to make to come at you. He knelt in front of you but it sounded more like he wasn't able to carry his own weigh. He was looking up at you with eyes tainted of pleasure. He caressed your legs as any good cat would do to please his master and get some food or any touch. Your hand reached his chin and you lift it without any delicacy. A few more and Adam was going to surrender and leaving himself being overwhelmed by pleasure. His red eyes were blurry and full of lust and you locked yours on his. Your hand went in his hair and you brought him closer to you.

"Take it. And do it well, slut" you requested with an overbearing tone.

You felt shaking hands roaming over your leather pants and undo the belts resting on your hips. His fingers freed your half-hard dick but he was too slow.

"Faster" you ordered.

Adam put his finger on the skin of your shaft, then his lips. You hardly held back a grunt of pleasure while you were feeling his hot mouth around your cock. That was divine but not enough. You settled your fingers in Ainosuke's hair and pulled it closer.

"Come on, slut"

The blue-haired man wasn't slow but it wasn't fast enough and it frustrated you. You ordered him for more speed and he did it. Adam was all focus on your pleasure, worshipping you with his tongue and his lips. It was warm inside his mouth. You wanted to dirty your sub with your seeds and make him feel like a doll in your hands. Besides, you increased the speed of the toy inside Adam's ass. He was fighting tou bring you pleasure and not to cum. His whole body must ache but you didn't really care. You wanted more. You helped a little Ainosuke with his movements. His tongue was caressing you shamelessly, and he was all focused on you. You were almost fucking his throat.

"You are really a whore my pet. Worse than a dog in heat. Loot at you"

You led his eyes to the mirror not far from you. Adam moaned when he saw the image of himself. The red hue on his cheeks while he was taking your cock into his mouth. The sight was mesmerizing. Then, lower, the pre-sperm was dripping from his own sex. Adam wasn't able to suffer it anymore and the last image had been the death of his limits and he cummed lankily on the ground. His muscles all tensed relaxed in a few seconds. He spilled his white liquid everywhere at the bottom of the armchair while he was moaning with your shaft still in his throat.

You raised your hand and gave him an echoing slap which made the blue-haired man fall on his back, covered of his dirty sperm. You perceived Adam hard cock raising between his legs.

"Kinky whore. You are not even able to handle it, right? Such a disobedient little puppy. You'll be punished, you know that, aren't you?" you threatened with a sweet voice, penetrating under Ainosuke's flesh.

You were watching your pet getting up from his position on the ground.

"Be happy that I'm not going to order you to lick it, silly kitten. On the bed, now. Twenty whiplash, and if you are not obedient, I'll double that number. Understood?"

"Please Master, no!" Adam surprisingly begged with and hoarse voice to you.

"This is the cost for your insolence and disobedience. It could be a hundred so take what I allow you" You replied without any softness.

You gave the order to your dog to be astride on the bed, on all four. Adam settled over the blankets and stayed still. The man heard you get the tool in your hand. And without telling him, he felt a painful burn on his ass, followed by your hand which rubbed it. Ainosuke heard himself grunt to the sudden soothing caress.

"It was the first. I won't be that kind after. Count them. At any mistake, It'll be thirty"

You blowed him again and your sub was counting but it was painful and red traces were appearing on his skin. You weren't soft with him and appreciated his delicious reactions of suffering and adoration. The toy was still in his ass, driving him crazy from both inside and outside. Adam wasn't able to keep up anymore and at the end on the punishment, he fell over the blankets, naked, full of shame, pleasure and love. He was crying due to the overwhelming amount of feelings. His shaft was so hard that it was painful and he wanted freedom from you. His pants were perceptible in the silence of the room. The blue-haired man felt your hand on his ribcage and forcefully turn him on his back.

He saw climb over the mattress and settle near him. Your finger roamed over your pet's belly and touch his nipples, making him shiver and grunt. Your softness was welcome for Adam. His body was aching due to tension and slaps but pleasure was still present in his blood and adrenaline was keeping him conscious. Suddenly, the toy Ainosuke had in his ass had a different movement, more intense, more rubbing and making him moan loudly.

"Did you seriously think it was ended?" you questioned with a playful tone. "No. Of course not".

You got up and put yourself in a riding way. You pushed your shaft inside Adam's mouth and start to fuck his throat again. Fingers curling down the sheets and becoming white. Your sub was testifying of this pleasure. And you were too. Your hips were getting faster and faster and Adam's eyes were rolling backwards while pleasure was burning him. You were silently moaning and keeping your features still but it was hard when your little pet's tongue was that agile and smart to find the areas able to make you shudder. It felt like eternity till you finally cummed inside of Ainosuke's mouth. Your sub swallowed everything and as a reward you ordered him to change of position and to rest on his belly. You removed the toy from his ass and caressed it softly.

"Master..." called quietly Adam.

"Mmh?" you responded with distance in your behavior towards him.

"Please. Fuck me." begged silently the man.

Where was Adam, the king of S, almost undefeated? Where was the show-off, the insane guy? You knew very well where he was. He was subdued to every of your desire now, drunken by pain and pleasure, knocked by envy. He wanted you in the simplest way. The incubus became the innocent virgin and you were his master. Nothing was left from the skater man that you met at the nightfall. He was just a body aching for softness after a hardship, pleading for quietness now. And more sincere than he never had been until tonight. He needed you.

"Please Master..." whispered again Adam.

But his begging stopped when Adam felt your dick against his hole. A slight moan escaped from him and you started to bury yourself in him. His insides were warm and comfortable but so tight. The rubbing was divine and you could help yourself but start to fuck his ass very slowly to push him to worship you. Adam had his hips hanging a little in air as you were thrusting to give you both an amazing amount of pleasure.

"P-Please Master... More..." moaned Adam while you were almost hitting his ass.

It was so nice to see the man so submitted to his needs coming from you. You couldn't help yourself but started to thrust more and more quickly and fastly. The sound of your flesh against each other was echoing in the room and you liked it. You got rougher and rougher but it was still nice and finally, you let yourself be. You felt Adam's hole tightening around your shaft for the second time. Your hands slide down his hips to find his own sex so as to apply languid caresses. It was too much for him and his muscled yet thin body sank on the bed and you followed him in his climax not long after him.

You were panting heavily and your pet was actually nearly fainting. You took him into a warm embrace and rubbed his skin to soothe him. You didn't have the time for a real aftercare because he fell asleep immediately. You would wait him to take a needed shower. For the time that you had, you left him be.

Adam had been a wonderful sub. You were happy. But you didn't have the intention to stay with him. If he wanted you, then maybe you should have a more serious and deeper conversation. But now, it wasn't what you wanted.

[eddiesfaerie]

Pet

Summary: You accompany the Supreme Leader to one of his meetings. Unsurprisingly, you become desperate for attention. (2.2k words) ao3 link here

Warnings: NSFW, noncon/implied noncon, f!reader, exhibitionism, memories of sex lol, thigh riding, canon typical violence, violence against reader??, Kylo Ren is not nice, choking, slapping, mentions of blood, bondage i guess (let me know if i missed anything!)

@elmidol: Kylo + “Tell them to fuck off.” okay so maybe i went off with this request... i literally couldn't help myself so i hope you enjoy!!!

The transparisteel of the throne room is always cold beneath your knees, you flinch anytime your thighs come into contact with it if you shift your position too much. It often left you with purpling bruises on your kneecaps, ones that never seem to fade anymore.

You accompany the Supreme Leader in any and every meeting he wants you in, which as of late, has been to every single one. If he asks for you, you’re there. At this point, you assume it’s just some form of punishment; because as much as you’re expected not to speak, you’re expected to stay awake and attentive.

Half the time you let your mind wander off into some fantasy. Sometimes it involves the Supreme Leader, remembering how he fucked you the night before, wondering if he’d do that thing with the Force again.

Other times it was about escaping. You were punished by him for both sorts of daydreams. Now you just try to keep your mind as blank as possible. Sometimes you almost manage to reach a meditative state if the meetings are long enough.

The air of his throne room is cold. Everyone else is dressed normally, of course. You don’t doubt that you’re the only one shivering in your own flesh. The thinnest scrap of useless silk cascades down your body, completely see-through and hides nothing of your body for anyone who dares sneak a glance in your direction.

Besides the scrap of material you think someone referred to as a dress once, the only other thing you wear is your collar and chain - a heavy, thick metal, one they definitely use on the ships and TIE fighters, you’ve concluded. It’s sturdy and basically indestructible to anyone who wasn’t Force sensitive.

The metal was branded ungraciously with anything but fancy letters or delicate swooping and curling. No, your Supreme Leader didn’t care to spoil you with niceties. Thick capital letters branded on to the front of the collar spelt out R-E-N.

Ren.

You're his. His thing, his object. Whatever he wants you to be, you became that. You belong to him. And you’ve long since accepted that. Once you stopped struggling, it became easier and at times… enjoyable.

You also think that the Supreme Leader’s become more comfortable around you as time has passed. He’s not as harsh with you anymore, not nearly as cruel as your first few weeks with him. He was nowhere near easy, or nice, or kind, or loving. He was none of that, but you were starting to like how sharp his edges were, how cold he could be.

It became a little game of yours; seeing how long it could take for you to crack him on certain nights, how long until he let you massage his shoulders, his arms, his thighs or let you suck his cock on your own accord. It’s rare but it actually works sometimes. Sometimes he lets you in.

If he’s tired enough, fucked out enough, or just had enough, he’ll let you do as you please, like a little fish cleaning up after the shark’s mess; he’ll let you have some scraps.

Sometimes, he hand feeds you the scraps. Like right now.

Your head is resting on his thigh as he sits back extremely reclined, leisurely, unbothered yet so, so bored. And his hand is on your skull, fingers scritching at your scalp.

It was intoxicating, he was intoxicating. You could fall asleep just like this -

But you can’t. The rule. The rule! You have to stay awake even though he’s visibly slacking right now, probably dozing off to some fantasy as he mindlessly scratches at your head.

You sneak a peek up in his direction only to find his eyes already on you. You nearly squeak as you look away, back at the people congregating in his throne room for whatever ‘important’ reason.

His eyes burn like suns, they welt and blister your skin and you try to clear your mind, making it a place of disinterest to him so he doesn’t feel the urge to go swimming in and around your thoughts as he so often does.

A quiet murmur resonates throughout the room, coming from no direction in particular, it’s just simply there. It’s the incoming of his voice through the Force, you know this now, you’ve become accustomed to it. It ripples towards you like tiny waves in a pond before you hear his voice clear and deep in your head.

“Come.”

His hand steadily leaves your scalp, coming to rest gently on his thigh; his way of asking you to come sit on his lap. He’s never asked this of you while in a meeting before, he never really cares to give you that much attention, fearing it'll give you an ego, make you think you're special or something.

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, uselessly debating over something you have no say in.

Having already wasted enough of his energy on asking you politely, the Supreme Leader pulls on your chain, sending you hurling up off the ground and straight into his lap. You make an ugly noise, one of surprise and fear as you fall into him almost gracefully thanks to the tiny invisible touches of the Force along your skin.

He steadies you against him with one hand on your waist and the other pulling your chain tight, pinning your back to his wide chest. You straddle only one of his enormous thighs - bare cunt pressed flushed to the rough material of his pants - and he keeps you there, holds you still while you try to regain your breath from being moved so quickly yet so effortlessly.

You keep your eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to block out the several pairs of eyes that are taking in the scene before them, trying to tame your nerves and swallow down your shame and embarrassment. You're so visibly flustered, no doubt the Supreme Leader's getting a kick out of this.

You hear more rippling murmurs approaching you. Then a smooth leathered hand on your thigh, squeezing the flesh tight in his crushing grip.

“Eyes open, pet.”

You hesitate too long, still trying to regain your breath. That same hand on your thigh comes down hard, smacking your skin and letting the sound of slapped flesh and your wanton cry float through the room.

You try to curl towards him, to hide yourself in his broad frame but he holds you and your chain tight. His voice fills your head.

“You do as I say.”

You begin to answer him with a nod of your head but he cuts off your attempt.

“Out loud.”

You close your eyes and take in a deep, shuddering breath. Nothing could have prepared you for this unique type of degradation today. “Yes, sir.”

Only a few heads turn, no one daring to stare at you for too long. Like he had called you, you were his pet, that granted you some level of security.

The Supreme Leader makes some sort of contented sound with his throat. Whoever was speaking continues on with their speech while you finally manage to come down from such an overwhelming ordeal.

His hand stays on your thigh, tenderly massaging the flesh where he had hit you, emphasizing the sweet sting and letting it resonate throughout your body until it finds its way to your clit. The little pearl buzzes, needy for attention but you refrain from begging for mercy, for him to finish you off.

It's too easy for him to get you worked up. He must have been experimenting on you or something, like Pavlov's dogs or whatever. Anytime he touches you, even in the slightest, it sends you reeling for more, it turns you into some desperate whore, needy for whatever he would give you, whatever he deems you worthy of. Whether it was his spit or his flaccid cock in your mouth, you take it and accept it eagerly-

“Quiet.”

His sudden booming voice fills your head and sends you squeaking a silent apology back to him, your hips involuntarily jerking on his thigh. He pulls on your chain again, your back becoming flush with his chest, the length of your pussy dragging along his thigh leaving an embarrassingly sticky trail in its wake. You keen at the sensation, wondering if he was doing this to you on purpose.

“Doing what?”

You huff out a non-response, telling yourself you would roll your eyes right now if it wouldn’t get you-

“Punished.”

You audibly groan, rocking your hips onto his thigh on purpose this time. Fuck, he was so infuriating, so difficult to deal with. You’re thankful you’re just his plaything, not someone who has to deal with him professionally. He’s impossible.

You ignore the heads that turn in your direction this time and focus on the unsatisfying clench of your pussy around nothing. You know he feels it, feels the way your pussy is throbbing with its own heartbeat for him right now. He knows how desperate you are, he must…

Silence.

No response from him.

Maker, you could cry right now. He's usually so easy to rile up. So easy to frustrate, to annoy, to anger.

Yet he gave you no bruising grip on your thigh or waist, no warning for you to stop. Nothing.

His hand retreated from your thigh and now lounged on the armrest of his giant throne. His other hand doing the same. You feel the warmth radiating off of his chest leave you as he leans back against the throne. He was spreading himself out so wide and so far away from you.

You know he must still be wandering around in your mind, he has to be. There was no way he wasn’t doing this on purpose.

So you project.

You imagine all the ways he’s taken you, all the places and surfaces he’s bent you over just to relieve his tension, his anger, not caring if you came or not. You often did but it was never with any special care from him, just the pure shock and intensity of his fat cock, impaling you over and over again until you couldn’t help but cum all over him and sob from overstimulation, begging for more despite the pain, despite the blood-

The lights in the room flicker and whoever’s speaking stutters at the sudden distraction, but then continues on discussing… whatever it was they’re discussing.

You continue as well, remembering all the different way he’s punished you: for accidentally chanting his name as if in prayer when you’ve become so cock drunk and fucked out that it was the only thing that you could possibly think of.

Kylo, Kylo, Kylo.

You remember how he’s slapped you, hit you with the unforgiving and weighted metal of his lightsaber hilt. How he’s bruised you, burned you, marked you with his teeth, his lips, his weapon. You remember it all and you shamelessly rut yourself against his thigh, the building pressure in your clit making your mind blank to anything else except getting yourself off on him.

Fuck, you need him. You need him so badly, need him like the moons need their planet, like a planet needs their all devouring sun, a celestial body to rotate around or else they become meaningless, drifting off into space without a serving purpose.

Your body withers against his, your back threatening to arch off his chest if it weren’t for the death grip he’s got on your chain right now, keeping you in place like an obedient dog.

The lights continue to flicker. The muruming waves return and you scramble for what’s about to come next.

“Tell them to leave.”

His voice is steady yet it crackles with hopeful embers threatening to combust into something fiery and deadly.

What?

The lights in the room buzz loud and shine brighter than they ever have, like the stars in the sky before something magnificent happens. They shriek with strain until they burst, sending shards of glass flying throughout the room as they burn out, no doubt cutting people in the process.

A figment flies by your cheek and slivers your skin. You hiss at the contact, feeling something hot and thick roll down your cheek in its wake.

“Tell them," his voice booms, "to fuck off.”

“L-leave.” You speak, voice small, unsure and terrified. You’re not certain if anyone even heard you based on the minimal reaction you got. A few heads turn, surprised to hear the timid voice of the Supreme Leader’s pet.

Yet no one budges.

Your Supreme Leader’s hand snakes its way up to your throat, resting above your thick metal collar and crushes your windpipe in warning. You try again, this time, like he asked.

“F-fuck off.”

Someone, an idiot, dares to speak up with a voice quivering worse than your own, “S-Supreme Leader?”

“You heard her.” It’s the first time he’s spoken in hours. His voice is terrifyingly calm and sickeningly deep, you feel it resonate throughout your entire body, landing in the depths of your belly. You whimper pathetically, anticipating whatever storm is about to come.

Everyone stands, chair scraping against the floor and they file out through the giant throne room doors, letting the thick and heavy material seal you two away until your Supreme Leader is through with you.

[arlingtonpark]

Harrow the Ninth Act I Thoughts

This is all your fault, @ghostmartyr. If you hadn’t reblogged what seemed like heavy metal boy band fanart, I wouldn’t be in this hole. And for that, I hate you.

So.

When I first encountered the Locked Tomb online, I couldn’t tell if it was a story about edgy, neogothic, teenaged angst, or something better than that.

Turns out, it’s both.

But in a good way.

I love it. It’s great.

It’s unabashed, it’s thoughtful, it’s entertaining, it’s suspenseful.

Gideon the Ninth is finished, and after starting Harrow the Ninth, I decided to blog about it as I go.

I’ll be doing one post for every act of the book. I hope.

Let’s start with our new main character, Harrow. Newly reborn as a god and one of the only survivors of the last book.

So….

Right now, Harrow’s…

Um.

She’s uh…

-gestures at everything-

She’s fucked.

Fucked, broken, in the shit, started godhood on the wrong side of the bed.

200 babies were killed in the name of birthing her. Her parents died in front of her because of what she did. Death has always seemed to follow her, and she carries the burden of all that death.

Harrow despises her existence and wishes she were dead because of the circumstances of her birth, and yet for that very reason she is committed to living, because if she dies, all those sacrifices would be null.

She takes up the duties of governing the Ninth, she applies herself rigorously to mastering necromancy, and when the opportunity arises to become a lyctor, she jumps at it.

Harrow does this because it’s why all those people had to die. She was birthed to carry the Ninth’s legacy; its traditions and obligations and to some extent its very existence.

The twisted nature of the Ninth and her parents is inseparable from that legacy, so in a sense it was that legacy that led to her infanticidal birth, but regardless, this legacy is all she has. It’s all she was ever meant to have. And so she devoted herself to it.  

Now that she’s a lyctor and her house’s future will be guaranteed, but to do it, she had to sacrifice Gideon, whom she loved.

It’s more of the same shit from her perspective: more people dying for her sake. 200 babies die to grant her obscene necromantic talent, her girlfriend dies so she can gain even more power. Harrow doesn’t mean to step on innocent people to get what she wants…but that’s always how it’s turned out for her.

But to add insult to injury, even after all she’s sacrificed, she still didn’t get exactly what she wanted.

Her house will have a future, but she can never return to it. She’s essentially divorced from the only thing that gave her life meaning.

She can never return to her old life; to the extent she saw that as desirable, she can’t have that. Her old life is gone forever.

Something also went wrong with her ascension to godhood. She’s violently sick, mentally unstable, and the powers she should have are…half baked, for lack of a better word.

Nobody said you could get hungover from ascending to godhood. Harrow should sue.

It’s like going in to surgery to remove a tumor and coming out lobotomized.

Is she even immortal?

It all stings of pointlessness. All that effort for nothing.

Worse than that; She lost everything. Her home, her love, her pride and dignity.

Her only purpose in life now is to fight these hell beasts that she’s never heard of before. Happy days ahead, surely.

Oh, and one of the people she’ll have to work with is named Gideon.

Does God hate her?

And then there’s God.

This guy is sus as hell.

He’s gracious and humble. Perpetually calm and soft spoken. Empathetic and understanding. That’s what He’s like in person.

But He’s…maybe the villain? I guess.

God works in mysterious ways, and I have no damn clue what His are, but it’s probably ugly.

Yes, He’s a cordial Dude…but he’s still the God-emperor of a galactic undead empire.

Dude wears a crown made from the bones of dead babies FFS.

Not to be accusatory, but this guy definitely has skeletons in his closet.

-bu-dum-tish-

One of the things that really got my attention while reading this series is how the magic system in this world is depicted. Usually, in fantasy stories, the magic system is depicted as being morally neutral. Good guys use it, bad guys it, but the magic itself just is.

The Locked Tomb Trilogy isn’t like that.

Necromancy is bad. Perverse, even.

All the necromancers are frail and sickly. Practicing it is deleterious on the body. Doing too much too fast with it causes even more pronounced harm. As in, bleeding from your sweat glands.

Necromancy works by manipulating the life force of living beings and, primarily, the death force those being give off when they die.

The forces of nature that necromancy utilizes are (apparently) fundamental to the universe, akin to the laws of nature, but the use of those forces in this way are clearly a perversion.

It’s sort of like a bad tv show, like Sword Art Online. Sure, the things that went into making the show are natural parts of the world, but you just can’t put those things together like that.

John and his empire epitomize that.

All known beings in the universe are fundamentally thalergetic in nature. They are beings who radiate life energy. Except for the planets of the empire. Those planets and the star they orbit are thanergetic in nature.

They literally radiate death. And they are apparently one of a kind in that regard.

John is the first necromancer. John used his newly harnessed powers to “resurrect” multiple planets that had died.

Except he didn’t really resurrect anything, he turned them into an entirely new form of being using his entirely new form of science that uses some kind of mechanism that doesn’t occur naturally.

What I’m getting at here is that everything about John, his power, and his empire is artificial. Man-made. Perhaps even John-made.

We don’t actually know what happened during the Resurrection. What killed off the planets, how John attained his God-like powers, and what life John lived before it.

Oh, yeah, and every planet the empire conquers is systematically killed over generations to fuel their necromancer’s powers.

Every planet God touches literally dies.

One thing I appreciate about this series is how layered the story is.

The Locked Tomb series is a fun, irreverent romp. It’s about allowing the past to rest in peace. It’s also surprisingly political.

The metaphor is pretty blunt: it’s about capitalism. What’s more, the metaphor seems to be from a progressive or maybe even socialist perspective.

Ok, so hear me out on this. This is less fan theory than speculation about the author’s intentions.

The empire is a society built on a system that requires them to move from planet to planet, gradually killing those planets until they have to evacuate and move to a new one.

This process of gradual death takes generations to play out, so apparently they don’t even consider it to be an event that happens.

The heart of this system is necromancy, a perverse science that is ultimately derived from natural phenomena.

This system places the most powerful necromancer atop a literal throne and worships them as God.

God’s disciples are the lyctors, second only to Him in power. They attained that power by a very special process.

The lyctoral process is exploitative. It requires the necromancer to use their cavalier as a sacrifice and to turn their soul into a power source.

The lyctoral process is built around domination. The necromancer, in sacrificing their cavalier, subsumes the cavalier’s soul into their being to gain power.

The lyctoral process is dehumanizing. The cavalier is degraded from a person to a mere battery, but the necromancer is degraded in a way as well. The necromancer can never return to their house, or any of the other houses for that matter. Instead they must fight and die for God in his battle against the Revenant Beasts.

If you’re progressive, this may sound familiar to you.

Relationships of exploitation, domination, and dehumanization. A society built around perversions. That rewards people with talent in those perversions with idolatry. That cold-heartedly and shortsightedly extracts every drop of usable resources from a planet until it is dead, then moves on to the next one.

To a socialist, this may sound a lot like capitalism.

