#and even though I allude to it and talk about it in the safety of the tags

[canisalbus]

I say this in the best way, but your characters feel like they're from an obscure but really good piece of media, and you feel like the artist who always draws the two main characters as ghay lovers

.

[gojolatte]

❥ Beg For It, Petal.

» RATING › 18+ [M I N O R S D O N O T I N T E R A C T] » GENRE(S) › smut/fluff » PAIRING(S) › geto suguru x female!reader x gojo satoru » WORD(S) › 2.8k+ » SYNOPSIS › You simply want to make breakfast for your boyfriend's but they have something else in mind. » SMUT WARNING(S) › oral (female receiving), fingering, squirting, gojo & geto kissing, a smidge of dirty talking, allude to sub!geto, allude to anal, praise kink, begging, nicknames (petal, peach, love, pretty girl, honey, & gorgeous), loads of cuddling between the three of you, vacation vibes only! (half-ass edited so beware lol) » POST DATE › 03/21/2024

thank you for reading! & remember: you nice, keep going.❤️ comment/reblogs(s) and like(s) are totally welcomed! › read more work here: masterlist ‹

It’s merely morning when the sun begins to rise, casting a surreal glow into the room. Your body and mind decide to stir as you wake from your slumber. The black curtains hardly catch the glare that hits your face when you try to turn over. It’s then that you realize you’re laid snug on top of Satoru. You can feel his even breath against your neck as he smushes his face against your chest. His grip on your waist is tight and it stops you from being able to turn like you want to.

“Stop.” Satoru groans when you shift your body, leaving Suguru to grab you from his arms (or more importantly, before you can get up to leave). His hold is much firmer than Satoru’, his face is buried in your neck and you can feel him press soft kisses against it.

“Pretty girl,” Suguru chuckles the moment you moan. “Where are you trying to go, honey?” His eyes remain closed, his voice is soft but raspy and for a second, you melt into his embrace as he smothers you closer to his chest. One of the things you love to do is simply listen to this beautiful man talk. His voice is so calming and reassuring that you often fall into this state of bliss. You appreciate the feelings both he and Satoru give you while you're tucked into their arms. A sense of safety and security that everything will be alright. You close your eyes and savor the moment, knowing this feels like home.

“You’re staring, baby.” He wolfishly grins, bringing his hand up to caress your bottom lip. “It’s still early… It's only eight and you’re already trying to leave us.” Glancing over at the clock on the dresser, you realize he's right. It's eight forty-three and honestly, you can use a little more sleep. “Sleep.”

“I want to get up though,” You whine as he only chuckles about how cute you are. You want to get up, take a shower, maybe even get breakfast started for them but you can't do that since Suguru won't let you go. “And It’s not that early, ‘Gu. I could be cooking breakfast right now. I’m hungry.” As if on cue your stomach growls, alerting him of the basic need that hasn't been met. “Suguru…”

“But I’d rather you stay here.” He peeks through his left eye to get a good look at you. The ray of sunlight shining through the balcony door just right to radiate not only the room but you too. An angel in disguise. He can't help but reach up to brush his thumb against the side of your cheek as you lean into his warmth. You can't lie, you love being sandwiched between both of them and right now is no different. “That’s why we hired people for this so you wouldn’t have to move a muscle, honey.”

“But I wanna do it…” You frown, “I-It’s not t-the same-”

“Oh, but It is.” You don't see the smirk present on his face the moment he feels you bury your face in the crook of his neck to attempt to hide. “It's okay to relax. It's your vacation as much as it's ours, Petal. Just sleep.” He says, settling back with you in tow and you lose your breath. You can’t believe how beautiful this man is. He laughs, leaning back to rest his head against the pillows again. You snuggle into his chest, tracing circles on his collarbone.

As time goes on, Suguru’s out like a light again, and you decide to maneuver yourself back between them to get comfortable. Both men snore, one louder than the other. You feel Satoru cuddle up into your back as his hand finds your stomach. He rubs against it as both play tug-a-war with your body to see who gets more to cuddle with. 

The warmth feels good. And the butterflies in your stomach make you feel alive as you’re laid up and fiddling with Satoru’s fingers. 

It's times like this you cherish. The moments where Suguru isn’t in one of his moods and Satoru isn’t off doing god knows what. And neither of them has to leave for days on end. It makes you wish you could stay like this forever and keep them chained to the bed but sadly, you can’t. At least not in the way you want to. Suguru might like it. Satoru? Not so much. Then again, who truly knows? As much sex as you and Satoru have, you haven’t tried that yet. 

Which is surprising in itself and well, you make a mental note to visit a sex shop down the street from your apartment complex one of these days. 

Glancing at the clock again, it's nine-ten and you can't justify laying in bed much longer than you have. You want to see the scenery and all that so you decide it's time to get up and shower. You can even feel the grime of last night's activities start to feel crusty and gross and you can't take it anymore. You run a couple of scenarios through your mind or rather, solutions so you can get up and move freely without waking your boys.

Solution one. Try with all your might to wiggle your way out of their grasp. In which, you do but that plan ends in utter failure when Suguru groans for you not to move again. He turns over to throw his arm over your waist to keep you still. And with Satoru's hand awkwardly sprawled on your ass, they've got you locked in place again. 

Failure.

Solution two. Try to put a pillow in your place but, of course, that was also a failure because they can tell the difference. Hell, they won't even allow you to get up long enough to do the switch.

You're exasperated as you roll over to stare at the ceiling, groaning to no one but yourself. You glance to either side of you. They look adorable with Suguru’s face buried in your chest now and Satoru’s face mushed against the pillows, it makes his lips pucker. You just want to kiss both of them but right now is not the time.

Solution three. Try ripping yourself from their grasp. You try for about five minutes until you realize that's futile.

“Really?” It only serves to annoy you when you hear Satoru chuckle, no doubt listening to you struggle. And if he’s awake then you know Suguru is too even if he doesn’t utter a word. You just want to get up! Your stomach has been growling for a hot minute and you're hungry and gross and ugh!

“Just stay with us, Petal.” How can you say no to that? You don't know but you fix your mouth and tell them to get up when Satoru leans in close. His lips barely touch the skin of your neck and you can feel his gust of breath on your neck that sends a shiver down your spine.

“I was going to make us breakfast though…” You gasp the moment he nibbles against your ear, his warm hand resting against your thigh. So close to where you would like it to be but not right now. You try your best to sit up again but it’s no use. With them holding you the way that they are, you’re shit out of luck. “Well, can I at least take a shower?”

“Mm-mmh,” Suguru mumbles while kissing your shoulder. “Later...”

You roll your eyes at your boyfriend as a sigh falls from your lips. For both of them to be grown men, they’re acting like straight children right now but giving up is the last thing you want to do. Hunger overtakes everything. So you wait, somewhat impatiently for what seems like hours. You knew they were going to fall asleep again soon. 

It was just a matter of time. 

You end up wasting time on your phone, playing some mobile game Satoru told you to download until you hear both men snoring a little louder than before. 

With a shift of their bodies, you're finally able to slip out of their arms to get to the bathroom. You made it your mission to take a quick shower, trying to figure out what you want for breakfast. You don't want to linger in case they wake from their slumber again and try to tug you back into bed. Or you know, in case they decided to hop in the shower with you because breakfast will never be made then.

“Aww,” You coo, seeing them closer with Satoru’s face buried in Suguru’s neck while his leg is hiked onto his front. The blanket covers nothing but their lower half. his arm loosely draped over his tiny waist. Suguru’s waist was a gift from the heavens, you loved it. Especially whenever he’d wrap your legs around it.

You quickly shake those thoughts before they even enter your mind, instead, you snap a picture to tease them later. 

Waltzing over to the drawer, you pull out one of their band shirts, a random one they let you have (since they had so many), and settle for some black panties. Being comfortable was the main thing. 

Stepping out, you close the door quietly and start toward the kitchen. Searching through the fridge to find something to make something simple came to mind, a little bit of both of their favorites.

You're so into what you are cooking, that you don’t hear the door to the suite bedroom open. You also don’t hear either man making their way to the kitchen. 

“Baby?” Satoru whines, wrapping his arms around your waist. You’re startled, mind drawing blanks as you almost drop the hot skillet.

“J-Jesus,” You giggle, turning to face him to push him away, “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Satoru smiles. He peppers kisses down your neck as his hands caress your inner thighs and you can feel the start of his bulge poking into your ass. Suguru stands from the island and pulls you to stand in front of him while Satoru sandwiches you from behind.

“I’m trying to cook,” You whine, feeling Satoru’s hand dip into boy shorts as he rubs his finger over your slit. You throw your head back with a soft moan. Suguru steps away long enough to turn off the stove so the food doesn’t burn, but he steps forward to pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist to sit you on the counter. Neither one says a word, Satoru attacking your neck to hear you groan as Suguru kisses your lips, your body melting into their touches, “I just wanna finish cooking...”

“Maybe we just want you for breakfast,” Satoru growls, nipping at your earlobe before yanking your underwear down and off your body.

“You can finish after we’re done,“ Suguru teases, “You’re already so wet for us, Petal.”

“Fuck yeah, she is,” Satoru smirks, tilting his head so he could get a good look at you. You’re blushing softly, the tint of red turning you into a tomato. “Was it from me touching you or is it the thought of what we’re going to do to you.”

“What’s turning you on, baby?”

“‘Toru…” You don’t want to say it out loud, resulting in you simply nodding your head. Of course, they’re not falling for it. Suguru grips your chin a little harshly but you can’t help but nibble on your bottom lip. Your cunt clenching around absolutely nothing at the blatant show of dominance. Satoru knows that look on your face, you’re slowly falling into that headspace of yours but Satoru doesn’t want you to completely lose yourself. 

At least, not yet.

“Words baby,” Suguru mutters, kissing the corner of your mouth once you take a deep breath to try and ground yourself. 

‘We need to hear you, Peach.”

“Yeah! Yes! Please…” You’re breathless as you throw your arms around Suguru who gets a grip on your thighs to be able to pick up and move you to the kitchen island. You’re going to need more room for the orgasm he’s about to give you. Your hips buck the moment he starts to slowly ease his middle finger inside you. 

“So tight.” Suguru places kisses on your trembling thighs, and all the while, Satoru hops onto the island to settle behind you. He’s glad he sent the chef and maid away for a couple more hours. Let’s be real though, they would have gladly given them a show too. He didn’t care but he knows you do.

“You’re so wet, Peach.”

“She’s sucking my fingers right in.”

Satoru chuckles, bringing his finger to press into your clit before rubbing it while Suguru's fingers continued to pump in and out of your cunt. The sounds cause both men to grow hornier as they watch your orgasm build, you're falling back against Satoru’s chest as he moves to the area above your clit. Suguru takes the opportunity to roll his tongue over your clit before flicking it a couple of times.

“That’s it, love.” Satoru kisses his way down your neck as your mouth falls open and your breathing continues to pick up. You’re right there if the way you try to squeeze your thighs around his hand and Suguru’s head says anything. It’s so hot. Fuck, you’re fucking gorgeous. “Let Sugu take care of you. Feels good doesn’t it?”

You moan in response, reaching for Satoru to bring him closer for a heated kiss. Your eyes close as he wastes no time, his tongue dancing with yours for dominance but ultimately winning.

“Taste sweet.” You throw your head back once more when Satoru starts to play with your bottom lip, gently running his thumb over it. You take it into your mouth, rolling it around your tongue and sucking on it lightly. You can feel how hard he is in your back, wanting to take care of them like they were taking care of you. You let go of his thumb with a soft pop as Suguru leans up to face both of you and quickly runs his palm back and forth over your clit.

“Please- ‘m- Fuck!”

“That’s it,” Satoru teases, running his tongue up your neck and over that spot that makes you shudder. “Don’t be shy, love.”

“Let it out, Petal. Let us hear you.” He whispers, looking at Satoru whose eyes are fixated on you. He wants to taste you until you scream their names. Nibble at your exposed skin until you’re whining for him to stop. He loves the sex-crazed look you get in your eye when you’re about to cum, especially when it’s directed towards him. 

Their faces are so close that Suguru's lips hover not quite touching yours as Satoru is still buried in your neck.

You’re fucking dripping onto the counter, their goal obvious once they catch each other's eyes again and smirk.

“You going to squirt for us, Petal?” Suguru keeps going, hearing you whine but your moans grow louder the moment your body lets go. He leans down, not wanting it to go to waste as his hands slow down but his tongue makes up the work. He continues to lap at your pussy as Satoru watches with sharp lust-filled eyes. 

“Taste good?” Satoru asks as Suguru smirks, giving your pussy a lasting kiss before coming up to meet you and Satoru. It doesn’t take long for Satory to grip his chin to tug him closer. Running his tongue from his chin to his mouth before making out and tasting you all on Sugur’s tongue. Satoru moans into the kiss as Suguru deepens it, all the while, you try to catch your breath before leaning forward to rub Suguru through his boxers.

“Fuck…” Suguru gasps, feeling you lap at his neck while Satoru still has his tongue in his mouth.

This is fucking heaven and god, he doesn’t want to break this.

“Beg for it,” Satoru smirks, pulling away from Suguru but keeping him close enough to feel his breath on his lips. “Beg us to take care of you.” You give Suguru’s cock a gentle squeeze before leaning back against Satoru’s hard chest.

Suguru closes his eyes, swearing he could cum right now. Your gaze is so intense that he knows he’s going to be in for it once you get back to the room.

“Satoru. Petal. Please touch me.” He’s practically begging both of you to do what you want with him. 

“You think that was good enough, Peach?”

You grin, pushing him down to kneel in front of you. 

“I think you can do better than that.”

Satoru hums as both of you stand in front of Suguru with wide grins on your face.

“I know he can too. Guess we’re going to have to fuck it out of him, right Suguru?”

And god, does Suguru's mind grow completely cloudy just thinking about it. 

He can’t fucking wait.

© GOJOLATTE 2024 ➳ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED  PLEASE DO NOT Copy, Translate, Re-Upload, or Steal ANY of my work. Thank You, Beautiful People!

[sjmgirlie]

“I see so much potential for Lucien and Elain”

Where?

There has not been a single scene in 2 novels and 1 novella since we found out they were mates that alludes to any potential at all?

They haven’t even had one conversation where Feyre isn’t there carrying it? He lives on the other side of Prythian? Can't stand to be around her? She wants to leave the room each time he's there? Specifically sits away from him? Like where is the potential other than some sort of imagery (which I'll get to)? It ain't there.

“I can’t imagine a single conversation happening between Elain and Azriel”

Really?

They had one the first day they met. Talking about flying.

Not to mention on Solstice they stayed up to talk to each other when everyone else went to bed.

How do we know they didn’t talk when they were in the garden together?

“Azriel just stifles Elain. She’s just a damsel in distress”

You sure?

He literally gave her the knife he had literally never let anyone touch in 500 years to protect herself? Cassian didn’t want Nesta finding the troves either? Are we trying to say that a man who wants to protect a women is suddenly.. unattractive? Like idk about you, but I would love for a bat boy to save me lol. Or tell me not to do something for my safety. But okay.

“It’s just lust”

Let’s not even go there because a male willing to participate in a blood duel and renouncing his own religion is not just trying to have sex

“Lucien is the son of Helion and Elain needs sun!”

Ya?

Well Lucien has never had sun imagery. It’s fire from his Autumn Court heritage and in Hybern he released himself with SPELLS. Feyre was actually the person to cast out a bright light to break the wards, and we find out later that it’s a gift from the Dawn court. Lucien tells us this. Lucien has fire magic and is a spell cleaver, not the sun. ELAIN is the sun. Day court does not equal sun for Lucien. Sorry.

