#i really have no idea when the last time i felt wholly in control of / connected to my body huh

[starchild--27]

Inktober - Day 2: Spiders

a/n: technically, i wrote this before inktober but it's a Stray Kids x Spiderman fic and it fits ok- anyway, it was inspired by this video i saw on instagram. enjoy xD also, i am sorry jisung, minho is really mean to you in that one but you take it like a champ- xD and big hug and big shoutout to @heartcravings who supported me in this silly idea ^-^

starring: Peter Han Jisung as (quite new) Spider-man, Lee Know (Minho) as Damsel in Distress, Felix (Yongbok) as sweet but not so helpful kid xD

word count: ~ 2k

-

Watching the sun set over the Seoul skyline had always been one of Jisung’s favourite things. Even as a small kid, he had been mesmerized by all the city lights and, until a few months ago, strolling through the busy streets, catching the last golden rays of sunshine, was one of his usual activities to get into trouble for (his parents weren’t really keen on their teenage-son wandering around somewhere outside when evening was slowly turning into night). 

Now he was sitting on a skyscraper, legs dangling over the edge as he was scribbling words into his notebook, bopping his head along to a beat and melody only he could hear. The sparkling reflections on the Han river all the way down there always inspired him a lot and one of the greater advantages of being Seoul’s one and only Spider-man was the prime view on all the pretty lights below brightening more and more as the sky above turned a dark shade of blue. 

Despite all the beauty around him, Jisung let out a frustrated sigh. Why do none of the lines work out? Why isn’t it coming together the way it’s supposed to? With a little more strength than intended he crossed out some of his notes, tossed the notebook into the general direction of his backpack and let himself fall back, laying down on the roof with his gaze towards the sky, watching the clouds passing by. The traffic noises were much more quiet up here but still a buzzing in the background that didn’t help Jisung’s focus at all. He felt restless, unsettled; he needed to move, he decided, and sat up again, scooting back from the roof’s edge and tied the double knots in his sneakers again.

Quickly, he grabbed his backpack, threw pen and notebook in there to accompany two of his comic books and his big headphones, closed the zipper and strapped on the bag over his dark blue hoodie jacket. The summery warmth would still cling between the high buildings so he left the zipper open and only pulled the hood over his head, then his mask over the lower part of his face, covering his nose and mouth but leaving his eyes and forehead free. He had toyed around with full-face masks and tighter, sportier suits for a while but he was much more comfortable in his wide jeans, simple t-shirt and hoodie, being able to feel the wind in his hair as he took his swings from one street corner to another.  

Another of Jisung’s favourite things was the drop. Granted, the whole jumping-from-buildings-business had been really scary at first when he wasn’t able to control his new-found powers properly - before he became Spiderman he hadn’t even been able to control his normal, non-superpower limbs properly most of the time - so it had taken some time for him to finally take a leap (literally and figuratively) of faith an just… jump, letting himself fall, knowing and trusting he’d be able to catch himself anytime. He felt most powerful when he was racing to the ground, right before he stretched out his arm and let webfluid shoot from his wrist. 

Most people were too busy waiting at traffic lights, hurrying home or making phone calls to notice him as he practically flew through the streets, above their heads. Yeah, he was pretty damn grateful he didn’t have to bother with walking or waiting at street crossings anymore and swinging from one building to the next, speeding through the streets of his hometown always had the wonderful effect of clearing his mind, sharpening his supernatural senses. It was a wholly different and much superior way of experiencing his environment, when he could blend out the noises in his head and solely focus on the city pulsating around him.

That was exactly why he almost swung right into a wall when he heard a scream for help - it had disturbed the city's rhythm, his rhythm. Sigh. Oh well, he wasn’t Spider-man only for himself. He knew it was his responsibility to use his powers to help people in danger, even when he was in the middle of curing a nasty writer’s block. So he changed course to where the screams came from, steady in his pace again. The shouts of “Help! We need help!” got louder and Jisung got more nervous. He wasn’t that good at fighting crime and rescuing people yet, he had only done this a handful of times and he hoped desperately that one day the pang of uneasiness that spread every time as his brain was processing what he was about to do would disappear. 

Another shout. He took a deep breath and tried to fully concentrate on the task ahead instead of his insecurities. Maybe it was only somebody’s cat stuck somewhere really high again? That had been his first rescue. Cute, yet slightly insane, orange cat stuck on a roof. But he had to be prepared for everything, now that he had decided to build some sort of reputation for himself.

“Help!! Help, here's someone in danger!” The voice was really near now. Voices, actually, one cursing, a darker one shouting for help. How hadn’t he seen anyone yet? He swung onto the next roof and halted for a moment.

“Hello? I’m here to help, I just can’t see you,” Jisung shouted to the streets, no idea what else he could have done to announce his presence. 

“Oh, thank God. You’re that Spider-kid, right? There’s- My friend- Gosh, he just hangs there, he’s been in distress for- I don’t know, he’s been hanging here for I while and-”

“And I don’t know how long I can still hold myself so hurry-the-fuck-up!” That was the second voice.

“Yeah yeah, it’s Spider-man, by the way. But I still have no idea where you are. Are you like… really high up or-”

“Down here, you idiot. Not everyone can reach the rooftops as easily as you can!” The second voice again. Yes, this guy definitely sounded a lot more strained than the first one. 

Figures, thought Jisung, if he’d been holding his own weight for a while now. And in a dress too. Maybe it got stuck somewhere while the guy was doing some sort of parkour challenge?

Normally, Jisung would consider his creativity and imagination strengths that had helped him through a couple quite dire situations, but looking back to this particular case… Yup, he definitely would have appreciated it more if his brain had questioned what he had heard for at least a moment before making up an elaborate backstory for a situation that, well, wasn’t quite as he understood it to be.

As the two figures finally came into sight, one hanging from a metal rod that served as a connection between two flat roofs (for reasons beyond Jisungs’s understanding), the other standing safely on one of the roofs, Jisung shifted fully into superhero mode. One athletic somersault, two powerful swings and a graceful landing later, he found himself next to the first guy - and was surprised to see that the darker voice he had heard belonged to a kid around his age, his boyish face littered with freckles over his cheekbones and button nose. Somehow, he had pictured a more grownup person. But okay. Now was not the time to be distracted by that. The second guy still needed his help with the dress. 

Quickly, Jisung mapped out a smooth rescue in his head and then took a running start, so it was a little anticlimactic as he slipped rather ungracefully after three steps. Luckily, he caught himself again, cringing internally at his own clumsiness, as he jumped from the edge of the roof, shooting a string of webfluid with one hand as the other grabbed the hem of the guy's dress. It was pulled down easily enough, successfully freeing the clearly also teenaged boy from the piece of clothing.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING??”

Jisung flinched so hard at the angry scream, he let go of the fabric in his hands and almost missed his laning on the next closest roof. Okay, something had gone wrong.

“DIDN’T YOUR FRIEND SAY SOMETHING ABOUT YOU BEING STUCK IN THIS DRESS??”

“Oh my God- YONGBOK-AH, WHY DID YOU GET THE MOST INCOMPETENT SUPERHERO EVER TO RESCUE ME??”

Jisung cringed again, beginning to slowly understand what had just happened here. Yeah, with this kind of miscommunication, he had really earned it to be called incompetent.

“I SAID, HE WAS HANGING THERE! IN DISTRESS! REALLY, WHAT MADE YOU THINK THE DRESS WAS THE PROBLEM HERE??” That was the deep voice again. Yongbok, as Jisung had learned.

He was too embarrassed to say anything more as he went swinging back again to pick up the boy that was now hanging there, wearing nothing but boxers and a pair of socks. Jisung landed squatting on the rod, keeping his balance with ease.

“Sorry, you can... um, just let go, I’ll catch you,” he said, now at a normal volume.

The other boy muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a brutally sarcastic “Very trustworthy”. But he let go with nothing much but a quick squeal. Jisung jumped right after him, catching the boy by the waist and pulling him in. 

“Now hold on.”

Another sarcastic comment. But Jisung was too focused on getting the two of them on stable ground again to understand it.