Saying that is already bold enough for me, so I won’t try to argue that it’s a one to one allegory. Necromancy equals the profit motive, lyctors represent the relationship between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat (So I guess that means the non-lyctor necromancers are the petit bourgeoisie) and the empire is humanity.

You could make a case for it, but the hot takes in this post are already pretty spicy, so…

OMG Mercymorn. XD

Mercymorn is my favorite out of the new characters. She’s a bitch.

Snide, rude, assertive, bitchy, and standoffish. No, it’s not that I want her to step on me, I just can’t get enough of her interactions.

I guess in real life she wouldn’t be fun to be around, but as a character in a book, she steals every scene. Her arrogant and bitchy remarks always make me laugh.

My one wish heading in to Act II: that Mercymorn is in charge of Ianthe’s training.

Just so she can kick her ass for not measuring up to her standards.

[thoughtfulpaperback]

Charmed 2x12 Review SPOILERS!!!!!!

Okay let's do this. Sorry I skipped one but times are hectic. For entertainment I give it an 8/10. Same format. Dislikes, likes and highlights

Dislikes

1. Macy Kneeling to Abby.

Let's just get this one out the way. I can see where they might have been going with this.

They maybe are trying to move away from the ambiguous route with abby (trying to make her sympathetic with her whole patriarchy thing and her dead mom) I mean she is progressively becoming more predatory with Harry so with that in mind, this was possibly one of the "abby is really a bad person not a feminist as she is only out for her own gain and not the empowerment of all women". And I can get that maybe they were also trying to show "look Macy is willing to do the most degrading thing possible just for the chance at rebuilding that power of three/charmed bond with her sisters for the protection of the magical community".

But listen.....

We all know Abigael isnt a star feminist. We already know (although we dont exactly know) that she has some sort of plan up her sleeve to be weary of.

There has been too much attempted ambiguity and the main characters letting her get away with terrible things that the message isnt coming across.

Plus Maybe yes showing Macy being willing to do something that really probably hurt all of us (epecially those of us who are minorities) to watch, may have been to drive home the differences between her and Macy and play up Macy's love for her sisters

But like we know Macy and Abby arent similar (as much as you writers tried to play that up at first). And you know just adding more sister bonding moment and just the fact that Macy was willing to go to abby after all the previous stuff was enough to show she was desperate? Maybe just add more sister bonding moments so we can see how dedicated they are to each other?

Maybe? Just saying.

If the writers are finally going to commit to Abby being a full on villian then I guess the seen was worth cementing that she is horrible (sort of).

Here's my question though as I consider whether the scene was worth it. Who is this show for and what is it trying to show? I mean if it is for minorities and women then i can see how showing these historical and current issues (conflict of power and consideration among women where race is concerned) then I guess showing it and having that controversy makes sense. But like we live it.

As minorities we already know. I know I struggle between wanting my experience shown and also wanting to watch something where for once the minority characters arent subjected to that experience. Charmed did better at addressing controversy and women's issues in season 1. I dont care if it was "obvious" or "heavy handed" because when it is not you basically get the kneeling scene where you dont know what the point was, if it was necessary, and are left feeling hurt or bitter about it.

2. Hacy Kiss.

Listen Brenda/on, this is on my like and dislike list. I will mention what I dislike about it.

The first thing is that it was a fantasy. I mean yes I like that we get full on confirmation that Macy has romantic feelings for Harry and not just considering that she might have them, but I honestly hate the fact that they would tease us like that. Especially when Macy is at a low moment. Which I will get into.

They are kinda ruining Macy for me. Listen, at this point they havent given us enough insight into Macys feelings or thoughts to understand why she isnt pursuing Harry. We can speculate and infer based on previous seasons and some of what the writers or showrunners say on twitter, but this season itself hasnt done much in showing Macy's thought process and so it falls flat. It isnt her reluctance to let people in or not wanting to get involved with someone after Galvin since she does pursue Julian and gets serious relatively quickly. She, at least now we it is confirmed, has those feelings for Harry, but is still choosing to be with someone else inspite of those feelings. I hate that. Harry is obviously tempted by abby and is being naive with her, but he isnt pursuing her and has blocked her advances (except the kiss) so far which may change who knows, but the point is if Macy was just casually dating and enjoying Julian's company I would be like okay, still hate that she would lead someone on when she has feeling for someone else, but if its casual there is less of a chance of the other person being hurt.

I cant get behind Julian x Macy, not because of Julian (who so far is perfect and probably going to be a villian or some how connected to the villians because it is a common trope) but because of Macy. Julian x Macy isnt Healthy because Macy knows she has feelings for someone else. She is using him. That isnt to say she doesnt genuinely like or care about him, but at the end of the day she is using him. Which is crappy because Julian so far seems like a great guy and doesnt deserve being the "distraction". I mentioned this all the time but my least favorite love triangles are the ones where one person is using the other.

Healthy would be Macy and Julian being friends while she works through her feelings and then decides who she wants to be with. Not being with someone while having feelings for someone else.

Macy was shown in season 1 to be rational and could be rational to the point of compartmentalizing and coming off as cold. So maybe that is where they are drawing from, but again little effort has been made on the part of the writers to show what's going on in her brain other than that fantasy kiss. And again I am still like....okay so what does that mean in the long run you butts!!!

3. Helen's suicude

I am so iffy about how shows portray people completing suicide. Like on one hand I get that them showing her exercising free will, but suicide portrayed as a positive rather than a tragedy is just....ugh for me. I still am not sure how I feel overall about it.

Lore wise I hate that they use it to explain why Harry and jimmy couldnt kill each other, because in an interview rupert claimed Harry was immortal now because of the elder thing and the show said it in that first episode. So like are both true? So if harry tries to stab himself like Helen will he just end up back in the coffin and alive since she is immortal?

I mean we are 12 episodes in and have about 10 to go so we really should be working towards a cohesive lore and storyline not adding confusing or not well explained layers. The world building they did in the first half was a lot better which makes me wonder what they heck is going on in the writing room.

Likes

1. Parkerita

Let me explain. While I fancy Jordan x Maggie together. I'd prefer that be a slow burn and steady friendship first. Parker seems to be Maggie's first love. It makes sense that she is still grieving and holding on. While I kind of wanted to be done with Parkerita in fairness to all the season 1 romances that where tossed out, I like the nod to Phole. I felt the OG Phole relationship was not healthy, but I liked the tradgedy of it. I think if new Charmed wants to wrestle with that and do it better (although my faith in the writers is low right now) then I wouldnt be against it. I love a good tradgedy and I sat through Phole so I'll sit through this one.

2.Hacy kiss

I love that the writers finally did something to show us what is going on in Macys brain. I need more (not necessarily Harry fantasies but I wont complain if we get more of those). I do hope a real Hacy kiss is a bit different because one one hand the fact Macy wanted to kiss harry when she was feeling down says something to me about how she feels about him and that she still trusts him (but it could, If I wanted to be cynical, just be more evidence that Macy skews towards using people when she is repressing or feeling down although she didnt actually kiss him, if she had I think I would have not liked it in that particular moment given it would have felt more like using him that expressing feelings)

Highlights

1. Abby really thinks no means maybe 😒 . . .

2. Mel is a lesbian magnet and I'd be fine with her just casually dating while all this other crap is going on as long as she is happy

2. Helen

3. These horror movie vibes though!!

[abbacchiosbelt]

Hello ma'am, can I kindly request Sorbet and Gelato with a newly joined, haughty fem member of La Squadra who gets on their last fucking nerve so after they're assigned and finish a mission together, they take advantage of the situation in order to teach her a lesson? Thanks in advance.

saddle up, y’all, because this is the most sinful filth i’ve written to date! please read the content warnings. this is not a fun ride for the reader character. seriously.

Control Yourself | Sorbet x F!Reader x Gelato

CW: Non-con, Degradation, Slurs, Violence, Knife Play 

Crinklingyour nose at the sight in front of you – several battered and bloodied bodiesscattered around your actual target – you turn on your heel and point anaccusatory finger at your two teammates leaning against the kitchen table, theirshoulders pressed closely together as they survey the scene.

“This wassupposed to be a clean hit,” You spit, stalking your way towards them. “Didyou really have to make a mess of things like this? Shit. I’ll ask Risottomyself to never be assigned with you assholes again. You can clean thisup and I’ll write the mission report outside.”

Sorbet andGelato just stare at you, their calm expressions despite being covered in bloodunnerving you. It was just your luck that you got assigned to La Squadra,consisting of several of the most irritating men you’d been unlucky enough tomeet during your time in Passione. These two took the cake, though – after refusingto give them the time of day and earning glares from Sorbet whenever you spoke,Risotto assigned the three of you on a mission together.

It had beensimple enough, minus the eye-rolls from Gelato whenever you said something andthe painful bruises that Sorbet left when he accidentally pushed youinto a wall or grabbed at you with little care. The way the mission had ended,though – fuck, did you hate them. Instead of taking out the singletarget, Sorbet and Gelato rid the safe house you had infiltrated of their entireteam with fervent excitement, Gelato slashing the throats of anyone close tohim with ease and Sorbet easily crushing anyone with sheer strength unluckyenough to get in his path.

Now, insteadof a quick getaway, you were left with two blood-spattered teammates and a pileof dead bodies amidst all the other destruction. Well. At least the target hadbeen taken out, but all you could think about was getting away from yourteammates.

As youturned around to leave the mess behind, not bothering to give a last glance tothe two men, you hear a low laugh that sends a chill through your spine. Amoment later you’re on the ground and struggling to breathe, crushed beneaththe weight of a body on top of you. Whipping your head around, you turn to seethat it’s Sorbet that has you pinned.

“What thefuck are you doing?” You hiss, gritting your teeth when the arm on your backpresses painfully in-between your shoulder blades. “You can’t do this, we’re onthe same team!”

– and there’sthe laugh again, accompanied this time by Gelato’s hyena-like chuckle that youhated so much. You try your best to wiggle out from under his grip, but it’s tono avail. Sorbet leans down enough to have his breath tickling against your earwhen he speaks.

“Do you reallythink that matters to us?” He punctuates the last word with another push of hisarm – you swallow back the yelp of pain trying to escape and kick your legs,crying out when a crushing pain comes down against them.

“Sorbet, Ithink she needs to learn some manners.” The boot on your leg twists in and youwince, hiss of air escaping between your teeth. (Of course, Gelato had to be anasshole and wear military-grade boots that were strong enough to rip into yourskin—)

“I agree. Alesson on how to behave, perhaps?” Sorbet’s breath tickles your ear again,making you shiver under his body. He lets out a throaty laugh and bites the topof your ear harshly, making another cry of pain escape your mouth. “Oh,sweetheart, are you really so desperate for some attention? You like this sortof thing?”

“No,” yourasp, wiggling again. Searing pain suddenly blooms in your side as Gelato’sboot slams into it, making you convulse and gasp for air under Sorbet’s heavybody. Sorbet’s tongue licks a stripe up the nape of your neck and you startle, shiftinguncomfortably under him.

“You horny bitch,”Gelato says, and Sorbet licks at your neck again. Whimpering, you shudder andbite back the moan trying to fight its way out. The weight on your backdisappears and you breathe a sigh of relief before you’re roughly tugged ontoyour back, Sorbet and Gelato looming above you. Gelato’s foot is still restingon your leg, pressing in hard enough to tear at the skin under your pants, sotrying to escape is out of the question.

“Let me go,I-I’ll tell Risotto about this!” You stammer, your voice coming out shaky.Sorbet raises an eyebrow.

“If you don’twant to participate, lurida puttana (fucking whore), I’ll be more than happy to personallydeliver the news of your failure to Risotto.” Sorbet puts a foot on your chestand presses down, causing you to cough and gasp for air. “The only thing they’llmiss is having your ass to stare at.”

Gelatolaughs when your face screws up like you’re about to cry – fuck, don’t cryin front of them – but you hold it back and try to slow your rapidlybeating heart, your eyes darting between the two of them. Gelato’s foot slidesoff your leg and tears more skin with it, ripping the fabric and exposing the woundto the air. A low whine leaves your throat and Sorbet brings his foot to yourjaw to roughly push your head in his direction.

“So? Do youwant to learn your lesson?” Your eyes dart from Sorbet’s expectant stare downto your lower half as Gelato cuts through the material and tears them off ofyou, leaving your bottom half exposed, the cute underwear you had put on thismorning seeming like a mistake in light of what was happening now.

“Aw, did youexpect something like this to happen? Is that why you wore something so cutefor us?” Gelato toys with the hem of your panties using his blood-stainedknife, the red color staining the fabric.

You yelpwhen you’re tugged up by your hair, Sorbet’s forehead pressed directly toyours.

“I asked youa question, puttana. Answer me.” His breath smells like blood and cigarettesand you wonder if everything up to this point has been a mistake – but all youcan do is nod weakly and hope your feigned obedience will give you a chance torun away.

“Y-yes,” youwhimper. Sorbet’s face softens and you think for just a second he might kissyou, until he loosens his fingers from your hair and lets your head slam backinto the ground. Gelato stops what he’s doing to look at Sorbet and in that singlesecond you sweep your legs to knock Gelato off balance and try to scurry away –but your hands barely find purchase before you’re being smashed back to the groundby a boot to your chest. For a moment you wheeze and wonder if they justcracked a rib, but your vision is starry and there are fingers threadingpainfully through your hair again.

“Donnacciastupida (stupid slut),” Gelato hisses, his face inches from yours. “Ti ammazzo (I’ll kill you).”

Your head isdropped back and slammed against the ground once more, painfully tenderalready. Warmth trickles down your forehead and you realize with horror you’rebleeding – but with the threat of death above you, a trivial detail doesn’tmatter.

A heavyweight slams onto your pelvis and you buck forwards, slammed back down immediatelyby two hands on your shoulders digging in painfully. Sorbet is straddling you, histeeth bared.

“One morechance, troia. Only because they’ve been dying to find out what kind of lay youare.” One of Sorbet’s hands slide to your throat and tightens around it. Youwiden your eyes in fear and he sneers. “Pay attention during your lesson,raggazzina (little girl).”

“Now apologizeto Gelato,” Sorbet says, climbing off of you and sliding around to your back tomaneuver you painfully onto your knees. You don’t even register what’s happeninguntil Gelato’s cock is shoved into your face, his musk invading your senses.You wrinkle your nose and Gelato clicks his tongue at you.

“Don’t bite,or I’ll cut your tongue out.” To make his point, Gelato brings his knife toyour face and trails a thin line down your cheek, stinging pain left behind asthe knife cuts into your skin. There was no escape now – so you open your mouthand Gelato shoves his member in roughly, tasting of bitter salt and blood.

You chokeand almost lose balance, but Sorbet is still behind you, holding on to yourarms in a painfully tight grip to keep you upright. Gelato’s thrusts into yourmouth are erratic and rough, his heavy balls slapping your face with every pumpand filling the room with a sick squelching noise.

“Guess we’vefinally found a use for that mouth of yours,” Gelato mumbles, thrusting deepand holding his cock down your throat while he watches you struggle. Your eyesstart to well up with tears and you almost feel like you could throw up untilhe pulls back out, leaving you coughing up your own saliva all over yourself. Hegrins before he shoves himself back into your mouth, his thrusts hard enough tohave his cock hitting the back of your throat.

Trying toconcentrate on anything else, you whimper around Gelato’s cock and earn apleased hum from him when you feel Sorbet’s hand trailing down your body andstraight into your panties, rubbing two fingers up against your wet center,your body betraying your mind. Before you can get any real pleasure, Sorbetdraws his fingers out and holds them up to Gelato, with what you can onlyassume is a grin from behind you.

“Gelato, lanostra piccola cagna (our little whore) is enjoying this.”

Gelato hissesout something that Sorbet seems to understand – and a moment later Sorbetpushes his fingers through your hair and shoves you against Gelato’s cock,forcing you to take the whole length down your throat. Ropes of his cum shootdirectly into your throat, hot and salty enough to make you choke, tearsrunning down your face as your nose is buried in his thick pubic hair.

Sorbetfinally pulls you back and you gasp for air, coughing and struggling hopelesslyin Sorbet’s one-handed grasp. Gelato sneers down at you as his cock, still rockhard, presses into your cheek painfully.

“We nevershould have let you out, it’s clear you can’t control yourself.” Gelato saysbefore reeling back to spit directly on your face. You make a noise of disgustand try to jerk away but Sorbet’s grip is like a vice, and you’re left with itrunning down your forehead and into your eye.

And despitehow terribly and horribly disgusted you are, despite the pain blooming all overyour body, the ache between your legs is steady and confusing – nothing getspast either of them, so Sorbet rips off your shirt before you can protest, easilyslicing through your bra with the aid of Gelato’s knife and letting it fall tothe floor.

Your pantiesare ripped off next, followed by the shoes you still had on – leaving you baredfully to the both of them, bloodied and bruised. Gelato roughly pries your legsapart and exposes your glistening core, toothy grin spreading onto his face. Sorbetpeeks over from behind you, clicking his tongue just as Gelato did earlier.

“Now that weknow you’re so easy, I don’t think you’ll be worth taking on missions anymore. Howcould anyone concentrate, knowing such a shameless little slut is right next tothem?” Sorbet releases your arms and comes around to the front, Gelato’s arms immediatelysnaking around his waist as they both stare at you, chest heaving and bodyshivering from the cold in the room. The blush creeping up your face shouldn’tbe there, they’d already taken enough from you, but the embarrassment andexcitement from being stared at so shamelessly is sending your head spinning.

Your eyesdart down to Sorbet’s pants when you hear a zipper being undone and a beltfalling to the floor – and you can’t help but whimper and try to back away whenhe pulls himself out of his pants. Gelato has a manic grin on his face as hewatches you assess Sorbet’s cock – you didn’t know men could be this big…it was going to tear you apart and by the look on Gelato and Sorbet’s faces,they were going to enjoy the process.

Sorbet tiltshis head towards Gelato’s and captures his boyfriend in a messy kiss, the noisesof their lips sliding across each other making something in your stomach twist.Sorbet pulls back with his hand tangled in Gelato’s messy curls, his foreheadpressed against him in a tender gesture, unlike what he’d done to you earlier.

“I’d ratherbe in you,” Sorbet says – and what the fuck, Gelato giggles, and pressesa sloppy kiss to Sorbet’s mouth. “But there’s time for that later, Gelato.”

“Stupidetroie (stupid sluts) like this aren’t good for anything else.” Gelato says, staring you downwith a look that makes your stomach churn in fear. He flashes his knife towardsyou and considers for a moment, before homing in on your chest. You swallow feelyour heart rate increase as Gelato scoots closer, hard cock still hanging fromhis pants.

He taps hisknife to the corner of his lip while he stares at your heaving chest, his eyesseeming to roam over nothing in particular.

Sorbet’s handon your thigh makes you yelp, distracting Gelato for a moment. He doesn’t seemangry, though, and instead turns to look at Sorbet line himself up with yourentrance. You wince when Sorbet’s head brushes against your aching sex – you wishyou weren’t here but god if the pounding in your chest and warm heat in yourstomach weren’t telling you otherwise.

Sorbet rubshis thick head against you for a few moments before plunging himself in – you scream,and your hands rip at the cold floor beneath you – it hurts, and it feelslike he’s tearing you apart. More tears spring from your eyes and start runningdown your messy face, making Sorbet snort in amusement. You cry out in protestwhen Sorbet starts a slow pace, his massive cock spreading your walls furtherwith every thrust.

“Fottutaputtana (fucking whore),” Sorbet growls, leaning close to you and pressing his cock inimpossibly deep. You hiccup a sob and try to lean away from him, but his lipscapture yours in a chaste kiss before he bites hard enough to draw blood. “You’llbe La Squadra’s cassonetto di sborra (cum dumpster) from now on. Look how easily you let mycock in, troia.”

Sorbet leansback up and glances to Gelato, his hand slowly pumping over his hard cock,leaking precum.

“Keep goingslow,” Gelato murmurs, looking down at Sorbet’s cock pumping in and out of you.Sorbet raises an eyebrow at his boyfriend. “It’ll hurt more. For now.”

Sorbet nodsand you huff and moan in response – earning a particularly hard thrust that hasyour eyes bulging and mouth hanging open, in too much pain to even cry out. Itfeels like hours but the thrusts eventually start to become almost pleasurable,the burning stretch fading only in the slightest. Every pull has Sorbet’s cockrubbing against your g-spot and tightening around him, eliciting a quiet growl fromhim every other thrust.

The feel ofcold metal on your bare chest brings you out of the pleasured haze and insteadwidening your eyes at Gelato, his knife’s tip gliding across one of yourbreasts. You want to whimper out for him to stop but it’s too much – so youwatch with disgust as the blood leaks out over your nipple, Gelato dipping downto suck it into his mouth. His mouth isn’t gentle, and you cry out, wincing athis harsh suck and the feel of his teeth scraping across the sensitive bud. Thecut he sliced into your breast doesn’t hurt in comparison to the sting ofSorbet repeatedly bottoming out in you – you’re left between the two like aragdoll.

Gelatorepeats the action with your other breast and your eyes squeeze shut when he finisheshis ministrations and runs the blade down your chest, his tongue following tolap up the blood.

“Please,”you manage to mumble, hands shaking as your grasp lightly at Gelato’s shoulder.“It hurts—”

Gelato liftshis head and meets your eyes, blood-stained lips curling into a sick smile.

“Well, Isuppose I can do something else.” Gelato places his knife to the side and leansover to Sorbet, whispering something in his boyfriend’s ear before pulling himinto a messy kiss, blood staining Sorbet’s lips when Gelato pulls away. Youfeel sick.

Withoutwarning Sorbet pulls out of you, leaving you achingly empty. You want to crawlaway and sleep, to get away from them, but a moment later you’re being liftedinto the air as they both stand. You’re not sure how they have enough strengthwith your practically limp body, but Sorbet has you pulled around him. Weakly,you wrap your legs around his midsection for support, knowing he’d drop you otherwise.

Sorbet’scock rubs at your entrance and you sigh quietly, both from pain and the briefmoment of pleasure when his head rubs against your clit. The thought of maybefinding release is lost when you feel Gelato pressing against your back, his handsgroping at your ass before holding tight there for leverage.

“You’ll likethis, stupida puttana (stupid whore).” Gelato hisses out into your ear, running his tongue downyour neck until he stops and bites the junction between your neck and shoulderhard enough to draw blood.

“Stop,” youmoan – you feel so weak now, all the fight you had earlier gone. You wished itwas over, or that one of them would be merciful enough to rub your clit. “Please,I learned my lesson, I promise.”

“Hmm.” Sorbethums, rubbing his head against your clit deliberately. You whine and try to rutyour hips against him, but it’s no use with how you’re being held.

“Extracredit, then.” Gelato says, before both of them snicker. Fucking bastards.Gelato’s cock presses into your entrance and he rubs himself before you feelSorbet’s cock pressed up against his, and with horror, you realize what they’reabout to do.

“W-wait,”you stammer, desperate. “It’ll hurt too much.”

“Shh,”Gelato coos, and his sickeningly sweet voice makes you want to vomit. Sorbetpushes in at the same time Gelato does, and your walls stretch more than youthought was possible, Gelato’s thick cock snug to Sorbet’s own impressivemember.

“Oh cazzo,”Sorbet says, slowly inching himself in against Gelato. “Questa troia dovrà (this slut) wasmade for our cocks.”

“Let’s keepher as our giocattolo da scopare (our fuck toy),” Gelato mumbles against your shoulder, beforesucking at the wound he bit earlier. All you can feel is white hot painsplitting you apart, mixed with a distant pleasure that’s keeping you grounded –you want to cry out, to scream, to do anything, but all you do is loll your head backagainst Gelato’s shoulder and whimper out in pain.

Somehow, they manage to fit their cocks inside of your tight walls, almostpainfully snug against each other. Gelato and Sorbet are both moaning out loudly– you know it’s not for you, no, it’s for each other and how their cocks feelviolating you – but it has you bouncing slightly on them and trying to adjust,to get anything out of this.