“Elain will never accept Azriel’s profession”

Oh?

Pretty sure she’s already accepted everyone in the Night Court. They all have jobs that are borderline sus. And considering the countless instances where we see Elain is actually very observant, I’m sure she knows what he does, yet she still leans into his touch. Not to mention Mr. fashion police Cassian also tells us that Elain is not a loyal dog. That she saw everything Nesta did and understood. Doesn't seem like she's not accepting to me.

"Azriel just wants a mate!!"

Seriously?

If the male wants a mate why would he bother spending time with a female he knows has one? Why wouldn't he be sailing around Prythian looking for her? Because she sure as shit isn't in the Night Court. And let's be honest, I don't think he will even be getting a mate if it's not Elain through some sort of different bond. Because there is no one in canon right now that could be his mate, and we only have 2 more novels and 1 novella left. And his book is next. Apparently we can all agree on that, but can't accept Elain is also getting the next book, aka their book together. And no, Gwyn is not his mate, because it would have already snapped into place. We had an 800 page book where they were in the vicinity of each other through all the training monologues (so maybe more 400 pages) and it didn't happen? Rhys knew before they left under the mountain. Literally happened at the end of the book. Cassian knew the first day he met Nesta. Lucien knew the second Elain took her first breath lol... it's not happening.

"Elain should be with Lucien and they would be High Lord and Lady of Day Court!!"

Ew?

You want to kill off Helion??? I want the novella to be about him and the Lady of Autumn tbh (even though it's likely Mor). Like? No, I need some sort of scene with Helion in each remaining book. I need more of him, biblically and spiritually. Also, have we forgotten “You can not resent my decision to lead a small quiet life..” ??? Elain said this in ACOSF to Nesta, like, do you think this girl wants to be High Lady all of a sudden? No. She doesn't.

"Elain needs to give Lucien a chance!!"

Why?

I swear everyone who says this has never been in that "Oh, well he's just such a nice guy!! Give him a chance" type of situation. Like why should I? WHY SHOULD SHE? He literally was an accomplice in her human life being stripped away from her. Should they end up being friends? Yes. Together romantically? No. If she doesn't want to give him a chance, which she clearly doesn't, then she doesn't need to. Stop diminishing choice in character arcs. Her whole arc, with Azriel and Lucien, is centred around choice in the first place.

"Azriel's shadows danced for Gwyn, so they are endgame"

Huh?

Don't get me wrong, the shadows are a part of Azriel, but I don't think they literally determine his life for him. Actually, I know this 100%. His shadows are under his command. Also, they danced for her breath, not Gwyn. Which is weird. Not to mention his shadows alert him in times of trouble and to gain information. Is it not weird they didn't alert him that she was there? Like that's not being wing-shadowy, that's screaming something sus is going on. (And no, I'm not anti-gwyn or even saying she's evil. Is she a lightsinger? Probably. The evidence is there. Does it mean she's bad? No.)

"Azriel's shadows hide from Elain, so they can't be together"

Lol?

Again, are Azriel's shadows the ones that command him? Or does he command them? And his shadows have disappeared for half of the IC. They disappear when there is no threat. They disappear when he doesn't want them there. Pretty sure Azriel's whole character doesn't just revolve around shadows. Sure, they are a huge part of his identity so far, but do we truly think that he wants to be reduced to them? Doubt it. He's probably had a very hard time coming to terms with the fact people have always looked at him differently because of it. I wouldn't be surprised if him becoming a Shadowsinger (since they came to him later in life in the dungeon) was a result of unfathomable trauma. Azriel does not only equal shadows only. We just don't know him yet.

"The BC sunk Eriel"

Truly?

You mean the bonus chapter where Azriel was about to get on his knees for a taste? The bonus chapter where Elain was giving him offer and permission? The bonus chapter where Rhys was the reason they DIDN'T actually kiss? The bonus chapter where Rhys became their obstacle and lifted the stakes not only on a personal level (with Elain thinking she was rejected, with Az and Rhys having a wedge between them) and politically (the potential downfall with god knows how many courts since Lucien is a drifter and the human lands)? Like we need the stakes!!!! This is what makes it worthwhile to read?? Forbidden romance? That should be enough intrigue. Plus anyone who genuinely thinks an author would write a male character willing to drop to his knees for a female (we've seen this with both Rhys and Cassian btw) only to have him move on in the next book is just idk. It's not possible. It would be so UNROMANTIC for them not to end up together. Like I would never forget Azriel wanted Elain's coochie so bad only to end up with someone else??? Ya, that's not romantic.

"Elain and Tamlin would be perfect mates"

Throws Up

So Elain is going to go to the only court where there is no gardening because the HL magic keeps everything in eternal bloom, only to shack up with her sister's ex who that same sister almost married and her mates ex best friend? Make it make sense. You're truly showing your hatred for stereotypical feminine qualities my friend. Tamlin needs some time to lick his wombs and maybe learn how to cook. He needs to stop isolating himself. And again, Elain is not his mate. Also, let's just add Elain is not ever leaving the Night Court. The series is about the Archeron sisters, and her sister is the literal High Lady of NC, not to mention her other sister is mated to the Illyrian General. Like be for real right now.

The End. 🌹🗡❤️🦇

[adventuringblind]

Drive With You Forever

Chapter Fourteen: The Rise and the Fall

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Chapter summary: Charles has a theory, Lando and Oscar get a better car, they group takes a trip to America to learn more about our reader

Warnings: Ferrari strategists, blood, mentions of death, gore, mentions of past abuse and neglect, medical abuse and malpractice, no graphic descriptions but r*ape is alluded too, panic attacks, mentions of sickness, cults, witchcraft is mentioned along with burnings

Notes: This one was hard. It gets really dark so please read the warnings.

Also, thank you for all the support for my writing! I'm terrible at responding to comments, but I want you to know that I see them and I appreciate every single one of you!

Previous <-

Masterlist

It’s always weird when things go back to normal. It feels temporary. Like she’ll never be able to rest easy because something else is going to happen.

Even when they’re here, relaxing after a race.

Things had been so crazy lately that none of them wanted to join in on the after party. Instead, they all lay comfortably with each other.

"So I have a theory." States Charles. His body splayed out at the foot of the bed. Next to him is Oscar. Max is laying the correct direction woth his legs over the top of the other two. Then Lando and Y/N are leaning against the bed, curled into each other on the floor.

"That's dangerous." Snickers Max. He receives a scowl from the Monegasque.

"What's your theory, Charlie?" Pipes the girl on the floor. It's never mattered the idea or thought. She always wants to hear it.

"At least one person wants to hear it." He grumbles. "Anyway, y/n has four entirely different abilities, and now she has four partners. Do you think it was meant to be?"

"It is an odd coincidence." States Oscar. He looks up from his phone and considers the statement.

"We could see if there's more to it than you know." Lando says into her hair.

It's not something she would've considered a year ago. But now, with everything she's survived, maybe it would be worth a look around. Show her boys where she used to live.

It's not pretty by any means, but it is a part of her.

~

Before they could take a trip to her home, they had to get through Silverstone. Lando is excited the car upgrades are doing their job and Oscar is absolutely petrified.

It doesn’t show on the camera or when he’s in the car, but when they catch him before the race after qualifying third, he looks terrified.

Charles and Max were upset they couldn’t get to him, ,raving it to the other two to make sure he’s properly encouraged before the race starts.

She standing in front of him holding his face with her hands. It could almost be intimidating if she wasn’t complimenting every fiber of his existence. She does it to all of them on bad days and it never fails to make them smile.

“Os, you are an amazing driver. There isn’t anything that can change that. Now you just have a car to prove that you’ve always been good.”

She kisses his forehead before he’s called to get into his car. Lando makes sure to also give him a pep talk before his engineers have to drag him away.

She bolts back to the Redbull garage. She has her own job to do. Even though she spends majority of her time watching the race in the screen, she dies still analyze data.

It proves difficult, however, when three of her lovers are in the top three places. She had to bite her tongue to hold in her excitement.

Then the unlucky safety car. She knew Oscar would be disappointed, but he's still in fourth.

Max crosses first, followed by Lando. The two are absolutely ecstatic. She can see the mild disappointment when Oscar isn't in the third spot.

Charles is definitely upset with how his race went. He'll need cheering up as well. Finishing ninth and having his strategy messed over again was not something he'd wanted this weekend.

She runs off to find Charles and Oscar first. They're waiting just outside the weigh station and she can see the both with sollum looks.

"I don't care what anyone says. You two were amazing despite the difficulties."

Charles just hugs her. He's tired and words are hard. Her embrace is relaxing and all he needs right now.

When the two are consoled for the moment, she knows she has to let them go. Their media duties are still part of the job even if they hate them.

She gets to leave with Charles first. Oscar and Lando are still finishing up media duties, and Max is doing his best to avoid them but failing.

Charles crashes as soon as he's in the room. Face planting on the bed and screaming into the pillows.

She sits next to him and plays with his hair. "I wish I could just be happy for Max and Lando- even Oscar!"

"It's okay to be upset, Sharl. Feelings have a way of escaping like that." She whispers to him gently. She ponders for a moment. "Maybe a cheat meal is in order."

Charles lifts his gaze from the bed to her and smiles. "I think you're a genius."

~

The other three come back much later than expected. The three of them are far too exhausted to do anything else but sleep.

Max opens the door for the three of them and is met with the lovely smell of food. He didn't realize how hungry he was until now.

The two who'd left earlier are sprawled out with a blanket on the floor. They'd found that tables in hotels never have enough chairs. The floor has become their table in these scenarios.

"Welcome back! We got dinner!"

The stresses of the day, the highs and the lows, fade into the back of everyone's minds. Their company enough for each other.

~

They'd left for America the next morning. She'd begged Sébastien to come with them, and he'd accepted. Though he was meeting them there.

None of them had seen her home before. The boys made sure she knew she could back out at any time. But it's almost as if she needs this. To finally close the lid on the box.

Sure, there may he a group of people after her now, but her father can't touch her. She has the freedom to go searching for her own answers.

Seb landed before them, so he was waiting for them when they landed. She jogged to hreet him and threw herself into his arms.

Seb had barely talked to Oscar in the past, and now they've had some video calls as a group, but nothing major. So, he settles for a hand shake and a warm greeting. "These four treating you well?"

"Always room for improvement." Oscar laughs as the other four feign hurt and shock.

"I think we're going to get along fantastic."

The ride from the airport to the property is ridiculous. A handful of back roads and small towns make for fun stops, but it's still long.

She'd had to message Guenther about the address. She'd never needed to learn it, so she never had. She only knew property lines.

Finally, they're turning down a familiar overgrown dirt driveway. Everyone can see her body tense up.

"Are you okay? Should we stop here?" Asks the Brit. He's trying not to let his worry for her show, but his voice fails him.

"No, I'm fine. It's still about a mile from this point."

The land is overgrown and eery. It's not long til they can see the warehouse in the distance. It was larger than they'd imagined. Lando had pictured something like a shed and Oscar just ran with that idea. Charles thought maybe a prison or one of those abandoned hospitals. Max didn’t care, he just knew whatever it was couldn’t be good.

The building itself looked menacing. The sides are covered with vines and there were random bits of debris scattered around the property. It looks both unsafe and unsanitary.

Seb stops the car a few arid away from the entrance. Everyone getting out of the SUV, except for her. Charles comes around the side and opens her door. “Mon amour, we don’t have to go any further.”

“I want too, just need a minute.” She sighs. Charles can see the glaringly obvious unease in her eyes. He laces her fingers with his and lets her take her time getting out of the vehicle. He refuses to let go even after she’s out.

They walk hand in hand to the metal door that everyone assumes is the entrance. Max has set himself in front of everyone, nothing unusual, but he kept Lando and Oscar behind him instead of letting them walk with him. The gloomy feeling of the building not helping protective nature.

Max attempts to get the door open. His attempt being foiled by things in the way. She watches on as the five males struggle to get it open.

“What the hell is behind this thing?” Asks a heaving Lando.

“Shelves I reckon.” Guesses the Aussie.

then the door busts open and then tumble down to the floor in a heap. “It was locked actually.” Smirks the female. “took me a minutes to get it open.”

Charles groans and shoves himself out from underneath the pile. “We loosened it for you.”

~

The building is just as eery inside as out. The group stick close to eachother as they explore about.

The female leads them to where the braker box is. All of them practically keel over when she gets on the lights.

The sight they are met with is terrifying. Almost as if they walked into some sort of horror movie.

There are bodies tagged and lined up, which explains the rotting smell. Machinery litters the ground. Bigger machines that none of them know the purpose of are in their own sections of the warehouse.

"It's not what you were expecting..." She fidgets with her fingers.

"I don't think it's about what we were expecting. I think that all of us hate that you had to live like this." Oscar explains carefully. Charles had yet to let go of her, and Oscar now sits himself on her other side.

Lando peeks his head around another set of shelves. "It almost looks like he was part of a cult." He scrunchs his nose in disgust.

"I wouldn't be shocked if he was." She points to a set of stairs. "My room and his office are up that way."

The group trek up the stairs and are met with a set of office style rooms. She leads the all the way down the hall to the furthest door on the right. She pushes open the door and inside is her room, exactly how she’d left it. The screen is even still missing from when she took it out. “This is my room.”

Her partners and adopted father file into the room. It’s not a large room and there is not much to look at. A mattress on the floor and some old books is as exciting as it gets.

They are all rendered speechless and she doesn’t know what to do. So she takes them to the next room. The door across the hall is filled with machinery. What they used to help with the F1 cars. The bigger machines are scattered about, but this room help some of the smaller testing components. “I spent a lot of time in here.” She smiles at them to hopefully lighten the mood.

She steps out again and points at the door beside it. “That one is where he used to hold the corpses. Since the Haas team was here often enough he didn’t want them to be seen.” Then she sighs again and starts back down the hall. “The rest is really for storage. My father spent majority of his time in the lower levels.”

“We can stop now if you need. Or take a break and get some air.” Suggests Seb. His fatherly instincts tell him this may be to much for her right now.

She shakes her head no. “I’ve just always hated the basement. It’s where he keeps all the important things.”

Max eyes her skeptically. “Important things?”

“Like food and my mothers corpse. The only way I could get food is to try and bring her back.” She shrugs. She can hear Max suppressing an angry growl.

They make their way to the stairs on the opposite end of the building. The lighting down below considerably darker then the upper floors.

The basement room looks as if it’s been carved out. Like it wasn’t here originally. At the center lies a beautifully adorned casket. She gestures to it. “This is my mom. I’ll spare you the disgust and not open that.”

The other side of the room houses a desk with books and a laptop. She’d forgotten he had that. She’d gotten caught on numerous occasions trying to use it. She eyes the laptop and then slips it into her bag. Something Seb had made her bring just incase she did find anything she wanted to take with her.

The laptop is newer then she remembers. Something like what she used for work.

The vials that he’d been injecting her with to supposedly rewrite her DNA are still sitting on a metal table, along with other medical tools.

She steps over to it. The bed he used to operate wasn’t a a traditional one. It was another casket sent on top of a table. He’d used it to remind her of why he was doing it, what her mother had felt, where she lays now permanently.

She can feel the walls closing in as she opens it. The woods inside still stained red. Memories of the times he’d cut her open just to sew her back up.