There was an awkward silence after they landed next to Yongbok and the formally-hanging boy had let go of Jisung, bringing some distance between them as Jisung himself was desperately trying to find his speach again.

“Um… Sorry, again, for… you know, that messy… whatever. I… I’m still new to… err… well, all this. So yeah, sorry, um…” Jisung stammered out, grinning apologetically as he was met with scowling face. 

“Minho.” Ah. Minho. Still looking at Jisung with that stern expression.  

“Ah. Yeah, sorry, Minho… Is there anything else I can help you guys with? Or should I just… go?”, he asked in quiet, almost careful tone. 

Minho raised his eyebrows without giving an answer, a certain expectation clearly written on his face. 

Dumbfounded, Jisung just stared back at him. How was he supposed to know what that meant? He was not a mind-reader! 

His eyes darted towards Yongbok for a moment, who looked strangely amused by this whole interaction. So no help from him either. 

Jisung’s gaze shifted back to Minho, whose face, in the meantime, had been drained of all the expectations, making room for a dry, resignated glare, as his eyes flashed downwards for a short moment. Jisung’s eyes followed the movement and- oh. 

Yup, that was definitely the lowest point of this stupid disaster mission.

“I’ll.. I’ll go get the dress,” he murmured and hurried to where the dress had slipped from his grip, returning to Yongbok and Minho in a heartbeat. 

“Thanks,” Minho said pointedly, immediately taking the dress from Jisung's hands and putting it back on, “That would be all.”

Jisung was dead-set on leaving as fast as possible, but… there was still something that- How the fuck did Minho manage to get into this situation in the first place? He opened his mouth to say something. 

“Don’t even ask. You don’t want to know. And even if you did, I wouldn’t tell you.” Another glare. Yongbok couldn’t hold back a giggling laugh now though. So that was that. 

Sigh.

“Well, um.. goodbye then," Jisung said, defeat clear in his voice, as he turned around to disappear in the heights of Seoul’s skyscrapers again.

“Bye, Spider-kid. I’ll try to get stuck at high places more often now. You clearly need training before you can call yourself Spider-man.” 

Wait. Had that been… a cheerful tone? Jisung turned around again and saw Minho smiling, now clearly amused by the absurdity of it all as well. 

“Mmh, can’t wait,” he added with another awkward grin. “See you around then.”

Then he jumped out of sight.

[crystalelemental]

Okay so I seem to be in endgame of Triangle Strategy. Chapters are coming in as one-shots, no sub-parts, and I made a big decision the game prompted me would be the big path divergence decision.

...which implies the others weren't. I'm sure there must be some differentiation, but now I'm thinking about it and like...how different are the other paths? Questions for round 2.

Anyway, Decisions Made Thus Far:

Visited Aesfrost (meaningless)

Refuse to hand over Roland (this feels like a big split path but maybe not?)

Refuse Silvio's invitation (they spoiled his intentions with the side dialogue)

Reveal the illicit salt trade (easy decision; we'd be the fall guys otherwise)

Refuse to surrender the Rosellans (yeah, fuck Hyzante)

Destroy the bridge and negotiate (seemed sensible, though blowing up the warship was a close second)

Oust the royalists (Benedict, whatever dad has to say can wait for actual crises to resolve. Also the village isn't great but the Royalist situation seemed worst)

Ally with Aesfrost to defeat Hyzante (killing Hyzante has always been my endgame, and Benedict is talking a lot of sense. Frederica, I hear your concerns, but we can discuss that after we won.)

Most of these were pretty easy decisions, though some had secondary options that I was drawn to just to know what's going on, but it felt like the less sane choice in-character.

I am admittedly slightly surprised at Roland leaving? Particularly the method. I won't claim it felt forced or entirely out of nowhere, just...something about it doesn't quite settle with me.

I mentioned in a previous post about it that a lot of characters felt very flat in your party, because while they have ideas, they're marked by this feeling of "strong convictions, loosely held." They can be swayed. As you approach endgame, some of these decisions won't be swayed at all. The last two, you have a party split over, as the proponent of each (Roland, Frederica, and Benedict respectively for both) will not budge on their stance. Which is nice! We get a bit of priority and importance out of them. But how their characters have solidified doesn't feel entirely...connected? In some ways?

Like okay, Benedict. Apparently, despite his super devoted approach to serving your father, was super pissed at him the entire time, because of how he and the previous king treated Serenoa and his mother. It's a cool reveal, I like it! But it's also the kind of thing that feels like we just established that now for something to talk about as far as Benedict's motivations go, when "he's just that devoted to the success of the house" already kinda spoke for itself.

Serenoa himself also gets hit a bit by this transition, as we're getting into territory where it feels like Benedict is in full control despite this being a team decision. I get that this is his plan, but Serenoa is passing off negotiations and leading the battle announcement to him, when that...never quite felt like their dynamic before? The Aesfrost route is themed around freedom, and I get the irony that Serenoa seems to be intentionally surrendering his to his advisor for his own benefit, but it doesn't feel wholly in line. Or maybe it does. He never really makes his own decisions, we always use the scales. I retract this one, actually, this one checks out.

Roland feels like the worst, though. Again, get that he's the kind soul and likes to help others. I get that the loss of life and the threat to the citizens is a big deal. But dude. My literal brother. Listen. There is no way you're this stupid. Like, you saw Hyzante's deal! You know! You were literally the first person, aside from Frederica, to get really mad about the slave class thing! And now it's fine? Because if it means no war then I guess we can just subject these people to eternal exploitation and torture? This one feels the worst of them. I get that Roland is kind of an impotent king and is abdicating responsibility, but even for him that's pretty bad.

Maybe I'm being nitpicky. Maybe they don't have enough character for this to be out of character, or maybe I didn't have a good read on what anyone was like prior to this. I don't dislike the general approach. I actually like Benedict's nefarious approaches, it gives him a lot more personality as the tactician. I like that Serenoa, as a leader, had the strength to lead Wolffort to this point, but with the big decisions abdicates a lot of responsibility to Benedict. I even like that Roland's kind of a piece of shit! I think there's something to be said for the weight of leadership changing someone in not-so-great ways, and how a king can be brought to see some as expendable for the greater good. But it also doesn't...feel as connected to what came before. Maybe I learn more about other stances and why people are the way they are in other routes, and it helps it click. I'm trying not to be too judgmental without full information, but as we approach the finish of one route, I'm going to start solidifying opinions. I'll keep my stance on things flexible until then.

With the exception of Avlora still not being here. I'm aligned with Aesfrost! Someone get Cordelia her knight back! Come on, you can't introduce this, separate them like a chapter later in the most annoying way possible, and just never bring it back!

[hoarderofliterature]

being indian-american and also very Gender is hilarious, a vignette

i think the easiest term for what my gender is, or sometimes isn't, is genderfluid. i don't think i've ever truly been able to understand the concept of gender, or how it's ever applied to me. but i'm not completely agender, either.

some people might argue that calling gender a performance can be a bullet in favor of bigots, who wish to treat trans people as just "disillusioned kids playing dress-up", as a teacher i once met in high school so succinctly put it. but gender is something i feel more tangibly in terms of performance, and i can't really put it in other words that make sense.

i find myself at odds with who i was, ten years ago. when gender felt like something out of my hands, an understanding waiting to be reached within my brain, hoping that one day it might solidify into something on a binary side, or at the very least, leave me with nothing at all to worry about.