And maybe it’s because you’re so far gone that you can’t thinkstraight, but it starts to feel good as they drag themselves against your sensitiveand spread walls, cocks rubbing against spots that have you crying out inpleasure and tightening around both of them, biting into your bottom lip andmumbling out their names. It’s encouragement for them to fuck you harder,faster, hoping to finally break you in as their own personal fuck toy – and it’snot long before they’re pumping into you in a painful rhythm that has both ofthem chasing their release, thrusting desperately into you and against eachother.

Gelato finishes first, hissing out expletives and biting down on yourshoulder when he cums, his cock twitching against Sorbet’s as he fills you withhis release. Gelato stays inside while Sorbet rubs against him, the dark-hairedman finishing a few moments later, groaning loudly while he fills you with hiswarm cum.

You’re not sure why – maybe it’s because they knew you were ruined now,bound to them – but someone’s hand reaches around to your clit and you findyourself crying out when your own orgasm is finally granted, clenching aroundtheir cocks and eventually going limp against them, breathing heavily.

They pull out with a loud squelch that gives you the same empty feelingyou felt earlier, their cum running down your thighs and making a mess beneathyou. With little care, they drop you to the ground and you groan out in pain,too tired to move.

Moments later Gelato is standing over you with his phone – and he muttersa far too happy ‘Say cheese’ before he’s snapping pictures of your body on thefloor, nudging you with his boot to spread you open and take a picture of yourswollen entrance, dripping with their cum.

You don’t register anything but the sound of clothes being put back on,but you’re left naked and cold, too tired to move. Sorbet is suddenly standingover you, staring down at you with the same stoic expression he always wears.

“We’ll see you for the mission report tomorrow. By the way, we’releaving, so you can clean the mess up.” His stoic expression breaks for a lowgrin as he watches you grimace, even in your tired state. Gelato slides his handsaround Sorbet’s waist and stares down at you with the same expression hisboyfriend held.

“Welcome to La Squadra. It’s a shame this will be your last fieldmission.” Gelato says, faking a pout before smiling at you, sharp teeth digginginto his bloodstained bottom lip.

“I’m sure Risotto will be happy to hear about your other merits, troia.You were useless otherwise.” Sorbet grins at you and nudges your head with hisfoot. “Cheer up. You’re lucky we got to you first.”

Both of them laugh before turning around and leaving without anotherword, leaving you to lie on the floor covered in blood and aching, drippingwith their release.

Maybe they were right about you all along – at least you were good forthis.

[devnny]

CHAPTER EIGHT.

JTRM — THE “R” STANDS FOR RECOVERING!

PREVIOUSLY.

lots of plot development in this chapter blaugh, i hope it’s not too fast. oh well. ONWARD TO DOMESTIC BLISS!

[•/•/•• :

This is… stupid. This is so, so stupid. What am I doing?

Johnny’s still killing people. And here I thought we were making progress in ridding him of that fourth voice of his.

He doesn’t tell me much about ‘Reverend Meat’. I hoped that had meant it was quieting down, but I bet it’s fucking not. Nny just hides things from me that he knows will piss me off. BASTARD.

I brought up him… moving in. To the apartment. With me.

I have to be going insane again. I’m not AFRAID of him anymore, but does that mean I want him living in my house? No.

But I don’t know how else to control him. He said they were spur of the moment attacks, so does that mean I have to constantly keep tabs on him? I have to know everywhere he goes, and what he’s doing there, and when he’s going, and when he’ll be back? I don’t CARE about any of that.

…Well, I guess I do. But only because I’m trying to keep him from getting crazier. Fuck, this sucks.

I haven’t lived with someone else since community college…]

--

The dry, patchy grass crumpled under Johnny’s shoes while he strode across his lawn, only the dull light of the lopsided moon available to guild him through the dark. He didn’t mind – after all, his eyes were fairly well-adjusted to lurking around at night. He came to a stop at the first story window of his next-door neighbor’s house, and climbed up onto the windowsill. He used that as a makeshift stepstool, and settled himself down before springing up the additional six feet or so, his thin fingers quickly latching onto the window directly above it. Johnny pushed the pane open as he crawled upwards, propping himself up and half-inside the home as he moved forward.

“Hey Squee!” His teeth gleamed in the dark. The little lump in the bed to his right stirred, and a pair of eyes peeked out at him.

“Oh, hello.” Todd mumbled. He wasn’t having any luck sleeping as it was, and his scary neighbor man never made that any easier.

“How’ve you been? It’s been a busy couple of months for me – I’m home now, by the way. Sorry, I forgot to stop in. One of my old friends is, er, back in my life, for the time being.” Johnny admitted, and hauled himself up over the sill to lay more easily on his ribs.

Todd’s curiosity was peaked from that comment, and he pushed his comforter down to properly greet his uninvited visitor. He wiggled down off the rather steep drop that his bed had for a Squee-sized child, and moved cautiously toward the window, Schmee hugged close to his collar.

“A friend?” His lower lip tucked out. “Is he living with you? Is he… scary?”

Johnny blanched, and quickly chuckled the comments away with some embarrassment.

“No, she’s not at the house with me.” He said, then paused. The talk he had with Devi the previous day about potentially moving into her apartment was still very much on his mind. It was one of the reasons he had stopped by tonight, having felt the need to disclose that to Todd, since that would mean he would again be unavailable if the boy needed help.

“Err, I might be… living with her soon, though. It’s kinda up in the air right now.” He confessed. Todd’s mouth opened slightly in surprise, but he only continued to stare at Johnny, unwilling to pry.

Johnny felt some heat crawl up from his cheeks to his forehead as he watched Todd’s inquisitive, almost accusatory, face. He was a little kid! He didn’t want to be a bad example – children should have good examples from the adults in their lives, especially Todd, who was severely lacking upstanding role models with his parents being such lousy people.

From what he gathered, most children had the understanding that a man and woman lived together when they were, well, married! The situation happening otherwise was booed by old people as being devious in nature – he shivered a little.

“Don’t worry – we’re just friends. Promise.” Johnny squeezed an anxious smile out. “It’d just be a roommates sort of situation.”

Todd looked surprised that Johnny had guessed what his curiosity was about, and thinned his mouth into a flat line, tiny teeth poking out while he tried to find something else to look at besides the man flopped over his windowsill.

“ANYWAYS.” Johnny cut in. “She’s been helping me with drawing stuff, and uh, some… other stuff. So I won’t be cramming anymore corpses in the tunnel between our houses. Shouldn’t take more than a couple years for the ones in there to either degrade into bones, or mummify. It is kinda musty down there…”

He failed to notice Todd’s horrified expression.

“—They’re probably already halfway there. It has been almost six months since I was last down there… maybe I’ll go check it out.” Johnny mused with a set of scratches to his jaw. “Aw well, point is, if I do move out, you could use the passage to sneak out at night! Wouldn’t that be cool?”

Todd only continued to stare in shock.

“I’ll keep ya updated. Things are changing so fast these days.” Johnny smiled, then adjusted to slither back out the window. Before he dropped down, he offered a blaring, “GOODNIGHT, SQUEE!”, only startling Todd further.

Todd hurried back to bed and burrowed into his sheets, trying with all his might to unimagine the spooky images of mummies living below his house.

--

WITHIN THE WEEK:

A trial run, that’s what this was.

She and Johnny talked it over, and then she talked it over again with Tenna, and then once more with much more yelling, and then cursed God with every foul word she knew, and then yielded to her hideous fate.

Johnny would stay at her apartment, for now.

Just until he didn’t need to be monitored like the horrible, man-baby he was, Devi told herself.

Her neck lowered further and further, until the crown of her head was almost level with her shoulders. She hated this so much.

Johnny was only going to take two boxes worth of clothes and crap with him, seeing as his new living situation was temporary, but he needed her slightly larger car for the only piece of furniture he intended to bring to her apartment with him; his drafting table.

The desk was old-fashioned, mostly metal, with a heavy wooden surface, and was very, very difficult to lift. Devi leaned against her car door and watched with a sour expression as Johnny attempted to move the table down the driveway with little success, swearing all the way. She grumbled a sigh, and made her way over to help him.

With much less difficulty, the two wobbled down his driveway, screeching the desk’s metal legs along the concrete every so often when their grip slacked too much. They heaved it up over bumper of Devi’s sedan, and the car shuddered under the added weight as the table thudded into its trunk.

“I don’t think we’ll be getting that closed.” Johnny commented, in regard to the trunk door. Devi grunted.

She instructed him to get her some rope, or something, to tie the back shut with, since she outright refused to enter the house herself. Johnny returned with a myriad of different bindings, ranging from thin twine to chains, and Devi did her best not to think too hard about why he had so many options.

“Those are… unused, right?” She pointed to the chains that he was winding around the desk, but got distracted by the rolling sound of plastic wheels a small ways down the sidewalk. A little boy with black hair slowed his trike to a stop beside the car.

“You’re moving after all, Mister Nny?” Todd asked with a wobbly smile. He still didn’t really know how to address Johnny.  

“AH.” Johnny stumbled back from the task at hand with an excited smile. “Hey, Squee-gee!”

Devi watched with a befuddled expression as Johnny trotted around her and to the curb. He squatted down to Todd’s eyelevel, still smiling wide.

“Yeah, but I’ll be back in a little while. I’m just staying with Devi until I’m, uh… feeling better!”

“You’re sick?” Todd asked. Johnny looked off and laughed at nothing as a response.

Todd’s mouth squirmed, and he turned his attention to Devi’s towering figure – from the point of view of a little Squee – a few steps away. She had such an intimidating presence, even though she was mostly just staring incredulously at the scene in front of her, but Todd still got the feeling that she was more anchored than his crazy neighbor was.

“You’re Mister Nny’s friend?” He asked. Devi’s mouth slanted; she wasn’t great with children.

“Uh, yes.” She responded as casually as she could. They way this kid said it, Johnny must have mentioned her to him before. She wasn’t sure if that made her uncomfortable or not.

“I’m glad you stopped by, Squeeg’!” Johnny piped up again. “I was going to leave you a note otherwise – I never know what you’re up to during the day.”

He stood up and tucked his hands behind his back politely.

“You be a good Squee while I’m gone, okay?” His sharp shoulders perked up in a shrug. Todd nodded, and Johnny returned to his work of securing his ever-valuable drafting table to Devi’s car.

Devi watched Todd’s smile inch wider, then watched him peddle his tricycle in a circle and back toward his house. He didn’t seem too broken up that Johnny was leaving, she noted, but they certainly seemed to have some kind of relationship – bizarre.

“You’re friends with that little kid?” She asked.

“Yeah, I kinda took him under my wing.” Johnny answered from the bowels of the trunk. “He needs someone to watch out for him – he’s such a scared-y, tiny kind of Squee, and his parents are… uninvolved. That’s putting it nicely.”

Devi’s mouth pinched up into a small frown. The topic of inattentive parents wasn’t unfamiliar to her – not in reference to her dear old dad, of course, but rather to her perpetually absent mother, who never made even the most minute of efforts to stay in contact with Devi after so-kindly giving birth to her. Her titas warmly referred to her as a ‘crackwhore’.

As heavy as that was, Devi hadn’t been bothered by it much after her hormonal pre-teen years passed, but it still left her with a rare soft spot for sad, neglected children. Or maybe it was a hard, angry spot for shitty parents – yeah, that suited her better.

“How uncharacteristically kind of you, Nny.” She teased dryly, and Johnny responded with a tittering set of giggles.

“HEY, I’m kind!” He popped up and set his foot on the edge of the car’s bumper for leverage as he pulled the bindings tight. He tied the rope and chains together with a gnarled looking bow, and inched back to review his handiwork with Devi.

“If this thing falls out while I’m driving, I’m not stopping.” She said.

“That’s fine, it’ll just go through my windshield and I’ll drive it the rest of the way.”

Both burst into a quick fit of hysterical laughter at the image. As it tapered off into chuckling sighs, Devi gave Johnny a jostling shove on the shoulder to urge him into the last leg of today’s endeavor.

“Alright. You ready to go?” She asked, moving to look at the house with him. Johnny regarded his residence of the past four years with a distant expression for a moment, but not nearly long enough to shrug off all its hellish nightmares and everything it represented for him as casually as he did.

“Yep!” He grinned at her. “Let me lock up, and we can leave.”

Devi held in the urge to scowl at the domesticity of it all.

--

SOME NIGHTS LATER:

It was really starting to hit him that he lives with Devi.

The first night had disoriented that fact, with the majority of the day and evening spent unpacking his things and trying to find places for them to go amongst all of Devi’s things. She was kind enough to empty one section of drawers in her art room as a makeshift dresser for his clothes, which was functional enough for him. He was going to spend most of his time in there anyway, and it wasn’t like he needed a bedroom, and he was not going to ask to mix his clothes in with hers. He had still only been in her bedroom once, and that was because the only bathroom in the apartment was connected to it.

After Johnny had finished unpacking, they drew for a while, and then ate and watched TV, and after that Devi bid him an awkward goodnight. It wasn’t very different from the one night he had spent over before, so it didn’t settle in how different things were going to feel now.

When she got up, and he was… still there, it still felt the same. But then he spent all day watching her paint while he drew, in her art room, which was now sort-of their art room, and he was there every time she left to get a drink or scrounge up something to eat. And he was there when she took breaks, and had dinner, and watched a movie.

Johnny couldn’t remember the last time he had spent a full 24-hours with someone; not even any of the poor bastards he’d strung up in his basement were ‘company’ for him for that long in one sitting.

It was… strange, but nice… so very nice.

Every time Devi left the room they were in, there was a comfortable, unconscious knowledge that she would be back. Whether it was in a few minutes, or in a few hours, he would be in her presence again shortly, and that made him feel a little safer, for whatever reason. There would be no more waiting for days to pass until he could see her in person again, just a mild handful of hours.

And it made him completely manic!

He wanted to draw more now than he ever had in his entire memory of his life. It was compulsive, uncontrollable. Every time Devi left him to sleep, Johnny would take up the same sketchbook and draw, and draw. Fast-paced, frantic swirling and squiggling of ink that dried up his pens and cramped his hands – but he persevered with the kind of persistence he hoped would make Devi proud, ushering forward whatever it was exactly that his brain demanded his fingers create.

So far, it just looked like a mass of churning, scratchy lines, but he was confident that there was a something meaningful there somewhere in-between the rows of indecipherable nonsense. The lines would look wrong here or there, and he would tear away strips of the paper and continue on to the next page, letting the ruined part lay atop it as though they were one singular piece, revealing new and different shapes as the mix-matched directions of the lines tried to work together.

It had been a week’s worth of nights that Johnny had committed to this ‘personal’ project so far, and he felt as if tonight he may actually bring it to its much-desired finish. He was excited about that, seeing as he had so far refused to share any of its progress with Devi – or its existence, for that matter. Each time he would hear her rouse from slumber, he tucked the sketchbook away into one of his designated drawers, and lied about how he’d preoccupied himself while she slept. Devi was not one to be so easily fooled, but she had allowed him to keep whatever he was working on a ‘secret’ from her, curious to see the end result if it was that rigorous of an exercise for him.

--

ONE SLEEP AFTERWARDS:

Devi rustled her hair with a yawn, still sitting in bed. After a couple of passes with her fingers to ‘comb’ it, she tied it back into one sloppy ponytail. She would do it up in her semi-usual pigtail style after breakfast.

The first few days of waking up and knowing that Johnny was in some unknown part of her apartment was very odd, and a little unnerving, but now she was forlorn to say she was getting used to it. Soon she feared she would be accustomed to sharing a space with him, or God forbid, content with it. The thought made her spine shudder.

She undid the lock on her bedroom door, and poked her head out to survey the area. Usually Johnny was on her couch by this time in the day, eating chips or something. He sure ate a lot of her food for a guy that didn’t ‘eat much’ – fucking freeloader.

This morning, however, he was unusually absent from his preferred sofa cushion. Devi’s mouth curved down suspiciously, and she ventured further out into her apartment. She didn’t hear anything besides the casual passing of cars outside, which only made her more wary. Johnny was very rarely quiet. She moved towards her drawing room, her first guess on where he might be.  

Devi was shocked to find him asleep on his drafting table.

She would have sooner thought he was dead, if it wasn’t for the slow rising and falling of his chest, and the intermediate twitching of a finger now and again. Johnny had boasted that he hadn’t slept in months, and she certainly believed it after a week of waking up to find him still up and about.

She stood and watched him a while, unsure of how to approach the situation – it was the same apprehension one might feel in waking a dog that they don’t know the temperament of well, fearful it might snap at them. She had no intention of waking him up, but she was very interested in the tattered looking notebook lying under his forearms.

With a push of stubborn bravery, she grabbed the sketchpad and slid it away from Johnny’s sleeping form, with no resistance on his part. The metaphor about him being akin to a vicious, snoozing guard dog was inaccurate, apparently. Her pilfered goods in hand, Devi retreated to her living room to inspect Johnny’s ‘work’.

From what she could see, it just looked like a torn-up mess. The open page, the one he had assumingly been working on last night, was the only one that wasn’t ripped. The rest all had pieces missing, some of them off to the sides, the other’s random chunks out of the middle. The first one was hollowed out, making it look like the discarded crust of a sandwich.

Devi frowned, uncertain what to make of this massacre of paper and pen marks. Maybe it was just some vent art, and she was expecting some grand project out of this molehill.

She flipped the pages carefully into their ordered places, and began the motion of closing the book’s cover when her eyes caught the vague shape of something amidst the tattered pages. She opened the cover fully again, and pulled one of the dangling pages more to the left. It was eerie how the lines seemed to shift and take form of something different as she did so – kind of cool, she admitted, if it was meant to be an interactive piece. Devi adjusted another loose page, and sucked in a sharp gasp at what she saw.

It was the figure of a person. All of this chaos was made to overlay and frame something, and that something was… Devi, it seemed. The figure showing amongst the damaged and chaotic penwork was her. She could certainly make out her scythe-like pigtails that protruded from the top of the slim subject’s head, however vaguely.

Devi’s chest clenched. There was such an uneasy feeling that came with seeing herself in Johnny’s work. Her brain immediately imagined that this was the result of some unhealthy obsession, maybe infatuation, with her, and that made her nauseous. Johnny couldn’t be living with her and dreaming up weird, neurotic, pseudo-romantic crap about her! Next he’ll be writing her poetry and other delusional bullshit, and that would not be acceptable in the slightest.

She stopped herself, letting the trail of disgusting thoughts leave her for a moment. Perhaps she was being too hasty in assuming that this was a symbol of his desire for her, or something equally gross. Devi wasn’t exactly narcissistic, but she absolutely credited herself and her efforts for guiding Johnny into a better state of being, and she knew Johnny did too. Maybe he put his gratitude toward his creative muse, and this was what popped out.

The shadowed eyes of her paper-self stared at something off the page, unknown to her, and Devi’s mouth twitched at how calm she looked. Sullen, but unbothered by the tumultuous nothingness around her.

Ugh. There better not be some kind of meaning behind this.

Devi closed the sketchbook and returned it to its sleeping owner, who only snorted a bit at having his arm prodded. She chuckled at the response, and shook her head fondly in disbelief of her situation. At least as far as art went, it was a pretty damn good piece from a one, maniacal, Johnny C.

She’d give him an ‘A’ for effort, this time. And maybe interrogate him later about his intentions. Yeah.

--

NEXT.

[winetae]

⇾ money shot (m)

↳ in a pornographic movie, refers to the sequence in which the male actor ejaculates onto his partner’s body.

⇁ female reader x yoongi

⇁ smut || pornstar!au

⇁ dom!yoongi, submissive!reader, verbal humiliation, spanking, roleplay, rough sex, cum play, dirty talk, this is porn ok and everything is consensual

⇁10.9k pwp 

. . . 

“Don’t look so put off. Min Yoongi’s indisputably one of the best in the industry. He’s extremely professional and experienced—and handsome to boot. You’ll be in the very best hands. He rarely works with newbies, so consider yourself special.”

↳ or ; the author just really wanted to write a pornstar!au but got carried away;;

a/n; in no way is this story meant to depict the real life working conditions of adult film stars. contains inaccuracies ! + i couldn’t have written The smut scene w/o my #1 perv ilu

(!!) pls re-read the warnings !! may contain triggering content. roleplay includes portrayal of a not so ethical or appropriate relationship (teacher/student) and the verbal humiliation makes use of degrading names/slut shaming, so please don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable !! 

(!!) if your name is mj stay away from this fic !! also if ur jordan’s sister stop reading smut khkjh

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In front of you, a manila folder was slammed down onto the table's wooden surface, the sudden movement making your cup of coffee wobble dangerously. You cupped the drink between your cold hands, intent on not letting a drop of your 5.79 dollar purchase go to waste. Only once the liquid had stopped sloshing around did you bother to greet your agent with a cordial nod.

Dressed in an all black, pressed suit and with his hair combed back, he seemed ready to head off into a business meeting, not discuss your next adult film project over a cup of coffee. Choosing to skip over the small talk, he leaned forward on his elbows and waited for you to take the folder and peer into its contents.

You spared it a cursory glance, not expecting much from its uninteresting appearance. Still, you decided to humor him—after all, Seokjin wouldn’t have called you out to meet in person if it wasn’t urgent. Unless legal paperwork was involved, your usual means of communication with the self-proclaimed Important Man was limited to phone calls and e-mails.

“Your first big movie,” was what he said in lieu of greeting, a proud smile pulling at his lips. You relaxed somewhat. He looked visibly pleased with himself which could only mean good news for you. “Now, no need to thank me...but I did pull a few strings to land you this job.”

“Uh-oh.” You stared hard at him, trying to detect the underlying message behind his words. Knowing him, ‘pulling a few strings’ could mean anything from calling in a favor to giving the director a blowjob in the back of his car between shoots. He was that kind of agent.

Seokjin shrugged, choosing not to put your worries to rest. “I know the casting director well—we were in the same frat. We catch up from time to time and when he mentioned he was looking for a fresh face, I immediately recommended you. They reviewed your portfolio and really liked those test shots we took of you two weeks ago.”

Your mind drifted back to the two hour long photoshoot that had taken place in Seokjin’s friend’s villa. Judging by the way the place was decked out to look like a pimp crib, you were half convinced that it was owned by a seedy nightclub owner or something of the sort. You were probably not too far off from the truth but all talks of shady property owners aside, the house served as a spacious and luxurious backdrop for your swimwear shoot. The concept of the day was ‘slutty trophy wife’. No added photo filters or retouching had been needed to make your skin look perfectly slick and shiny; your body had been waxed smooth and slicked down with baby oil—your tiny bikini basically just an accessory.

At the time, you had grumbled and complained about the set-up, cursing the burnt-red color that had appeared on your skin after posing provocatively by the poolside in the blistering heat. Your skin had needed a week to recover from all of the consequent peeling and redness and you had been obliged to cancel some of your schedules. Some things just couldn’t be fixed with makeup... And no one would pay money to see a girl with a bright red, flaky nose giving head. But all of that trouble had been well worth it if the finished pictures had gotten you such a coveted job in the end.

He gestured to the file in your hands, “You’ll be working with Min Yoongi.”

“Eh? Min Yoongi?”

Certain you had misunderstood, there was no use concealing your incredulity. Min Yoongi’s name held so much power on its own—the mere mention of it was enough to have you straighten your back. Surely this had to be a joke of some kind, right? The entire thing was just so absurd; it felt too good to be true. Frankly speaking, Yoongi was way out of your league. You hadn’t even been in the industry for very long...yet someone deemed you fit enough to work with a big gun?

You eyed the corners of the quaint coffee shop with suspicion. You tried to spot any hidden cameras, fully expecting a crew from MTV to bust out from the shadows at any moment and unveil the prank.

Seokjin let out a sigh, disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm. “Don’t look so put off. This time, you—or rather I—struck gold. Min Yoongi’s indisputably one of the best in the industry. He’s extremely professional and experienced—and handsome to boot. You’ll be in the very best hands. He rarely works with newbies, so consider yourself special.”