The vague sensation of teeth and hands on her skin fills her senses as the ground falls out from under her.

~

Max is the first to hear her breathing quicken. He’s standing almost next to her, observing, taking in every piece of information. Charles had gone with Seb and Oscar to explore a different offshoot. Seb had noticed weird writing on the wall and wanted to investigate.

They were right down the hall so Max wasn’t to worried about them. His attention now completely on the female.

She shrieks. Her body goes rigid. Then she’s falling the the ground.

Max catches her and Lando slides down next to them. Both look between her and each other. A dull pulsing light emitting from her skin but her hands and trailing all the way to her chest.

The other three come back into the room and frantically look around. “What happened.”

“She was looking at something, froze, then fell over.”

Lando can’t even get words off his tongue. Max can see him struggling and knows he needs to get everyone out of the building. “Seb can you help get Lan out of here?” Seb nods and drags the Brit back up the stairs. He would’ve sent Oscar with him since his demeanor seemed to calm the other, but ever since the bunker incident, Oscar was more panicked when away from her.

Charles and Max haul her up the stairs and out of the building while Oscar guides and moves things out of the way. He also took her bag so they didn’t have to deal with it swinging back and forth.

Finally they are able to drape her body across the middle seat of the SUV. The glow now diminishing but the girl’s condition seemingly getting worse. The blood, sweat, and tears they are used to seeing are being intensified.

Seb manages to get Lando to breathe then the five are able to discuss.

“I think her father may have been a cult leader.” Confesses Seb. The Germans eyes are sad and distraught but he’s doing his best to remain calm.

Oscar is sitting with the females head in his lap. He’s almost defensively holding her body, something they all noticed he started doing after they were rescued. “We found a book about her mom. Looks like the same handwriting in all the notes.”

“The scariest part is that she endured the same things.” Charles runs his palms over his bare skin, a nervous tick that Max tried to keep him from doing because he rubbed his skin raw. “She could do similar things to her, it seems. Whatever happened after is hard to piece together. She wasn’t meant to get pregnant, I don’t think, at least not when she did.”

“She served as some sort of alter. They did things that ar unspeakable.”

Max stands behind Charles and holds his hands to hopefully ease the need to turn his skin red. “Do you think the cult is who’s after her now? If they need her to complete whatever rituals they’re doing, it would make sense they’d want her back.”

“I think that she is more to them then any of us could’ve guessed.”

~

The ride back to the airport was long and contemplative. They decided not to go back to Monaco for now and instead head with Seb to Germany. The female still had yet to wake up and Lando is becoming increasingly more aware war of every time she inhales.

He sits in the back seat with Charles, leaning into the monegasque’s shoulder. “Do you think she’ll be ok?” He asks.

“Pretty sure nothing can get her at this point. Plus, she’s already looking better.” Charles reassures him. Yet the sinking feeling in his gut is still there.

They have too carry her into the plane. Lando watches on as Max bundles her in his arms and carries her inside. Lando jumps on the opportunity to sit with her. He eases her body into his, grateful that she’s not burning up anymore.

They sleep most the ride home, aside from Charles who is picking through the found journals. Lando is finally able to rest his mind to the feeling of her steady heartbeat against his hand.

~

Hanna is in full mother mode as soon as her husband, daughter, and her daughters four partners step through the door.

She has them set the unconscious female in the room they keep for them should they visit. She's quick to clean her up and change her clothes into comething comfortable. She doesn't let any of the boys near her, much to their protest.

It's quiet around the house. Nobody knows what to say. Where are they supposed to go from here?

Seb pulls the laptop out of the girls bag and finds a suitable charger. He knows he'll have to pick through it eventually. He just hopes she'll be awake before then.

"What if she doesn't wake up?" Lando is the first to voice his concern. "I know she always does... but this feels different."

"Don't say such things, Lando." Charles has kept himself curled up in an empty corner of the living area. He's dealt with so much loss already that he doesn't think he could take another. He's been spiraling since she's been out of sight, and it's visible in everything he does. "My question is why they wouldn't put her father away to begin with if he's leading a cult?"

"They may not have known. It seems they've been around for some time, and since Haas was paying him for work, I don't doubt there was money involved." Seb leans futher back into his chair. Even he is panicking. Though he's trying to remain calm for the youngers sake.

Max can't take it anymore and gets up from his place on the sofa and plant himself next to Charles. He wraps the Monegasque in his arms protectively. His body doesn't relax all the way, but the tears he'd been holding back now find Max's shirt.

Oscar is pacing. He's been pacing. He hasn't stopped moving since the female left his sight, and he's on the verge of toppling over mentally.

He's been mumbling this to himself. Definitely not things they've heard him say before. They all look as him with worried expressions.

"Jack?" He freezes at the nickname. Then he finds a place next to Lando who'd called for him.

The look in his eyes is one they've grown used to. He's thinking through a problem. Looking for every tiny detail. "They were talking about things in front of me while I was drugged." He declares.

Now it's everyone else's turn to freeze. They hadn't pushed Oscar to talk about things. He'd been doing that with his therapist. They'd almost that forced on him after he couldn't get past the separation anxiety. Thankfully, he had complied and was doing better mentally when he wasn't with one of them.

Now, to hear him openly state such a thing is both promising and terrifying.

They continue to just listen and let him work at his own pace. Lando plays with his fingers to remind him he's here with them and safe.

"There were complications with the birth. They knew her mother was getting older, so they would need a replacement, but she ended up in labor early so they couldn't finish."

"The journal also gives detailed instructions about what the process was that created them." Charles adds into the conversation. Pieces are starting to click together now. "It's dated back from forever ago as well. Something about starting from a line of witches, supposedly."

"But why do they need her specifically?" Max leans in closer to Charles. The unease and addiment need to keep his lovers safe is doing nothing for his own anxiety.

Seb leans forward now. He's pondering what he found as well, trying to link every bit of information. "Because she's the last of the bloodline." Seb only gets stares in return.

"Explain, please." Despite all of them being confused, Lando is the only one brave enought to voice it.

"Well, since I've picked her up when she was fifteen, it's always been men that she's talked about. There were never any females in the picture, I believe. So she might be the last of her bloodline."

"The journals sort of prove that as well. The history of it is muddled and doesn't make sense, but there is a story written about a lone female survivor during a burning. Some of the men who had already fancied her decided to use her in whatever ways they deemed neccecary, but she only ever bore one child." Charles recalls the story but cringes while doing so. He was sparing them the most gruesome details. "I think they took is as a sign and continued the tradition."

"Then why would he make it so she can't have a child?" Again, Lando asks the questions that confuse all of them.

"Anger makes you do unfathomable things." Seb sighs.

~

It doesn’t take long for the computer to charge. Everyone sits at the dining room table as seb opens it up for the first time. All of them are shocked it’s not locked. The man obviously didn’t think it was going anywhere.

Seb looks through some files and they can see him getting paler by the second. “There are videos and pictures on here and a few emails back and forth with a couple people but that’s all.” Then he pales out completely. “Hanna, can you make sure the kids stay upstairs?” Seb turns the computer toward her for a mere second and she looks sick.

“Don’t go too far, please.” She pleads, then hurries off upstairs. It’s an agreement that he’ll stop if he can’t take it. A plea that he won't invade too much of their adoptive daughters' privacy.

“If you guys want to see this that we’ll make so all of us only do this once. Otherwise we can figure it out.”

“What have you seen so far?” Questions Max. His nerves are increasing with every second and his leg is bouncing rapidly underneath the table.

Again, Seb looks like he might vomit. “I’ve already see photos of what they did. It’s not good and she’s completely exposed in most of it.”

All of them collectively swallow.

~

All of them felt sick watching the screen, listening to the screams. They moved past a majority it to the parts where a man (presumably her father) was monologuing.

He wasn’t meant to fall for her. Only meant to do what was necessary and give them a continuing line. When she died prematurely, he went into a completely psychotic state of mind.

Everything they did that involved the mother seemed bad enough. It only escalated for the female that’s currently unconscious.

then he revealed his plan.

Make her strong enough to bring back his beloved. Make sure she can’t have any children so they don’t have a choice if they want to attempt to continue in their faith of these miraculous beings.

And he caught every second of it.

Every ritual.

Every procedure.

Every time they took something from her.

They all felt sick. The rage mixed with violent sickness shaking all the males to their core.

They just want their toy back.

And they wouldn’t rest until they had her back.

~

Next ->

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[seventeenpins]

wanna be felled by you, held by you

pairing: Joel Miller x nonbinary!Reader

word count: 4.7k

summary: Joel has always issues with relinquishing control. Time in the safety and community of Jackson has changed him, though, and he wants to give all his control to you, let you pull him apart.

content/warnings: established relationship, non-binary transmasculine reader, no implied age gap, Joel is uncircumcised, vaguely implied past Joel x Reader x Tess polycule, Joel calls you sir & daddy, you call Joel a good boy, sub!joel, cock sucking, titty fucking (reader has breasts big enough to partake in such), face sitting, piv, a smidge of dysphoria alluded to, crying, everyone's bi, one (1) smack to the face, it's literally just 4.3k of smut with 400 words of domesticity, slight bit of bloodthirstiness (but just as love as consumption)

a/n: title from NFWMB by Hozier. There's a lot of fic out there with helpless naive reader (which is fucking excellent, don't get me wrong), but I wanted to write something where you and Joel are on par with one another. Also, wanted to say--this is written as one character's experience as a nonbinary person. I'm nonbinary, but in no way want to suggest that the way I've written this is necessarily a universal nonbinary experience. Pls be kind 💜 Would love to know if y'all like this and would read more nb reader fics!!

✨check out my masterlist for other fics 😚✨

The first time Joel asked you to blindfold him and fuck him rough, you thought he was joking.

You laughed and stroked his cheek, "That would be fun," you admitted, teasing, "Be careful what you wish for, baby."

He rolled his eyes and kissed you, and the day went on, uneventful.

The thought weighed on you. It would be fun, but this was Joel Miller talking. He was, arguably, something of a control freak. Insistent on shouldering burdens not only his own, but of all the people he loved. You'd never seen him willingly give up an ounce of control, and the few unwilling times it'd happened, he would drive himself nearly to death trying to seem unaffected by injury. He'd carry on as he insisted he must, even when his bones were broken or he was bleeding out. Even when you, or Ellie, or, Tess (back in the day) were patching up cuts or setting bones, he'd grumble and insist he was fine, only shutting up when he quite literally passed out from the pain or blood loss. He was as stubborn as he was devoted, and he was a devoted man.

So the idea of Joel relinquishing even a crumb of control seemed outlandish. You were a better shot than him. A faster runner, too. But he was so self-possessed. You were certain, too, it was part of the reason he was such a good fuck. He payed attention to every detail, noticed every one of your gasps and whines, at this point able to get you off faster than you could get yourself off. His fingers knew right where to press, his tongue licking and sucking at you, teeth biting at nipples, grip bruising you so deliciously. He could fuck you for hours and leave you stumbling, spent and sated.

That said, it'd be a lie to say it was an unappealing thought to turn the tables on him.

You'd love to pull him apart piece by piece, if he would ever let you.

Joel was off patrolling today, due back any time, and you were making dinner. You were thankful for the ingredients available in Jackson and swore to make good use of them, every single time.

You'd roasted butternut squash with garlic and sage, scooped out the flesh, and mixed it with spinach and cheese. Then, carefully piped it back into the squash skins and roasted it again.

It was decadent, and a favorite of yours. Rich and creamy and everything you loved about autumn flavors.

Right as you were turning the oven on to broil, you heard the latch click and heavy footsteps crossed the threshold.

"Supper's nearly ready," you call, and you hear a soft grumble from across the room as he stomped off his boots and hung up his coat.

Joel slides up behind you, arms circling around your stomach, chin resting on your shoulder.

"Hey baby," you greet, turning your head to place a kiss on the curve of his nose. "Good day?"

"Hmm," he grunts, noncommittal, "Better now that I'm home with you. Dinner smells great."

"Just a few more minutes left. Letting the cheese get bubbly."

"Mmm," he groaned, "Is this that squash thing?"

"Yep."

"Ellie home?"

"Nah. Out for the night, I think."

"So I get you all to myself?" He shoots you a cheeky grin.

"Don't distract me, Miller," you snort, "You will not cause me to burn dinner again, so help me God."

"Distract you?" He says in mock offense as he walks over to the fridge, "I would never distract you, baby."

He pulls out two beers and pops the tops, handing one to you. You clink with him and both take a swig. Jackson beer was something else. After years of nothing even slightly palatable, it was a luxury you swore you would never take for granted again.

Your timer buzzes and you pull the roasting pan out of the oven as Joel sets the table.

Dinner is pleasant. Joel's famished from patrol and he wolfs down his first serving at a speed that might have rivalled Ellie's, back when you were all travelling together. He finishes his first beer, and then a second, and when he reaches for the whiskey, you raise an eyebrow at him.

"You're really putting that away," you frown, and he winces, sheepish.

"I-" He starts, and stumbles, hesitating.

"You okay, Joel?" You ask.

He nods, and grins, and it's a funny grin because if you didn't know better you'd think he was nervous.

"I'm a bit nervous," he says, and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Why you nervous baby? Did something go bad on patrol?"

"No, I-"

"You trying to propose?" you tease, "Wait, no--you're cheating on me?"

"Oh shut up," he rolls his eyes and laughs. "Nothin' so serious."

"So-?" you press, "What is it then?"

He pours a finger of whiskey and takes a sip, and it's calculated. Calming. That bit of control, again, he needs to put off.

"You remember the other week, what I said?"

"My back hurts?" you suggest.

"Smartass," he snorts.

"My knees hurt."

"Jesus. No, the other thing."

You try and take account of whatever it might be, but nothing's coming to you.

"I have no clue what you're talking about, Joel."

He takes a deep breath and looks at you dead in the eye. Determined.

"I know you thought I was joking, but I wasn't joking," he says, "I want you to blindfold me. Fuck me rough. Let me... lose myself in you. Use me."

There's a moment of silence.

"You sure, Joel?" you ask, not wanting to sound too eager. "Cos I'm happy to do it, I just know that... well. If I were to expect anyone would like to be blindfolded, you're not at the top of my list."

"Oh really? And who's at the top of your list."

"Well, I bet Tommy would--"

Joel cuts you off with a sputtering cough as his whiskey goes down wrong. "Let's not talk about my brother right now."

"I remember Tess used to," you recall, and Joel nods. Shrugs.

"I guess I just- I've never seen you out of control. You sure you can do that for me?"

Joel ponders and nods. "I can be good for you," he insists.

"Okay, then," you tell him, "When do you wanna do this?"

"Well," he grins, and runs a hand down your arm, "Like you said, we'll be alone tonight."

"Joel Miller, you absolute freak," you tease and he grumbles.

You ponder for a moment before nodding. "Okay, baby, let's get showered and then we can start. I'm covered in cooking sweat, and I think you might still have a bit of clicker gunk on you."

He brushes at a chunk of something in his hair and grimaces. "I'll take care of dishes later. Let's go, baby."

Shower sex wasn't really your thing; there was always less friction than you'd expect, and one person would hog the water while the other was standing, freezing in the extraneous spray. It was easy to slip, and the angle was never quite right.

You did, however, love shower foreplay.

You let Joel run his hands across your back, spreading suds up and down you, rubbing at the sore impressions where your binder had cut into you throughout the day. You loved feeling his body, slick from the wet with coarse curls of hair across his entire chest, trailing down his torso, his belly, into the thick thatch between his legs. More than anything, though, you loved feeling his cock hardening against your leg as he massaged conditioner into your scalp, before you could turn around and return the favor.