(and when that didn't end up happening, a firm resolve to at least learn to deal with the constant dysphoria, await the supposedly masculine or feminine shifts in perspective the same way i anticipated and dealt with blood work results.)

i find myself at odds with that because gender to me now, and the way i feel it, is wholly performance. perspective, perception, their resulting behaviors and viewpoints, are all so fluid. and the way my gender shifts, flows into another, is still not something i am entirely in control of like the way i once wished, but something i can wield in the environment or situation in which i find myself, regardless of how it shows itself at that time.

anyway.

the way i dress most days is androgynous, so that if gender taps me on the shoulder and asks to be my skin for a few hours, i can work with it. but today was more masculine, and i was going downtown, so i decided to wear something to reflect that - an open floral shirt over a t-shirt with a golden chain, jeans, sneakers, and of course, a backwards baseball cap. which is about as southern california dude/butch of an outfit you can get without wearing swim shorts and a tank top.

and on the way back, i had to stop by an indian cultural event because a family friend was participating.

indian culture is very strict to the gender binary. this opposes some parts of vedic philosophy, in which the body is a mere shell for the soul, and so the soul is inherently without the idea or limitation of gender. it also renders gods as genderless, though we have the separation between gods and goddesses in mythology. many hindus haven't followed the true meaning of the scripture for a long time. but that's besides the point.

indian men tend to gather, standing or sitting, in groups while their wives shop, and not to talk- to steadfastly stare in opposite directions, and if they do talk, it's about politics. or the latest moon mission. indian women hover, stall to stall, either staring fearfully at their husbands or cheerfully talking with store owners, or silently comparing prices while taking stock of the different languages within nine square feet of them.

my experience of the indian american performance of gender, outside of what bollywood puts on screen, is, in a word, careful. everyone wants someone else to know, to notice, that the way they are dressed or the volume of their voice is deliberate. that the gold earrings they're wearing are 24K and they got them on their last trip to India over the summer. that they will fit in with the rest of their half of the crowd if they lower their voice, speak less, speak more, laugh louder, eat pani puri or samosas any more or less delicately than the man or woman next to them.

standards of being an indian man or woman are trained into us as young children, so that we grow up with a clear idea of what that looks like. how to dress (within american standards, but also indian standards, but also gender standards), how to talk, what topics to discuss, how to stand diminutively to avoid attracting attention, what to say to make others stay within their own gender boundaries, and let them recognize that we're doing the same.

great how that turned out, huh.

so when they're confronted with someone who doesn't fit any of those standards, who doesn't want to, who simply wants to exist in a culture that thrives on conformity and oneupmanship, they don't know what to do.

and standing with my father in this event market crowd was interesting. because i was deliberately performing masculinity in my clothing and stature, and people were thrown off. nearly every woman was in a chudidar or a dress or wearing makeup, staring at me and my long hair and my decidedly non-feminine presentation, trying to reconcile those. trying to figure out exactly why my mother let me leave the house dressed like this, because you can't escape your indian parents' clutches even as an adult. trying to know exactly what i was, failing, and turning back to the other women with one eye on the merchandise and one eye on me.

and it wasn't the fact that i wasn't in indian dress- there were plenty of people in western clothing- but rather that i stood by my father, equally silently, in a crowd of men looking like they'd rather be anywhere but there, holding on to gender not as a bargaining tool or a tenet, but as a rippling, nebulous key.

[teethrotter]

mental prattling

[dboliklover]

Breathless Whispers - Shu

My new series. Will take a while to complete (don’t mind the fact I am STILL working on the Easter Smut series). It’s based off an ask I got and is very sinful and I implore everyone who is triggered by the following to NOT INTERACT WITH THIS SERIES. The tags will vary from each entry but “Breathless Whispers” is a SAKAMAKI BROTHERS X STEPMOTHER! READER Smut series. As such Cheating/Adultery and pseudo-incest/stepcest are always going to be included in the chapters. 

Tags for this chapter: Stepcest/pseudo-incest, cheating, NTR (Netorare) ((Karlheinz gets cucked)), dub-con (the reader believes she has feelings for Shu), dubiously-consensual implied impregnation, mentions of pregnancy, blood, and my out-of-practice smut writing skills that border on cringe, Happy sex (?) 

This is as vanilla as it’s gonna get for this series, methinks. Next chapter it’s Reiji’s turn. ;) Happy sinning ❤

WORD COUNT: 5.8K (11 pages)

___

In his life, Shu learnt to try to ignore meaningless things around him and to feel as precious little as possible - he didn’t need to feel, it added no enhancement to his life. To love was to have weakness and those he loved and cared for often ended tragically.

It was only natural that he chose to stick to himself and become a solitary creature after all that he’s been through, was it not? Solitude meant safety. Slowly but surely Shu cut as many emotions away with a metaphorical knife as he could, opting instead to be careless regarding all matters. He didn’t need anyone else, just himself. Only himself.

But there was one emotion that refused to leave, one emotion he would never allow the chance to withdraw from his heart - hatred. Pure, unadulterated loathing towards the man who caused his, his brothers’ and their mothers’ tragedies - Karlheinz. The hatred he felt was coated by a layer of would-be indifference - he knew better than to challenge the man, at least for the meanwhile - memories from the North Pole haunted him still. His father was a cruel, demanding man and Shu felt abhorrence, perhaps it did not reach the hatred felt by some other brothers but it was there and undying.

Karlheinz’s largest sin of all was the pain he caused his mother - the burdens he put onto him were a close second, however. But Beatrix’s suffering still wounded Shu to think about even after so many years had passed. The guilt instilled in him from that time flowed through his veins, unrelenting. His mother had her streaks of emotionally tormenting him but after all she merely wanted to prepare him for a difficult life ahead and Shu missed her presence as demanding as it was. And that was why when his father chose to re-marry yet again, Shu felt nothing but slight pity for the bride but regardless, he felt towards her as he did with most things; wholly indifferent. That was, of course, until he got to know the woman - he recalled the wedding day, it was a boring event and the fact his appearance had to be publicly seen bothered him for he’d much rather be doing anything but - still, he did as told and attended, albeit with minimal effort.

You made for a blushing bride, he couldn’t deny that. Glamorous appearance was hardly something he heeded though, and his father was known for choosing beautiful women as his wives - you knew nothing of the terrible fate that was bound to befall you in the coming months or years. At least all the other wives were long dead, namely Cordelia (whose torments only fed into the neglect his father served his mother, furthering her agonies) so you’d have no other competitors for Karlheinz’s horrid affections. He felt nothing for you, then. But unbeknownst to him, that detachment would not last forever and soon thereafter Karlheinz sent his bride away to live with his sons: what drove his father to such a foolish decision baffled Shu and he felt it somewhat of a ploy, another experiment to conduct. Maybe it was, but then again it only wasted time and energy to speculate on what went through Karlheinz’s mind. But you were their new stepmother, not one of their sacrificial brides; that was made clear, if unspoken. You were not their shared property but the property of the vampire king and it was to be respected, even if you had a puppet authority or no true power over them.

He avoided you at first, in his mind getting to know anyone was worthless;  and yet you persisted under the guise of ‘getting to know’ him and the others, wanting a relationship with your new stepsons. None of them really wanted a relationship with you, except for perhaps Reiji who hoped that you’d speak well of him to his father, ever-the-suckup.

You were a vampire of course, although it was surprising to learn that you were not a pureblood as they were. Karlheinz always made his decisions for a reason and he knew the reason for marrying you wasn’t love: therefore must’ve been something else entirely.

Karlheinz was incapable of love.

Gradually he found himself enjoying your attempted affections and voice - you figured out his disposition and chose to talk to him without expecting anything more than grunts and hums in return, knowing he preferred to listen to his music. Even he wasn’t sure at what point in your relationship he started to favour the sound of your melodious voice to his earphones, but it happened and he soon found himself turning down the volume as you spoke about your day if only to listen to your sweet voice far more vividly. He started to seek you out, something...unusual growing in his soul at the sight of you - he began appearing in places you were around the mansion, silently guarding you against the likes of the others (such as Laito). He liked being around you - a feeling he’d lost long ago ever since the “death” of Edgar - true companionship. But it couldn’t last perpetually, as nothing ever could, and those amicable feelings grew until they bloomed into something far darker than protectiveness towards his new stepmother and prospective friend - his heart yearned for you in the most unusual ways. It was troublesome for an overwhelming variety of reasons, primarily because he couldn’t have you. His romantic intentions soon turned to a subtle obsession. He needed to be close to you, always there - watching.