“I’m not put off,” you were quick to defend. “I’m just... I’m having a hard time believing any of this is real right now. Can you blame me?”

“Well believe it. Why do you look so surprised? There’s a reason people would open their wallets to see you on film. You’re very photogenic, you look great on film. Lots of people have hot bodies and pretty faces, but not many give off the same energy as you.”  

You watched him plop in a third cube of sugar into his black coffee, not thinking much of his compliments. The thing about Seokjin was that he knew exactly what to say—the well-timed flattery basically second nature to him. At first, you couldn’t help but be charmed, however you soon came to realize that you were just one of the many people his sweet-talk had an effect on. Seokjin had absolutely no qualms using the same lines and buttery tone with anyone he met, and after seeing the way he operated, everything about him seemed too rehearsed and contrived to be genuine.

Seokjin waited until all the sweetness had dissolved into his drink before continuing, “You know that we always advise against filming anal and DP scenes right away for a reason. It's hard to make a living off of porn because people naturally tend to lose interest once they’ve seen everything you have to offer. Over time, talents tend to lose their shine. Being in the industry changes you. Doesn’t matter if they’re the best actor out there, the dead fish eyes will always give them away... It’s like they’re not really present during the scene, you know what I mean? If the performer is bored, so is their audience. If the audience is bored, no one will be willing to hire them anymore.” 

“Well isn’t that lovely,” you intoned drily, silently contemplating your own fate. How long would it take before you eventually became that jaded? What a bleak future to look forward to.

“I’m just being honest,” he raised his shoulders, his ever-present smile dimming a little. “It’s better to be honest about this. I don’t have any time to be spewing any inspirational bullshit. And you shouldn’t listen to anyone who tries to feed you that crap, either. You should always know what you’re signing up for.”

You supposed there was some merit to his words. Even if he was heavy-handed with his praises, he had never painted you an idyllic picture of the adult film industry. Before signing the contract with your agency, they had made sure that you had known exactly what you were putting on the line, what you were risking. You had never ventured into this world with false hopes; they had made it quite clear that if you didn’t make it big within the first few years, it would be hard to find your footing in an industry that was constantly on the lookout for new talents. Considering how the average span of a porn star’s career was less than three years, you understood the pressure to cement your name before your time was up. Building a solid fanbase was crucial if you wanted to survive as a porn star.

With this thought weighing on your conscious, you regretted not showing more gratitude to your agent... Without him, you probably would still be filming low quality videos that you tried to pass off as artsy. Seokjin had been a huge help in launching your career. He was basically fetching you deals left and right that no rookie without connections could ever get. In the past, you had been eager to seize these chances before they slipped away.

This time, however, you couldn’t shake off the mix of feelings that churned in the pit of your stomach as your eyes skimmed over Min Yoongi’s long list of impressive credentials and accolades. On the one hand, you were excited about being granted this huge opportunity right off the bat because being partnered with a renowned porn star meant that you got to ride off his fame. It meant getting more exposure, which was something you certainly wouldn’t refuse. (Only a fool would turn this offer down!)

On paper, it wasn’t that all different from any of your previous jobs—show up, get your makeup done, take your clothes off, get fucked, maybe fake an orgasm or two. Yet, for some ridiculous reason, you couldn’t help but feel strangely inadequate for the job. Nervousness crept up your spine the longer you let your gaze sweep over his lengthy résumé. Shooting with someone with this kind of reputation also meant that if you fucked up, everyone else would know about it the next day. The industry was a lot smaller than it appeared to be from the outside. One mishap could have you spending the rest of your career trying to erase the label you had inadvertently earned on set.

It wasn’t that you lacked confidence in your skills. You gave a mean blowjob and your pussy was nice to look at. Because your body was your bread and butter, you dieted and worked out daily in order to ensure you stayed in the best shape.   Maybe it was vain of you to proclaim, but you looked good on camera, especially with your clothes off. And it wasn’t like you lacked any experience, either. You had filmed your fair share of pornography, so you knew you were able to keep the public interested, if the rising views during the weekly cam sessions were any indication of your popularity. But the stakes wouldn’t be the same this time and that was what scared you.

Perhaps Seokjin sensed your distress because he offered you an encouraging smile, his whitened teeth on display. “You’ll do great. If I didn’t think you would make it big, I wouldn’t waste my time on you. I always put my eggs in the right basket so I’m confident that this will go well. This isn’t going to be some seedy shoot filmed on a three hundred dollar budget. They’re pulling out all the stops for this one... The director is hoping this will win him another AVN award this year but we’ll see. Don’t mention it if you see him, by the way. He’s a bit sensitive and it’s best not to step on his toes too much.”

All you could do was nod, distracted by other, more worrying thoughts. Were you ready to actually go through with this? Would you be able to do a good job? What if you somehow messed up? You stopped yourself from continuing this line of thought. That would be counter-productive. It really wasn’t like you to doubt yourself this much but the minute your agent had dropped Min Yoongi’s name, you had been putting everything into question.

Seokjin held your gaze, his eyebrow raised expectantly as he waited for your inner ramblings to cease.

“Now, if you could just review the terms of the contract before signing and we’ll be all set.”

You stared at the dotted line, pen in hand. Seokjin hadn’t hired a fool. It didn’t take very long to finish signing all the legal paperwork.

Despite your initial fretting, you were excited to finally be part of something so big. The production cost for this movie was noticeably more significant than any of your past works put together. That meant better filming equipment, better filming locations, better actors. The more you thought about it, the more convinced you were that this would be your breakthrough role. This movie could potentially change your life and help you make a name for yourself.

It became all the more apparent that your key to success would be working with Min Yoongi.

Before this, you had only heard about him in passing—his name one you had overheard whispered by the gossiping hair and makeup staff, one that you saw plastered on the covers of glossy magazines and online news articles. You had seen printouts of his face on the front of a handful of film posters that lined up the walls of your agency’s building. He was someone you knew of, someone you knew about, but you had never experienced this burning curiosity to know about him before today.

With so much at stake, you decided to do your homework. You did your research, watching his interviews on YouTube and searching his name up on various web portals. Through the pieces of information you had gathered by watching his interviews, he seemed like a calm, collected man—completely different from the image you initially had of him. His cockiness wasn’t showcased through self-praises and obvious boasting; but rather by the way he coolly and confidently answered the blunt questions hurled at him from prejudiced interviewers. Never had he flinched or faltered; never had he let anyone intimidate him with twisted questions intended to cause controversy.

It was his cold, no-nonsense kind of behavior which led you to wonder: what sort of person was he like to work with? Without the firsthand experience, the only way you could find out was by personally purchasing a movie he starred in. Which you did—for research purposes only, of course. There was no shame in wondering what your partner looked like in action or how he worked once the camera started rolling, right?

Watching his movie meant that you were taking your job seriously, you reasoned  Seokjin had assured you over and over again that you would be in good hands, but what weight did his words have when he wasn’t the one getting spanked in front of a filming crew? You just wanted to know what sex with this man would be like. What was it exactly that you had to look forward to?

You set up your laptop and made sure everything was plugged in properly (the last thing you wanted was for your computer screen to black out during the good bits). Pillows propped behind you, you wriggled around beneath your fleece blanket until you found a comfortable position.

The movie you had picked out was supposed to be on the tamer side of his porn filmography. You had selected it in the hope that it would ease you into things. It was a typical let's-fuck-the-babysitter scenario so you didn't really expect much. Scenarios like these were predictable because they had been done so many times before. How much would you be willing to bet that it followed the cunnilingus+sex on the couch+blowjob formula? But with how popular he was, you didn’t really know what to expect anymore... What made him so different from the rest? A part of you was worried he had a monster dick or something equally impossible to recover from. Guys with huge dicks always made it difficult to keep up your filming schedule and a good fuck was never worth that setback.

Laptop nestled in your lap, you pressed play. The screen of your laptop lit up, signaling the start of the movie, and you held your breath as you finally got to see what all the fuss was about.

The first thing you were immediately struck by was how incredibly handsome he was. Even though his female partner was no less attractive, your eyes couldn’t help but stay glued on him. You could tell just by the way he carried himself and the way he spoke that he was very confident and self-assured. He never looked away from his partner, his lids heavy and eyes dark with the promise of more to come. You couldn't look away; his simple presence demanded you pay him attention.

The more you watched, the more you understood why people when wild for him; his charisma coupled with his experience had evidently made his career long-lasting and successful. Surprisingly, any line he delivered sounded convincing. He made a cheesy, over-the-top porn script sound hot. How the hell? You put the volume up, your earphones picking up the slightest noise—every rustle of the sheets, every sigh of pleasure from the girl, and every slick and obscene noise coming from her pussy as Yoongi thrust into her were loud enough for you to believe you were there as it happened.

You weren’t exactly sure when, but your eyes had fallen closed somewhere along the way. The audio in your ears helped fuel the lewd scenarios you conjured up in your mind; it wasn’t hard to imagine yourself in the place of his female counterpart, Yoongi working his hips against yours, his heavy breathing tickling your ears as you moaned out his name. Sliding your hand beneath the waistband of your panties, you were barely surprised to find yourself already damp with arousal. You carefully circled a finger around your entrance, coating the digit with your fluids until it was lubricated enough to slip in.

Quickly, you built up a steady rhythm. Your finger tried to mimic the pace he had set—each thrust inside your wet pussy a weak imitation of what his hardened length would feel like inside of you. One finger wasn't nearly enough to satisfy the growing need that pulsed between your legs. You eased in a second digit next to the first, feeling your walls stretch to accommodate the newest intrusion. Breathing out a sigh, you kicked your head back as you worked yourself to a frenzy, letting the loud sounds flowing through your earbuds lull you into a trance.

“Such a good pussy.” The wet, squelching noises almost drowned out his groan of appreciation. You mewled in response and spread your legs wider as if to urge him deeper, but it was no use. Your fingers couldn’t bring you the same satisfaction that his thick cock would. Squeezing in a third finger, you tried to imagine him working his hips against yours, his lean body sticky with sweat as he filled you up to the brim with every thrust. “Hear that? You take my cock so well, baby.”

"So fucking—tight." He growled out, the primal sound loud in your ears. Lust coursed through your veins and you could feel it burn, melting away any of your inhibitions. Sucked deep in your fantasy, you could vividly picture his pink lips curling into a smirk as he watched you slowly start to unravel before him.

Tears stung your eyes. You arched your back, hips rutting against your hand, as you tried to alleviate the burning ache within you. Your fingers twisted around, rubbing your walls, searching for that sensitive spot inside of you. But your efforts were futile—from the angle you were sitting in, your fingers couldn’t quite reach it, no matter how much you tried. Forehead shiny with perspiration, you keened in frustration, too wound up to continue. You wanted to cum so badly that it hurt. Desperately horny, you changed your course action, circling at your swollen clit instead with renewed determination.

The first slide against your nub was electrifying and your entire body shuddered, overcome with pleasure. The obscene sounds from the video blended in with your own soundtrack. Breathless and dizzy with want, you failed to register that the moans spilling from your mouth were echoes of Yoongi’s name. Your pleas for release grew louder as the fire inside your lower belly erupted into an inferno. 

"I can feel you around me, fuck, you gonna cum soon, baby? Yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock?" Yoongi whispered harshly into the crook of your ear, his heavy breathing sending shivers down your back. “Fucking cum.”

His name on your lips, you threw your head back as the band inside you snapped, your body his to command. Trembling all over from the force of your orgasm, you clenched your eyes closed as you tried to prolong your trance. If you imagined hard enough, you could feel his hot breath fan your skin, his fingers bruise your hips as he kept you still. 

Yoongi’s voice echoed inside of your head long after the aftershocks of your orgasm had waned, haunting and promising all at once.

.

.

It took another useless glance at the clock to confirm that you were early. You were filming the second sex scene today. The first scene had been filmed already and you hadn’t run into any complications. Your male co-star’s dirty talk could have been better, but his handsome face and skilled tongue had made up for it. You could still remember the delicious stretch of his long fingers inside of you, and how his deep baritone voice growled in your ear as he fucked you pressed up against a window. Off camera, he had been nice and easy-going, cracking the occasional joke between takes.

With how great things had turned out yesterday, you were anticipating today’s scene almost as much as your character was. Today you were filming the scene with Min Yoongi—the grand finale, the climax of all climaxes. The Big Nut. Makeup and hair done, you had already filmed your intro video and were now killing time before the actual shoot began.

Better early than late, you tried to console yourself. Waiting around like this made you jittery; the amount of caffeine pumping through your veins filled you with a burst of energy you found hard to keep under control. It wasn’t even noon and your daily dose of coffee had already been exceeded. You bounced your leg up and down, the constant fidgeting giving away how nervous you really were.

You tried to distract yourself by reading over the film script, ignoring how your fingers trembled slightly like a chronic smoker who hadn’t gotten their fix.

The movie was scheduled to run for one hour or so, with two sex scenes filmed in two different locations with different actors. The scenario was your cliché go-to porn plot in which you would be playing the role of a naughty student who gets caught fucking someone after school hours by her teacher. Punishment ensues. You fuck your feelings out. The end.

Well, that was definitely something you could handle, you thought to yourself as you leafed through the script. Although there had been more lines to memorize than you were used to, you had confidently assured your agent that you would be able to do it. You were glad that your two years hanging out in the theater club back in high school wouldn’t be for nothing... It was a shame that you could only showcase your acting skills in a porn movie because you knew a lot of people would skip over the plot and jump straight to the filth. During the last few days, the mediocre porn dialogue had become your bible, your bedside book that you read religiously before going to sleep. You had read it over so often, you were confident that you could recite every line in your sleep.

A polite cough interrupted your pre-show pep talk.

You looked up, not expecting to meet Min Yoongi’s gaze. Blinking, you took in his features, not realizing that you were blatantly staring. Who could blame you, though? There was something so virile about Yoongi that had you doing a double take. He exuded masculinity with every step he took towards you. Something inside you clenched. 

“____?” He called your name, gaze flicking over your features in turn. He took a seat opposite of you and holding out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you smiled as sweetly as you could. His grip was strong and secure, his touch cold. 

“Hm.” He let out a noncommittal sound while he perused a file on his lap. You recognized the papers Seokjin had typed up beforehand, your name headlining one of them, but your attention was quickly diverted.

Your eyes were instantly drawn to his long and elegant looking fingers, the veins in his hands prominent whenever he flipped a page over absentmindedly. It was strange seeing them in person... Just the other night, you had been salivating over the thought of them inside you, thrusting and curling with expert precision and unwavering focus, every movement intended to coax a moan of pleasure from your lips. You had seen how lethal they could be through the screen of your laptop... Now you were going to be experiencing those skills firsthand. The thought sent a rush of excitement through your body.

“I’ve taken note of your hard limits.” His smooth baritone tone snapped you back to attention. “The scene doesn’t require we go that far anyway, but just in case you get too uncomfortable with anything, your safe word is ‘cobbler’, correct?”

“Yes.” You gave a short nod, your neck stiff as you tried not to break eye contact. 

“Have you read through my form?”

“I have, Mr. Min.”

A snort escaped him then, his lips curling into the kind of smile that bordered on a smirk. “No need to be so formal. You can call me by my name outside of a scene.”

“Yoongi, then.” Your hands felt clammy all of a sudden and you wiped your palms on your skirt, hoping that he wouldn’t notice your incessant fidgeting. The glint in his eyes indicated that you weren’t nearly as successful in masking your nervousness as you would have liked. You didn’t even know why you felt so antsy. This wasn’t your first time meeting an attractive porn star. Yesterday’s shoot with Taehyung had gone without a hitch. So why were you getting so worked up now? You weren’t eighteen and impressionable anymore.

His gaze swept over your body, interrupting your line of thought. You felt it brush over your delicate throat, your supple curves, your bare legs. The scrutiny made the surface of your skin heat up, your legs clench together. 

“Ah, I’m looking forward to working with you.” A ghost of a smirk crossed his features. For a moment, you believed it to be a product of your imagination, but he shot you a wink as he got up to his feet, the action suggestive enough to have you swallow thickly. 

.

.

In retrospect, maybe it was a good thing you were nervous—it made your acting a lot more believable. You wrung your hands together, head bowed in a show of contrition.

"While Mr. Jung and I don't see eye to eye on a number of subjects, some of his methods of punishment have been very enlightening—albeit a tad primitive.” He regarded you with detached interest, his eyes sweeping over your figure. His impassive stare made you fidget in your seat, the scratchy material of your skirt rubbing against your thighs. “I could just let you off with a detention slip, but students like you need to be put back in their place."

Yoongi was so good at this, his tone convincing enough to have you believe in his words. For a moment, you let yourself pretend that all of this was real—that you had really acted up when you weren’t supposed to and that he was now going to punish you for your misbehavior. It was so easy to slip into your role when he appeared so serious and forbidding.

"Bend over."

He punctuated his command by tapping his ruler against his wooden desk, his tongue clucking in a show of impatience when you refused to move. You licked your dry lips, silently wishing you could have a glass of cool water to quench your sudden thirst.

"A-are you serious?" you croaked, finally remembering the lines you had memorized.

"I assure you, I am not the type to joke around."

With his arms crossed, he looked every bit like the imposing figure he was playing as. Gulping audibly, you slowly gathered to your feet. You kept your gaze trained on the polished floorboards, making sure to avoid his probing stare.

"I find that corporal punishment works wonders on troublesome students like yourself. Writing lines for an hour hardly has the same impact." Above you, his low chuckle could be heard. Goosebumps raised to attention as your eyes fluttered to a close.

“Skirt up. Let me see that ass.”

“S-sir.”

“You had no qualms flashing me your filthy cunt the other day. Up, now.”

You hurried to obey, his stern tone jolting you into action. Your fingers reached behind you, hiking the material of the skirt high enough so that your skin was exposed to the cool air. Behind you, Yoongi patted your cheek in mock praise before deftly fitting the hem of your skirt into the band of your waistline so as to keep the fabric in place.

Not expecting him to kick your feet wider apart, you barely managed to stifle your yelp of surprise. You attempted to anchor yourself by clutching the sides of the desk, your legs now stretched too widely apart to be considered decent behavior. The position you were in was humiliating, intended to make you feel vulnerable and exposed.

“Good.”

The single word had your pulse race. His praise felt like a physical caress, and you closed you eyes to let the feeling wash over you.

“Now tell me.” Yoongi’s voice was now deceptively smooth and you knew right away that he was toying with you. “How many misdemeanors was that in one night, hmm?”

You blinked, suddenly remembering that you were supposed to be portraying a misbehaving student. Cursing your lack of focus, your mouth opened as you tried to recall the script. When you took too long to answer, Yoongi went on with the scene, sidestepping your blunder.

“Too many,” he supplied with a sigh, sounding disappointed; whether it was with you for forgetting your lines or with your character, you weren’t sure. Either way, the remorseful look on your face wasn’t extremely hard to fake. You felt nervous again, wondering how well you would be able to perform today.

With an easy yank, your panties fell to the ground, leaving you even more indecently exposed than before. As Yoongi crouched down to peel them off of your body completely, any worries you might have had didn’t seem of much importance anymore. What mattered was the touch of his fingers on the backs of your thighs—cold against your burning skin.

"I wish you could see yourself right now." He mocked, voice laced with something akin to smugness. You felt his hot breath tickle the insides of your knee, the sensation almost enough to make them buckle. "Skirt up, legs spread wide open... So wet and ready for a nice cock between your thighs, isn’t that right?”

The bright lights from overhead spotlighted the acute shame and arousal that raged within you. Both coalesced into one intense emotion that reduced you to a big puddle of desire. You weren't sure if it was his husky tone or the shocking amount of filth that spewed from his lips, but you felt the coil in your stomach tighten with each word leaking into your ear. Your heart raced wildly in your chest, your hands hanging uselessly by your head. His words made you want to hide your face behind your arms, but you knew that wasn’t an option—not when a camera was intent on capturing every shift of your expression.

Your lack of response didn’t seem to deter him for he continued on, merciless with his interrogation.

“Is this turning you on? Do you like being reminded how desperate you are to be stuffed full?"

Every question left you short of breath—you felt each of them like physical thrusts that made the crux of your thighs ache with a need to be filled up. A heavy haze muddled your thoughts. All you could focus on was the throbbing in your core; all you could here was his voice crooning obscenities in the crook of your ear.

"I can see your tight hole clench.” Yoongi let out a disbelieving laugh, the derisive sound making your cheeks bloom pink with embarrassment.

The flush that adorned your cheeks only darkened further when you realized the camera probably had a perfect, unobstructed view of your sopping center. You could only imagine what the sight would look like on screen—your inner thighs glistening from your slick, your lower lips slightly swollen and flushed pink from your obvious arousal. With the way you were bent over the desk, presenting yourself willingly to his hungry stare, you had no doubts that you looked like an expensive dessert ready to be devoured.

"Y-Yoongi, please..." Eyes glassy, you felt yourself clench again as you imagined his dark eyes drinking in the sight of you bent over, wet and ready for him.

"Don't talk to me so informally," he scolded, pinching the inside of your thigh as punishment. A yelp escaped your parted lips—not because it was painful but because you felt a sting of pleasure zap straight to your bundle of nerves like an electric shock. “Address me properly.”

It was easy to give in if it meant you would get what you wanted. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Now, let’s start this again.” Holding your breath in anticipation for what was to come, you struggled to stay still in the position he wanted even though your knees ached. How long were you expected to stay like this? It probably hadn’t been very long, maybe five minutes at the most, but you could already feel the muscles in your thighs straining. “When I ask you a question, I expect a verbal response, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” Thankfully your voice was stable this time. He patted one of your exposed cheeks in praise, the little slap enough to have you wanting more.

Your legs were so spread out that you didn’t notice you were making a mess on the floor until Yoongi brought attention to the drops that spotted the wood, "I'm not even touching you and you're making a mess. What? Pretty boy Kim Taehyung fail to get you off?"

"Maybe he would have if you hadn't interrupted," you bit out, true to the script. Frustration seeped into your every word, but it was more directed at yourself for getting so aroused by his words and actions. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so affected; usually you had to play it up a lot more for the cameras but this time you barely registered the filming crew that stood a few feet away.

"I don't need to touch your dirty cunt for you to cum," he huffed. Although you couldn’t see his expression, you could picture his stare hardening and his lips thinning into a straight line. "You’re soiling my office right now and all it took was for you to offer your pussy to me. You’re proving to be quite the slut tonight. I think I’ll leave you like this, legs open, empty and aching for cock, as your punishment.”

"Wait—no, please!” The desperation in your voice was alarmingly real. You could feel your eyes well with tears of frustration because the prospect of being denied release was simply too cruel to fathom. You didn’t know how long you would be able to endure having nothing filling you up. In every one of your past films, the scene had always had minimal foreplay and little to no plot. Normally at the 5 minute mark, you would have already swallowed his dick down your throat... You weren’t used to having this drag on for so long. Never before had you felt this engaged while shooting a porn scene. 

"I don't want you to beg. I want you to apologize—no, to grovel."

Shameless, you whimpered, “I'm sorry. I'm so—please, I'm sorry.”

His hand crashed down on your burning skin with a resounding smack. The unexpected force behind the swat ripped a cry from your throat, the sound raw and primal. Your eyes watered as you panted, breath cut short when he brought his hand down on the opposite cheek.

"And what exactly are you sorry for, slut?"

The hands soothing over the sting contrasted with the unforgiving edge in his voice. You suddenly remembered what Seokjin had said, that you were in capable hands. You believed these words, trusting Yoongi to make the right decisions.

"I'm sorry for sneaking out past curfew."

"What else?"

"I'm sorry for... Sorry for behaving indecently with Taehyung."

"Not specific enough," he chided, his rebuke underscored by a harsh slapping noise. 

"I'm sorry! Please, ah, I'm sorry we were kissing. Sorry for letting him—nhh—touch me." With every new admission, he delivered a firm spank to your reddening cheeks. The blows weren’t hard enough to really hurt, but the repeated swats onto your sensitive skin would probably leave a blooming bruise. You couldn’t wait to see the visible reminder of your punishment, the red mark from his hand his personal brand of ownership.