Once you were both clean, you made your way to the bedroom.

Thankful that you'd changed the sheets this morning, you were thrilled that the bed was made with your favorite linen sheets. A little luxury that you could bask in, sensation that always delivered.

"You ready, Joel?" you ask, and he nods.

"Let's do it."

From the box under the bed, you pull out the blindfold. A makeshift piece that was once a sleeping mask, cut and stitched to have long, tying ends that could be pulled taught and prevent any light getting in. The two of you didn't use it often, and you'd been the only one to ever wear it, but it helped that it was a familiar thing.

"Sit," you tell him, and he backs up on to the bed. You take a moment to look him up and down, drink him in. You want him to see how you're looking at him. At all of him. From his freshly washed feet to his heavy, half-hard cock, to the damp curls of his salt-and-pepper hair, you want him to know exactly what it is you see. A man. A partner. A whole fucking meal.

You hold the blindfold up to him and wrap it around his head, crossing the ends over front and back again before giving it a little tug.

"Can you see anything?" you ask, and his face twitches a little as he tests it.

"No," he confirms, "Can't see a thing."

"Okay," you tell him, "Good boy."

He lets out a sharp, surprised exhale and you immediately see how his cock stiffens at your words.

"Oh, you like that, huh?" you ask, and he nods.

"Use your words, Joel," you tell him and he scrambles to obey.

"Yes, yes, sir, I like that."

"Mmm," you hum in affirmation, "Glad to hear it."

You start torturously slow, directing him as needed.

"Lay back," you tell him, "All the way on the bed," and he does, inching his way up.

"Arms up, too," you command, "You don't get to touch me without my say-so, got it?"

He lets out a grumble but nods.

"I'm gonna take my time with you," you tell him, and now you're making your way up the bed, close to straddling him, but not letting an inch of your skin press against his hard cock.

You know that the warmth of your cunt is radiating heat towards him, and that he can feel it as his hips unconsciously buck up towards you, focused enough that he still doesn't dare touch you, but not by much. You feel yourself start to get wet at the sight of him laid bare before you. It's times like these that you're awe-struck. So in love with this man you want to slice him open and bury yourself in the sticky wet viscera. Eat his guts. Kill for him. Die for him. Consume every part of him and let him consume you.

You lean over his body and press kisses to every silvered scar you can find. From his forehead, to the old bullet wound on his arm. Down his chest, his belly. The gouge you and Ellie had had to stitch up years ago, ugly and pink and perfect; a testament to his endurance.

Every press of your lips to his skin and Joel is gasping. You know he's feeling it--the thing you like most about being blindfolded is not knowing where sensation will occur next. Not being able to anticipate a touch here, a bite there, the way his hands grip your body. The surprise is part of the allure, and with every kiss you place on his bare skin, he lets out another shuddering breath.

"You're doing good for me," you praise, and you swear you can see him blush, his cheeks reddening beneath the blindfold.

You start slowly, dragging your calloused fingertips from the swell of his thighs, up his torso to his nipples, pinching them a little, delighting in the way he shudders at the sensation. You avoid his cock, but every time you run your fingers along his inner thighs, he would rut up towards you in a mortifying involuntary motion.

He was so eager. He was so fucking perfect. Exactly what you needed. You were so grateful, every day, that you'd made it this far when it had often felt impossible that you might live another day.

"Gonna let me play with you the way I want to?" you ask, and he nods, vigorous.

"So good for me," you tell him, "So good. Hard for me, ready for me to use, huh?"

"Yes," he agreed, "Use me, please."

You rub your drooling pussy against his length, getting it wet and slick. Then, you take his cock in your hand.

He wasn't expecting it and he's shuddering at the sensation. "It's so much," he whispers, awed.

Joel thrusts into your hand as you start pumping along his length in earnest. Your thumb swipes over his slit, and then slides down, gripping with your forefinger as you apply pressure to the base of his shaft, You watch as the blood vessels swell, your hands working as a pseudo-cock ring, and Joel whimpers and pants against the sensation.

"Look at how fat your cock is for me," you praise, "I can't wait to sit on this."

Joel's inhale sounds ragged and worn, and he exhales something close to a sob.

"Feel so good, honey," he tells you, "Fuck, your hands feel so good around me."

"You like this, huh, Joel?" you ask, and you know it's true. He's so hard, rubbing against you as he gives you all his faith, all his trust.

"Yes, Christ, yes!-" he gasps.

You give him a few more strokes and then lower yourself over him, holding your breasts tight together, letting his hard cock press up between them.

Your breasts weren't your favorite thing, God knows if top surgery were a safe option in this world you'd probably opt for it, but apart from an occasional dysphoric spell, you'd more or less made peace with that part of yourself. You knew, too, how Joel loved feeling the plush of your breasts against his skin, and when you were comfortable, you were happy to make the most of them.

The second you slid his cock between your heavy breasts, Joel lets out a strangled groan. "God, yes baby," he heaves, and without thinking, reaches to grab at you, clutching your shoulder with one hand and burying his hand in your hair with the other.

You immediately stop and draw back, delivering a firm smack to his jaw. Not enough to hurt, just enough to startle, and he reels back, throwing his head back onto the pillow.

"The fuck did I say, hmm?" you ask, and he lets out a breath.

"I'm sorry baby, sorry sir-"

"You know what you did wrong?"

"Touched you-" his breathing is heavy, labored in the most beautiful, raw way. "Touched you without your permission."

"That's right," you tell him. You drag your fingertips through his hair, along his scalp, down his neck and across his chest. He shudders and his hips buck up towards nothing, involuntary.

"You gonna be good for me now?" you ask him and he nods, vigorous.

"I'll be good for you," he hisses, "You're so good to me, fuck, thank you, thank you-!"

You lean back down, pressing your breasts together again. Fisting his cock and stroking it, watching him squirm. You press down again, letting him fuck up between your tits.

"Don't move," you warn him when you see his fingers start to twitch, "Keep those hands above your head and let me make you feel good."

"Yes sir-"

"Good boy."

He groans, and you start to move. Pressing your breasts tighter together, swallowing his length entirely, gliding up and down. You feel the slick of his tip starting to weep precum, smell the delicious tang of it.

With your free hand, you swipe a thumb over his head, delighting in the way he squirms and ruts against you.

You lick the slickness off your thumb and moan. "Taste so good, baby," you tell him, "You wanna try it?"

"Oh fuck, yes, please," he whines.

You swipe your thumb over his slit again and bring it up to his mouth, still sliding your breasts up and down his length.

"Open up," you direct, prodding at the side of his mouth. He does, opens his mouth with a shuddering breath, tongue glistening and ready. You press your thumb against his tongue and he licks and sucks at it greedily.

"Look at you," you tell him, "Licking up your own cum like a good boy, huh? So fucking good for me."

"Thank you sir," he hums, and you give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I'm gonna suck your cock now, Joel," you tell him, "And then I'm gonna ride you. And I'm gonna get myself off at least three times on you before you get to come. You got that?"

"Jesus Christ," he groans, "Yes-! Can I-" he cuts himself off.

"What?" you ask.

"Can I eat your pussy?" he asks.

You grin. "Ooh, look at you," you tell him, "Taking the initiative, huh? What a good boy you are. But you gotta be patient for me."

You scoot back on the bed and let a string of saliva drip from your mouth onto the head of his cock. He immediately shudders and fucks his hips up towards the air.

"Blindfold still blocking everything, yeah?" you ask.

"Yeah," he confirms, "Can't see a thing."

"Good," you say, and then without an ounce of warning, you grip his cock, stroking down, pulling his foreskin back and plunging the hot wet gash of your mouth down and around his entire length, nose pressing into the sweaty curls at his base.

The shout he lets out is delicious. Loud and strangled, half an exclamation, half a curse–"Fuck baby, Jesus fuckin' Christ that mouth feels so fucking good. I don't fuckin' deserve you, don't deserve how fuckin' perfect you are, how good you make me feel-"

You bob your head up and down, swallowing him deep and then pulling back, making sure to swirl your tongue along his head.

"So damn good," he gasps, and his words are stilted and broken.

You keep going, for maybe a minute, maybe an hour. The sensation is too much and he's panting and gasping. "I can't-" he cries, "you're gonna make me come, please-"

You pull off immediately, and he hisses at the loss of your lips around him, and then moans into your mouth when you lean in to lick against his tongue, letting him taste every bit of his own musk.

"You're doing good, baby," you praise, loving the way he shudders in response. "Now hold still, I'm gonna ride that cock."

You straddle his hips, swipe your cunt along his length, feeling the way he shakes and twitches against you. You're wet, so damn turned on, soaking, trailing your slick along him as you rut up against him. Then, you fist his cock and, excruciatingly slowly, sink down onto him.

The broken wail that escapes his lips is delicious, ragged and beautiful.

You bounce up and down, watching with pleasure as Joel's fingers twitch, like he's trying so hard not to reach for you, grab for you like he usually does.

You rock along his length, sliding up and down, nearly unseating him from you before sinking back down. You find the right angle for his cock head to press just right against that sweet spot and feel your legs start to shake.

"I can feel it," he grunts, teeth bared, "Feel you getting close."

"Think you deserve to feel me come around you?" You ask, and you can feel it approach. "Think you can feel me come all over this dick and you won't come yourself?"

"Yes, sir," he cries out, "I'll be so good for you. Won't come till you let me."

"Good boy," you stroke his cheek and rub your thumb over your clit in punishing circles, feel your pussy start to clench.

"Gonna ride this out," you tell him, and feel yourself tip over the edge with a broken gasp. Your walls throb around him, pulsing tightly, and Joel looks absolutely pained as you slam yourself down him over and over, practically choking his cock with your tightness.

You're heaving and half-overstimulated but the way he looks wrecked is so beautiful you need more.

"Think you can handle another one?" You ask and he splutters a gasp.

"Already?" he breathes.

You keep your thumb pressing circles round your clit as you keep riding.

"Already." You agree. You've barely finished riding through the aftershocks but you're so wound up, you know you can get yourself there quickly.

"Fuck," Joel whines, "Oh god, oh god-"

You feel yourself start to tip over the edge again and Joel's face is screwed up in concentration, doing his absolute best not to bust in you before he has your permission. His cheeks and chest are flushed, sweat dripping down his temple, soaking into the blindfold. He breathes ragged, heaving breaths and the sight before you makes you come all that much harder.

"God, you feel so fucking good, baby," you tell him, and your pussy's still clenching around him, your slick gushing around him, drenching his thighs.

You pull off of him and he chokes at the loss of contact.

"Gotta taste us now, baby. Clean this pussy up. When you're done, I'll let you come."

He nods, eager, and opens his mouth, his tongue waiting to taste you.

"Need you down the bed," you tell him, and he scoots down, tongue still out. You climb up his body, straddling his stomach and his chest, trailing slick all up his torso, before resting your knees on either side of his face and slowly lowering down.

He's so dedicated, the moment he feels your heat near him you can see the way his mouth waters, his tongue darting out to find your folds. He licks you deep and long, groaning at the taste.

"How do we taste?" you ask, and his exhale is shaky and rough.

"Never tasted anythin' this good in my life." He tells you, wrecked. "We taste so fuckin' good together. Could drink ya all day long."

"We might have to try that," you ponder, "But for now, I just need you to give me one more. Can you do that? One more, baby boy?"

"Fuck, yes sir." He nods his head vigorously and reaches his neck up to press his lips back to your dripping cunt.

"Yeah, that's it. Nice long strokes now, yeah? You gotta swallow every drop of me baby, every drop of this pussy juice I can give you."

He grunts an affirming noise and does as you ask. Long licks from taint to clit. Deep, hot, laving wetness, making you jerk and mewl, riding his face like he was made to take it. Maybe he was.

"When it's good and clean," you instruct, "I need you to focus on this clit, yeah? That's it, baby, point your tongue. Press hard. I've already come twice and I'm nearly numb– Need that extra bit of sensation if you're gonna get me off right, and I know you will get me off right if you wanna come tonight."

Every sound he makes is akin to a whine, a gasp, a sob. He buries his face deep, at one point nearly reaching up to grab your thighs and pull you closer, but he realizes his mistake before he starts to touch you.

"Good boy remembering the rules," you praise, and you grab him by the wrists, holding them against the bed, above his head. You sink lower, letting yourself nearly suffocate him, but he doesn't mind. He loves it. Growls into your pussy and eats you till tears are pooling in his eyes and your legs are trembling so hard you're worried any extra sensation might topple you over. It's building quick and fast and so fucking nice.

"Joel, I-" you stumble, nearly unable to speak. Overwhelmed. "I think I'm gonna come again." You say, and you feel the rumble of his affirmation against you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes just like that, you eat pussy so fucking good, I'm gonna, I'm gonna-"

You come with a scream, thighs smothering him, hips rocking against his chin, his tongue, his nose. The scratch of his patchy beard feels incredible against your soft skin and you fuck his face hard, less careful than ever before about how you sink into him.

Catching your breath, sated, you pull yourself up and off Joel, licking his face clean of your cum as you allow him to catch his breath.

"Done so good for me," you tell him, "You ready to come now too?"

"Yes-" he cries, still gasping for breath, "Yes, sir."

"Can't believe we've never done this before," you praise, "You're a natural. Just gotta give up a little control like a good boy, let daddy make you feel good."

He shudders and twitches, groaning at the name you've given yourself.

You turn your attention back to his cock and nearly gasp. It looks red and angry with need, precum catching at his foreskin before overflowing, streaming down his length.

"Where do you want to come?" you ask him, giving him this one concession.

"Huh?" he asks, clearly surprised.

"In me?" you suggest, "On me? Pick a hole. Pick a body part. It's yours."

"Jesus," he groans, and thinks. "Your mouth," he decides, "Wanna come in that sweet mouth."

"It's yours."

You seat yourself at the end of the bed and give him a few kitten licks, loving the way he hisses as you clean the arousal off of him. "You can come for me whenever you want, now, baby," you tell him. "Did so good, I think you deserve it."

"Thank you," he cries, "Fuck, thank you baby."

You pull his foreskin back again and wrap your lips around his throbbing head, loving the taste of the tangy musk of the nectar spilling from him. You don't go down far, just around the head and back again, just a little. Sucking hard. Licking. Drinking him in. He shudders and gasps and cries and you're pretty sure he's weeping at this point, his hips bucking up, pressing his cock deeper and deeper down your throat.

You let him. He's certainly earned it by now.

In a few moments, his thrusts get erratic, and you run your teeth gently along the pulsing veins, marveling at the beautiful, intricate web of life that rushes through him, red and hot and so close to the surface. Blood pumping so fast and thick.

"I'm comin'-" he chokes, and suddenly, hot sputtering bursts of cum filling your mouth, coming and coming and coming till it's dripping out the sides of your lips and dripping down your chin.

You keep a hand around the base of his cock, jacking him gently till you're sure everything he has to give is in you. Running a hand up his body, you delight in the harsh, heavy breaths he gasps out.

Groping around his head, you pull at the blindfold, tugging gently till it's pulled above his eyes. He scrunches them closed for a moment, readjusting to the lit room, before looking at you, jaw dropped.

You're sitting before him, totally bare, skin sticky with sweat, thighs glistening, and his cum in your mouth, except for where it's dripped down your chin and breasts. You open your mouth to show him, just for a moment, and then swallow, delighting in the way he groans at the sight. Then you wipe your chin with the back of your hand, lick it up, and pull him up towards you so you can kiss him properly.