You’d always smile and greet him pleasantly, innocently - how on earth you could be so innocent after centuries’ worth of living on this earth, much less so after marrying Karlheinz, he had no clue. Your naivety and sweet nature brought him to you, made him fall into insanity because of you. It wasn’t instantaneous, things rarely were. Months went by but eventually he could no longer cope, his dreams were haunted by your form and always the exact same: you laid nude, breasts perfect and demure for him to corrupt, moaning out his name like the most delightful song from an ephemeral musical meant only for him. But when he awoke he was alone.

You tempted him without even knowing it but it was only a matter of time before it would come back to haunt you, he couldn’t be expected to have control over his instincts and needs forever and the time came when he finally snapped.

Stepmother or not, he was going to have you. In a way, it served as the most exquisite form of perceived vengeance towards that man - to steal his wife. He was hesitant about how to approach his desire to seduce you, such things were really more of Laito’s expertise, but he’d be damned if he failed to achieve his goals. You were too good for Karlheinz - a kindly thing to the point of intoxication and frustration, too pure for a vampire. He wanted to be the one to fully spoil your spirit, he wouldn’t permit his father to shatter your psyche as he did with all his previous wives. Shu was going to protect you, but in order to do that he first had to take you; claim you for himself. And that’s when he came across the most intriguing sight: your hushed moans of pleasure as your [slender/chubby/elegant] fingers stroked your glistening cunt in your private chambers - the same chambers which were supposed to be blessed in sacred matrimony if only his father hadn’t left you here all alone at the mercy of his ravenous sons. He must’ve assumed such a thing would happen sooner or later, hadn’t he? If not, then...well, Shu couldn’t help but think it his father’s loss from his own folly. “Shu.” Your angelic voice uttered his name - not his father’s, not your husband’s - but his. In your moment of unholy ecstasy, it was him on your mind; thoughts of him that edged you to your bliss. His obsessive passions were returned to him in kind, it seemed, and he couldn’t be more glad.

“Shu?” You questioned the following evening at dusk, that blossom-pink blush dusting your cheeks like an undead Aphrodite, tempting him further into his hidden lustful hunger, “Is...is everything okay? You’ve been staring at me all evening and I just wanted to ask if there’s something wrong-” He sighed, eyes half-lidded as if tired but it was his internal frustration revealed. “There is.” “Oh?” You pouted and fuck, he wanted to bruise your plump lips right there and then until they held his mark. “You really are more trouble than you’re worth,” It was a lie, of course, but he was a guarded man and his words reflected that. “Shu…? What do you mean?” The sadistic aspect of him was fuelled by the subtle distress in your eyes, however, you tried to remain calm, he’d said harsher things and you knew he scarcely ever meant them but something...something seemed so offbeat tonight. No, not just tonight - as of recently, but you couldn’t place a finger on the exact date when things began to change between you.

Your hands were down, pressed together as your thumbs nervously rubbed the other. You just wanted answers. “Heh,” He smirked, “You have no idea how alluring you are, do you?” His tired eyes stared earnestly into your soul and you felt stripped of your integrity. An innocent blush flooded your visage with lecherous embarrassment at such a sensual suggestion, sputtering out various syllables as you rushed to find your footing and speak out in protest of such an inappropriate topic between mother and son - that was what you were, related or not...you were his mother, even if merely by marriage. Guilt clogged your throat up as you thought of your own lust for your stepson, he was only slightly younger than you were and handsome beyond compare (as much as you loathed to admit it, your carnal self preferred Shu’s indescribable silent grace and steely blue eyes to the snowy tresses of his father) and disgust for yourself stung you deeper than a knife dipped in holy water - had he...witnessed your acts of depravity in your chambers? Did he know? “S-Shu, I...I don’t know what you mean,” You were drowning, unable to form proper words, “Don’t.” He cut you off before you could deny what you both knew at that moment. You weren’t as innocent and proper as you made yourself out to be. As you wished to be. No, you were a creature of tainted prurience and Shu was more than happy to play into your fantasies. You paled and nodded, if you were human your heart would’ve surely been palpitating by now. Fear wholly consumed you - would he be disgusted by you - no, he would’ve made that clear by now. Shu hid his thoughts and feelings from others but if he’d felt abhorrent disgust he wouldn’t have chosen to speak to you or indeed even be around you, you trusted that truth if nothing else. But then there was only one explanation for his demeanour, one that made you clench your thighs tight as you stood before him, a woman. He stood from his seat, no longer laying on the windowsill. “You’ve been a terrible wife,” Tears of crimson welled in your eyes while your knees felt weak but you nodded, ashamed. “Yes.” “And a filthy mother,” His harsh breath on your ear and neck made you whimper, “Y...yes,” You stuttered out with another whimpering moan, “Shu please don’t toy with me, I’m sorry I-” Without another sound escaping your painted lips you felt the amorous pressure of your stepson’s kiss, disclosing the intense emotions he returned for you. Your mind screamed at you for your sins and yet you were both inhuman creatures; Perpetuity of faithfulness was boresome and your husband had done little but ignore you and your hopes for a good life. Shu, however, had been there since the beginning of your marriage - even if you’d started out as nothing more than his father’s wife - now you were so much more, immensely more. Your knees buckled as you gave into the kiss, unable to avoid your feelings for him a second longer - you needed him just like this and he needed you too.

Human or not, the inherent wrongness burned your flesh and chest. You’d tried to be a good wife but your husband had practically abandoned you here with his sons bred for him by other women, he’d left you here and did little to even write to you. Loneliness was an obvious side-effect and it was only a matter of time before you would’ve fallen into another’s arms. But your debauchery brought you right into his son’s embrace. A terrible wife indeed.

Shu devoured your moans, swallowing your lust and increasing his own as his ample size grew in the confinements of his pants. “Fuck,” He huffed out as you pulled away from him, blinking. Your thighs burned with a need only he could satisfy. A shy hand wandered down his body towards his growing erection, stroking it from the fabric of his pants. Your efforts were rewarded by the sound of his deep groans. How long had it been since anyone touched you like this? Since you’d been able to make someone feel unutterable pleasure - since anyone made you feel wanted? You had slept with Karlheinz only a couple of times and he failed to sate your inner hunger as Shu was doing with only kisses and loving groans. “You’re playing with fire,” He breathed out, staring at you and sealing you in place. “I...know,” You swallowed thickly, “P-please, I...I need-” “What do you need, whore?” His teasing words of degradation made you feel alive, you were the object of his uttermost attention. His lips traced your neck, licking and gnawing but never piercing, fangs flying over the tender flesh. “You.” The certainty in your otherwise meek voice nearly made him burst right there. He was done restraining himself, pearly fangs sharper than needles pierced your neck as Shu drank the sweet nectar beneath. Your pleasured moans filled the hallways of the Sakamaki manor and he prayed his brothers could hear you wherever they were knowing that he won you. And he was going to keep you. You were going to no longer be just his stepmother - you would be his woman.

The blood, thick and plentiful, dripped down your neck. The droplets were not wasted as his tongue gathered them before they could drip onto the marble flooring. Shu was going to get addicted to this taste - your taste - he was sure of it. This was what you were made for; to belong to him. As he did this you toyed with his pants, unzipping them and releasing his erect cock from its prison, letting it spring free, wet with precum. “Oh fuck,” You whimpered at the sensation, pumping up and down his length. You wanted this, you wanted him so badly. You could feel yourself slowly dripping with clenched thighs. This was wrong - it was revolting - but you couldn’t stop the heat inside you, your inner desires. On your quest to befriend your sons you inadvertently ended up falling in love with one of them and never before had you longed to be held by someone as you did when you were with him.  

You wanted to be his, no one else’s. But you couldn’t be, for you already were a taken woman; despite the truth, you wanted to succumb to your immorality; to pretend that, for tonight alone, you were his.

Once he pulled away from your neck Shu chuckled lowly, “You’re such a lewd slut, mother.” You cringed at the name, reminding yourself of the positions between you two and, for a short-lived second, you attempted to pull away except the moment you did he caged in on you, back shoved against the wall with burning eyes glaring at you. “But you’re going to be my slut from now on.” his breath hitched as your hand movements sped up, blushing crimson from your wicked sensuality. You were loving this, in all its sinfulness. “Y-Yes,” You choked out submissively as you brought him to his edge, creamy cum coating your hand and sinking into the fabric of your dress, physically tainting you. It drove you wild.