"And where did he dare touch you?" Yoongi’s lips curled into a scowl, his voice low and dangerous.

"My breasts. B-but only over my vest," you were quick to add after sensing Yoongi's form tense over you. "And my—my thighs..." You were desperately trying to remember the lines of the script you had practiced so hard to memorize, but the exact wording kept escaping you with every firm swat of his hand against the globes of your ass.

Yoongi's deafening silence urged you to finish your confession. He rubbed circles over your stinging skin with the palms of his hands, squeezing the soft flesh between his fingers as he waited for you to resume talking. 

Taking a shuddering breath, you obliged him, "He—he filled my pussy up with his f-fingers..."

"Did he? And did you enjoy that? Did you like having his long fingers fuck your greedy hole?" He reached down and delved a hand between your legs as he spoke. With a skilled index finger, he ran it across your wet lips tentatively to gauge how ready you were for him. Pausing at your entrance, he swirled his finger around, coating it in your copious amount of arousal. Just one finger was not nearly close enough to the friction you craved. You bucked your hips in response, silently beckoning him for more, as if that would somehow convince him to put an end to the teasing. 

Immediately, he chastised you by smacking your sopping wet center. Arching your back, you felt all the air leave your lungs with a drawn out whimper. Echoes of pleasure vibrated throughout your body, from your head to your very toes. Your clit throbbed, swollen with arousal. The tingling sensations made your inner walls clamp down and you found yourself wishing not for the first time for his cock to fill you up. 

“Answer me.” Yoongi hissed between his teeth—a warning you didn’t dare ignore.

"Y-yes, yes, I did," you finally responded after struggling to remember the initial question. 

"Is that all? Was that all he put inside of you?”

“No.” With a swipe of your tongue, you licked your dry lips. 

“No?”

The one word question was enough to know that he wasn’t going to let it go until you elaborated your answer. You squirmed in his hold, your heart pounding as you finally admitted what he wanted to know. “He put his cock in-inside me.”

“You let him fuck you?” The incredulity that colored his tone sounded so genuine you almost believed his act. You shuddered. “I should’ve known a dirty little slut like you wouldn’t be able to keep her legs shut.”

“I’m sorry, sir. Please, p-please fu—” You gulped, your throat dry.

“Speak up, girl!” He snapped, slapping the palm of his hand over your slick center. As soon as his fingers hit your clit, you felt your back arching and your sensitive nipples rub up against the hard, wooden surface of the desk. The searing pain hit all of your nerve endings, effectively rendering you speechless. Meanwhile, your hips futilely chased after his punishing touch, hoping to finally get the satisfaction you were craving for. "Tell me, do you like getting humiliated? I'm trying to punish you but you seem to be enjoying this far too much. I thought that a girl like you would need a firm hand to get her act together, but I think that you need more than that, don’t you?"

"Answer me.” Yoongi punctuated his command with another smack to your lower lips, the sudden blow leaving you dizzy and bereft of coherency.

"Yes—ah fuck, sir please!" Gasping, the feeling of the harsh sting shot straight to your swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves like an electric shock. For a short second, your mind felt blissfully blank as the zap of pleasure traveled through your entire body from one extremity to another. "Please touch me, I need to come!"

"I can see that.” He laughed, spreading out your cheeks out so he could have a better look at the proof of your shame. “Your hole keeps clenching, asking for fingers...or perhaps it needs a nice, thick cock? Hm?"

A whimper left your lips before you could think of subduing it. The thought of finally having him buried deep inside of you was nearly too much to bear. From the way you were bent over and spread wide open, you were basically offering yourself to him. All he had to do was take what was his.

“Please fuck me now,” you moaned, hoping that he would douse the fire between your legs. The need for friction was so unbearable you thought that you would burst at the seams. You tried to undulate your hips in a silent plea for more but his left hand kept you pinned down and immobile to the table.

"I thought as much. What makes you think you deserve mine? Do you honestly think you deserve this cock?” As if to tease you even further, he pressed himself against your exposed backside. Your entire body shuddered as it felt the prominent outline of his erect length through the material of his pants. Even through the layers of fabric, you could tell that he was well endowed. Images of him on screen, feeding his cock to his partner as she begged him to fuck her throat, flashed through your mind. Your mouth watered at the prospect of finally having him in the way that you so desired.

“Please, sir.”

Your mouth was so dry that your plea could barely be heard over the thundering of your heart. Somehow, he had understood your dire need, for he spoke, “Little whores like you should know how to beg for a fucking properly.” His voice was full of disappointment as he stepped away from you. Panicking from the loss of proximity, you hurried to placate him.

“Sir! Please fuck my dirty pussy. Fuck Taehyung’s cum out of my pussy. Please, sir, I’m your slut, only yours, please make your slut cum.”

Your watery plea was met with tense silence, and it was then that you realized that you had said the wrong thing. 

“Up,” he ordered, finally breaking the stifling stillness.

Your reactions were somewhat delayed, dizziness dulling your senses and slowing you down. Still feeling unstable, you gripped the edge of the desk, your knuckles turning white. Blood rushed to your head and you had to wait for a few seconds before the spots of light that danced in your vision faded away.

"Naughty sluts don't wear clothes, do they?"

Even though it was clearly a rhetorical question, you replied anyway, head bowed in shame, "No, sir."

Without waiting for his verbal command, you began to strip yourself of the cheap, white blouse. Subconsciously, you made sure to face one of the cameras as you slowly undid the buttons of your top one by one. Normally, you would be acutely aware of how everyone's attention was focused on you, but the only thing you could focus on this time was Yoongi's predatory stare. It was the minute changes in his expression that gave him away—his pupils were blown wide with lust, his nostrils flaring slightly as he drank the sight of you in—and, of course, the bulge in his slacks that he didn't bother to hide.

Next came the skirt. It hadn't been covering much to begin with, but with the way it was bunched up useless at your hips, you didn't feel any more exposed than you previously did once it came off.

Left in only your lacy bra, you played coy, your fingers just barely keeping the flimsy material held up. This part of the scene hadn't been explicitly discussed beforehand, but many things had deviated from the original script. And since nobody had interrupted the two of you yet, you figured that you were allowed to take a few liberties. Instead of feeling confused and lost from the unpredictability of the events, a strange feeling of excitement surged through you. It didn't feel like you were going through practiced motions; you felt wholly engaged in the present. You only had a vague idea of where this was headed and the element of surprise kept you on your toes.

Yoongi, ever in character, was not amused by your games. He clucked his tongue and narrowed his eyes in warning. Tilting his head as if silently asking you 'do you really want to play this game?’ you finally cowered. Your hands fell to your side along with your last material scrap of decency. There was not a single thread to cover you any longer—Yoongi was free to scrutinize every inch of exposed skin without a barrier to block his view. By slipping off your last item of clothing, you had bent yourself to his will and surrendered your body to him.

“On the desk, on your hands and knees. Ass up and hold yourself open for me.”

You scrambled to comply, not wanting to test his patience. Maybe if this was another day, in another place...but here, right now, you felt yourself follow his lead as if your body was on automatic. 

The position was somehow even more degrading than the previous one. From this angle, Yoongi now had a better view of your drenched pussy. And by holding yourself open for him, you felt like a willing participant to your own humiliation. Perched on all fours atop the piece of furniture, you felt like just another object of decoration—your sole purpose to be used or admired as pleased. 

You felt terribly exposed, but there was no denying the resulting spike of arousal in your stomach. But just as quickly as the burst of desire spiked, it disappeared, leaving you even more sexually frustrated than before.  

"CUT!" the director yelled from somewhere behind you. The sudden reminder that you weren't alone, that this wasn't real, made you flinch. It felt like someone had yanked you straight back to reality without forewarning and you were left confused and disoriented, stuck between the truth and fantasy. "Good, you guys are doing good. Let's take a short break. We need to fix the lighting.”

Film breaks weren’t uncommon but you had been so immersed in the scene that you were slow to react. "Fix her makeup before we prep for the second part," came the second set of instructions. 

Truthfully, you weren't paying attention; too busy steadying your racing heart. A young woman came forward and blotted the sweat at your hairline with a tissue before reapplying a layer of gloss on your lips and retouching your eyeliner. You barely registered her actions, not focused on your surroundings in the least.

"We're going to stick the bulb inside of you now, okay?"

It took several moments for you to understand that they were talking to you. As the words finally registered, you nodded your agreement.

The strange, artificial mixture felt cold inside of your walls. It was probably the usual stuff they used when they shot creampies, you thought distantly, not caring. Every squirt inside of you made your hips twitch in reaction although there was nothing sexy about this; the clinical approach dampened your arousal and gave you time to clear your mind. Your eyebrows knitted together as you patiently waited for the faux semen to fill you up. They made sure not to shoot it deep inside, so you felt it slowly start to ooze out as soon as the assistant stepped away from you. 

"Yoongi, we'll restart from your last line, ‘ass up and hold yourself open for me’, got it? Everyone ready? Scene 2, take 2, aand action!"

Silence fell upon the watching crew members. This way, it was easy to erase their presence and give your attention to Yoongi. 

"Hold yourself open for me." Softly, he whispered, his voice smooth like liquid silk.

You reached behind you, fingers gripping your now sore skin, and held yourself open so that he could inspect your pussy. His hot breath fanned over your backside, and it took all of your strength not to squirm away from his proximity.

"Look how easy you are. Head down, ass up like a bitch in heat."  Every word had you spiraling deeper into submission. You whimpered, low in your throat, the degrading words making you throb, "I bet Taehyung had no trouble at all sliding in this greedy cunt. You probably asked for it, didn't you? Can't live without something filling this hole up."

"Silly slut," he pinched your throbbing clit, ripping a pained yelp from your throat. "Your pussy is mine. Only I get to cum inside. You take my cum, and only when I think you're worthy enough for my seed."

The thought of belonging to him, of having him use you like his own personal plaything, made your body quiver with desire. More than anything, you wanted him to fuck you good, to take what belonged to him. In that moment, you were his. His voice controlled you, his hands disciplined you, his cock would reward you. Every inch of your pleasure belonged to him.

Your mouth watered—a burning thirst raging inside of you. You were more than convinced you would be willing to do anything to douse the ache that ate away at the remaining bits of your sanity. "I only want your cock, sir. No one gives it to me like you, I can only cum with your cum inside of me."

"Get your fingers nice and wet, slut. Get yourself clean and ready for me."

The slippery fluid inside of you felt no different than cold lube. As your fingers pumped in and out of your tight hole, the mixture spilled out of you, staining the insides of your thighs with opaque white. The mess you were making was of little importance—all of your senses were focused instead on your burgeoning orgasm. Yoongi had already wound you up so tightly that you felt the coil inside of you ready to snap at a moment's notice. 

Suddenly you remembered that Yoongi was watching your performance with hawk eyes. Afraid of the consequences you would have to face if you came without permission, you slowed down your movements, hoping he would allow you at least this. 

But no such mercy came. The sharp sting on the side of your right cheek made you lurch forward, your knees sliding against the sleek and polished surface. Yoongi's hands were instantly by your hips, grounding you in place. His strong grip made your worries ebb away; you trusted him to keep you from toppling over onto the ground. 

The stark contrast between Yoongi’s reassuring touch and the hard edge in his tone was startling. "Is all of his cum out yet? No? Then get back to work," he snapped out his command, his hands now spreading your cheeks wide open so that he and the camera could have a perfect view of your messy pussy. “Look how fucking filthy you are, it’s leaking all over. Just how much cock did you take for it to make so much of a mess?”

You could feel your skin heating up again, his lewd commentary setting you aflame with renewed desire. Your fingers worked the cum-colored lube out of your core, every loud squelch picked up by the cameras. Mouth parted; whine after whine escaped from your lips. Your need for release was becoming more unbearable by the second, and you were reaching that point where the consequences of your actions started to matter little.

“Little slut wants to cum?” The mocking lilt in Yoongi’s voice told you he wasn’t going to let you have it easy. Your head lolled forward, resigning yourself to more of what he had in store for you. “You won’t, and want to know why?”

He wound his fingers through your tresses, before yanking hard. Your scalp burned and you had no choice but to tilt your head back and meet his steely stare. From above, he exuded dominance and authority; his icy expression and firm grip in your hair challenging you to not break eye contact. 

“No, sir,” you rasped, finding it hard to form the words with the way your head was bent backwards. 

“You won’t because dirty whores can only cum with a fat cock inside of them, isn’t that right?” He spat, his features twisting almost as if he was disgusted with you. 

But you knew that was far from the truth. After all, you weren’t blind to the way his pupils were dilated—only a thin circle of brown was left, the hunger in his eyes having eclipsed the rest. His nostrils flared when you mewled in response to the humiliation—another visible sign of his arousal. You knew he wanted you, but the problem was that he, unlike you, had perfect control over his desire. 

Try as you might, it was impossible to taper the need pulsing between your thighs. You craved it as much as the air you breathed. 

“I can only cum if I have you inside me,” you sobbed, giving in completely. Any reservations were gone; you knew you would do anything to please this man. Hand still buried in your cunt, you begged, “My pleasure is yours, sir. I’m want—only want your thick cock inside of me, please take what’s yours. I’m yours, just yours. I’m a dirty slut, please u—use me.”

Shivers wracked through your frame when you heard him slide down his zipper. All of your senses were trained on him, your body reacting to even the slightest rustle of clothes. 

“Good slut.” The silken croon made its way to your ears and you closed your eyes, letting the praise wash over you. “Let me see if your cunt’s ready for me.” When Yoongi easily replaced your fingers with his own, you instantly felt the stretch. He crooked his digits inside of you, listening to your needy whimpers with relish. Two fingers quickly became three, the force of his thrusts never slowing down. 

“I’m going to fuck you from behind, slut. But that’s how you like it, don’t you?” You sniffled, not trying to refute the claim. To be taken from behind like some animal in heat, forced to submit to the brunt of his passion... When he phrased it like that, it sounded so humiliating, so degrading. Here you were, bent and kneeling on a desk, your naked ass perked up for his viewing pleasure, just like the common slut he was accusing you of being. “Like a good little bitch.”

You didn’t deny his accusations because you knew it to be true. Your breasts only got this sensitive if you were ovulating or if you were really turned on. And there was no use denying the former, not with the way your cunt was shiny and drenched with your own fluids. 

“Bend over the desk properly if you want to get fucked.” 

Never before had you completed a task with so much enthusiasm. You stretched your limbs out, your feet finding purchase on the ground while your hands gripped the edge of the desk. Excitement pooled in your gut; you had never felt so eager for a fucking before. You were unsure how much time had passed since the start of the shoot, but it somehow felt like lifetimes ago. You had been ready for his cock half a century ago.

It seemed like Yoongi was done dawdling around as well. He eased the tip of his cock inside of you. There was so much of your slick and lube, that it took two, three tries before successfully pushing in. You let out a shaky breath, body shuddering. Above you, Yoongi let out a grunt, his hands kneading your reddened flesh between his fingers. He kept you open for him, his attention fixed on the way your warm walls gripped his head snugly, eager to be fed more. Unable to form coherent words, you clenched around him, attempting to draw him in deeper. 

“A perfect plaything, letting me use her up however I want.” His words cut off into a growl as he bottomed out, his balls slapping against you. Your eyes watered, the girth of his hardened shaft stretching you out deliciously. Sweat beaded at your brow as you struggled to stay still for him, wanting him to use you as he pleased. 

Yoongi started up an easy rhythm, each of his thrusts making you slide across the surface of the desk. You felt stimulated from all over—you stiff nipples rubbed against the polished wood while his cock worked its way inside of you. Expletives intermingled with the occasional praise; and his grunts of satisfaction coaxed out your moans of pleasure. 

“Tell me, can Taehyung fuck you this good?” 

Distantly, you recognized this as a line from the script and your body reacted as if on auto-pilot. “No one can fuck me as good as you.” 

“Is that right? Then why did you let him inside your cunt?” A deep thrust made you choke out a high-pitched moan, the sound slutty even to your own ears. He stayed buried deep inside of you, but you barely had time to catch your breath before he tightened his fingers around your locks and pulled. Using the grip in your hair to guide you into the position he desired, he yanked you upwards, your shaking arms now propping your upper body up. 

“B-because I’m a slut,” you admitted, your head hanging low in shame. You weren’t even sure if it was an act or not, but the words seemed to spur him on even more, his thrusts speeding up once again. “I like having cum inside of me.”

“A cumslut, huh?” You struggled to stay propped up, but every harsh piston of his hips made stability difficult to maintain. “Can’t go without a man’s cum filling you up. You like being a cumdump for men that much?”

“O-only yours, only for you.” 

“That’s right. I own this slutty cunt.” Yoongi brought his mouth close to your ear, his teeth biting your lobe before mouthing down the side of your neck. As he left a trail of hot kisses down the column of your neck, he brought his hands up to cup your breasts, feeling them bounce in his hold with every slap of his hips against your own. You felt his breathing becoming ragged, the sound doing things to your insides.

He sunk his fingers in the supple flesh, probably leaving another set of marks to match the ones on your hips and ass, and used his hold as leverage to fuck into you faster. Every thrust inside you knocked the breath out of you—your desire spiraling to new heights with each whispered word into your ear. The pleasure started to become too much to bear and you clenched around his length to signal your approaching orgasm. 

“You’re gonna cum already? Should’ve known a slut like you wouldn’t be able to control herself when fed the right cock.” He didn’t slow down at all, his cock impaling you over and over again with no reprieve in sight. You knew if he kept this up, you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself back anymore.

“Please sir, let me cum,” you begged, your plea coming out in short pants. You didn’t know which one would give out first—your legs or your arms. The only thing that kept you upright and standing were Yoongi’s hands kneading your breasts and his hips pinning yours to the desk. 

Yoongi released your nipple with a hard tug, the free hand snaking up to your parted mouth. Instinctively, your lips wrapped around the invading digits, sucking it like it would a cock. “So greedy. You don’t get to make the demands here, slut. But I’ll be nice today because you took your spanking so well. Go on then, little slut.”

The fact that you couldn’t even see the fact of the person who was stuffing two of your holes made the fucking so impersonal. A new wave of shame swept over you, and you felt like you could drown in it. Your body thrashed in his hold, a lightning bolt of pleasure zapping through your entire body and making you starry-eyed. Your entire world shrunk, until all you knew was him and the thick cock spearing you open.  

Yoongi’s hips stuttered, his own release in reach. You felt his length twitch inside you but he quickly pulled out, his right hand stroking his slick shaft in furious strokes. You barely registered the first spurt of semen land on your well fucked pussy, the rest of his seed painting your lower lips in fields of white. 

The force of your orgasm wiped you out and you took a few seconds to regain your bearings, eyes still closed, blocking out the outside world.

It took several moments for you to be brought back to reality, spots of light still dancing in your vision whenever you blinked. Your chest heaved from exertion, your eyes watery. Your body felt incredibly light, like you could float away from the ground at any moment like a hot air balloon.

“____?” Someone repeated your name, trying to snap you out of your daze by shaking your shoulders. “Here’s some water.” A set of arms helped you sit up, and a cold glass of water was pushed into your numbed hands. “You did so well! There was no reason to be nervous, I knew you would do great.”

Belatedly, you realized that it was your agent speaking to you. He wrapped your shoulders in a pink, fluffy bathrobe—the soft fabric a welcome comfort. Seokjin showered you in praises, asking if you need anything more, but his voice faded into white noise. Your eyes flitted around the room, restless, searching.

As if feeling the weight of your gaze on him, Yoongi looked up from his phone and smiled at you. Even if his cheeks were flushed pink and his hair matted with sweat, he looked infinitely more composed than you felt. Biting the inside of your cheek, you wondered how you could possibly approach him. 

A faint buzzing pulled you from your train of thought. When you looked down, you saw a message light up the screen of your phone. Your thumb swiped the surface so that the newest message could fill up the entire screen.

 [unknown number] : hey. i cant wait to work with you again ;-)

 .

.

.

[edit: short continuation.]

Although your body was thoroughly sated, there was still an eagerness that hadn’t been completely quashed. You were still drunk off your high, your body now hooked to Yoongi’s touch. You wanted a repeat. Badly.

After the initial swell of elation had ebbed, you steadied your trembling fingers to type out a hurried reply. Thank God for autocorrect was your first coherent thought. You weren’t sure if your inability to spell the simplest of words was because of your stubby thumbs or because Yoongi had fucked every last feeling out of your body, leaving you numb all over. Did it even matter? The end result was the same, either way.

A minute passed. Your thumbs stumbled across the keyboard in your rushed attempt to correctly type out your response. It took another two tries before you finally succeeded in writing a message that was 1) free of spelling mistakes and 2) simultaneously made your intentions obvious (a flirtatious winky face included for good measure). However right before you were about to hit ‘send’, a new set of vibrations put a halt to your actions.

[unknown number] : i’m jimin btw. :) the 2nd AC.

What?

[unknown number] : you look really pretty on camera :)

[unknown number] : and in real life too! not just on camera.

[unknown number] : sorry if i sound so forward. but it’s been a long time sinc—

Your brain screeched to a halt as more messages flooded in, one right after the other.

Jimin…the second assistant cameraman?

.

(edit added 12.08)

.

.

ɛ sequel here ! ᴈ

[thebackloggamer]

Castlevania: Lords of Shadow

I love Castlevania. I’ve recently played most of the games in the series and have enjoyed them greatly. Lords of Shadow has always intrigued me, but now that I have actual real experience with the series, I knew I had to move it up my backlog.

Here is a game sporting the name of one of the most legendary and long lived video game franchises and yet it has very little to do with the games that came before it. Instead of the series’ now classic 2D-platformer-action-adventure-RPG style, this one is straight up a 3D action-adventure hack and slash game à la God of War or Devil May Cry.

Also, there’s a completely original story that reboots the series and has nothing to do with the lore and events that have transpired during the series’ history. There are certain nods to the old games for sure. We sill play as a Belmont; and the theme for enemies and locations is similar. We still have demons, vampires, werewolves and all manner of creatures of the night. Other than that, however, this is a completely new world with new characters, lore and plot.

Well, it may not be classic Castlevania but that doesn’t mean it can’t be a good game... Well I think that’s true and, overall, I found this to be a pretty good, albeit flawed, game. Let’s get the bad stuff out of the way first.

The bad stuff

This game has many flaws gameplay wise. I think the most egregious one is the extensive use of invisible walls. At the earlier parts of the game, if felt like almost everywhere I tried to go there was an invisible wall. There was so much restriction of movement. That was beyond frustrating to me. And I never care too much, let alone complain, about things like these in games. But here, I felt it was just too much.

The worst part is that most of them are located in places where there’s no visual cue whatsoever that would tell you you can’t walk or jump  through. I would go as far as to say that some places were even inviting until you tried to go through and hit the damn wall. Anyway, the good thing is that this problem gets so much less severe as the game progresses. I don’t know if it was just me getting used to it but later in the game these issues were basically all but gone. Those early levels though... Ugh. Not a fan.

In this corridor, you can only walk over the blue area :(

The invisible walls problem is part of a bigger issue of the game not effectively communicating what actions the player can and can’t do at any given moment. This is specifically apparent with the rappel mechanic, where you are always able to climb up and down the rope but only sometimes you can and run along the wall to the left or right in a sort of swinging motion. The game never tells you or lets you know when you can and when you can not.

Also, another part that I really found troublesome was the camera work. This game is a 3rd person action game but you can’t freely control the camera. The camera is always fixed and, as you move from scene to scene it moves around. Sort of like classic Resident Evil (1, 2, 3 and Code Veronica) where the camera changes as you traverse corridors and rooms. The difference is that Resident Evil had pre-rendered backgrounds and system limitations that the developers had to deal with. I don’t understand why a 3D action game from last generation would decide to go with a camera design like that. Anyway, that’s beside the point. To be fair, games like Devil May Cry and God of War (games from which Lords of Shadow borrows a lot in terms of game design) also use this style of camera. The problem here was that sometimes I felt it was disorienting, prompting one to get lost in some of the more intricate levels. I don’t want to make this sound like it’s a big deal though, because it’s not. It’s nevertheless, something that bothered me from time to time.