He grabs you by the back of the head and pulls you in, hungry and sated at the same time.

"That was so good, honey," he tells you, "So fucking good."

You give him a gentle kiss to his forehead, enjoying the sensation of your sweaty, sticky bodies pressed against one another. His tears, unimpeded now, are streaming down his cheeks but he's grinning like a maniac.

"Never thought you'd let someone fuck you blindfolded like that," you tell him and he snorts.

"Me neither," he admits, "But- I trust you. And I'm workin' on it. On bein'- vulnerable."

"I liked it."

"Me too."

"So, can I tie you up next time?"

Joel snorts. "We'll see. Might need at least a week to recover from this one."

"We'll see," you agree, smirking. "We will see."

[call-of-ishmael]

The Last Ishmael OCD Post

One of my first times that i dabbled into character analysis was about Ishmael's OCD, people like that post but i really feel i could have done better

Canto V was my last major chapter i was willing to read. As i put more distance between me and the story, i want one final farewell in the form of finally fixing up my analysis

PART I: THE META-TEXTUAL

Before i delve into the writing itself, here is some pointers the story gives to her OCD in the form of flavor text and descriptions.

Firstly we have her Bio

This is easy to miss as its just a tiny blurb above her whole intro blurb.

Now, "obsessive compulsive neurosis" is a very weird way to phrase it, "obsessive compulsive" is clear enough but "neurosis" is odd, this is not TOO odd though, as "neurotic" used to be how OCD was classified as a disorder.

However if we look at her bio in Korean, the particulars do simply straight up say "OCD" very clearly, you'd need to MTL but this was also confirmed to me by a friend from SK

The sinner bios are biased though, and are written through a very corporate lens, so lets see if there's any other pointers elsewhere

Her base EGO, Snagharpoon, actually does just that

Her passives name is called "Compulsion" and in its gameplay design its a very interesting way to also point to it

Ishmael is a very all or nothing person, you do it well or you don't do it at all, and this is reflected on how this passive aids you to play

This passive is excellent for boosting the consistency of playing by only going for "Favored" or "Dominating" clashes, while punishing you for taking chances on clashes you MIGHT win

Base ID Ishmael is also a unit with all single coins, rolling tails puts her in a very unfavorable position so this also adds an extra safety net on top. Worth noting being all single coins is also a high risk high reward type of play style.

Finally we see two more pointers id like to note, both from Canto V

The Compulsive`s Knot, an ego gift themed after a naval rope, one of many in the dungeon all alluding to her struggles.

Most obviously though

Her exclusive status effect, Compulsion. This is in direct reference to her EGO passive, providing an attack boost at the same time it provides a drawback in the form of low SP.

We are gonna talk a bit more about this passive since it ties into another gameplay oriented way to point towards her OCD

During the story dungeon we have an event where a noise is heard, you are given two choices, check, gain SP, don't check, lose SP.

Compulsive checking is probably the most well known (to the conditions detriment we will talk about it later) hallmark of OCD

Notably, this doesn't aid Ishmael, while checking can avoid the combat encounter, not checking only has a chance of triggering it, and most interestingly, her SP will always start at -25 during combat encounters. Meaning the temporary boost in her sanity will just get reset next battle, should you decide to check. Checking wont satisfy her anxiety for more than a brief moment.

Lastly the most obvious ones are all the references to Obsession. These are so abundant i feel if you are familiar with the Canto its redundant to have them, i wanted to draw more attention to the allusions to compulsion, as they are less common.

PART II: BEFORE THE STORM

Even since before her own Canto, we can see Ishmael's ruminating and anxious tendencies pop up during previous chapters, which for OCD is important to explore as OCD is an anxious and ruminating disorder.

So lets talk a little bit about OCD! Its a disorder characterized by repetitive and constant intrusive urges to perform a task or a thought (lets keep this in mind for later)

These thoughts or actions are used to try to relieve stress from an anxiety inducing thought or situation. The most common example is OCD exacerbating germ phobia, and causing people who have it to wash their hands in excess.

While OCD is usually described as "irrational thoughts" i feel that's a pretty limited way to view it in my own experience with it. OCD compulsions and thoughts can be informed by very real worries, the worry of getting sick, of making the wrong moral choices, of hurting others. Being clean is a normal and a good practice to stave off getting sick, its the frequency and intensity that turns it maladaptive, OCD turns your own lived fears and traumas against you, and those might very well be real things to worry about, which makes dealing with it very hard.

Enough of that off to the writing!

Lets start with Canto II

This is the first example of her constant need for a lack of ambiguity, previous to this we see her complain about the treatment the sinners are receiving from Effie and Saude, skeptical of the whole deal.

Until shes shown the plans, they are so well crafted shes able to anchor to that and calm down.

This by itself is not really much other than being very detail oriented, lets look a bit further into the chapter

Here we see that aspect elaborated upon more, this moment is framed as a very important one between Dante and Ishmael in their dynamic later on, Ishmael is incredibly upset at the plan having fallen apart so quickly, while yes this is not unreasonable to be upset at, her anger is remarked on by Dante and Gregor as very intense and unusual. This in my opinion is a minor but clear indication her need for planning and considering every option is due to a deep anxiety, but don't take it from me, lets look at Canto III

Here we are told pretty explicitly, Ishmael moving quickly and asking lots of questions is something Dante has noted as an anxious habit.

And here we have more elaboration on what exactly that moment at the Casino meant for Ishmael, it was enough anger and disappointment she has stopped expecting Dante to perform well and instead taken it upon herself to see things go according to plan, this is VERY important to her.

And her worries, are repetitive enough to annoy others, and to be remarked upon by Dante.

This is perhaps the more notable chain of events to point out previous to her chapters aside from 4.5, as it helps contextualize all her usual ways of acting in a more complete light, showing a lot of this is driven by a deep anxiety

And this all makes S.E.A all the more interesting as it pays off on this.

Something i quite enjoy about Limbus is how it re-contextualizes things characters have previously done and said. And the events of S.E.A and Canto V bring a lot of interesting stuff to the table

Lets get cracking with this chapter

In general shes extremely confrontational, and tense, more than usual

But its her anxious outbursts i wanna focus on, what she puts

emphasis on.

This chapter is so crucial in this whole analysis. We see some behaviors way more clearly now, firstly we see her emphasize her need to be absolutely 100% prepared for this, no ambiguity no risks she wants certainty.

But we see something even more clearly and that's her ruminating behaviors, shes brought up things like this to a smaller extent before like commenting on a lot of aspects but here we see in full display her inner world become externalized, shes started voicing worries shes never voiced before can Dante turn them back always? What if Dante dies? What if the sinners get eaten can that be turned back?

And these don't all get brought up immediately, she mentions them in different conversations, pointing to the fact shes constantly going over the subject in her head with no pause, and she gets frustrated when she cannot work on these worries when she cant do anything to quell the anxiety.

And the last part, when Dante finds her so fixated in her planning its impossible to even talk to her. She has to perform some action do something to stave off the disaster she can see coming in her head

As someone with OCD inevitably i have to mention the personal component that drew me to analyze this was how real this feels to when you spiral

A lot of the times OCD is explained as the compulsions being something you do cause you feel its a sort of ritual to stave off disaster. Its in this way i see it reflected in this moment.

As we see with Heathcliff acting as her foil, he points out her worrying is really not doing much other than just her talking and talking, and by the state shes in when Dante checks in on her, aimless not even paying attention to anything else we see the main objective of the planning really isn't practical as much as a compulsive coping mechanism.

She has to do something

PART III: INTO THE DARK

Lots to cover and honestly i will make a companion post to this with all the examples, so for this section i wanna cover some highlights instead, as well as a general discussion of the tone.

The way this chapter is structured is very interesting, its really reflective of the mental state of Ishmael. The chapter feels really aimless, they wander around not really ever finding what they need, which drives Ishmael more and more tense and frustrate

Its a good continuation to how we see her by the end of S.E.A fixated on one goal one thing

As previously stated shes inflicted with a constant special and unique to her status effect called "Compulsion" as covered in Part I

Her behavior is also reflective of this

For a good part of the first third of the chapter shes in her room, the whole time whetting her harpoon, nonstop

However you might notice compulsion is not as present as obsession, and compulsion is also important to OCD its in the acronym! And i have seen others point to it too

However id like you to remember, in the post earlier i said thoughts can fit into OCD, compulsions can be mental and sometimes almost exclusively or mostly mental. Its even in the DSM noted that for diagnosis the compulsions to count you for a diagnosis can be mental in nature

Its in this aspect that i feel Ishmael shines a lot

In general OCD in media is lacking in representation and is often a trait given to assholes or villains

The normal conception of OCD in movies or TV is of neat freaks or control freaks, Compulsion is usually heavily emphasized when it isn't the whole picture

Often ignored though is the aspect of Obsession, some people can have Purely Obsessional OCD (Pure O), this isn't a formal diagnosis or term but its colloquially used by people who have it. Its a bit of a misnomer, as compulsions are present but internalized as mental rituals or rumination

Usually its harder to diagnose, its harder to treat as there's no apparent compulsions others can see, and the people having it seem pretty high functioning to the people around them.

This can be noticed though in people avoiding certain subjects, avoidant behaviors can be the clearest external behavior.

I personally read Ishmael as having more mental compulsions, the way she tends to be a more ruminating and anxious character than outwardly compulsive

During S.E.A and Canto V we see outward compulsions more but from the examples from previous Cantos we can see that's not her usual and she operates more on anxious overthinking most of the time.

However another aspect that ties into mental compulsions is in the previously mentioned avoidant behaviors, we see her isolate and try to stave of having to deal with her worries in both S.E.A and the beginning of Canto V when shes in her room, in both cases doing some excessive preparation in a compulsive way.

CLOSING THOUGHTS

As previously stated Canto V deserves its own companion post, and ill work on that later, i feel this encapsulates what i wanted to say well enough.

I wanted to discuss the previous signs of her behaviors that make me certain her OCD is an intended textual read, and in my opinion a well executed one

Canto V was hard to read as it felt very real and very familiar to the worst times i have had due to my OCD.

Shes a character that despite my distaste i have developed for the franchise, it will never stop meaning a lot to me same as her chapter will always be a piece of storytelling that affected me deeply in ways others haven't

To close i want to leave off what i feel encapsulates the feeling pretty well, in my favorite moment with the membrane consuming her as a metaphor for letting fear, anger, obsessions and compulsions cloud your mind until you forget why you were even there

To you, dear reader, Bon Voyage

[animehouse-moe]

Chainsaw Man Chapter 145: Kumbaya

Wow, a whole lot of questions have arisen from this chapter. Yoshida appears, Asa makes a move, the prophecy creeps ever forward as the Chainsaw Man church is captured. Fujimoto can make a lot happen in a chapter when they really want to.

So, Mr. Public Safety Devil Hunter here says two interesting things to open up this chapter. He talks about wanting War to mutually destroy Chainsaw Man, and he alludes to Chainsaw Man being God. Yeah, capital G there.

So, what do they mean? Clearly, Public Safety (through the Future Devil) became aware of the Nostradamus Prophecy a while back, and have understood that Denji has a key role to play in it. Fami corroborates this theory as she tries to weaken him.

And the second image. Well, that one's sort of obvious. Chainsaw is revered as a Devil unlike any other, the only ones we've not seen it conquer is the primal devils. Even then, he got pretty close with the Falling Devil.

Anyways, one of the big reveals of the chapter: the Justice Devil.

When you look at its design language, you see nothing of the fiendish appearances from previous instances of "justice devil" contracts. So what could be going on here?

There's a few ideas, but first its important to gather up the facts.

Firstly, the corpse of the Justice Devil was beneath the Chainsaw Man church. Secondly, Fami at the minimum had control of the Falling Devil. Third, the Justice Devil and Falling Devil appeared at sunset and the Falling Devil returned at sunrise. Fourth, the devil that has formed contracts with people throughout the story is claimed to not be the Justice Devil.

So, my first theory. The Justice Devil actually did form contracts with the individuals in question. However, these contracts weren't formed on Earth. Devils "forget" about Hell, but are a new iteration of themselves each time they appear on Earth. The "them" that exists in hell is the original, so what would happen if someone formed a contract with a devil in hell? It's not the most likely, as Fujimoto probably hasn't mislead readers with the identity of this Devil, but you never know.

The more likely theory though is that the Devil that formed a contract with these individuals under the guise of the Justice Devil, is the same one that gave Fakesaw Man his abilities. But what could it mean, is the real question. Does this unnamed Devil impart the abilities and nature of "Justice" onto individuals in how each person understands it? The class president and the Chainsaw Man church believer both sport at least a little similarity in design language with the idea of multiple heads, which makes sense given the selfish nature of each. Yuko's appearance though is largely different from theirs, which is once more understandable considering the difference in reasoning.

So, what could this devil that's been masquerading as Justice be? I think the one that comes to mind the quickest is "Desire", or something similar. The Devil requires the ability to fulfill the interests or needs of the individual, and to do so in a very direct way. Yeah, we've seen a lot of this "Justice" in Part 2, but we should remember that in part 1 almost all the devil contracts out there did not do anything to change the appearances of the individuals forming the contracts. The only example off the top of my head is the Zombie Devil.

But going further than that is the question of how Fami got this Devil on their side, and even further why she's playing so many angles at once. Betting on "both sides" she aims to kill Asa and Yoru, but also empower them through the Chainsaw Man church? There's a very long game going on here with Fami and the Nostradamus Prophecy, and I'm very very curious to see how it all ends up going down.

Anyways, here's another Asa door moment. Couldn't be a CSM protagonist without them.

Following this, two very big things happen. The first is the sun goes down. Drawing attention to this is signaling that another devil will appear. Whether it's a primal devil or not, or even potentially the revival of the Justice Devil I've no idea, but a threat looms on the horizon.

This idea begs the question of why the weapons were trying to create a massacre at the amusement park today though. It seems probable that their entire goal was to have a new devil appear come sunset (considering Barem's reaction), so it makes me wonder why they would try to do something so pointless.

The second though, is Asa's arm getting cut off. This is really big for two reasons. One, badass Yoshida in action looking like a young (and hot) Kishibe.

Secondly, and more importantly, it's the first time Asa's been severely injured since Yoru revived her. What are the mechanisms for regeneration and healing with Asa? How much can she heal, if it all? Is regeneration entirely on Yoru, does she have to be in control of the body to heal?

There's a lot of questions with this piece, because unlike all the other hybrids that have a "starter" for their transformation, Asa's is implicit. There's nothing that "kickstarts" her hybrid form, simply because she doesn't have one. Does that mean that she'd heal closer to how a Fiend might? That is, the act of transformation alone cannot regenerate or heal like it does for Denji?

I'm very very curious to see what happens here, because oddly enough this is a piece that can massively affect how we view exactly what Asa and Yoru are.

We're quickly barreling towards the date of July 18, 1999, the date of the last lunar eclipse of the 20th century, and with chapters like these we're piling on all sorts of curious odds and ends that will undoubtedly play a role in this impending night of terror. Really can't wait to see what Fujimoto does with it next.

[annwayne]

How the Batch Reacts to Omega Dating

I saw a post that put me off so bad I’m writing my own headcanon to offset it.

SFW, child dating (canon age or older in mind while writing), alluding to heart break and comfort over said heart break, parent & child relationships, mentions of "the talk" from a parental figure to a child figure, education on consent, education in self defense (thus alluding to, but not mentioning, possible dangers of dating)

As usual, if you enjoy please let me know! Reblogs, likes, and replies are welcome!