The sight of you in front of him, dress dripping with his cum made him hard almost instantly as he ordered you to strip for him after he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the empty music room - he didn’t want to be interrupted by any of his bothersome brothers.

“Strip for me.”

You nodded and bit down harshly on your lip, droplets of blood still flowing from your neck at the open puncture wound, staining the white semen-soaked fabric as you unzipped the back and slowly released your hold on it as it fell down your form until you were exposed in only your undergarments, intimate and raw. This was incredibly embarrassing and yet, for him...you didn’t mind humiliating yourself. You were convinced of it, now: you were in love with him. Soft hands twirled around to unclip your bra, feeling as though it wasn’t merely your body which you were exposing to him but your very being as your breasts bounced free from the cups’ confinements, bra forgotten as you threw it down onto the floor, not caring about anything else but him. ‘Don’t do this’, your sanity pleaded but whatever morality may have existed in the cage of your heart was extinguished with a single gaze into his yearning eyes. If you didn’t do this the lack of his touch on your skin would surely drive you insane. You just wanted to be loved, cherished and used.

You were married - and although that sentiment alone should have been enough to snap you out of this sexual haze you were trapped in, it did little to sway your lust-filled judgement. Swallowing nervously your fingers dipped below the strips of your panties, sliding down your silky thighs, pride consumed you as you watched his subtle but intense reactions, the way his thick member twitched in anticipation made you feel powerful for the first time in your life. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you. “Come here,” He growled, making you squeal as you nodded like a good little whore and fell onto your knees, crawling over to him - you felt like putting on a show for him, filled with risque concupiscence. If your husband was to ever find out you feared the consequences and despite the dangers, it drove you further into the arms of his eldest son to consider how taboo, how wrong such a union was. There was something unspokenly intimate about this. An intimacy from which you never wished to awaken. As soon as you were at his feet you admired his cock, glistening from residue cum in the moonlight. “Oh God,” You were about to cross a border from which you could never return and it turned you on profoundly to think about how your relationship would develop from here. Opening your mouth, you took his length inside your warmth, (e/c) eyes staring up at him like a sweet gazelle, pumping your head up and down and twisting your tongue around him as you sucked his member with a fierce determination to please. He believed this was the closest to heaven he would ever be; you, his personal fallen angel at his feet, his cock in your mouth.

Shu thought you were perfect just like this; doing all the work as you fucked your mouth on his cock, giving him your all as he sat back, eyes fluttering shut to focus on the pleasure you were providing. You were so good for him, such a pretty girl. Such an ideal woman, his woman. Further lewd commentary fell from his lips as he prompted you on. He wanted you on your knees for him each night, and you would be. He would make sure that things would stay this way forever now he was so close to having you all to himself. Even if it meant having to fight against his father, even if it meant the most intensive of efforts and having to use all the energy he had stored in his muscles - though he’d never utter it aloud, for you he would do anything.

Even if the only way to keep you would be to commit patricide. You were worth it. Just before his release, he pulled your head back by gripping your hair forcefully causing a pained yell to escape from you, your voice full of physical anguish that set off a primal need within his chest. “That’s enough.” He then lifted your chin to look him in the eyes, “Ride me.” You gulped back the juices in your mouth and shakily stood as your thighs were flooded with slick. “Y-Yes I…” You blushed vehemently as you aligned yourself with his cock, sucking in a sharp hiss as you felt the heat of it against your burning cunt. “I want you to make me yours.” Instantly you sat down, thighs clenched as your walls adjusted to the intrusion, making you cry out in ecstasy. Did you seriously almost orgasm simply from having his length inside of you? You couldn’t be blamed - not when your husband had neglected you. But it was going to be all better now that Shu was here to help you. Just as a good stepson should. “Fuck,” He gasped out quietly, breath falling from his chest. You were so fucking tight he could’ve potentially fooled himself into believing you were still virginal. That was, of course, until he reminded himself that his father stole that honour for himself and elicited underlying rage in Shu. With the buck of his hips he drove himself inside you as you cried out his name, holding tightly onto him, arms tied around his neck as you rode him, clumsily moving your hips and revealing your sexual inexperience to him; the knowledge that his father didn’t seem to take any time cherishing your body like this, lewd and sinful, eased him somewhat because it meant he could be the one to make you completely lose your mind and become his perfect little whore.

Maybe he’d even make you his wife, along the way.

His arms held your waist and he lazily guided the movement of your hips. You were insatiable, rapid. He could tell you wanted to go faster but his strong hands consistently ceased your attempts - he was going to force you to take your time, to truly feel the way his cock filled your insides, to ensure your walls would take the shape of his dick.

He wanted you to know that he was superior to his father, that no one could ever please you better. He never felt so attached to anyone prior to you, you did something to him. Something dark. Enchanting. And he was never going to let you go after this. By giving your body to him, you have given yourself in your totality.

Even if you didn’t know it quite yet, or didn’t fully apprehend the consequences sex with him would bring.

Your whines became far more desperate with each blunt thrust. Slow, steady but forceful; Shu’s cock reached into the deepest parts of you, lovingly rubbing your cunt. It was indisputable that he was focused on your enjoyment as much as he was on his - it wasn’t anything like what sex with Karlheinz was like, he was self-gratifying and solely cared about his own high, Shu (much to your surprise) paid attention to your smallest reactions to ensure this was as great for you as it was for him. His fingers delved below and started to mercilessly torment your clit, electricity flying through your spine and cunt clenching as more love juices were produced, soaking his cock and helping to lubricate the thrusts.

He wanted to show you how mindblowing sex with him could be, to show you he could love you in ways no one else ever could. In the eyes of his brothers, especially in Reiji and Ayato’s point-of-view, he was the one who got everything; the golden, careless heir. But they did not and would never understand that he had everything he didn’t want. His entire life the things he truly yearned for were stolen from him, his happiness, his innocence, his friends and beloved companions of human and animal kind; destroyed, ruined, killed. It reared his indifference to the material goods he possessed for they held absolutely no value of their own. And now there was you. You, you, you. Sakamaki Shu knew that, without a single shred of disbelief, he would happily give up all of this if it meant he got to keep you. All the wealth and grandeur and power that his position brought was worthless in comparison to his beloved whore whimpering above him as she impaled herself on his cock.

“S-Shu,” You moaned out into his ear, “Fa...faster, please,” You choked back spit as you made feeble attempts to catch your breath, the intense friction between your joined bodies making it difficult to think. It wasn’t as rough or primal as you initially thought it would be like, it was...better than that, intimate. Was this what they mean when they say sex can be ‘making love’? This closeness between bodies as they become one, the heat and passion in the air and bouncing breasts and thighs clasped around one’s lover? It wasn’t fucking - it was so much more. A proclamation of love, even, though you could never dare and utter that belief out loud. His self-satisfied comments, “Hm,” He playfully paused completely, making your eyes widen as you stared at him with desperation for him to continue, to let you reach your climax. Your nails scratched his back like a needy brat as you cried out pleas, “Please - please Shu, I need you to keep going I-” You swallowed thickly, blinking wildly as your core ached without movement and he kept your hips down, unable to fuck yourself on his dick regardless of how hard you tried. “Say you love me.” “W-What?” You gasped out, sweaty and needy but with enough common sense to know that saying something like that to him - even if it was true - would seal a secret deal between lovers, it would open all the nightmares of your very own Pandora’s Box.

But you loved him - you did, somewhere along the way you became enamoured by your stepson and now he was inside of you, fucking you with a tenderness that made you sure that he must love you, too. “I…” You smiled weakly, genuinely. You pulled back ever-so-slightly, (e/c) eyes sinking into his. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that he was finally permitting you to see; he trusted you with his heart, you could see that now. Your hand stroked his cheek, his hard dick still throbbing inside of you (you knew he wanted to keep going but held himself back, resolved to get what he wanted out of you). He melted into the caress, your hands were soft as angel feathers. “I am in love with you, Sakamaki Shu.” Despite the arousal that filled your mind you earnestly tried to convey the true depth of your affections for him and it seemed to awaken the beast of passion as he soon started to bounce you up and down his thick, throbbing member at a speed only vampires could achieve, determined to claim your womb for his own.