The good stuff

Despite its (sometimes infuriating) flaws, I ended up greatly enjoying this game. I think the aspect where this game excels the most is in its overall presentation. The game looks truly great with gorgeous vistas and flashy special effects. There’s also great variety in environments: we’ve got swamps, towers, lost cities, caves and everything in between. The overall art direction is incredible, from the characters to the enemies to the levels. Everything looks beautiful.

Oh yeah take it all in.

Even the menus look great. The menus in this game are stylized as a book that you use to look up things like attack combos, enemies descriptions and weaknesses, weapons, sub-weapons and other collectibles. Everything is accompanied with some beautiful hand drawn art. For the combos, there are even small hand drawn animations that show Gabriel (the protagonist, who you play as) performing them. An overall a great execution.

The art in these menus is beautiful.

I specially like how much care was put into building the world. Not only are the characters expertly designed, but there’s also lore that further enhances both the world and the game’s plot by shedding light into how things are and how they used to be in this universe. It certainly looks like the developers put a ton of effort in building a strong foundation for a new series mythos. I think they succeeded in that.

Also the game’s plot itself is pretty enjoyable. With fun characters and situations and good twists and turns.

In terms of game mechanics, the game is your typical God of War-esque, action affair. There are weak and heavy attack buttons that when pushed repeatedly chain together into various combos that you unlock as you progress trough the game and get stronger. There are two types of magic: blue and red. Using the red one makes you hit harder while the blue one replenishes your health with each hit. These are expendable resources, so managing them smartly is in your best interest. Also, there’s a focus mechanic that kicks in if you fight without getting hit for a while. This makes enemies drop magic replenishing items which you need to chose if it goes to the blue or the red magic. 

There are also your usual dodge, block and counter mechanics. Counters are interesting. They are performed by blocking at the last minute before getting hit. Successful counters are rewarded by a boost in focus, but getting hit makes one lose all of their focus. This introduces a nice risk vs reward mechanic because you need to decide if you want to risk getting hit by trying to counter instead of just dodging.

All of these together make for a level of strategy that results in a game that rewards finesse, preventing the battles to degrading into mindless button mashing.

The combat system is pretty interesting overall. Just complex enough to have a good time but not be overwhelmed. It truly shines with some of the game’s most inventive bosses and enemies that put your skills to the test. Not everything is flawless here though as some of the bosses are just plain cheap making for some frustrating difficulty spikes. Other are just plain boring. Luckily most of them are pretty fun and unique.

At the end of the day, in spite of its flaws, I really enjoyed Castlevania: Lords of Shadow. It’s a beautiful looking game with some pretty cool environments and a fun combat style. It even got me interested in playing the sequel.

[kathrwn]

Lana Del Rey is rotting your brain

Read with footnotes here.

We hold these truths to be self-evident: Lana Del Rey does not exist. No, since she is the character performed by the artist Lizzie Grant, whose uncritical approach to American nostalgia does more to invoke the helplessness of American apocalyptica than to make us yearn for simpler times. And just as Lana does not exist, neither does any depth to the project of Miss Del Rey. Between winged eyeliner, prairie dust photo filters, and an affected croon, Lana Del Rey manages to be both campy and pretentious, and does neither particularly well. 

Looking at Lana Del Rey music videos, there are similarities which together comprise a Lana “image,” or a sort of aesthetic uniform which unites the Lana Del Rey Cinematic Universe. Often there are post-production filters which evoke old-school photographs of your mom’s cousin in the 60s, references to film and music stars of the 50s, and a misplaced fetish for the “good ol’ days” of America which turns grit into surface-level beauty. 

Thematic focus is good, especially when the singer is a construction, like Lana is. Critics are quick to notice her sharp devotion to her bit, calling her music a “Southern Californian dream world constructed out of sad girls and bad boys, manufactured melancholy and genuine glamour,” or “a blown-out Hollywood production.” Lana has described herself as a “Lolita got lost in the hood” or even a “Gangsta Nancy Sinatra” which critics have called straight “manufactured.” 

While plenty of songstresses presently play with the heights of glamour that women are expected to summit in the spotlight--Lady Gaga, Cher, and Dolly Parton come to mind instantly--many of them inject irony or camp into their performances, their outfits, their presentation. Parton in particular loves to joke about herself, famously quipping “I'm not offended by all the dumb blonde jokes because I know I'm not dumb... and I also know that I'm not blonde.” 

It undeniable to say these three women also play characters in their music--Lady Gaga is not nobility, Cher’s Twitter is filled with political commentary, Dolly Parton is, of course, not even blond. Lana also plays a character, but why is the Lana character a failure compared to the others? It’s not for want of production--many women pop stars are over-, perhaps even hyper-produced to drive the point home about the disinfectant power pop music holds over artists. Lana is also over-produced, somehow giving her music an auditory sepia tone, as though it were a film from the Golden Age of Hollywood.

But perhaps that’s it--Lana, as a character, is reactionary. She invokes a time well-past, and one well-past for good reason. The 50s and 60s were not heavenly for all, certainly not for black people, not for gay people, nor political dissidents. Lana’s music draws on themes that attempt to highlight the teeming hate and anger of midcentury America, but ultimately fail when she refers to herself as “[y]our Venice bitch” and prides herself on wearing “his favorite sundress” but with a strange sincerity. Often times, Lana infantilizes herself, referring to her lover as “Daddy,” or worrying that he is so superficial he might not love her, perhaps most famously, when she is “no longer young and beautiful.” 

That is not to say that Lana is vapid, but she has adopted the veneer of being so. She has unwittingly become a crooner for the past when her worth was tied to a sexual currency. Her uncritical love for glam and grand cinematisme is part of her pastiche act. But because she is nostalgic, and rarely, if ever, scathing when she sings about outdated courtship and relationship dynamics, she shows just how empty her actual songs are. In dying to know if she will be loved when her skin is no longer elastic, Lana never manages to find validation and closure in herself, instead tying her worth even tighter to a man she calls her “sun,” who plays with her “like a child.” Cool and normal. Newer songs follow this same trend, with cuts like “You’re beautiful and I’m insane, We’re American made” doing little to flatter herself, then listing off American inventions like “Hallmark” and “Norman Rockwell.” (The Norman Rockwell thing is especially weird when she follows it immediately with references to sex and then calling herself--again!--“your little Venice bitch.”) 

There’s nothing many Americans love more than Americana and sincerely yearning for a time they never experienced. Lana, perhaps, is the most “I was born in the wrong decade” singer to grace our airways. Her songs make love, even uneven and abusive love, the ultimate goal. Letting summer--a time that is eternal in the LDRCU and, supposedly, California--wash over her and her lovers until the cocaine and ocean consume them. 

Then, it’s no surprise this cheeky political compass places Lana in the libertarian right segment--she is made to sell, to hit some pleasure center in impressionable brains, to be a sweet spot in pop music that guarantees profits will be made from her work. Her songs are chock full of concrete imagery, which allows them to become realized in her audience's mind, rather than relying on letting the listener make their own emotional connections. There is nothing wrong with that, but it shows why the Del Rey song formula is as successful as it is soulless.

Take, for instance, her famous “Summertime Sadness.” From the red dress she wears, to the pale moonlight, to the “telephone wires above... Sizzling like a snare” we can recreate the scene in our heads. These lines are so evocative, so palpable in what they describe, it wouldn’t be hard at all to envision yourself standing in her same pair of high heels.

However, there is a marked absence of irony or self-awareness in her discography. Her sincerity is her downfall. When she sings “Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain, You like your girls insane,” does she mean it. And she really means it. She prides herself on her lyrical tendency to degrade women. 

This is not a new criticism of Lana. She herself has said “the issue of feminism is just not an interesting concept. I’m more interested in, you know, SpaceX and Tesla, what’s going to happen with our intergalactic possibilities. Whenever people bring up feminism, I’m like, ‘God, I’m just not really that interested,'” which is proof that Lana is so massively lacking in any self-awareness that her music becomes pointless, useless, and dumb. How is being interested in SpaceX and Tesla at all incompatible with the basic philosophy of women’s liberation and complete personhood? What about the women who were unable to be astrophysicists in the past, but are now writing the algorithms that take us to those “intergalactic possibilities”? How about the droves of young women who unironically listen to this schlock, call themselves insane, and then have no clue how to be a part of a functioning, normal relationship, because they think they have to be a crazy minx? Actually, even better, what about the bat shit insane way Elon Musk treats women, like when he famously pulled his bride aside and told her he was “the alpha.” It’s just bonkers how popular Lana Del Rey’s line of thinking is. That somehow feminism is incompatible with the fetishism of science? 

Perhaps that’s where Lana Del Rey stands out. As soft rock and easy listening DJs give us “Fight Song” and “Firework” ad nauseum, we have grown weary of the female empowerment song. Any song that wasn’t “You’re So Vain,” is extraneous to the genre of girl power pop. Maybe this makes Lana appealing, if only because she shakes up our expectations. Her yearning is to be submissive, not to be dominant, a far cry from the way many chanteuses have embodied the lyrics of Patti Page’s “Conquest.”

If that were all, maybe it could be forgiven. It would be a sweet rebellion against the popular themes of the day, one that has its problems but isn’t overly regressive. Only, the more you dig, the worse it becomes. Not just the content of her lyrics, and her constant playing of the damsel, but the visuals she chooses to use in her videos and albums are beyond simply self-stylized misogyny. Lana has a nasty habit of racializing her character, trying to make simple the complex legacy of mid-century American counter culture.

For instance, in her epic three-song music video Tropico, Lana appears to us in several visions. Once as Eve, once as a sex worker, once as a woman escaped from the city to be with her lover. The first one is the color of the dream of a flower-crown-era-Tumblr aesthetic blogger, the last is similarly as harmless. But that one in the middle is an iffy exploration of the actual economic conditions of sex workers, but absurdly tone deaf in the light of her comments about feminism. And all of the above is extremely tone deaf within the LDRCU. Is she supposed to be the girlfriend of a gang member, styled in heavy eyeliner and bandanas reminiscent of cholo culture? Or is she, as is inline with much of the rest of her videography, an upper-crust, Jackie-O-esque trophy wife with a listless stare? Neither are particularly good characters to play, relying on stereotypes and hazy filters to get the point across. 

But Lana has always had an issue with understanding the fundamental issues of her middle-distance gaze into American history. Yes, it’s cool Lana has A$AP Rocky play Kennedy, that’s pretty neat; but it’s also extremely uncool to do so while adopting a Cuban-sounding name while turning up the nostalgia factor on figures who, like Kennedy, did great harm to Cuban and Cuban-Americans. The conflict she creates within her own character is glossed over by her, and much of her audience. While critical pieces of Lana do exist, many fans--including myself at times!--get lost in her Venice Beach Baddie persona, and forget her self-awareness trends in the wrong direction. 

With the release of “Norman Fucking Rockwell” on the horizon (at the time of writing), though, we’re going to have to ask ourselves--is that a normal name for an album, or are we all having a collective fever dream? 

[stringnarratives]

The Unexpected Virtue of Losing Touch With Reality: “Birdman”

[I wrote the below essay on “Birdman, or the Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance” just after its wider theatrical release in 2014, two weeks before the film was awarded Best Picture at the Academy Awards. Written for an art criticism class, it’s ironically less academic than most of the articles I post to the blog -- a little less analysis and a little more review -- but I still find myself going back to read it around Oscar’s season, and thought I’d share it this evening. Spoilers ahead for this and a handful of other films. Enjoy.] 

I was under the impression that Alejandro González Iñárritu’s newest film, Birdman, or the Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance starring Michael Keaton, Emma Stone, and Ed Norton, was a “dramady,” an amusing-enough film with a fair amount of emotional impact. A feel-good film, perhaps. A little off-beat, but nothing too deep or too sinister to be categorized as anything that I would think about longer than until the end of the night.

Fortunately, I was very wrong.

The dramatic film, which has been nominated for nine Academy Awards this year, focuses on washed up action film superstar Riggan Thomson as he struggles to direct a successful Broadway play, breathe life back into his acting career, rekindle a relationship with his formerly drug-addicted daughter, and reconcile a past that has left him a legend with a future that has found him a virtual nobody. Taunted constantly and sometimes violently by his own alter ego— the titular superhero he once played on-screen and who he still, in his mind, could be— he bumbles through each challenge with a strange brand of dignity, a craving for acceptance but a stubbornness that dictates that he must have it on his own terms.

Birdman and reality have a strange and sometimes uncomfortable relationship in the same way Fight Club did, in the same way the Matrix did, and—in some aspects— the same way that Inception did. It’s a heavy film, but one so interspersed with the “meta,” the subconscious thoughts of a man who we as viewers really only follow through the film, that the heaviness takes on the swirling lights of lunacy almost as much as the sharp clarity of some painful reality. We are left wondering what is real, what is only in Riggan’s mind. Overall, we can not be entirely sure what will happen to Riggan Thomson, nor what has happened to him in the past. We can only live in the quickly-moving present.

The artistry behind pulling us into this shadowy and fluid world is brilliantly calculated, taking our world and placing it in the fictional, reflecting it back at us in a way that is strange and distorted, though familiar. Most of—if not all of— the music in the movie is strategically diegetic, and occasionally the camera pans over to show a street performer, to give us context to the world in which we have been placed. Throughout Birdman, we are reminded, in purposeful irony, of the world of the real-life action stars, the blockbuster screens where capes and explosive special effects still dazzle audiences, including, maybe even ourselves.

And then we are reminded that this is not one of those movies, but perhaps the unmade sequel, “the fourth movie” referenced several times during the film. This is the story of what happens after Captain America or Batman or Spiderman ends. This is the story of a man who was once a hero, is remembered as a hero, but who is no longer, who is catapulted back onto the artistic scene after years in the shadows.

That man is as much Michael Keaton (the artist formerly known as Batman) as it is Riggan Thomson.

Whether it was some sort of self-fulfilled prophecy, an uncanny self-awareness, or an abundance of confidence on behalf of both Michael Keaton and the team behind the film, we cannot say for sure, though other casting decisions may persuade us to say that it was no mistake. Who else, for example, knows more about a movie about yielding to the advice of a violent alter ego than Edward Norton, the star of the 1999 film Fight Club? And Emma Stone, fresh from the most recent Amazing Spiderman franchise due to her character’s death, surely knows something about getting the boot from the action film industry.

The filming of the movie is reminiscent of that in Alfred Hitchcock’s classic film Rope, a seamlessly edited string of shots that gives the impression that the whole thing was filmed in one long take. This in particular lends to the whole film a feeling of stage-production, of watching a play, with actors coming on and off stage, the action typically focusing on whatever character has the most dialogue at the time. With it comes a level of dramatic irony not usually present within film: in one particular scene, Stone’s character Sam Thomson is just off-screen, hiding in the dressing room while another character degrades her her to Norton’s Mike Shiner. We are present for an odd little subplot in which two of the actresses in Riggan’s show discuss him and then make out backstage. That kind of detail, even in the strange little diversions, gives the audience a certain presence in the movie.

The typical three-shot shooting process is also, for the most part, absent from the fabric of the film; we are not presented only with a person, a thing, and the person’s reaction to the thing. Rather, we are left several times to focus on one character’s reaction to whatever is happening outside of our view. For example, after an explosive argument between Sam and Riggan, the camera lingers on Sam’s face instead of cutting to Riggan’s, watching her expression fall from tension and anger to something very near regret. The strategy works poignantly in the study of character in the film and even goes so far as to contribute to the very symbolic— though highly ambiguous— ending.

The characters themselves serve an important role (no pun intended) in making the film the artistic statement that it is. Their emotions, the fluid way that the actors interact with the camera, make them seem a part of our reality in an almost high definition way. Emma Stone’s pale, fragile-looking physique, her wide, wild eyes and her withdrawn, timid demeanor make her role as a recovering addict believable. Michael Keaton’s tiredness, his very real connection with his character, add to the Riggan Thomson that the audience sees on screen. Even Edward Norton’s theatrical range, his capacity to be both amusing and, at times, frightening in his intensity, works for the betterment of Birdman. But at the same time, even the characters are both very literally and figuratively acting, feigning happiness or health, playing for an audience of their peers and those they wish to impress.

Keaton’s character obviously suffers from some breed of depression; schizophrenia, in some interpretations of his very talkative alter ego, may not even be a far-off diagnosis. Stone’s character continues to have issues with addiction and dealing with a broken family. Norton is addicted to grandeur, but is unable to function when he is not onstage or preparing to be on stage. They are all only striving to achieve the flimsy appearance of normality, all of them fighting the nagging concept of their own “Birdman,” their pasts and the consequences that have resulted from the decisions they have made.

For all of these things, though, for better or for worse, there was no battle scene. The bad guy was never slayed; there was no bad guy to slay. There was no enormous and cathartic climax for the viewer to rely on, only a single tense event that leads us further down the rabbit hole in the two-hour-long game of real-or-not-real. Which, in true form to its being poised as the anti-hero movie, the film may have benefitted from in some literary way. While it progressed fine without the hero moment, the movie had a subtly intense plot that may leave the viewer feeling stressed and unfulfilled, especially since this plot ended fairly vaguely. Leaving the theater, one might not know what to think, may be overwhelmed by the little knots of tension that dotted the film.

But, at least, you leave the theater feeling something.

From start to finish, Birdman is a film filled with distorted reflections of our own reality, our world seen from a funhouse mirror. While it may not be the cup of tea of those looking for a thrill ride, for an action film, for something more than, simply, a weird study of humanity and the theater, it was a film that can be commended for its daring technical aspects and its attempts to reach out towards a deeper meaning. Keaton, Stone, and Norton made the film a success, and it is likely that they will reap the rewards of their hard work during the upcoming awards season. But, in the end, it is the work of a whole team to produce a film such as this, with detailed artistry, unorthodox approaches to modern philosophy and just overall cleverness giving Birdman, or the Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance its wings.

[spicynbachili1]

Monster Hunter: World guide: monster hunting basics, combat tips

Since Monster Hunter: World‘s PC model was launched, we’ve seen a gentle string of updates and occasions to maintain gamers coming again. Even after a short while away from the sport, it may be reasonably intimidating to leap again in for a brand new facet quest or monster battle. So to be able to degree the talent hole between devoted and rare gamers, this information will carry everybody in control with what to anticipate on this deceptively taxing sport.

Monster Hunter: World information

After creating your character and his cute Palico sidekick, it’s time to enterprise into the world of Monster Hunter. This isn’t a sport the place you get instantaneous gratification upon defeating a monster for the primary time; you’ll have to do issues over, and over, till you’ve gotten the sources wanted to craft higher gear for the following huge hunt. You’ll quickly start to note issues getting so much simpler.

Whereas we can be going into element within the subsequent guides on the extra advanced issues concerning the sport, this information will deal with the issues you need to know going into Monster Hunter: World. It’s an enormous sport and step one is to get a common thought of how the sport performs. In any case, some issues will not be particularly apparent when first beginning out they usually’re not very effectively defined in-game both.

PC particular guides

Particular person monster guides

The place to search out the armoury in Astera – Monster Hunter: World hub

The primary hub space of Astera is a large, bustling place, full of individuals plying their commerce for that all-important Zenny. It’s due to this fact a bit of intimidating for newer gamers to make sense of what’s on provide. You’re proven round a bit of bit while you begin out, with the Smithy and Canteen being highlighted, however every thing else is left so that you can uncover. You’ll be able to carry up the map and hover over sure icons to indicate the place issues are, however accessing them isn’t 100% apparent and never every thing is unlocked instantly to be used.

On the bottom ground is the place the Tradeyard is. This consists of the availability store, the bounty request, and a brief climb up the steps to the north are the ecological and botanical analysis centres. That is additionally the place the large desk that has every commander gathered round it, in addition to your quarters to permit for accessing the coaching space and your Palico’s stock. Ultimately you’ll additionally unlock the flexibility to transmute gadgets into different gadgets, which can be positioned close by the availability store.

As for the place the armoury is, the second ground homes the Smithy and the Armourer and also you’ll be spending plenty of time right here; crafting new gadgets and upgrading them to have the ability to tackle new and extra harmful monsters. At all times examine right here for if the gadgets you obtained are sufficient to improve your gear. For extra info on weapons, examine our Monster Hunter: World fight information.

Those that are a bit peckish can take a look at the third ground the place the Canteen is. Not solely are you able to seize a chunk to eat earlier than your subsequent journey, however you may as well full just a few quests to unlock new meal choices. That is all the time the popular methodology for getting your grub on earlier than venturing out on a hunt. You can even discover your Watcher on this ground.

Up yet another ground is the Gathering Hub, the place you’ll be able to work together with different gamers on-line, seize a chunk to eat collectively, tackle the assorted Enviornment challenges, and discover your fellow gamers on the server to go and hunt a sure sort of monster.

What’s within the Analysis Base?

At a sure level within the sport, you’ll awaken in some sort of base. This acts as a secondary hub, although nowhere close to as filled with issues to do. It has its personal store, however the principle cause to maintain coming again right here is the Tailraider Safari. This lets you ship a bunch of Palico off on their very own little expedition at the price of some research factors. Every safari consists of 5 acts with stars indicating problem, with every specializing in a talent set: Looking, Gathering, and Analysis. Matching the squad’s proficiency with the fitting duties is the easiest way to enhance their possibilities of success, thus gaining higher loot than in the event that they fail.

Nevertheless it does turn into barely irrelevant while you’ve upgraded your room in Astera, because the Palico attendant will even be capable to dispatch Palico adventurers on Safari. You received’t nonetheless get that reasonably cute cut-scene, so it’s as much as you whether or not the journey is price it.

Ideas for searching in Monster Hunter: World

Now you realize the large issues that you must know entering into, there are some smaller particulars that you need to all the time preserve behind your thoughts always. In any case, there’s nothing worse than being unprepared and making a idiot of your self.

At all times be upgrading your gear

First issues first, attempt to not hoard gadgets for upgrades. As quickly as you’ll be able to enhance your weapons and armour, achieve this. Because you’ll be making a bunch of various ones to fight completely different strengths and weaknesses of the monsters you’re attempting to hunt, it’s finest to be ready. You’ll be able to all the time take a look at our Monster Hunter: World armour information for extra on that. If you happen to don’t have the required gadgets required for mentioned improve, chances are you’ll have to go and hunt particular monsters to acquire the components required for every hunt, simply be certain to try our Monster Hunter: World supplies information for particulars on the place to search out every merchandise.

At all times preserve your weapon sharp

It might be tempting to only chase after a monster when it flees, however your weapon degrades because the battle goes on. Weapons have a sure diploma of most sharpness, indicated by the colored bar within the gear display. You’ll need to preserve it as excessive as you’ll be able to as it will maximise your injury output. There can be instances the place you must sharpen weapons a number of instances, however it’s price taking out the time to take action.

Change up your weapons

It might be tempting to decide on a selected weapon sort and keep it up throughout your time with Monster Hunter: World. Don’t. There are weaknesses of monsters which might be came upon by means of analysis, and a few embody utilizing sure weapon varieties to take action.

A very good early instance of that is utilizing heavy hitting weapons on the Nice Jagras’s face, forearms, and torso can break them when hit sufficient, inflicting huge injury and knocking the creature inclined. If you happen to didn’t carry a weapon such because the hammer and as a substitute opted for twin daggers, you’ll by no means be capable to exploit that weak spot. Most enemies have a number of weak factors and elemental weaknesses, so ensure you put together for that.

Additionally, don’t be afraid to study the stream of fight. Monster Hunter: World’s preventing is methodical at instances, so realizing the best way to strike and the way your chosen weapons work is vital to mastering the sport. You’ll be able to all the time take a look at the coaching space discovered in your house to check out weapons to get a really feel for a way they work, however practising just a few decrease degree hunts together with your new weapon is the easiest way to get a really feel for the best way to use them successfully.