Hunter

He’s wary, honestly all of them are wary, but they also know Omega, knows what they have all taught her. Hunter trusts her. At most, he’s worried about an imperial trap. So he does his due diligence to see if there’s anyway this other kid is connected to the Empire. Usually, everything checks out. He waits up until Omega gets home. Even though he's been watching over Omega with his brothers for years by this point, he still gets plenty anxious when she's away. So Echo joins in on waiting for Omega. Conversation with Echo is the only thing that makes time pass for Hunter.

Crosshair

Crosshair helps Omega with her outfits and hair. I headcanon Crosshair as being really into fashion, but not so much for himself, rather he likes to help other people look their best. So he helps Omega pick outfits, does her hair, and gives any other stylistic advice if she asks for it. Crosshair has given Omega one talk about consent, and during that conversation he explained the importance of a yes, over the lack of a no.

Tech

Tech helps Omega plan dates, when she wants to plan them. He will inform her of weather conditions, optimal food locations based on holonet reviews, and any unique phenomenon that would be beautiful to watch with a date. (Little magical things like bio-luminescence, shooting stars, dancing fire flies-that stuff.) Tech has also given Omega a talk, but this one related to sexual anatomy, STD's, and the use of condoms/other safety material for sexual intercourse. He then gave Omega a packet of each kind of condom he explained.

Wrecker

Wrecker gives Omega 'material' to use on the date. Pick up lines, jokes, and riddles. Things like that. He'll also tell Omega about various food spots to try out-though all the places he's been, they've been together so it's more a reminder than new information. When her date comes to pick Omega up, either Wrecker, Echo, or both are there to wave them off. Omega knows how to fight, and has been fighting opponents much bigger than herself for awhile by this point, but Wrecker still goes out of his way to learn how to teach self defense. He includes it in with her regular training after he feels confident enough in the material to teach it.

Echo

Like mentioned above, Echo tries his best to be at the door when Omega leaves with her date. He also tends to stay up with Hunter, though, unlike Hunter, he can read, adjust his prosthetics, or clean them while waiting (Hunter kind of just waits and paces occasionally.) Echo help's Hunter pass the time by chatting. When Omega comes home, Echo is the one she goes to to tell about the date first. He's her enthusiastic support, and shoulder to cry on if needed. Echo will always remind Omega what she's worth, and will always make sure she knows it. (All of them do this to a degree, Echo just gets the chance to do it the most and first.)

[greatcheshire]

i think you've alluded a few times to the weird food situation you had in your upbringing, so i was wondering if you ever talked at length about that? if not, would you be comfortable saying like, what the heck was up with it? if not thats totally fine, i know it's probably a tough subject, but i will admit i am intrigued.

I believe I've talked about it before, but probably through scattered posts and what not, so I don't mind explaining it! If anything just so I have something to link to when people ask lol

CW: abuse I guess? Idk if this counts for abuse or not but just for safety's sake

Basically I wasn't really exposed to a lot of food as a young child. Like I was a picky eater at a young age, which isn't that unique, but my mom wouldn't pressure me to step out of my comfort zone at all and try anything else (vegetables, bread, most food) and instead resort to whatever I already liked. By the time I was five, this had evolved into my mom rarely, if ever, cooking anything for me and my sister, with her often just getting me fast food nuggets or me having to cook whatever a five year old could easily make and would want to make (aka a lot of microwave pizzas, dinosaur nuggets, hot dogs, and mozzarella sticks. She would give me Twinkies for breakfast, though, as they were "a source of bread so they're healthy"). As a result of this, even if I did want to try new foods, I was often unable to, as they weren't in the house or not something I could easily prep or understand myself.

This evolved once again around the time I was in middle school when my mom had me placed on a very restrictive diet in order to present a legal case for the court regarding my custody, treatment, and physical and mental health. She worked with my doctor at the time to put me on a diet where the only restriction was I couldn't eat anything over 7% saturated fat, which quickly showed to be a flawed system, as it meant I could eat as many cookies as I wanted but wasn't allowed a single yogurt cup. As part of this diet, my mom basically refused to buy any food for me that wasn't cinnamon rolls or Ritz crackers dipped in ranch dressing. So for a few years, so long as I was at my mom's, I was eating either cinnamon rolls or Ritz with ranch for three meals a day, minus the days I could sneak out and secretly use money to buy myself lunch somewhere. I remember one time she had me take a glucose test (where you have to fast and then get your blood drawn every hour for, like, 8 hours) and refused to get me anything real to eat afterwards so I chugged a few Vitamin Waters and ate Ritz crackers with ranch dressing in the hopes that it would help the woozy feeling that comes with having so much blood drawn after fasting.

When I was 14 my mom died and I was now living with my dad full time and at this point my palate began to expand, mainly due to my stepmom encouraging/pressuring me to try things that weren't just chicken tenders, cheese sticks, hot dogs, or pizza. However, I wasn't fully out of the clear yet, as my dad is also a picky, meat and potatoes kinda guy. So while I was trying more and more foods, it was a lot of stuff like pork chops or ribs or brisket or steak. Still good things to try! But not a lot of variety, especially for a family that doesn't eat non-American foods except for Taco Bell and doesn't keep fruits or vegetables in the house. Furthermore, I also had the point where despite being a teenager, being kept away from so much food for so long made me sort of averse to even breaking that barrier. Why try bread at this point when I'm 15 and know that I don't like it? What if I have it and it's gross? What if I finally do try lettuce and it makes me sick? Even when I did try things, a lot of it tasted so differently from what my tastebuds were used to that it was hard to learn to actually like it. This is something I still struggle with, to be honest: how to determine if I actually don't like the taste of something or if's just a new taste I've never experienced before.

It would kinda stay stagnant like this until I was 19, just finishing up my first year in college and about to go into my second. And as we all know, college is the time for discovery and experimentation, which in this case meant trying bread. I don't know why I started branching out into more foods then. I think I had just gotten so tired of eating the same thing every day, especially now that I was on my own in a dorm, that I wanted to at least try some new things, especially if I had a dining hall I could just grab things from. I still didn't explore THAT much, if I'm being honest with myself, but from that point on, at least I started to eat bread and burgers and sandwiches and wasn't totally adverse to the idea anymore.

My food exploration kinda slowed down in my later years in college, mainly because I didn't have the dining hall plan anymore and was low on cash and, well, when you have so little money, you're going to stick with safe food choices because if you spend $10 on a new dish and you hate it, well, guess you're out of dinner money now. But thankfully this year, through friends and travel and my own volition, I've started trying more and more things, trying to adapt to a "I'll try whatever" mentality (unless it has nuts in it because wow I hate nuts so much). It took a while, and I'm still learning and dealing with things, but I've come to realize that I don't need to fear food anymore, and now that I have my own place with my own income, I can purchase and try whatever I want to and don't have to worry about any outside pressure one way or the other. It's been a struggle. But it's getting better.

I hope that clears things up! I'm sure there's probably still questions and maybe this doesn't make sense at all but I hope fills in some gaps, at the very least.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest

Summary: Din reveals something he's suspected

A/N: Hello lovelies,

I apologize for not posting yesterday. So it looks like there is only one chapter left to The Crestworld part of Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest. Then the story will enter a brief hiatus, while I focus on other stories and more parts for OUTRC. Thank you all for following.

Love oo

Due to the past history of the OC there will be discussions alluding to past domestic abuse, please note that as it could be a trigger for some.

Warnings: Awkward conversations and question, banter, confronting a suspected thought, memories. If I miss any warnings, please let me know.

AO3 Link |   Words: 1,138 |   Previous -> Next

Main Master List   |  Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest

THE CRESTWORLD

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Listening to Din describe Camilla, made her sound special and other worldly, it made me wonder if maybe Din was embellishing a little. However, that didn’t matter really, it was his wife, he could embellish all he wanted for her memory. 

Yet when he finished the air in the truck was heavy, almost as though his sorrow and grief came back to the forefront. I wanted to make him laugh and smile again. 

“She sounds amazing, especially since it truly takes a very special person to put up with you” I smirked looking over at him, as he narrowed his eyes, “I’m kidding. Seriously, though she sounds wonderful. I wish I got to know her, she seems like someone I would’ve wanted to be friends with.”

He hummed in agreement, “She was. She was really wonderful, and as much as I don’t want to say this, she would’ve wanted to be friends with you too.”

“That would’ve been fun for you.”

“Tell me about it.” He grumbled.

“It’s nice to know Grogu inherited a lot from her, it’s like she’s still here in a way. After all, he doesn’t ever seem to have a bad day, plus he has the cutest smile and laugh.”

Din chuckled “Yeah, he did. I’m grateful I have him, it definitely makes me feel like she’s still around somewhat.”

I could understand that, I wish I could talk about my parents, my siblings, I miss all of them, for their safety and for mine, I can’t talk about them with anyone, but that doesn’t prevent me from being there for either of them. Maybe, I can do that to honour Camilla, to help look after her family, who she clearly loved dearly.

“Din, you know if you ever want to talk about her I’ll always offer a listening ear. Sometimes sharing stories about the ones we love keeps them alive in our memories.”

He simply nodded as his hand tightened on the steering wheel, he pulled into Boba’s ranch in one smooth motion, putting the car in park, “Thanks, that’s the first time in a long time I was able to talk about her and not feel completely shattered afterwards. It means a lot.”

“You’re welcome.”

Din’s eyes locked with mine as we sat in the truck. I could see why Camilla and him made sense, he had the rough exterior, grumpy, short tempered, but she was sweet and kind, loving and patient. She was his better half, two sides of the same coin. 

Plus, they were both very attractive people, it was evident how much they loved and cared for each other in the pictures Din had around the house. Even though she’d been gone for a number of years, the love they both felt was still very evident in the house.

Made me wonder if that would’ve been my life, if I … if I hadn’t married my ex. Granted, however, there’d been no one in my life that made my heart flutter when I was younger. 

Why couldn’t I’ve had that kind of warm and loving relationship? 

Why couldn’t I have met someone who’d look after me, care for me, and protect me?

Why did I have to marry … 

My eyes focused on the fence in front of us as flashes of my past played before my eyes, the pain, the trauma, the tears, the countless nights that I wished I hadn’t been forced into that marriage.

“Ann?” 

Din tapped her shoulder, pulling her out of whatever was going through her mind. He didn’t have to be a psychologist to know she’d gone through a pretty rough time, that much was evident with how she reacted to certain situations.

“You okay?”

I nodded, closing my eyes, pushing away the memories, “Yeah, sorry. My mind wandered.”

“Hey, I want you to know, if you ever need to talk, I’ll listen too.” 

In that moment, he couldn’t help notice how her deadened eyes, her tightened shoulders, the way her fists clenched against her thighs, she looked as though she was holding the weight of the entire galaxy. 

He let out a weighted sigh, he was going to take a chance to tell her this, because … well it was the right thing to do. 

“Ann, I know something happened in your past.” 

Her eyes shot wide open as her head swivelled to look at him in one quick and determined move, he held his hand up to reassure her, “I want to make it clear, no one said anything nor did I ask anything. Alright?” 

She didn’t really respond, simply keeping her eyes locked on him, until she let out the slightest sigh, “I don’t know anything about what happened to you, but I can guess, from what I picked up on over the past few weeks. Like the way you clocked everyone in that dinner, the way you picked the seat that gave you the most coverage, even though I took the seat with my back to the wall, you tried your best to stay low and out of sight. Not to mention, the way you make sure your door is locked when you go to bed, or the way you clean up after yourself, always keeping things tidy, like you don’t want to leave an imprint of yourself anywhere in case you have to leave in a hurry.”

He watched as tears welled up in her eyes, he didn’t want her to freak out, but he wanted her to know she could trust him, that he’d be there to listen, to help her if she needed, “You’re running from someone, aren’t you?”

I couldn’t find the words, no matter how many times I swallowed, or blinked, or looked around for a sign that it was okay to open up, to trust him. As much as I wanted to answer, the word ‘yes’ just wouldn’t escape my mouth. I couldn’t even nod in agreement. 

“It’s okay” he nodded as a solemn smile graced his lips, “I figured as much. How bad?”

My eyes dragged down slowly, as I focused on my hands, I slowly breathed in and out, taking one final swallow to calm my nerves. However, despite how hard I tried to quell my fear,  my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I gripped them harder against each other, when did they start to do that? 

“Bad” was all I could muster, as I kept focusing on something other than the questions he was asking. 

“How long?” Din’s voice was soft, solemn and strong. Letting her know it was all up to her to answer the question, she may not have wanted him to know. 

“Long enough”

“Hence the fake name.” 

I looked into his eyes, shock ringing through them; I couldn’t believe he’d known my name was fake this whole time.

AO3 Link |   Words: 1,138 |   Previous -> Next

Main Master List   |  Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest

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[jotun-philosopher]

Good Omens/The Scarlet Pimpernel parallels (and what they might mean for s3)

We seek him here, we seek him there Those Frenchies seek him everywhere Is he in Heaven? Is he in Hell? That demmed elusive Pimpernel!

Some time back, Neil Gaiman answered an ask about Good Omens/Scarlet Pimpernel parallels in the French Revolution scene in s1e3 and whether they were intentional -- I can't find the post itself because tumblr's search function is stupidly broken (I'm starting to think I might have hallucinated it...), but I clearly recall that the reply was, "If anyone in Good Omens parallels Sir Percy Blakeney, it's Aziraphale." (or words to that effect)

Now, Neil Gaiman is an absolute master at answering questions in a way that seems all fine at first, but then you realise he hasn't really answered the question at all, in a way that forces you to think about the subject for yourself -- and the reply to which I allude above is a classic of the genre! It certainly got me very curious about the original novel (my only prior encounter with the story having been a production of the musical at the Minack in 2007), and once I got to read it for myself, the ideas they were a-flowin' ^_^ I have Thoughts about how all this might play into Season 3...

Spoilers for The Scarlet Pimpernel below the cut -- the novel might be over 100 years old, but that doesn't mean I can assume that everyone's going to be familiar with it (read it for free at Project Gutenberg here, and become one of today's lucky 10,000!). Also be aware of some minor spoilers for the Sandman arc 'The Kindly Ones'.

To start with, if we take at face value Neil's assertion that Aziraphale parallels Sir Percy Blakeney (who, like Azzy, conceals a deep well of steely badassery and daring ingenuity under outward foppishness -- though with Sir Percy it's much more of a studied and deliberate facade), then it seems fairly reasonable to assume that Crowley roughly parallels Marguerite Blakeney (nee St-Just) and the Metatrash (may he tread on Lego and d4s for all eternity) parallels that accredited agent of the Revolutionary government, Monsieur Shovellin' Chauvelin.

As a recap, the basic plot of The Scarlet Pimpernel runs thus:

The French Revolution is a-raging and many sacres aristos are having fatal meetings with Madame Guillotine, but many more are being rescued in daring and inexplicable ways by a mysterious individual whose calling-card is the image of a small red flower -- a scarlet pimpernel; meanwhile, to the general bewilderment of High Society, Marguerite St-Just (widely considered the most intelligent woman in Europe) has married the notoriously brainless fop Sir Percy Blakeney.

There is a certain degree of coldness and emotional estrangement between them, because Marguerite was tangentially involved in getting the Marquis de Saint-Cyr and his family guillotined (though the circumstances are very complex and she didn't actually mean for Saint-Cyr to die). Percy and Marguerite do still love each other, but ferocious stiff-necked pride on both sides prevents them from actually talking things out.