It wasn’t hard to notice your maternal longings, your desire to baby the boys despite their inherent aggression towards you all but proved it. And if was a baby you wanted, well...who was he to deny you of that right? His hushed grunts only sent you further into ecstasy - You had the power of feminine sexuality over him and it gave you somewhat of a power rush. It was paradise - not worthless fucking like animals - but true divinity here in his arms, where you felt appreciated and loved and as though you finally had a raison d’etre - You wanted to be his so badly it caused you physical anguish but you were his if only for the moment, connected to him so snugly. “I love you,” You sobbed out as tears welled in your eyes from the intense satisfaction and your own emotions coming to the surface, “I love you, I love you,” Each word sent Shu into a brand new dimension of rapture. You loved him, you loved him - more than anyone else in this world. If binding your bodies together didn’t officially make you his your whimpering confessions just did. The urge to impregnate you with his seed only grew with every passing moment as you mechanically moved in perfect timing to his thrusts, nails once again clawing at his flesh. “That’s a-” He inhaled sharply, stopping mid-moan, “That’s a good girl,” He breathed heavily, you felt so perfect on his dick, his personal cockslut, the love of his life, stepmother and soon; the mother of his children. “F-Fuck you’re going to look...fucking amazing,” He sighed out as he felt your fluttering walls try their hardest to milk him, “When you’re swollen with my troublesome brats, heh…” He could only smugly smile at your immediate reaction to the statement being to clunch down on him, tightening as if your womb was begging him to cum inside, to fertilise your pussy and breed you over and over. “Pregnant?” You exhaled out, teary-eyed as you locked your eyes with him, fucked out to the high heavens with sweat causing your hair to stick to your reddened forehead and lipstick smudged with perky, puffed lips. “Yo-You want to get me pregnant…?” The timidity of your voice betrayed your excitement. Logically you wanted to escape, to push him away and scold him for even suggesting such a thing - you couldn’t become pregnant with his child! It was atrocious enough that you were currently having this affair with him, your stepson, but to be bred by him was in a category all of its own - truly disgusting.

No matter how much your husband neglected you he didn’t deserve to for his wife to not only cheat on him with his own son but to be inseminated by him - but the inner beast within you was wanton, a silent whisper in your mind that tried to persuade you to surrender fully to your hopes for motherhood, to allow this man in front of you, this beautiful vampiric prince, to fill you with his seed and claim you as his bitch, his bride; to be stolen from the man you originally wed and live your eternity as Shu’s whore. “I-...we can’t, Shu! We-” Morals renewed, you tried to get through to him, “Please-” “Shut up.” He ordered and you instantly did as told, being the good girl that you were. “Don’t lie to me. You’re loving the-” He moaned, “-idea of...of my children growing inside of you. I felt you tighten up at the notion, you’re such a fucking lewd woman. My lewd slut.” You hated yourself because you knew he was right; it was true. You wanted this so badly, to give birth to his kin, to feel your uterus painted white with his cum. Primal needs craved relief. “No, we...we can’t, I...don’t…” You choked on your words as he kissed you roughly, his thumb on your clit twirling and pulling until you were unable to form anything more coherent than mindless stutters. “S-Shu! Fuck, fuck, fuck I...I...I love you! I do! I do, please I just...I want-” “What do you want, pretty whore?” “...I want, I w….want your cum! I need it, I need you to fill me up and get me pregnant!” The last remainder of your will crumbled under the pressure of your sudden orgasm. ‘I’m so sorry, Karl…’ you thought bitterly as amazement overtook you, making you screech in the midst of the night in the moonlight, squeezing the lifeforce out of your stepson’s dick. Shu groaned and laughed in dark victory as you came undone around him, biting into his neck instinctively mid-orgasm. The sharp sensation was enough to push him completely over the edge.

Your tongue lapped over his neck, sipping the blood that flowed with delicious fervour as the heat of his semen poured into your deepest depths, coating your womb with his lust. Once you pulled away you felt almost faint from the intensity of your love-making, concupiscence fading as the realisation of what you just did hit you in full force, causing your eyes to open. “Shu..oh fuck, I...we...just--” You squealed and tried to hop off but he kept your hips forced down, still inside your leaking cunt despite slowly growing soft. “No.” Shu was serious, now, eyes grave. “You’re not running away. You,” He exhaled, bringing your lips closer to his, “Are mine.” “Shu-” The distance between your lips was closed as he fought with your tongue. Your heart yearned to return his kiss and despite the inner war ongoing within your soul you did, tongues dancing in the warmth of your mouth. When he pulled away he smiled.

And you felt yourself smile too, hand travelling to the spot below your stomach but above your cunt. “You’re mine now, troublesome woman.” You laughed, nodding and kissed him again. The conflict within you wouldn’t fade, and you were terrified of what might happen now to yourself and to Shu. But maybe it won’t be that bad. It was only one time - you can surely find some form of birth control to ingest before the next time, and he’d never have to know. It was...one time, so you shouldn’t get pregnant this time...right?

Somehow you felt proud - proud to have his cum flowing from your core, to know it’s his seed that potentially is currently fertilising you and not your husband’s. You did feel authentically guilty but the guilt made you more aroused. Karlheinz didn’t deserve...this and despite that here you were, and the worst part was you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop anytime soon, there was no point in vowing to yourself that this would be the ‘last time’ because you knew that the moment he came inside you you were already addicted to him. The child of your lover...realistically it was an awful, unspeakable idea but a sense within you wanted to go through with it, to allow yourself fertility, to fully become his.

Little did you know you would have no choice in the matter.

[theotheroccassionalfanficwriter]

hi! this is just a request but feel free to ignore if you don’t have time or any ideas but could you expend on “between love and lust” mc seducing foul legacy. it can be like a side story or a prequel since it happened before the current timeline.

sorry it took so long lmao law school started already and i'm drowning in cases. Thanks for this ask anon, i forgot about this series even though i already drafter the last chapter lmao, thanks for reminding me it existed hahaha. Anyways here you go, enjoy this unhinged couple lmao.

Prequel to The Consequences of Fucking in Front of the Geo Archon Statue Series: 1, 2, 3

In Love and Lust

Summary: Seeing Foul Legacy for the first time had awakened something in you, in a desperate attempt to hide how inappropriately horny you were, Tartaglia misunderstands your insatiable lust for him as fear.

--

You had always been aware that whatever happened during Tartaglia’s disappearance was life changing. You were prepared for whatever it was when you had pursued this relationship with him, just as you had reassured him you didn’t mind what his job asked of him, you were quite ready to reassure him you didn’t mind his Foul Legacy.

Seeing it for yourself however was another matter entirely.

It changed him. That much you were right.

You just weren’t prepared to see how it changed him.

So there you stood, blinking rapidly in front of your boyfriend who had laid waste to the battlefield amidst Snezhnaya’s white snow. Everything about him was big. His arms, his height,

‘His dic-’

You exhaled, trying to steady your heart and not blurt out something stupid like,

‘Bet I can take you in that form.’

You nodded, your eyes closed as you tried to convince yourself and stop your shaking legs as you took a step forward to your boyfriend’s personal space. All the while chanting inwardly for him to not notice what he just awakened in you.

“Didn’t expect to see you here” You told him, faking calm as you laugh nervously.

‘And wow, his muscles are so close and he’s so warm-’

“Is that so?” He spoke, voice deep, sultry and rumbly that it made your mouth drop and your panties wet.

His face came close to you, your wide eyes and flushed face reflecting on the large white bead on the center. His clawed hands pulled you close, resting gently on the curve of your ass.

You swallowed your saliva as you gently laid your hands on his chest, mind reeling and melting from the sheer force of your horniness for your boyfriend.