Farm Nice Jagras supplies for early Zenny

As for acquiring Zenny, a superb and simple option to get a number of Zenny early on is to repeatedly hunt the Nice Jagras within the Historical Forest. If you happen to begin within the south-west camp, the monster will almost all the time be in the direction of the north-east of your place within the open space the place the Kestrodon dwell, as it’s their prey. Since every massive scale sells for 1000 Zenny, whereas small scales promote for 500, it’s a great way to get cash quick.

Simply bear in mind the sell-all possibility after every hunt sells every thing you get for rewards, together with uncommon gadgets, so ensure you don’t have something you want earlier than clicking that possibility. In a while, cash isn’t as a lot of an possibility because of trade-in gadgets that may be often introduced into Astera, however for those who’re brief on money early on, this can be a good income.

Put together for every hunt

Preparation is the large factor to all the time keep in mind earlier than going off on a hunt. Stepping into good habits often is the key distinction between profitable hunts and failing spectacularly. A few of these amenities are unlocked as you progress within the sport, so for those who don’t have entry but, you’ll have entry to them finally. If you happen to want an aide memoire, attempt to make a guidelines of the next questions.

Have I eaten but?

Do I’ve the fitting gear outfitted for the monster I’m searching?

Does my merchandise pouch solely have what I want?

Are my bounty slots all crammed?

Have I obtained all of the gadgets from the botanical analysis and Palico safari?

Have I upgraded my gear totally for the monster I’m searching?

If taking part in with others, have we agreed on whether or not to seize or kill the goal?

Quite a lot of it will take a couple of minutes to type out. Selecting what to eat earlier than heading out on a hunt is a bit more concerned if you wish to get essentially the most out of it, our Monster Hunter: World cooking menu has a full listing of components. There could also be cases the place you must hunt decrease quarry to be able to have the fitting upgrades for the monster you might be searching. Solely as soon as everybody is actually prepared must you head on the market.

At all times have a full set of Bounties

Within the guidelines, I discussed having bounties all crammed earlier than setting out on a hunt. That is so that you just’ll all the time be rewarded for no matter you do and never miss out on gadgets or Zenny that could possibly be used to improve sure gear. If there’s ever a clean slot in your six bounty slots, ensure you fill it. The bounty store is unlocked after defeating the Nice Jagras for the primary time, which is an early story quest. To entry it, you’ll want to talk to the Provisions Supervisor discovered close by the Provisions store.

Gotta catch ’em all

I am going into extra element in our Monster Hunter: World seize information, however typically talking there’s a slim likelihood of acquiring uncommon rewards for capturing a monster reasonably than killing it. There are nonetheless some apparent downsides, however studying the best way to seize a monster early on is advantageous. It additionally contributes extra to researching that monster for future hunts. There are nonetheless sure monsters, such because the Elder Dragons, which you could’t seize, so make certain that what you’re preventing will be captured within the first place earlier than making an attempt to take action.

Tips on how to make undesirable monsters go away

There can be instances, notably when preventing in opposition to increased ranked monsters, when one other monster is available in to smash the enjoyable. Generally it’ll battle your goal, whereas others it is going to help it in opposition to you. This isn’t a lot of an issue early on, with some assaults even weakening monsters or making them drop supplies. Nevertheless, when you’ve gotten a Bazelgeuse harassing different monsters that you just’re focusing on and catching you within the crossfire, perhaps flinging some dung isn’t such a foul thought. Dung, whether it is thrown in opposition to the interrupting monster, has an opportunity of creating it run away; in all probability because of the embarrassment of smelling so unhealthy. If you happen to’re going after targets the place that is doable, be sure that to have some dung out there.

That’s all the information we’ve to share for now, however preserve checking again as our protection continues with extra particular person monster guides nonetheless to return when the sport’s subsequent few updates drop. We’ll even be tackling Arch-tempered monsters and the variations they create when the time comes.

from SpicyNBAChili.com http://spicymoviechili.spicynbachili.com/monster-hunter-world-guide-monster-hunting-basics-combat-tips/

[marshmallow-the-vampire-slayer]

MTVS Epic Rewatch #160

BTVS 6x10 Wrecked

Stray Thoughts

1) To me, “Wrecked” is “Dead Man’s Party”/”Empty Places” levels of uncomfortable to watch. It’s worse than a train wreck because you’re not morbidly compelled to watch in spite of yourself. I had to will myself to watch this, that’s how dreadful it was for me. Even more so because I find it hard to buy the parallels the writers were so eager to draw between Willow’s and Buffy’s predicament. Yes, Buffy and Willow are far removed from the characters we grew to love in the early seasons. Willow is hooked on magic, smug and reckless. Buffy is depressed, detached and apathetic. The difference is, Willow has found herself on a path she chose for herself (the writers suddenly deciding to equate magic with drugs does not negate the fact that Willow came to magic of her own volition and that the show had not treated magic as a drug prior to this season...), while Buffy is trying to deal with the wreckage of a situation that was thrust upon her without her consent (by none other than Willow...) Moreover, Willow’s abuse of magic and recklessness have tangible repercussions on those around her. It’s not even that her friends might suffer collateral damage, she had been actively using magic to manipulate and abuse them. Buffy’s “drug”, on the other hand, is Spike. While her relationship with him was definitely unhealthy, she wasn’t hurting anyone other than probably herself and Spike (although that’s not the reason why by the end of the episode she chose to stay away from him - sparing his feelings wasn’t her priority, she was trying to protect her friends ¿?) I think there’s a big difference between “My friends won’t like/will disapprove of what I’m doing with my life [the person I’m banging]” and “I am emotionally and physically hurting my friends with what I’m doing with my life [abusing magic]”

So, while I can understand why Buffy is reluctant to continue her affair with Spike (and tbh even as a Spuffy shipper I wish she would’ve drawn the line here), her sleeping with Spike is hardly equivalent to Willow’s abuse of magic in terms of the consequences for those around them. 

Okay, long introduction over. I just had to get that off my chest before it had been nagging at me since I finished the episode. 

2) 

BUFFY: When... When did the building fall down? SPIKE: I don't know. Must have been sometime between the first time and the, uh...

3) 

SPIKE: I just don't see why you have to run off so quick. Thought we could...

BUFFY: Not gonna happen. Last night was the end of this freak show.

SPIKE: Don't say that.

BUFFY: What did you think was gonna happen? What, we're gonna read the newspaper together, play footsie under the rubble?

Buffy wasn’t really tactful, but she was making a good point. 

4) Of course, even if she didn’t picture babies and a house in the suburbs with Spike, she does enjoy fooling around with him. And I get it, girl. It doesn’t last too long, though, because Spike being Spike he had to be all gross and...

SPIKE: I knew. I knew the only thing better than killing a slayer would be f... BUFFY: What?!

That sets her off, and she quickly dismisses his theory that she’s a vampire groupie by setting Angel apart from him and calling Spike “convenient”. 

And while that’s true, I don’t think it was only about “convenience”. If she only needed to have sex with someone, she could’ve tried and find someone else. Someone she wasn’t supposedly disgusted by. Or a dildo, which is far less problematic and occasionally far more efficient, lbr. And while Spike was convenient in the sense that A) he was there, and B) he was following her around like a puppy and declaring his love at every turn, Buffy wouldn’t have slept with him if she hadn’t been attracted/turned-on by him, you know?

5) OMG, Tara reverts to stuttering when Willow shows up with Amy, that’s how much it hurt her to think that Willow was already dating someone else. 

And then Willow tries to set her straight by explaining it was Amy the Rat but instead of making things better, she makes everything a million times worse because that’s how Tara knows she hasn’t quit doing magic. And if there was something more hurtful than Willow dating someone, it was Willow doing magic in spite of the fact that was the reason Tara had left her. I think Tara definitely feels like Willow cared more about magic than she did about her, you know?

6) 

DAWN: You should rest. You're beat from monster-wrestling all night.

7) I know I’ve called Willow lazy before, but in all fairness, I would totally use magic to try and shut the curtains while I’m curled up in bed. Except Willow was all drained out of magic because of the previous night. See? That’s what happens when you go on a magic-binge: there’s none left for the important stuff like shutting the curtains without leaving the warm of your bed.

8) I believe this theory 100%

XANDER: Anya has a theory. She thinks that Martha Stewart froze that guy. ANYA: Don't be ridiculous. Martha Stewart isn't a demon. She's a witch. XANDER: Please, she... Really? ANYA: Of course. Nobody could do that much decoupage without calling on the powers of darkness.

9) See 1) above. Buffy tries to defend Willow because she’s seeing herself reflected in Xander’s and Anya’s comments, but the difference is, Willow’s actions were hurting others (as well as herself.)

BUFFY: She's just... helping Amy through a transition. XANDER: And making herself a playmate to do magic with. Someone who won't monitor her like Tara. BUFFY: No, Willow's a grown-up. You know, maybe she doesn't need to be monitored. You know, she's going through something, but we're not her. I mean ... m-maybe she has reasons for acting this way. And, so what if she crossed a line? You know, we all do stuff. Stupid stuff. But, then we learn. And, and we learn, and, and we don't do it again. Okay, so, you know, who are we to get all judgey?

XANDER: Not judgey, Buff. Just, observey. ANYA: Yeah, all we're saying is, she's acting different. You know, she's not herself.

10) Considering Amy had been a rat for over three years, that means she had been visiting Rack while she was a teenager... which is super creepy for all sorts of reasons but especially the one below...

11) If you read the whole Rack scenes in terms of the magic=drugs metaphor, Amy and Willow were basically prostituting themselves for drugs/magic...

RACK: Amy said. Amy said I could help you. But did Amy say how you could help me?

WILLOW: No, I-I have some money, a-a bit-

RACK: Not money.

WILLOW: Well, I could help you with your computer, I'm really handy-

RACK: Just relax, I'm not gonna hurt you. You gotta give a little to get a little, right?

AMY: It's okay. It's over fast.

RACK: That's right. I'm just gonna take a little tour.

Yikes, show. Y I K E S.

12) This scene is Trainspotting levels of creepy/scary...

13) This is so sad...

14) I love the running joke about how slaying makes you hungry... and horny...

DAWN: I'll leave a note for Buffy on the refrigerator. That's the first place she goes after patrolling. She's such a pig after she kills things.

15) This show is usually so good when it comes to writing metaphors into the narrative. I mean, the metaphors are not exactly subtle (like Angel losing his soul and ditching Buffy after having sex with her...) but they aren’t heavy-handed either. Except for the magic=drugs metaphor. I usually pride myself in saying that BTVS is a show that doesn’t underestimate its viewers’ intelligence, but let’s be real, the writers must’ve thought we were a bunch of dimwits if they thought they had to go this far to hammer the metaphor into us. I mean...

16) Oh, Dawnie! There’s nothing wrong with a meat party in your mouth, as long as you are of age and consent to it ;)

WILLOW: So, the burger was good? You liked it? DAWN: Are you kidding? It was like a meat party in my mouth. Okay, now I'm just a kid, and even *I* know that came out wrong.

17) Willow starts asking Dawn questions about Tara, like if she was sad or if she had mentioned Willow in their conversation. (which was kind of shitty in itself - I mean, you shouldn’t bring a 15-year-old girl into your relationship drama, you know? even if said girl has shown approval of your relationship and wants you to get back together with your ex...) And in my mind I was like: “Oh, okay, so this must be when she makes the decision to go to Rack’s, because talking about Tara triggered her and she needed the palliative.” Like, I could almost understand why she needed the magic/drugs. But then Dawn notices they have been walking down the wrong path for a while, which means that Willow was set on visiting Rack - and dragging Dawn along - before bringing Tara up. So, uncool all around. 

18) 

DAWN: Well, what about the movie? It starts at nine.

WILLOW: We'll make it. I, I'll just be a minute. And it doesn't matter if we miss the trailers.

DAWN: I like the trailers.

So do I, Dawn :(

19) OH MY GOD, SHOW, WE GET IT! MAGIC = DRUGS!! 

20) I’m both Buffy and Spike, tbh.

BUFFY: Last night... was the most perverse... degrading experience of my life. SPIKE: Yeah. Me too.

21) Even as Buffy continues to claim she’s disgusted by Spike and herself for agreeing to have sex with him, she’s really not as adamant as she used to be when actual feelings - his or her own - were brought up in their conversations. Like, when he tells her that she knows he loves her, she doesn’t refute this statement as she would’ve done before (”you’re in love with pain” “you don’t know what feelings are”.) Moreover, when Spike argues that their night together made her feel something, she quietly tells him: “Not love” instead of dismissing the idea of feeling something for him altogether. 

22) So, the super witch runs into ther magic-created monster, and she can’t do shit to fend him off? It’s the meek 15-year-old girl who has to do it.

And like 5 seconds after being scared shittless, she’s playing Mario Kart with the car she hijacked and laughing it off, not paying attention to the girl sitting next to her who is rightfully terrified and screaming in fear?

See? This is what I mean when I say Willow thought she was almighty. She honestly believed she could do no wrong. Even in a situation in which has clearly fucked up, she still believes she’s going to get her way. And yes, I get she was highor whatever, but this still was Willow only heightened.

23) ugh this scene is so difficult to watch, but damn did she have it coming...

(the screenshot makes it look kind of hilarious, though, but it’s so uncomfortable to watch)

24) But then Willow breaks down and it’s hard not to feel for her because we can tell she’s truly sorry. And this is why I love Buffy so damn much...

In spite of what Willow had put Dawn through and in spite of her own anger at her friend, Buffy still understands that Willow needs her, and so she casts her own feelings aside and finds it in her to comfort and help her. This is why she’s a hero - her never-ending forgiveness and selflessness.

25) Okay, this is why I believe Willow didn’t need a trigger (Tara’s death) to go dark...

WILLOW: I don't know. The magic, I... I thought I had it under control, and then... I didn't. (...) But I mean... if you could be... you know, plain old Willow or super Willow, who would you be? (...)

BUFFY: Will, there's nothing wrong with you. You don't need magic to be special.

WILLOW: Don't I? I mean, Buffy, who was I? Just... some girl. Tara didn't even know that girl.

Tell me if this doesn’t have “supervillain origin story” written all over it. 

26) “It’s over.”

Easier said than done, isn’t it?

[kiryienka]

RWBY Volume 4: Chapter 1 Review

NOTE: I am a big fan of RWBY, have been since its inception. Please view any of the ideas and views presented in this review as somewhat tongue-in-cheek as intended, but also note that any negative criticisms are not just ‘hating’ or anything like that. I want to see this show succeed just as much as the next guy.

RWBY, the brainchild of the late Monty Oum. A significant pioneer in the world of online media, RWBY has in a short lifespan become one of the largest shows online. Volumes 1 through 3 were huge successes, and so when Chapter 4 started late last year, people were understandably very much looking forward to it, myself included. Today we seem to have reached the end of the Volume with Chapter 12, and after taking everything in and processing it, it is with a heavy heart that I say:

RWBY Volume 4 was pretty bad.

Ok, so I don’t have to be told that this is an unpopular opinion to say the least. So far I have heard mostly good things about the season in general. The reason I’m making this review is not 'to convince you that it’s bad’, but more to expand on my thoughts as to why I think it’s bad, and what could have been done better to rectify it. I liked RWBY when it started out, and I’d like to see it continue for many more seasons to come, but not if it will follow what seems to be a pattern of self-degradation.

I now find myself re-watching the season so that I can give you the best and most understanding perspective I can. Let’s start off with Chapter 1: The Next Step.

The first shot of the episode is this weird pool of goo which turns out to be a Grimm birthing pit of sorts, the camera panning out to reveal a whole bunch of these things in the area. I really like this start, actually. First of all, it gives us some information on how Grimm are made/where they come from, and it also provides the groundwork for the animation department to show off the extent of the new and improved rendering techniques. In this shot, they look great, with dynamic lighting being the most notable improvement. Not just the Grimm, but the entire environment, seems to be lit and  rendered in a similar way, and it looks pretty good and, at the very least, brand-spankin’ new.

So that shot transitions smoothly into a looking-out-a-window shot with Mercury and Emerald, kinda just… looking. Emerald has this puzzling expression of what seems to be a mix between shock, disgust, grief and confusion. And Mercury just looks like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed that morning. They’re summoned to a table by Cinder (who, by the way, is not dead, so immediate red flag going off in my head), who is accompanied at the table by three other men, all of whom are immediately presumably lackeys of Salem: Guy with suit and mustache who immediately looks like an asshole, Guy with unkempt hair and squinting eyes, squatting on his chair rather than sitting and grinning creepily at nothing (he’s crazy I guess, fine, whatever), and sleeping beard guy, who actually doesn’t look too menacing and is the only one at the table that I give any thought into 'who is this guy and what are they like’.

Then we look at Cinder, who has a wicked scar coming from the left side of her face, which is covered by a patch of some sort and her hair. I immediately find myself asking, what happened at the end of the last Volume that didn’t actually kill Cinder, and seems at first appearance to have only superficially damaged her, but that drove her away/stopped her? I assumed she was dead, but lo and behold, she does not just survive, but lives to fight another day. I guess I like Cinder’s character in general so I’ll let it slide for now.

We are now 1:30 into a 20-minute video, so you can tell that each part of this review is gonna be a bit on the long side. Can’t wait for part 12 (the video having been a whopping 27 minutes, which is a whole other thing I want to complain about).

So, everyone I’ve mentioned so far is now around the table. Suit-mustache guy is the first to speak, telling Cinder to 'keep her “possy” in check’, with a snide and asshole-ish tone of course. There’s one for two on character assumptions. But also, what prompted him to even say that? It seems that this exchange is to show SM guy’s disdain with Cinder and 'possy’, and vice versa, but it is sorta just thrust in there without warning, or even reason. Then he goes on to mention the wonderful 'silence’, despite the fact that the room was completely silent before he opened his big dumb mouth. Then he of course pokes fun at the fact that Cinder was beaten by a 'little girl’, and crazy guy suggests what he would do; hunt her down and then… he makes allusion to the fact that she (being Ruby) 'took’ Cinder’s eye… so I guess Cinder lost an eye? Ok, that’s a bit more problematic, sure, but it still feels weird that such a specific injury derived from the indiscernible flash of light that ended the conflict in the last Volume. Also, this guy is crazy, so I’m 2 for 2 on character assumptions. If that wasn’t enough to convince you, he then laughs crazily just so the point gets across.

The theme I’m noticing at this point is this: present the information to the audience in the most obvious way possible, so we know nobody will misunderstand. I know it probably wasn’t the intention, but I feel like my intelligence and skills of reasoning are being insulted. It’s not giving me even a chance to make inferences about these characters and the situation, and is instead making everything as clear as possible from the very first scene. Oh, there are these three guys. Oh, one of them is an asshole to Cinder. Oh, Cinder is banged up. Oh, specifically, Cinder lost an eye. Oh, this guy is crazy. It feels like I’m getting slapped in the face with basic information that could have been inferred within a few minutes of screen time, not having even been given a chance to do so.

Cinder tries to talk, but is too hoarse or something. I guess her voice is gone too… for some… reason? If the narrative reason for the fact that Cinder is injured in a way that still allows her to get back into the thick of fighting after a little while, and if it’s as black and white as everything else in this scene, it’s that they didn’t want to put this character out of commission to fight. Spoiler alert, that mentality persists through the entire series, not just for this character. More on that a few episodes down the road.

Before SM guy can get more mockery in, the doors to the room open and in comes Salem, with her own theme music too! She walks around the room to the other side of the table, menacingly, and stares at some candles. “Watts”, she says, drawing the attention of SM guy – if I knew his name was so simple as his character, I would have taken a guess. Then she uses the word 'malignance’ to describe his behaviour. I had to look up this word to find that its definition is… the quality of being malign. Well screw you too, I’m just gonna assume it means something like f***ery and move on. After that (which was totally 100% necessary) Salem signals everyone to sit down (they stood when she entered the room, forgot to mention. Didn’t think it’d be worth mentioning. Watts responds to her by apologizing, followed by the conversational equivalent of a vague-post directed towards Cinder, which kinda negates any possible meaning behind the initial apology. Salem defends Cinder with the whole fall maiden thing, and this is the only thing so far that I can infer that hasn’t been thrown in my face: Salem, despite acting like it, doesn’t care any more about Cinder than anyone else at the table, and is using emotional manipulation to put Cinder under pressure to do… whatever it is she’s supposed to do.

Now, I have to ask, why is Cinder at this table? That is to say, why was Cinder taken into this group at all? If it’s to get the power of the fall maiden… why? Why couldn’t Salem do that? Now, obviously, Salem wouldn’t exactly be able to stealthily permeate the tournament like Cinder did, but surely there were other ways. I suppose you could go with the 'Salem is a Grimm’ theory, but I haven’t seen enough to buy into that yet.

So Salem lists off these great reasons why Watts shouldn’t be poking fun. About how she’s the fall maiden, brought down Beacon, and 'killed dear Ozpin’. So first of all, yeah, Ozpin is more important than he let on, great, dandy, like we couldn’t figure that out. But more importantly, this list was presented in a specific way. Salem put great emphasis on the killing Ozpin point. A clear narrative sign that Ozpin is, indeed, not going to be dead. Because I’m going to forget later, spoiler alert: He is dead, but they’re going to continue to BS his way in the series one way or another, and I hate the way they eventually did…

So Salem asks Watts the good question; what was Cinder’s 'failure’ that he keeps mentioning? The girl with the silver eyes. According to Watts anyway, which prompts beard to chime in (who I thought was asleep but I may not have cared enough to notice) about how they’ve dealt with these people already. But how is that a failure? Ruby was kind of an unforeseen circumstance in my estimation, and judging by the fact that Salem doesn’t mention it, it almost definitely wasn’t part of Cinder’s instructions. Though, if they know that silver eyes means trouble, then that means that Cinder really should have got Ruby out of the picture as soon as possible, so I guess you can consider that a failure.

Watts continues to grill Cinder for a bit and then Salem says something weird that made me pause: 'It’s because of the maiden’s power’. Um… That doesn’t explain how Cinder was bested… quite the opposite actually. Salem talks about a 'crippling weakness’ that comes with the newfound strength, but doesn’t bother mentioning what it is. It also begs the question, exactly how long ago was the fall of Beacon with this conversation only just taking place now? Cinder is told that she will stay there as her treatment continues. Then Salem calls up 'Doctor’ Watts all of a sudden. Doctor of what? Does it matter? Probably not, but it does still annoy me. So Watts is told to take Cinder’s place and meet some informant in Mistral. Take note of that, and keep it somewhere you can find, because when will we find out who this informant is? The very end of the very last episode.

Tierian (which is a really annoying name because they could have easily gone with a real name like Tiernan, but nooooo), who is apparently the crazy guy, is instructed to continue a hunt for the spring maiden. Hazel, who is beard, but I might still just call him beard anyway, is to go to the leader of the White Fang, an encounter arranged by Adam, who for whatever reason is still on these guys’ side.

Now Cinder wants to speak, so she raises a hand which apparently means 'Emerald, come over here so I can whisper in your ear’. The message, Cinder wants to know what about Ruby? Watts states that it’s 'Cinder’s problem, not ours’. But… you just said that that was her 'failure’. You stress this quite a lot for something which you now claim doesn’t matter. Even though it apparently doesn’t matter, Salem changes Tierian’s mission to go get Ruby and bring her there.

After Tierian laughs himself silly, we see a smash cut to… this… guy… who is this? Well, they look young I guess, probably around 15. Clothes indicate a rural life, probably literally on a farm. And no, it almost 100% is not the spring maiden. Stop perpetuating that nonsensical theory.

Anyway, farm-boy here wakes up from a nightmare, and because I’m an asshole I have to point out that he was sleeping in his bed in his regular day-clothes (with like a suspender and s**t). Anyway, he leaves his room and the next cut reveals that he is indeed on a farm. My clairvoyance frightens me. And do we learn anything else about this character? … No. No we don’t. It was a proper waste of a minute or so of my life.