Chaubertin Chauvelin, suspecting that his bête noir, the Scarlet Pimpernel, is part of English high society, blackmails Marguerite into finding information on that mysterious Pimpernel for him by threatening her beloved brother's safety.

Marguerite caves and does so, but instantly regrets it. She regrets it even harder when she finally connects the dots that her foppish, foolish husband is the daring and ingenious Pimpernel.

Sir Percy having personally gone to France to rescue the Comte de Tournay, Marguerite makes a mad dash to warn her beloved husband that Shoehorn Chauvelin has rumbled him.

Without spoiling the entire ending of the novel: there is rescuing, communication, relinquishment of pride, professions of love, Chamberpot Chauvelin being so distracted by Marguerite at a crucial moment that Sir Percy is able to pull his master-stroke, with Chauvelin being defeated and (though it happens off-page) humiliated!

Looking at this summary, it seems to map eerily well onto the Final Fifteen, with the pride and blackmail and mutually less-than-perfect communication! That said, I'm personally getting the vibe that Aziraphale and Crowley are trading roles there somewhat, with Azzy being more Marguerite and Crowley being more of a Sir Percy-type. Also, Crowley is already well aware that his angel is very much the 'daring and ingenious badass' type when it comes to it :D

But what does it all mean for S3? Going from what I've said so far, my best guess is this: Aziraphale (Sir Percy) is carrying out his daring schemes of subversion against Heaven (France) and the Second Coming (the Revolution), while Crowley (Marguerite) is (at least initially) very down-in-the-dumps about their estrangement and the Metatron (Chauvelin) is keeping up pressure on Azzy to be meek and complaint by threatening Crowley. Crowley (once he gets past the initial gloom) starts making plans of his own, in close temporal proximity to his joining the dots about Aziraphale's plans. Aziraphale likewise manages to put two and two together regarding what his wily ol' serpent is up to, but one of them accidentally tips off the Metatron and co., realises it and desperately tries to warn/rescue the other (trading off or simultaneously filling both Sir Percy and Marguerite roles, per previous paragraph). This very desperation acts as a spanner in the works for Metatron and his plans for the Second Coming, drawing his focus to one of the Ineffable Husbands at a critical moment and allowing the other to complete their world/true-love-saving plans. The threat conclusively defeated, the Ineffables FINALLY FRICKIN' TALK THINGS OUT, have the proper wedding that they deserve and retire to that South Downs cottage to live happily ever after <3

Bonus points if another key factor in the Metatron's downfall is his underlings, like Chauvelin's, having been terrified into obeying orders to the letter rather than thinking independently or showing initiative! Given what we've seen of Heaven and its authoritarian abusiveness so far, this is a very distinct possibility...

One incident in Scarlet Pimpernel that is sadly unlikely to have a direct parallel in S3 is the glorious scene where Sir Percy exploits Chauvelin's (by this point well-established) snuff habit to pull off what is quite possibly the most badass pepper-sneeze prank ever put to paper. It is very possible, though, that something like it will happen as payoff for the Nazi Zombie Flesh-Eaters minisode establishing that Aziraphale can pull off sleight-of-hand PERFECTLY when it really counts :D

Thank you for reading this far! At this point, I'd like to take a wild left turn and have a little jaunt into increasingly wild extrapolation/rambling, starting with the subject of floriography, or the language of flowers. This was a craze that exploded in popularity in England during the 19th Century, assigning all sorts of meanings to all sorts of plants. The real-life pimpernel flower was assigned the meaning of 'change' or 'rendezvous/appointment/assignation' -- very appropriate for the Ineffable Husbands, since so much of their relationship has been conducted through clandestine appointments and they've both been through much change (both internal and external), with yet more change in their futures. I would say it'd be cool to see actual pimpernel flowers among the floral arrangements for the Ineffable Wedding, but I just checked the Wikipedia article and it turns out that pimpernels are interestingly poisonous... I doubt Baroness Orczy thought about that when picking floral symbolism XD

The pimpernel flower being associated with 'change' also reminds me of something Neil Gaiman said about Sandman, that the plot can be summed up as 'The King of Dreams must change or die, and he makes his choice.' At the climax of the penultimate arc of the comic, 'The Kindly Ones', Morpheus (who's been the central character of the whole comic thus far) finds himself unable to change to the degree he needs to, so he chooses to die so that another aspect of Dream of the Endless can come forth. I get the feeling that Good Omens might be in some way exploring the other branch of that choice, seeing what it might mean to opt for change rather than death. Or maybe the same 'death over change' branch as well, since it's so clear that the toxic messes of Heaven and Hell and the whole fucked-up system are too deeply entrenched for anything else?

Of course, none of this excludes or is incompatible with the Jane Austen parallels (particularly with Persuasion, as documented by other meta writers) that came up in s2 -- though to be honest, the very fact that they did appear in s2 means they're more likely to appear in s3, or at least more likely to be obvious/overt. That said, none of us can know the Mind of Gaiman, so we must perforce follow the Eleventh Commandment -- Wait And See!

It kinda feels like we're in the position of Job here (keep the faith and get back double what we lost), except with a MUCH more benevolent deity in charge of the whole shebang...

[yoongisugaagust]

HOME: The Beginning

•Summary: Min Yoongi meets his forever.

“Sara!” You called from your bedroom as soon as you heard your best friend walk into the apartment. You’ve spent nearly two hours trying to choose a suitable outfit for spontaneous plans tonight.

“What?” She popped her head in to see clothes strewn all over. It’s been about two months since you two moved to Seoul which led you to adventuring through the city earlier in the day. You bumped into a guy who introduced himself to you as Seokjin, literally bumped into each other sending the coffee in your hands to hit the ground splattering around your and his shoes. As compensation, he offered to show you around the area pointing out the restaurants and cafes worthy of trying. He also extended an invite to you and your best friend to go over to meet him and his roommates for a bbq. You would’ve declined the offer but you felt nothing but safety and comfort from him so you agreed.

“Help me choose,” you pleaded with her and she got to work with a chuckle. Having a fashion designer as a best friend always came in handy even though she assured you you didn’t need help with how to dress. It took a lot more enthusiasm and effort to get her to agree to be your date to the dinner.

“Come in, come in,” Seokjin urged you two. He met you at the door and escorted you to the backyard. Once you stepped foot out of the door, there were about ten faces looking in your direction. A few people stood beside the outdoor bar, some gathered around the fireplace.

“This is my roommate Yoongi and my cousin Namjoon,” he introduced you and Sara. The shorter man offered the smallest smile to her and finally looked over in your direction. “And over here,” Jin flagged over another man. “This is Hoseok.”

“Just call me Hobi,” he flashed a smile. “I have to steal Namjoon. The skewers are ready if you two are hungry.” Both men waved goodbye. The night went on with Jin introducing you to every attendee with hints of Jin trying his best to flirt with Sara. For about the hundredth time she had to remind him that she was already seeing someone but did agree that Seokjin was a very handsome man.

“He’s been glancing over to you all night,” Sara spoke low to you. Her sight went over to the bar where Yoongi stood. “Go talk to him,” she nudged.

“And leave you unsupervised? Nope.” You laughed.

“I may flirt a little but I am a faithful woman,” she laughed back. “He’s cute and he seems to think you are too.”

“He’s..intimidating. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s wondering why were here.”

“Hey Seokjin?” Sara asked out loud. “Do you think Y/n should get us more drinks?” She motioned to the bar where Yoongi was still standing all alone. Jin picked up on what she was alluding to and heftily agreed. “Yeah you know what. Yoongi makes a special drink for me. Can you go over there and ask him to make it for me?” Sara and Jin looked waited for you to get up and make your way over.

You walked over begrudgingly almost coming to a complete stop when you see Yoongi start to walk over towards you. Your breathing might’ve stopped for a second or two before it became clear that he was actually planning on walking past you.

“Yoongi?” You asked and he stopped right next to you. The questioning look on his face pressured you into speaking to him again. “Jin said you make the drinks he really likes and asked me to ask you to..make it?” Yoongi’s gaze then went straight to Jin who sported a knowing look.

“You know he doesn’t really want a drink, right?” Yoongi spoke up after adding ice to the cup first.

“I’m very aware,” you admitted. A smile actually appeared on your face. “I’m sorry if that makes you feel awkward because I definitely am.”

“Surprisingly, it doesn’t.” Yoongi added soju to the cup then looked around in the mini fridge for his mixer. “He’s been telling me all about you since he arrived back home earlier. I knew it was a matter of time before he had us talking.”

Yoongi handed you the cup. “Yogurt soju drink.” You grabbed it and took a sip then eyed the cocktail. “That’s actually pretty good.” Yoongi guided you over to the bench swing set where you talked for a while.

“So you live with Jin? But you were friends with Namjoon first?” Yoongi nodded his head “Mhm. We ran in the same circles in high school, just a bunch of music guys, you know? He invited me to this club with underground rappers that he really wanted to check out. He had high ambitions of becoming a rapper so I went with him and he continued inviting me and we just got along really well. Namjoon moved out here to Seoul with his girlfriend and mentioned he had a cousin that was planning on moving out there too but whoever it was bailed on him. I took Jin up on his free room and it’s been..interesting ever since,” he chuckled. “Namjoon and I wanted to start a rap group and we were introduced to Hoseok. We were signed to this small company..”

“Wait. Signed?” You questioned.

“Yeah..Cypher? You know?” You shook your head. “I don’t know whether to feel disappointed or relieved,” he laughed. “Have you not heard of us? Jin didn’t mention that at all? Or anything about his group?”

You shocked your head continuously feeling speechless.

“Namjoon, Hoseok and I are the idol rap group Cypher. Jin is in an idol pop group along with Jimin, Tae, and Jungkook. The idiots over there putting their hands over the fire,” he motioned to the three standing too close to the bonfire. “They’re the Kosmos. I’m surprised Jin didn’t say anything he’s always talking himself up.”

“Oh no he definitely talked about himself a lot,” you laughed. The drink was starting to get to you as you felt your cheeks warm up. “He’s probably doing that right now we should probably head back.”

“Yeah before he tries to get her to fall in love with him.” Yoongi stood up from the swing. You stood and tried taking a step but your balance was thrown off. Yoongi acted quickly grabbing you by your waist. You grabbed his arms and steadied yourself and almost as soon as you looked up Yoongi’s lips were on yours. Not sure whether it was the alcohol or the little chemistry that lingered but the sparks you felt were enough to have you in a daze.

“Sorry Yoongi-“ he cut you off with another tormentingly slow but passionate kiss.

“I should be sorry but I really liked that,” he whispered. “As much as I would love to continue this somewhere a lot more private, I would like to take you out first. On a date just the two of us.”

[mechanicalinertia]

STMPD Recommends Black Lagoon Fanfiction: LowkeeWB's Apotheosis

In my first Black Lagoon fanfic review for Bullets, I said that some Lagoon fics make you think, make you cry, make you cringe, make you smile. I was thinking of some fairly specific ones when I made that comment.

Many make me cringe, of course. Were one to manifest all Black Lagoon fanfiction as physical material, there would be warehouses of Cool Ex Special Forces Original Character adventures (though there are a handful of good ones in that sub-subgenre by one particular author, I'll get to that) saturating FF.net (not AO3 so much. Different heydays of different sites, if you know what I mean). This annoys me, because rarely (again, that one exception) are these characters interesting or worthy of our time. BGC fics suffered this problem, too, so what the hell. Let's give the Super Cool OC genre a pass for now, and instead talk about a fic that is... Jesus.

I think it might be one of those very rare perfect fanfictions? One of the few that does everything it sets out to do within a reasonable amount of time (75.6K words, only). One which crackles with new, creative ideas that are all laid out one after another without too much bloat between them? One that has actual goddamn themes? Oh. Oh yeah.

In short, Apotheosis is the Black Lagoon fic I wish I knew how to write.

In essence, Apotheosis is about the last days of Roanapur as Rock knows it. Sure, the hypercriminal institution will remain, but the old powers are dying as the history of the late nineties runs its course. The 1997 financial crisis is one little knife in the side of the leviathan; Russia's ailing economy is another; Hong Kong being returned to Chinese control and hurting Triad business there is yet another. The end of history that Hiroe has alluded to Black Lagoon being about is, itself, ending.

Rock knows this. Maybe the rest of Lagoon Company does, too, but none of them want to admit it. A constant theme in this fic is whether or not Rock's addicted to the thrill of poking at the power structures of Roanapur post-Blood Trail, the kind of action he now needs that the Lagoon Company's regular work can't provide.

Anyway, along comes a job, where they ferry a mysterious client heavily implied to be Osama Bin Goddamn Laden to safety. Rock has a strange conversation with the mystery man about the nature of the end of the world, and following it, decides to cash in, handing information over to Eda in her capacity as a CIA operative. Soon, he's working as a double agent for the Agency, even though the powers that be (Chang) know very well who and why. Soon, Revy's in on his weird little plot, too. There's a trip to New York where Revy finally explains who she was to Rock and it's beautifully painful. Honestly, every part of this fic is beautifully painful. Sure, it's not a fic for fight scenes, but it's not about fight scenes. It's, well, it's about Apotheosis. The end of everything.

I wish I had more to say, because this fic has been influencing how I'm writing the quieter parts of Bubblegum Black immensely. It's almost hard to reread because I know it's so good, because I know I can't measure up to it because of the way I write with an eye towards reaching the next goofy fight scene.

But you? You, dear reader, should read the shit out of it. You should have no shame in loving this fic.

[lytters]

3:19pm || b. katsuki

warning(s): explosion, being thrown into a wall, concussion, being impaled, blood, major injury, implied death

the day you confess to bakugo katsuki that you are in love with him is one filled with dust, rain and blood.

it starts off like this: you, on patrol; him, on a mission.

your paths weren’t meant to cross until late at night, where you’ll meet in the agency’s debrief room. you’re meant to have finished that patrol, and he’ll have completed that mission successfully. the two of you will then go for supper at the hidden izakaya where he listens to you share about the little gifts you received from two adorable little girls. you’ll feed him bites of your yakitori, and he’ll fiddle with the rings on your free hand. 

it was never planned for you to be laid out in his lap, vision blurry as his nitroglycerin-covered fingers flutter around your face, never touching. it’s only 3:19pm, not even halfway to the time you’re meant to meet. 

you feel it right before it comes, minute shudders in the ground alluding to the disaster that’s about to arrive. it happens almost too fast, too sudden for you to do anything but throw the little girls who were just talking to you as far away as you could with your quirk, even as the blast that comes from behind throws you forward.

if you hadn’t been distracted, if you had concentrated harder, maybe then you wouldn’t have crashed into the wall and the stray piece of flying rebar would never have made its home in your stomach. if you had paid more attention, maybe then you would have gotten to hold on to your feelings a little longer, to find the right moment to set them free.

instead you find yourself lying on the side of the street, blood pooling beneath your body as civilians run and scream. you wonder if the girls were alright. they had been thrown far enough, but did they have enough sense to run away after? you hope they do, you don’t want them close enough to see the carnage. dust kicks up as more explosions fill your ears, and even as tears cloud your vision, you recognise the signature green that appears.

good, deku is here. deku means that safety will come soon. and where deku goes, so does dynamight. those girls will be safe then. the duo will get them out of here, and take down the villain in no time. everyone will be fine. everyone but you.

you try to push yourself up, and oh, that didn’t feel good. your vision swims and it takes all your concentration and willpower to stay awake. you need to help, somehow. turning your head, you see a group of civilians desperately pushing an overturned car. it blocks a door, and you can barely see the people banging on it, trapped as the fight grows closer to them.

get up. you need to get up and help them or they’ll die. they’ll die and you fail as a hero, fail your duty, fail them. you can’t fail, you promised them you’d be their hero, that they’d be safe no matter what happened. your graduating vows from highschool rings through your mind, muddled and choppy.