“Da-darling?” You gently called him, slight panic in your voice when you felt your warm cloak lifted and the unmistakable sound of your thick stockings being teared.

“Liar.”

In a blink of an eye you found yourself back in your shared apartment. Stockings ripped and panties soaked. Tartaglia was nowhere to be found and you swore loudly,

“At least let me suck your cock!”

You cried into your pillow with frustration as you furiously masturbated and repeatedly came with only your left hand and the vivid image of his Foul Legacy ringing in your mind. You moaned and drooled into the pillow, his lingering scent only fueling your desire and making you blind to Tartaglia’s arrival.

He watched as you fingered yourself, your legs spread wide and exposing your sopping cunt. You were moaning his name, while your free hand played with your nipples. It was a lovely sight that made him hard, it was almost enough to break his reason and make him stuff you full with his cock. Up until he remembered how scared you were earlier when you saw his foul legacy for the first time.

Instead he makes his way to the bathroom, furiously masturbating to the sounds of your moan and wet pussy echoing in the silent apartment. His hand moved up and down his throbbing cock as he imagined your squirming body as you moaned loudly, crying out his name.

He knew your go-to fantasies when masturbating to him, knew the intimate details of your deepest fantasies. So he faps to that, he imagines fucking you in that snow, ripping your clothes and exposing your pliable tits and sopping wet cunt. His cock plunging into your wet pussy, slamming it in and out and stretching it until the sensation left you drooling.

He’d gripped your tits, squeezing it and pinching its perk nipples until your moans are nothing but lewd pants of breath. He’d fuck you from behind, fucking you on all fours like a beast and biting your neck until the skin broke and he tasted blood.

He knew you’d begged for him to stop, even when you’d push your ass towards him, moving your hips in time to the thrusting of his cock. He’d fuck you until you babbled about getting pregnant, your pussy clenching to keep his dick inside. He wouldn’t stop thrusting his cock in and out of you, not even when you would orgasm.

Instead he’d fuck you harder once you told him you were about to come, hands gripping your waist tight as he controlled your body, moving it like a life sized fuck toy meant to relieve his frustrations. He knew how that thought pleases you, the image of you acting like a wanton slut in front of him, was something that never failed to drive him crazy.

His hand, gripping his cock tightened, just as he heard you orgasm from the bedroom. Your lewd voice coupled with his imagination made him cum, thick ropes of cum staining the wall as his hands slowly came to a stop.

Tartaglia sighed, taking a few moments of rest before cleaning up the bathroom. The routine was enough to calm him down, his anger and lust fading away into manageable levels. All of it quickly disappeared when he entered the room and found you passed out on the bed, legs spread wide, pussy dripping and stuffed full with the customized dildo you had made. The dildo was the exact replica of his cock and Tartaglia allowed himself a moment, a single moment of contemplation and acceptance of what being in a relationship with you entailed.

“Nnn...Tartagli..a” You moaned in your sleep.

Then he makes his way to the bathroom he had just cleaned, unzips his pants and begins to furiously masturbate again. In any other time he’d have masturbated to you right then and there, unloading his cum unto your sleeping body, maybe fucking your mouth and spilling his load down your throat but right now the two of you are in the middle of a fight and Tartaglia is petty enough to leave you horny.

--

You woke up the next morning, disappointed that neither your ready pussy nor your mouth had Tartaglia’s cum, your body wasn’t sticky from his dried cum nor was there the pleasant ache of your pussy being used to the fullest. You pout before groaning into the mattress and curling up in sexual frustration.

Tartaglia had a month off.

And you’d rather spend most of it fucking like rabbits, riding his cock, and being stuffed full with his cum. From the sounds outside your apartment window, you knew that at this time, Tartaglia was already in the training grounds.

You sighed before getting up from the bed, not bothering to cover up. You were missing the feeling of walking around the apartment with his cum dribbling down between your thighs. You made your way to the kitchen table, breakfast kept warm and no love note.

You blinked. Searching the entire area for Tartaglia’s customary love note. You frowned, sitting in a daze as you started to realize that something was very wrong.

“Oh no, we’re fighting!” You cried in despair.

You never really liked fighting with Tartaglia, the one that involved cold shoulders and no sex, no intimacy because it was always because you accidentally sent the wrong signal, made social faux pas that even he couldn’t stand and you knew that Tartaglia was the only one who could handle your crazy, your slightly dark tendencies and obsessive personality. Which meant that fights like this always made you want to fix it quickly because you didn’t want Tartaglia to sober up and realize he could do better.

Which meant that there was a need to call up your friends and dissect what you did wrong.

You glance at Tartaglia’s homemade cooking before deciding that the meeting could wait.

While you were enjoying your brunch, Tartaglia was in the training grounds beating up the new recruits and the rest of the Fatui soldiers that were brave enough to step up to fight him. He had slept terribly, missing your comforting weight in his arms and warmth of your body and your cunt warming his cock, he’d masturbated again in the shower, made you breakfast, tempted to fuck you until you woke up while getting dressed and willed his dick down before leaving the apartment.

Tartaglia really, really hated getting into a fight with you. Because it meant that the chances of you waking up and realizing that you could have a normal life were high. His flaws and demerits would outweigh whatever fondness and love you had for him, your childhood sweetheart.

He dreads the day you’d realize you can have stability, because he’d rather not resort to cutting you off from the rest of the world just to keep you by his side. He did his best to ensure you wouldn’t even entertain thoughts of breaking up with him, he catered to your wants and needs because it meant you wouldn’t try to leave. He’d raze the world to the ground if you asked as long as it meant you stayed.

He loved you deeply, darkly, and wholly.

In the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of your familiar lovable and seductive self. And immediately decided to end the spar quickly before any of the recruits got an idea.

He covers your body with his coat, making you wear it properly and hiding the enticing look of your well-endowed body from the virgin killing sweater that you wore. You blinked at him, before you smiled sweetly and devilishly.

“Darling~” You grabbed his arm and he could feel the softness of your breast and Tartaglia knew that you weren’t wearing any bra underneath. He was also willing to bet that you didn’t wear any panties either.

“You-” his words were cut off when he saw your pout, even more so when he felt the fabric of your sweater moved, he looked down and saw that half of your areola were exposed to him.

You smiled at him sweetly, knowing that you’ve already won.

“I missed you so much~” You whined, acting pitiful and cute as you discreetly directed his hand to your lubed up and throbbing pussy.

“I prepared your lunch~” You looked at him from underneath your lashes, drawing attention to your glossed lips, colored pink, and Tartaglia gave up. In a flash, he had brought you home between one breath and the next.

And then you found yourself lying on the bed, you blinked in confusion until you found your arms tied with his jacket, the rest of the sleeves tied to the headboard and you purred in delight.

“Darling~ I’ve been such a good girl right?” You asked coyly, legs already spread and showing him your throbbing pussy, anticipating his thick and long cock fucking you stupid.

Tartaglia didn’t answer before leaving the room with agitation, you spotted his cock straining against his pants and grinned.

You were getting fucked today up until the next day. You smiled pleased at the outcome of the brainstorming you had with your friends. You were so caught up in the euphoria of your apparent success that you forgot who your opponent was. Tartaglia was a trained soldier, a genius in the battlefield and a Harbinger.

He also had the additional boon of knowing you.

Which meant that from the moment you had shown up wearing the virgin killing sweater, he knew that you were planning something. He wasn’t the type to fall for the same trick twice, you wearing the sweater that made both of you graduate from being virgins wouldn’t have the same effect on him again.

Yes, it still drove him mad but compared to the first time you had used it, Tartaglia could keep his wits with him.

So your plan of using a sex potion laced lunch fell through. Tartaglia was sure that he knew what you were planning and decided to use it for his own agenda. A quick survey of the kitchen and he was able to easily deduce where you hid the remaining stash of the potion.

He grinned once he found it and quickly made his way back to you. He whistled at the sight of you, acting like you were in heat. You fluttered your lashes at him and he grinned at you wolfishly.

“I trust that you can recognize this?” He asked as his right hand shook the bottle filled with pink liquid while his left hand deftly unbuckled his pants.