And now we cut to a forest. In this forest we see Nora talking Ren’s ear off discussing what their new team name. Nora argues that because there are more members of JNPR than RWBY in their crew, they should go with JNRR, even though, according to Ren, 'junior isn’t a colour’, which I wasn’t aware was a prerequisite to be a team name (CFVY? CDNL? They are names of colours, but very unconventional names the layman wouldn’t know.). I guess colour is an important thing with names in this society. How do I know this? Well, Ozpin mentioned it in a speech in season 2, the only time it was ever mentioned. So when you throw it into this conversation, it doesn’t make sense to most viewers, and it took me a while to understand the logic as well. Ren’s proposition is that because the objective is Ruby’s, she should be the leader, making RNJR appropriate (but I don’t remember 'ranger’ being the name of a colour either). My suggestion for a name was TDFM, which stands for THIS DOESN’T F***ING MATTER. Jaune shared my sentiment, though, not as violently. But then backpedals and says that 'JNRR is way cooler’, because sure, let’s continue this comedic scene which is more infuriating than it is funny.

Cue rumble sound and ground shake, and Ruby is fighting some big rock monster. It looks pretty damn cool, if I’m honest. But more important than that is, how is the fight choreography? Simple answer: not great. Individual movements are not bad, but everyone has a much more ridiculous weightlessness, almost flying in their attacks for seconds and seconds. Not only are the characters weightless, but their weapons are as well. Nora swinging around her hammer looks like she’s playing with a styrofoam toy. It’s silly at best. Nora also says 'crap’ randomly in the battle (at a point when nothing is really happening so I don’t know why). I don’t have any problem with cursing, if you can call crap a curse word. They’ve just never done anything close to that in this series so far. So I can expect that that will hold up, right? This is a more mature show now with more mature themes, right? Nope. Only instance of a word like that that I can remember, there may have been one or two more at most. Next point, Ruby uses her semblance… excessively, to put it lightly, in this battle. Now that would be fine, if we didn’t already know that that uses up her aura, and we’ve already seen that she isn’t able to use it too much without getting tired. Then, Jaune comments on the fact that he doesn’t have a weapon. So what happened to his weapon? Eh, let’s not address it now when it’s actually important.

So this big ol’ rock-Grimm poses a demonstrable threat, and they have a lot of trouble with it. Eventually they find that the way to defeat it is to attack its face. When Jaune comes to this realisation, he formulates the plan to knock all of its limbs off at once and then attack the face so that it can’t protect itself. How does he present this plan to the others? “Guys, I got it! We hit it… harder!” Are. You. F***ing. Serious. Let’s just move on from this scene, because the list of things I could complain about in it is growing faster than the f***ing rate of acceleration of the universe. Though, I will just add, everyone was then told the plan to knock off all its limbs and then attack the face, and the Grimm was defeated by… not doing that. God, I need a drink.

So apparently they were just doing an extermination job for some old dude in a village, which I suppose prevents me from asking why it’s necessary to fight this thing, but inadvertently makes me ask why they’re wasting their time doing odd-jobs. Then they go to a blacksmith, where Jaune’s weapon apparently was, along with a shiny new set of armour. He takes off his old armour, which reveals on the front of his hoodie, a cute design of a bunny. Now first of all, I’d wear the s**t out of that hoodie, but second, at this point we begin what may be the most irritating exchange I have ever watched in any show, movie or short.

Ruby starts to make fun of Jaune’s hoodie, which is fine, it’s a little unexpected of him I guess. But then she starts laughing and screams about how 'it’s got a cute little bunny rabbit’, as if that wasn’t obvious to anyone in the world. Jaune details that it’s 'Pumpkin Pete’, from some brand of cereal, as Ruby continues to laugh. She jokingly asks if it was a box top prize, to which Jaune responds that it was, needing a whole 50 of them. And she continues to laugh and laugh and laugh, and where it gets seriously obnoxious is at this point where the animation department decided to make her whole head grow and do this weird movement towards the camera. It’s extremely jarring and highlights a few things. Firstly, her facial expression is not one of somebody dying of laughter. If you cover her mouth, it looks like she’s in pain, and if you cover her eyes, it looks like she’s talking normally. Mashed together, it looks like Lt. Cm. Data trying to heartily laugh – it conveys the fact that Ruby is laughing, but it looks so mechanical, artificial and bland that it takes you out of that mindset, and the entire scene, completely. Also, the movement of the mouth and face is ridiculously minimal. It doesn’t look like she’s laughing at all. It almost looks like whoever animated it did so without hearing what the laugh would sound like, and the voice actress did the laugh without seeing what the animation would look like. Lastly, it is the first point that you will notice – and this will continue for the entire season – that shots last way too long. The zoomed-in Ruby laughing portion of this exchange, with minimal movement and no change in anything else, lasts an agonizing 8 seconds, which is extremely long for what isn’t even a gag, but a character’s reaction to said gag.

I also hate how Nora and Ren just stand there, just f***ing stand there, while this goes on. I imagine they’re not laughing because they knew about this sweater already, but then you’re not even gonna defend Jaune or something? Not gonna contribute to the conversation and make more fun of him? Not even gonna tell Ruby to shut up? They just stand there with dopey half-smiles on their faces as if part of them doesn��t really know what’s going on, another part is wondering why they’re wasting time here when they’re trying to go to Mistral, and the rest of them is just like 'why are we being dragged through another season of this hell’.

So then the blacksmith brings out the new sword and shield, commenting on the nice metal Jaune brought him and that it 'accents the white nicely’. When asked from where it was procured, Jaune states that it’s 'from a friend’. Now, because this exchange is extremely vague, and this point is never addressed again, I’ll spell it out for you. Jaune melted down the metal from Pyrrha’s shield and possibly her weird crown-thingy. It’s hinted by the similar shape to that crown towards the bottom of the shield’s design. So… did Pyrrha not have any family that would have liked to have the last remains of their daughter? Did they just say 'nah, let her former boyfriend of 5 seconds keep it, I’m sure it means a lot more to him than to us’?

So when they leave the smith, in one shot Jaune puts the sword in the sheath and it attaches to the back of his arm somehow. It just floats there, so I think 'oh, I guess that’s where it goes now, fine, whatever’. Then, in the shot after next in the very same scene, it’s on his waist. What. I don’t. Kill me.

So they continue on to the next village, where they hope to find an operational 'airship’ to quicken the journey to Haven Academy. They also allude to the fact that Nora seems to have lost their map as they walk aimlessly in a direction, but the camera pans away anyway because who needs maps am I right? That’s not important.

The transition into the next scene is a little jarring but somewhat smooth at the same time. The camera slowly moves into the sky and fades from clear blue to another sky with a few clouds, and then suddenly, jets. Turn down your headphone volume or it will be a little uncomfortable. We see Weiss in some room, staring dramatically out a window before someone enters the room. Judging by the white blandness pervading every object in this room, it’s pretty easy to guess that this is her home, quickly confirmed by the new entrant, a butler, summoning 'Miss Schnee’ to her father. And it is with Weiss’ character model that I first though, 'something isn’t right’. At this point in, I wasn’t sure what, just that the characters definitely looked weird to me for some reason. I’ll bring it up again when I realised what the problem was, which will be a few episodes on. And the episode ends there, just suddenly. I ask, what was the point of showing Weiss in this episode pointlessly for less than a minute? Especially when you consider the fact that we weren’t shown Yang or Blake. The world may never know.

So finally we reach the new opening for this season and it’s… horrendous. There’s no being kind to this, it’s simply awful. Immediately, the song 'Let’s Just Live’ is sub-par to the Williams’ standards, and it also has a confusingly upbeat nature despite this season coming off the back of such a dark end to the last, and not being expected to get much brighter. The first shot in this opening is a s**ttily animated sphere of some sort with portions coloured red, white, black and yellow. The reason why I complain about it is twofold. The colours within the sphere are not divided equally, and instead look like an Egyptian flag with an unexplained discolouration on the right side. And despite the fact that the sphere is not coloured in quartered segments, the halo around it is, which makes it look all the worse. So then there are Grimm clawing at the thing and one eats it, any potential meaning behind which is far too vague to parse at any point in the season. Then you have four coloured circles of the same colours spinning around aimlessly and then they break out of what looks to be Beacon Tower and go off their separate ways around a map. This is obviously to represent the four members of team RWBY off having their own journeys and development, but it could have been conveyed in a way that didn’t look quite so lazy.

We cut to Ruby walking along when wind blows off her hood (which was up for whatever reason) and the remainder of JNPR is behind her. The camera zooms in towards them with… speed lines. Why this was thought to be necessary by the animation department is a question that I may never find the answer to, because it really is there not just for no reason, but for a completely nonsensical purpose. There was nothing fast about the camera’s or anything else’s movement, nor was there anything exciting in nature about the shot. Then they walk off and we see a crow fly towards the camera, and this is the point where you ask yourself why we haven’t seen Qrow, who we can assume with reasonable certainty is following RNJR/JNRR. The crow transitions into a standing shot of, you guessed it, Qrow, as if literally to dispel that thought you just had not half a second ago.

Then we cut to Weiss reading a book, and she turns around to see her butler (I know his name is Clyne, but I don’t know if that’s how it’s spelled or if it’s Klein or Klyne or Clein or Clayne or any number of spellings so I just didn’t bother writing it up to this point) and somebody standing behind him. Judging by the short stature, white hair and neat and tidy suit, I am going to assume it’s Weiss’ younger brother, and chances are he’s going to be an asshole (no points for guessing whether that assumption will be correct). Then it cuts to this dude in a study who we can assume to be Weiss’ father, who is probably also an asshole. I say assume, because, correct me if I’m wrong, I don’t remember ever seeing this guy’s face at any point in the last three seasons. Ironwood is there too I guess. Then it zooms into Mr Schnee’s eye to transition to Weiss seemingly having a mental breakdown. You can ascertain from this that Weiss’ father is emotionally/psychologically abusive or manipulative. I see that as heavy-handed, but for that one I’ll concede that maybe that’s just me.

Smash-cut (literally) to Blake standing on the long-pointy bit on the end of a ship (I could look it up, but giving people something to complain about other than this review seems like a good idea). Sun suddenly jumps from behind her and hugs her quite violently. Let’s ignore for a moment the fact that such a motion would have pushed the both of them clear off the front of the ship. If you look at the frames just between 18:46 and 18:47, the strange expression on Blake’s face coupled with the robotic stiffness of her body should at least give you a chuckle. I would criticise it more were it not for the fact that this is the 4536th word in this document and I would like to finish this as soon as possible. This other huge guy with a big beard and really weird chest hair (which I will address once this character is actually introduced) puts his hands on their shoulders. Now, one can’t really derive just from this who or what this character is, and at this moment I assumed he was someone on the ship or something (which was wrong, shocking, I know). And then he violently pushes Sun away, and another character jumps into his place. It’s a shorter but older-looking woman than Blake, and most importantly she is a cat Faunus as well, which immediately leads to the realisation that she is Blake’s mother, and the man is therefore her father.

Then we take a look at Yang, who seems to be training with her father Taiyang, no arm and all. Her hair looks bizarre in how large it is and how much it juts out, but that’s really the least of my qualms at this point. The camera is spinning around the pair, and when it’s behind Yang, Taiyang is replaced with a replica of Yang, +1 arm. And then she falls backwards into a weird fiery image of Adam. At this point you think 'fine, makes sense, it’s PTSD or whatever’ before two random people jump in front of the scene for seemingly no reason. One is visibly a Faunus, and they both are wearing strange robes with a red hood vaguely in the shape of a snake head. We learn who these people are a few episodes later, but any possible connection to Adam or Yang is actually never explained, so the way this is cut together is especially strange.

Then we see Hazel, Cinder, Tierian, Watts and Salem in succession, standing at different strata of a rock structure and posing menacingly. It goes from there to a scene with Ruby fighting Tierian, with oddly slow and sweeping movements from both parties. What’s worse, in this exchange none of Ruby’s attacks are at all in a position or direction to threaten Tierian, and he isn’t even attacking at all, just sort of break dancing. Then we go to Adam attacking Blake. I can’t even notice the choreography of this exchange because it’s all put on the back burner by the goofy expression of 'fear’ on Blake’s face for a whole half a second of panning in. It transitions then to Weiss. If patterns are to be followed, she’d be fighting one of the bad guys, probably Hazel or Watts, right? Nope. She’s just… practicing, I guess? In her room, nobody there. Then we go back to RNJR/JNRR fighting random Grimm with more slow and awkward movements before they stand there and pose. One last crow wipe shows the members of team RWBY standing around and looking away from the camera as it tracks up to the title. A title that also appeared near the start of the opening, would you believe.

Well, there you have it, that was my review of RWBY Volume 4 Chapter 1. Again, this is written to be tongue-in-cheek but also because I want to see the series get better, not worse. These are truly my opinions, just exaggerated for entertainment value (because who wants to read about 5000 words which are boring?). I don’t have a timeline for the next part of this review, but if people want more then I will try to do it within the next two weeks or so if possible. Until then, thanks for reading.

[beyondforks]

Playing Catch Up! Someday, Someday, Maybe by Lauren Graham

Playing Catch Up has really been helping me through my ever growing TBR list. I'd like to welcome all other blogs to participate too! If you do, be sure to post your links in the comments section. I'd love to see your Playing Catch Up Reviews, and I'm sure others would too!! *wink*

Want to know more about Playing Catch Up? I'll tell you all about it here!

Someday, Someday, Maybe by Lauren Graham Genre: Adult Fiction (Contemporary Romance) Date Published: April 30, 2013 Publisher: Ballantine Books

A charming and laugh-out-loud novel by Lauren Graham, beloved star of Parenthood and Gilmore Girls, about an aspiring actress trying to make it in mid-nineties New York City.

Franny Banks is a struggling actress in New York City, with just six months left of the three-year deadline she gave herself to succeed. But so far, all she has to show for her efforts is a single line in an ad for ugly Christmas sweaters and a degrading waitressing job. She lives in Brooklyn with two roommates - Jane, her best friend from college, and Dan, a sci-fi writer, who is very definitely not boyfriend material - and is struggling with her feelings for a suspiciously charming guy in her acting class, all while trying to find a hair-product cocktail that actually works. 

Meanwhile, she dreams of doing "important" work, but only ever seems to get auditions for dishwashing liquid and peanut butter commercials. It's hard to tell if she'll run out of time or money first, but either way, failure would mean facing the fact that she has absolutely no skills to make it in the real world. Her father wants her to come home and teach, her agent won't call her back, and her classmate Penelope, who seems supportive, might just turn out to be her toughest competition yet. 

Someday, Someday, Maybe is a funny and charming debut about finding yourself, finding love, and, most difficult of all, finding an acting job. 

Someday, Someday, Maybe by Lauren Graham is a book I've been wanting to read since it came out, and look! I finally read it! I'm a big fan of the Gilmore Girls, and I love Lauren Graham's humor. Maybe I still have Gilmore Girls heavy on the brain, but this book almost felt like I was reading what would have happened to Lorelai had she never gotten pregnant with Rory and instead moved to New York with dreams of being an actress. Franny's character was full of the fun and quirkiness that I love about Lorelai. Her whit along with her humorous ramblings when she's embarrassed or just feeling awkward will keep you giggling. I keep saying "read". I actually listened to the audio version of this book. It's read by Lauren Graham herself, and I highly recommend it, as only she could properly tell her story with all the right inflections. It adds all the more to the humor and feel of the story. This was such an enjoyable book. I hated to see it end. Speaking of which, what's up with that ending? I need to know more! What happens next? I know what I'm hoping happens, but I like to have something concrete. On the other hand, it is kind of fitting. Still, I'm going to keep my fingers crossed for a sequel.

Chapter 1 “Begin whenever you’re ready,” comes the voice from the back of the house. Oh, I’m ready. After all, I’ve prepared for this day for years: The Day of the Most Important Audition of a Lifetime Day. Now that it’s finally here, I’m going to make a good impression, I’m sure of it. I might even book the job. The thought makes me smile, and I take a deep breath, head high, body alert, but relaxed. I’m ready, alright. I’m ready to speak my first line. After all, I’ve prepared for this day for years: The Day of the Most Important Audition of a Lifetime Day. Now that it’s finally here, I’m going to make a good impression, I’m sure of it. I might even book the job. The thought makes me smile, and I take a deep breath, head high, body alert, but relaxed. I’m ready, alright. I’m ready to speak my first line. “Eeessssaaheeehaaa.” The sound that comes out of me is thin and high, a shrill wheezing whine, like a slowly draining balloon or a drowning cat with asthma. Shake it off. Don’t get rattled. Try again. I clear my throat. “Haaaaaawwrrrblerp.” Now my tone is low and gravelly, the coarse horn of a barge coming into shore, with a weird burping sound at the end. “Hawrblerp?” That can’t be my line. I don’t think it’s even a word. Oh, God, I hope they don’t think I actually burped. It was really more of a gargle, I tell myself—although I don’t know which is worse. I can just picture the scene, post-audition: That actress? We brought her in and she positively belched all over the dialogue. Is she any good? Well, I suppose you could use her, if the part calls for lots of gargling. Sounds of cruel laughter, phones slamming into receivers, 8 × 10 glossies being folded into paper airplanes and aimed into waste paper baskets. Career over, the end. “Franny?” I can’t see who’s speaking because the spotlight is so bright, but they’re getting impatient, I can tell. My heart is pounding and my palms are starting to sweat. I’ve got to find my voice, or they’ll ask me to leave. Or worse—they’ll drag me off stage with one of those giant hooks you see in old movies. In Elizabethan times the audience would throw rotten eggs at the actors if they didn’t like a performance. They don’t still do that, do they? This is Broadway, or at least, I think it is. They wouldn’t just throw— The tomato bounces off my leg and onto the bare wood floor of the stage. Splat. “Franny? Franny?” I open my eyes halfway. I can see from the window above my bed that it’s another gray and drizzly January day. I can see that because I took the curtains down right after Christmas in order to achieve one of my New ­Year’s resolutions, of becoming an earlier riser. Successful actresses are disciplined people who wake up early to focus on their craft, I told ­myself—­even ones who still make their living as ­waitresses—­like me. I started leaving the alarm clock on the landing between ­Jane’s room and mine so I’d have to actually get out of bed in order to turn it off, instead of hitting snooze over and over like I normally do. I also resolved to quit smoking again, to stop losing purses, wallets, and umbrellas, and to not eat any more cheese puffs, not even on special occasions. But I already had two cigarettes yesterday, and although the sun is obscured by the cloudy sky, I’m fairly certain it is far from my new ­self-­appointed rising time of eight a.m. My ­three-­day abstinence from cheese puffs and the umbrella still downstairs by the front door are my only accomplishments of the year so far. “Franny?” Only ­half-­awake, I roll over and squint down at the pitted wood floor by my bed, where I notice one black leather Reebok ­high-­top lying on its side. ­That’s strange. It’s ­mine—­one of my waitressing ­shoes—­but I thought I’d left them outside ­the—­thwack!—­a second Reebok whizzes by, hitting the dust ruffle and disappearing underneath. “Franny? Sorry, you didn’t respond to my knocking?” Dan’s voice is muffled and anxious from behind my bedroom door. “I ­didn’t hit you with the shoe, did I?” Ahhh, it was my shoe that hit me on the leg, not a tomato. What a relief. “I dreamed it was a tomato!” I yell at the half-open door. “You want me to come back later?” Dan calls back anxiously. “Come in!” I should probably get out of bed and put Dan out of his misery, but it’s so cold. I just want one more minute in bed. “What? Sorry, Franny, I can’t quite hear you. You asked me to make sure you were up, remember?” I suppose I did, but I’m still too groggy to focus on the details. Normally I would’ve asked our other roommate, my best friend, Jane, but she’s been working nights as a P.A. on that new Russell Blakely movie. Since Dan moved into the bedroom downstairs a few months ago, I haven’t noticed much about him except how unnecessarily tall he is, how many hours he spends writing at the computer, and the intense fear he seems to have about coming upon either of us when we’re not decent. “Dan! Come in! “You’re decent?” In fact, I went to sleep in an outfit that far exceeds decent, even by Dan’s prudish standards: heavy sweatpants and a down vest I grabbed last night after the radiator in my room sputtered and spat hot water on the floor, then completely died with a pathetic hiss. But that’s what you get in Park Slope Brooklyn for $500 a month each. Jane and I had shared the top two floors of this crumbling brownstone with Bridget, our friend from college, until the day Bridget climbed on top of her desk at the investment banking firm where she worked and announced that she no longer cared about becoming a millionaire by the time she turned thirty. “Everyone here is dead inside!” she screamed. Then she fainted and they called an ambulance, and her mother flew in from Missoula to take her home. “New York City,” Bridget’s mother clucked as she packed up the last of her daughter’s things. “It’s no place for young girls.” Jane’s brother was friends with Dan at Princeton, and assured us that Dan was harmless: quiet and responsible and engaged to be married to his college girlfriend, Everett. “He was pre-med, but now he’s trying to be some sort of screenwriter,” Jane’s brother told us. And then, the ultimate roommate recommendation: “He comes from money.” Neither Jane nor I had ever had a male roommate. “I think it would be very modern of us,” I told her. “Modern?” she said, rolling her eyes. “Come one, it’s 1995. It’s retro of us. We’d be Three’s Company all over again. “But with two Janets,” I pointed out. Jane and I are different in many ways, but we worked hard in school together, we’re both brunettes, and we’ve both read The House of Mirth more than once, just for fun. “How true,” she sighed. “Franny?” Dan calls out, his voice still muffled. “You didn’t go back to sleep did you? You told me you’d try if I let you. I promised I’d make sure— I take a deep breath and I bellow, in my most diaphragmatically supported Shakespearean tone: “Daaaaaaan. Come iiiiiinnnnnnn.” Miraculously, the left side of Dan’s face appears through a crack in the door, but it’s not until he’s confirmed my fully covered status and stepped all the way into the room, leaning his oversized frame awkwardly against the corner bookshelf, that I suddenly remember: My hair. I have no romantic feelings ­toward Dan, but I do have very strong feelings about my unruly, impossibly curly hair, which I piled into a green velvet scrunchie on top of my head last night while it was still wet from the shower, a technique that experience tells me has probably transformed it from regular hair into more of a scary, frizzy ­hair-­tower while I slept. In an attempt to assess just how bad it is, I pretend to yawn while simultaneously stretching one hand over my head, in the hopes of appearing nonchalant while also adjusting the matted pile of damage. For some reason this combination of moves causes me to choke on absolutely nothing. “Is it . . . (cough, cough) . . . is it ­really late?” I sputter. “Well, I went to the deli, so I don’t know exactly how long your alarm’s been going off,” Dan says. “But Frank’s been up for at least two hours already.” Shit. I am late. Frank is the neighbor whose apartment we can see into from the windows in the back of our brownstone. Frank leads a mysterious, solitary life, but one you can set a clock by. He rises at eight, sits in front of a computer from nine to one, goes out and gets a sandwich, is back at the computer from two until six thirty, is gone from six thirty to eight, and then watches TV from eight until eleven p.m., after which he goes promptly to sleep. The schedule never changes. No one ever comes over. We worry about Frank in the way New Yorkers worry about strangers whose apartments they can see into. Which is to say, we made up a name for him and have theories about his life, and we’d call 911 if we saw something frightening happen while spying on him, but if I ran into him on the subway, I’d look the other way.

An American actress, producer, and debut novelist best known for playing Lorelai Gilmore on Gilmore Girls and Sarah Braverman on Parenthood. Graham's debut novel, Someday, Someday, Maybe is a work based on a fictionalization of her experiences in the New York acting scene in the mid-1990s.In May 2013, the book entered the New York Times best seller list. Graham signed a deal with Warner Bros. Television and Ellen DeGeneres' production company A Very Good Production to adapt it into a TV series. The script will be written by her. To learn more about Lauren Graham and her books, visit her on Goodreads and Twitter.