“i promi-from this moment, that i will-hero-befitting humani-that no matt-there for anyone-help. i promise to answer every-shield for all.”

you promised. you promised. 

pushing up once more, your vision twists so violently you’re left reeling back into the ground. you barely notice when your head knocks against dust and debris, but you do finally notice the pain radiating from your stomach though. and it spreads, throbbing spiderwebs of agony racing through your veins until you feel like your whole body is on fire.

you were running on adrenaline, you realize. it hurts so much you can barely breathe, gasping for air as black spots fill your sight. 

is this the end? is this how you go out? 

panic fills you; you have so many things you haven’t done yet, you can’t go now. you haven’t been to that fancy french bakery yuuga has been bugging you to try. you haven’t finished the thousand paper cranes for that little boy in the hospital. most importantly, you haven’t told bakugo katsuki that you’re in love with him.

“kat-katsu-ki,” you wheeze. he isn’t near enough to hear you, not when his hands go pop pop pop, and the villain screams, and the civilians cry. you’re not selfish enough to draw him away from the fight either, not when being a hero comes before anything else, even your own selfish desires. you just need to hold on, hold on long enough for him to defeat that villain and find you. long enough to tell him what you’ve been holding in your heart since the third year of highschool.

it’s funny, you muse. how everything seems so terrifyingly insignificant when you’re dying. how could you have been so afraid to tell katsuki how you feel, how you want to be his, and his alone? it’s a silly little thing, fear is. it grips your heart and mind and freezes you from doing what you want most. and yet with the taste of iron in your mouth and mind-numbing pain, fear is nothing but a little pest to be stomped on and discarded. fear, what a pitiful joke against death.

“hey-hey, no!” an almost too hot hand pats your face gently. “no, no nononono, you can’t, fuck- open your eyes!”

you blink blearily, and katsuki, gloriously soot-covered in his uniform, swims in and out of focus.

“kat,” you slur, smiling. “you’re here.”

“what the hell happened?” he snaps, hands patting down your body, looking for any other injuries. “hey, keep your eyes open.”

“‘m tired.” a weak hand comes up to slap his hands away but only manages to fall weakly onto his lap. “c’mere. need’ta tell you.”

he bristles angrily, and that only makes you smile even wider. not by much though, you barely had the strength to stay awake. 

“you can say whatever you want later, we need to get you to the hospital first.” he curses, voice shaking. “how the hell did you get yourself like this, huh? thought you were supposed to be better than me.”

his words, while harsh, lacked the usual bite.

“c’mere.” you use the little energy you have to yank him closer. he bares his teeth in annoyance, but doesn’t struggle as your quirk guides your head to his lap. “kat-”

“can’t it wait? you’re bleeding out here, dumbass.” you can feel his panic, his fear as it seeps through his trembling legs. oh katsuki, if it could wait, if you could wait, then you would have. you’ve waited four years after all. 

“can’t. won’t make it.” you shake your head as he opens his mouth to argue. “listen.”

it’s ridiculous, really. that four years of feelings and pining and dreaming has led to this. of the million scenarios you’ve dreamed up, this was never one of them.

“listen.” his hands shake as they hover over your face. you can smell the familiar nitroglycerin, feel the heat radiating off them. it’s soothing, reminiscent of all the years you’ve spent together, all the memories built on laughter, on smiles, on tears. on love. 

you wheeze as you fight to breathe. you need to say it, say it before you can never again. you don’t want to die with regrets.

“kat-suki, i, i love you.” you choke out between gasps. “i shou’ve sai’, sai’ somethin’ earlier, but, was scared.”

katsuki shudders beneath you, and you feel something wet drop on your face. oh katsuki, your heart aches for him.

“don’t cry,” you try to reach for his face, to wipe his tears. his hands catch yours before it can fall back to the ground, pressing it to his lips, his cheek. 

“‘m not crying, it’s raining.” he protests weakly.

a broken chuckle tears its way through your lungs, dissipating with the blood that passes your lips. true enough, it is raining, and you feel every drop that lands on your body, sliding down your suit and mingling with your blood. but you also feel the hot tears that drip from his eyes, trailing down your hand and spilling into your hair.

“i don’t-i can’t-” he has never sounded more broken than this, and your heart hurts more than your injuries ever could. you never wanted to put him in this situation, never wished for him to hurt like this.

“‘s’okay,” you whisper to him. your hand tightens briefly on his face. “’s’okay, love you.”

katsuki opens his mouth, and he speaks. but you can’t hear anything anymore, save for a ringing noise that thrums through your brain, stealing your vision in an unhurried second. you can barely feel the words you mouth, the searing kiss he places on your forehead. he knows, at least, how you feel. you can rest easy now. 

[broomsticks]

me, seeing if i can bait anyone into diving into BL fandom drama with me 😈

transcript (pdf) here

v interesting episode bringing together some really different perspectives! podcast hosts are australia-based academics who usually focus on china politics—i haven’t listened to any other episodes but they’re definitely on my to-do.

they also brought on an american(?) scholar of chinese history/ art history lecturer at HKU, who reads fanfiction and is interested in chinese tv dramas from the state censorship/regulation pov — and a(n asian?) BL (+ thorki, johnlock, etc) fanfic author 幻想症患者 (love the nick. means smth like ‘suffers from delusions’)

it’s no easy feat to be the lone fanfic writer in this discussion, to have to fairly represent the many aspects to these really complex issues, and there were a couple of rather - honestly not even fandom 101, more like fandom 100-level type questions you’d only get from people with no fandom experience.

on the whole though the hosting was good, you can tell the hosts did a lot of prep on the untamed show and the controversies re. the actor and his fans/his real-life fans fandom

though, on that note, i thought the discussion was a bit muddled between these different groups of ‘fan/fandom’. i have no doubt that everybody in the discussion was clear that these were separate things and which they were talking about at any point in time, just maybe didn’t have the language to signpost/ organize it more clearly, but i could’ve used more structure imo.

• • •

i especially appreciated huanxiang’s point about how (very grossly paraphrased) there is safety and protection and freedom in nicheness and obscurity and (less grossly paraphrased) drama draws unnecessary attention from outsiders who don’t understand fandom - particularly this bit:

I would be very, very careful to link [fandom trends and phenomena to anything (LGBTQ issues etc) in real life], not that it cannot be done. But please don't do that before like, before you have finished like 100, 200 BL novels or something like that with like a full understanding of the space

understanding before judgment! please! yes!

but also — while n=1 is just that, n=1, but i’d be lying if i said i didn’t giggle a little at the undertone of the cultural value(?) that attention, standing out, is a negative thing and viewed with this like default-aversion/suspicion. idk

that said, my main thought re. this hesitation wrt people who don't belong to this community and understand the norms of this community wasn’t so much kinks and fantasies and premier zhou/chairman mao RPF, but rather not showing celebrities rpf of themselves / creators fic of their characters. neither type of wank is great, obviously, and the two types do often go hand in hand, but i’d almost rather wank be brought into the community than leak out of it

• • •

another point alluded to (not really discussed) on the pod that might be new to western media fandomgoers/ my usual mutual circle is that the untamed netflix tv show originated as original fiction published on a site that hosts both OF and FF both pay- and free-to-read. there were fan translations and all, that were taken down after official translation rights were sold (there is a lot of wank & drama on this issue. a lot.)

a 2019 censorship crackdown on the site, unrelated to (predating) the untamed/xiao zhan controversy discussed on the pod

anyway, point being - the coexistence of the two camps — intended-for-commercialization amateur fiction, presumably sanitized and lowest-common-denominator and all that, and niche not intended for wider popularity-type writing — is fascinating. good to know that they can stably coexist in some form, given how much concern there often is re. commercialization of fanworks that the former will outcompete the latter!

• • •

BY FAR THE BEST TAKE - MY FAVE part of the podcast - was dr angie baecker’s response to the question is BL (response is also applicable to slash fic) subversive?

BL is and can be an extremely subversive space. But I also think BL can replicate a lot of structures that are not subversive. I also want to draw attention to the fact that many people in the LGBTQ community, some enjoy BL, some read it, some don't, some hate it.

when you have largely straight women writing romances about gay couples without having much access to knowledge about what those relationships are like, I think that there is [huge potential] for misunderstandings about queer identities and the LGBT community

It can be really freeing to see [to see the range of different types of M/M relationships], to explore not just homosexuality, but also homosociality

But at the same time, when you have such an emphasis on the male relationships, like everyone in the Untamed is a gay man or in an M/M relationship, that often comes at the cost of erasing a lot of female characters. And so you have this drama that may have started in some ways from the lack of agency given to female characters, but then it replicates a lot of the erasure of women as centres of agency within stories, too. So, I think it can be subversive, yes. And it could be very unsubversive, actually.

definitely some food for thought there. obligatory (and i do mean it!!) preface that fandom is not meaningful activism, does not have to be, you are not a bad person for not engaging with it — but i do wonder… in my view, there’s an element of - ‘with how oppressive the power structures of mainstream media, wider society, etc can be… why not take the opportunity to push back against them a little, here in this space where we can?’

• • •

also had a laugh at dr baecker’s unfortunately prescient prediction, their hesitation, that while I feel like right now we're really on the cusp of a rising trend in terms of seeing BL represented in pop culture - we're only going to see more and more of it -

I am a little worried that there might be some kind of like a foreclosing of this space because there's always this kind of Icarus phenomenon of when something gets too popular, right, it gets clipped back a little bit. So, I do worry about that.

😬 hahaha. that aged well.

• • •

misc pieces of fun fandom drama:

whether character name tags should include diacritics/tone marks! on the side of no: convenience - up until recently, tone marks wouldn’t autocomplete correctly. and for all the incorrectness, it’s not (any more) ambiguous. on the yes side: tone marks are objectively (more) correct. does their omission amount to racism?

it seems like (some sections of?) chinese webnovel fandom apparently have the fandom culture of not messing with the creator’s stated preferences — not just canon ships, but sexual preferences (topping and bottoming). fascinating!! fandom etiquette 👀

[berry-nana-png]

Just wanted to send an Ask on/about some stuff!

So about Dead Ringer, been looking at ur hxllo nana YT community tab posts and updates and stuff, including on Dead Ringer.  And I just want to say holy moly goly, an hour long video for Ep4!  Man, and the last episode (Ep3) of like almost 44 minutes was already long!  So much effort and stuff, no wonder why (among various other reason(s)) it has been taking a bit.  Really excited for it to come out this month Feb. or March probably, but like, I hope u aren’t  hurting ur self too much doing so.  I know u have been working really hard on it, and u also have College (which, I can relate with how College can make u busy, being in College myself) stuff, and stuff.  So while I am very excited for the next episode (Ep4) of Dead Ringer, please also take things easy and stuff.

Also, the art u showed off of the next episode of Dead Ringer (Ep4) here: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCXJZFFCp9BLdCV7La6Sc5_A/community?lb=UgkxhXqJegkdDJa7Jf2Bq4AlNN6_HMEdXEpi

Look amazing!

I think the first one is probably Phantom, and wowie, if so, no wonder u said “Phantom can’t be left alone for 5 minutes”.  The second picture has a pretty scared/worried looking Paps, with a (probably) maliciously mischievous Dust (though, it could be Sans, u can’t see his eyes in that picture after.  And considering some stuff in the episodes itself and some stuff u have said, and considering Sans is not really, the most sane of people, rather he became Dust or not, yeahhhh…, it could be Sans Classic.  It is probably Dust, but it could be him instead) - is he the one causing Paps his worry and/or fear?  Or part of the reason for it? - they both look quite cute in that picture actually.  And the 3rd picture has Mettaton!  Nice to see him!  Can’t remember if he was in previous episodes really, I don’t think he was, and/or if he really was.  But yeah, nice to see him!  He looks gorgeous/gorgeous in ur style.  He is also looking pretty fearful and/or worried in that picture to me.  And now, while I am excited to see him, and I am now, worried for his safety (too).

(More) stuff that u said about Dead Ringer Episode 4 in ur community tab on ur YT: hxllo nana:

“More Info on Deadringer 4: Frisk is having the worst day of their life (so far), Papyrus should really see a therapist, Phantom can’t be left alone for 5 minutes, Alphys is currently shoving her head in her laptop and repeatedly slamming it shut, and both Sanses should be put on an FBI watchlist or a restraining order

“Got it? got it! Goodbye!”

So I got from this is Paps, Frisk, and Alphys aren’t to be having that great of times and/or were already having not great of times, Phantom, like I said/alluded too, just seems to be causing problems and stuff, and both the Sanses are messed up.  Which yeah, makes sense.  Though, I get that Dust:  “should be put on an FBI watchlist or a restraining order”, but like, I am getting more and more worried about Classic Sans.  THere are have been some hints so far, that Classic Sans isn’t doing the best either too, and Classic Sans, like I have said already is quite messed up and not the most sane himself, even before becoming Dust (and/or etc.), but at same time what is Classic up to/doing/have done??  God, Sanses, I love them, but they sometimes get me worried of and/or for them.

Also, some last Dead Ringer stuff.

I am very excited, but also worried (for the characters in the series, that is.  Esp. with the stuff going in the series itself, the poll u did on who u think is going to die, some of these other things u are saying, like in posts.  Including some stuff I have already talked about here.  And/or etc.) for the next Dead Ringer episode(s).

And I am very excited to see how Ep4 (and in turn, Ep5) will be Frisk, Sans’, and Paps’ stories, because I think u mentioned that Ep4 and Ep5 will be their stories.  Which is cool!  And makes Ep4 being so long even better too.

Will probably/maybe be saying more specific Dead Ringer stuff (of Ep3 and then Ep4 for the most part probably) after Ep4 comes out.

Ok, I am done now, lol.  I got more to say on stuff, but those are about ur other AUs and stuff, and not Dead Ringer (well, for the most part).  So I feel like that/those would be better for other Ask(s) to separate out the content of the Asks.  Plus, this is getting really long.  So I am going to stop this Ask here.  :)

- HI CHAT! Holy hell that’s a lot but i’ll answer every one the best I can without spoilers teehee. It has been very..stressful trying to keep up with it all.

- I have been pushing myself but I do it because I know it’s going to be worth it + i just started spring break and i can’t wait to finish this so that i could lay in bed for hours…and probably start drafting the new ep- Thank you for your concern ^w^

- Since this ep is coming out really soon i’ll say a few bits teehee, Phantom well…his mind is pretty messed up and all over the place but who could blame him?

- For the art pecies where pap is nervous, pap has the red scarf that he and dust patched up in ep 3 instead of a white one. What is he nervous about? ………

- Mettaton’s first appearance! He does look rather scared doesn’t he? Hm….

- Classic Sans…isn’t very classy, huh? …….:)

- Hell yeah i love asks I LOVE THEM GIVE ME GRGRGRGRGR (i appreciate your enthusiasm for my work it makes me so happy >w<) I can’t wait to post the new episode and see what you all think of it. It’s strange to me how my personal projects and deadringer meant to just be for myself to enjoy turned out to be enjoyed by others and became something more <3