“...Oh” You gulped realizing that you were now playing in the palm of Tartaglia’s hands.

His grin grew sharp, the sight of it sending your pussy throbbing as you bit your lip in anticipation.

“Look at you, being a slut. Is my cock all you can think about?” He teased as his left hand began rubbing his dick, precum dribbling out of his head.

“I also think about your abs and your mouth” You replied, while your eyes stared at his cock, tongue peaking out of your mouth.

He wipes off his precum with his fingers and slowly wiped it on the folds of your pussy, you moaned, moving your hips up to rub against his fingers until they slipped in.

“Hngg!”

His fingers make a quick work out of you, slipping in and out, building a rhythm that had you moaning loudly, until the sound of your pussy’s squelch echoed loudly in the apartment. Your eyes were closed from the pleasure of his calloused fingers rubbing your walls, making you clench and pulsate.

“Cock-Tartagli-a” Your voice shook as you began to beg, “I need your cock inside--!”

You came loudly as his fingers curled and you squirted while his fingers didn’t stop moving inside you. Tartaglia’s fingers were drenched with your juice when he removed it from your pussy, the sheets were drenched with your squirt and you lay limply on the bed.

The top of your sweater were bunched in the middle of your breast, exposing your erect nipples to the cold air and Tartaglia’s hungry eyes. He brought the bottle on top of your twitching pussy, smiled at you and said,

“Congratulations, my beloved slut, you’ll finally be my cumdump today~”

You stared blankly as you watched him open the bottle, spreading your pussy lips and dumping the entire content of the aphrodisiac into your pussy. You struggled once you felt the foreign intrusion of the bottle’s neck, its effect was instantaneous, your protest turned into a moan as you felt your mind become clouded with pleasure.

Tartaglia watched with fascination as he saw your panic melt into euphoria, the look in your eyes was lustful and wanton as you began to loudly beg for his cock. Tears dripping from your face when he only slipped in his fingers,

“Nooo~!” You cried “Cock! I want your cock!”

Your tearful begging was all it took for him to stop teasing you and thrusting his cock inside you. There was no resistance at all from your pussy, his head went inside smoothly, hitting you all the way to your wall, you moaned in pleasure, legs automatically clamping around his waist.

Tartaglia groaned at the wonderful feeling of your heat, a night of not having your pussy warm his cock was enough to drive him insane. He was a fool to not have slept with you last night.

He kissed you fervently, drowning your moans and lustful cries while his hips moved, thrusting his cock back and forth inside your wet and hot pussy. His bare chest rubbed your sensitive nipples as his body rocked back and forth in time with his hips.

“I love you” He whispered in your ears over and over again as he fucked you senseless, like a beast while you clawed at his back, mouth drooling and eyes rolled back from the pleasure.

The aphrodisiac was affecting you both, fucking frenzily to reach new heights of pleasure. Tartaglia came inside you again and again, even so his dick didn’t turn flaccid remaining hard even after multiple orgasm until your pussy felt raw.

Adrenaline rushing to your veins made you not care, you only cared about two things, Tartaglia and his cock. Your pussy was filled to the brim, abused with Tartaglia’s thick cock that repeatedly dumped his cum on your loose pussy.

Time passed but the sounds of sex didn’t stop as day turned into night.His coat was torn and your clothes turned into rags, Tartaglia had changed your position, fucking your from behind, with your ass up, thick ropes of cum, dried and drying covered your ass and back, some of it dripping from your pussy, others coating your legs and face.

He had truly turned you into his cum dump.

“Such a good slut!” Tartaglia praised as he thrusted into you, his cock pushing out his old cum from your pussy, “so good for me!”

His praise made you so happy, your back arching to give him a better angle. You clenched on his cock as he came again, milking him of his cum.

Tartaglia slipped his cock out, shushing you gently when you whined from the empty feeling. He observed your pussy, your whole was loose enough that he could see how much cum was inside you, your clit and labias were covered with dripping cum, your asshole twitching and overflowing with his earlier cum.

He smiled, “ Looks like you can easily take my cock in foul legacy form”

“No-no! It’s too big!” You cried out in panic, covering your pussy.

Your fearful eyes, hiding the lust behind it made him hornier. He smiled and transformed.

You watched with your own eyes as he donned his armor, eyes staring at his cock that grew larger before it was covered by leather. You gulped.

‘Was that a knot?’ you thought as you felt your pussy grow wetter.

“I promise I’ll be gentle”

His monstrous cock was before your eyes, it made your mouth water and then he began with fucking your mouth. You felt him reach all the way back until he hit your throat, pleasure and pain mixing together as you tried not to gagged as he used your mouth. His cock was huge and thick, veins throbbing as you did your best to blow him.

You cried as you weakly clung to his clothes, slowly losing your mind to the pleasure. He came inside your mouth, cum pouring down your throat as he gently pulled out, you closed your eyes and tried to gather the excess that dribbled from your mouth to your palm.

“Swallow it” He ordered and you happily, greedily obeyed.

Even the cum on your hand was drunk, it was thick and delicious, sweet. You opened your mouth, tongue hanging out for him to see your obedience.

His clawed hands gently ruffled your head, the pointed tips scratching your head and awakening something in you.

“Now take my cock” He said as he lifted you up and then plunged your pussy to his erection.

You moaned loudly, your stomach bulging out from his cock.

“Too much~” You cried, even as you began to move your hips, “you’re too big! I-it won’t fit inside!”

You moaned as his clawed hands helped you move up and down, making your breasts jiggle with each motion as you begged for mercy even though your body was honestly enjoying his cock.

He slipped his cock outside of your pussy, rubbing your cum covered clit and reaching all the way to your cum drenched tits.

“Nooo! Don’t take it out!” You begged in tears.

It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Reason was thrown out of the window and he mounted you, pushing his cock all the way in, a miracle, that had you crying out in pleasure as he fucked you raw.

His old cum was pushed out with each thrust, clawed hands pressing on your back and holding your hips like you were a living fleshlight. Your lewd voice begging him for more as he ripped away the rest of your torn clothes.

He reached out for him, drawing him close until his mask opened and a long pointed tongue came out and entangled with yours. You made out with Foul Legacy as cock fucked your pussy raw, scraping out the cum until you came over and over again. Your thighs were drenched again, the bed shaking enough for the headboard to bang against the wall loudly.

Between your numerous orgasms you passed out just as he came inside you, flooding your womb and pussy with his cum, most of it ending up on the sheets and dripping down your pussy. He pulled out and began to fuck your thighs, bedframe creaking from the sheer force of his thrust until it broke as he spurted out and covered your entire body with his cum.

He panted heavily, engraving in his mind your blissed out expressions when you fainted from the pleasure.

‘Tomorrow, we’ll talk about your reaction when you first saw me,’ He thought as he gently lifted you up from the broken bed and made his way to the living area ‘but for now I need to get all of this out of our system.’

You woke up the next morning, face down on the table as you felt your body rocking.

“Good morning, love”

Tartaglia’s voice came from behind as you arched your back and moaned from having a dick thrusted into your sore pussy.

“Ngh!”

You turned around and found yourself staring at Tartaglia’s maskless Foul Legacy form, his eyes were slanted, and hair spiked up in soft waves.

He laughed at you softly, “Have you fallen for me again?”

“Darling~ You’ve ruined me for everyone else!” You cried as you let him see how much he affected you.

He grinned and you moaned in pleasure, when his head hit your g-spot.

“We broke the bed, so the table would have to do” He explained as he began to fuck you over the table, you were too lost in the pleasure to hear his explanation.

But he was in the same predicament as well, all thoughts of talking were gone, the moment he began fucking you as he slept. At this point, the entire apartment reeked of sex and yet neither of you remembered or cared.

Other things could wait.

[crack-whore-who-fuckedup-already]

The Man Needs His Cat

Bucky x fem!reader

Word count: 1,960

Warnings: mentions of animal death, fluff, Tony/Bucky interaction

Summary: Bucky and Reader stumble across a kitten in the woods and Reader is tasked with asking Tony for a huge favor. 

A/N: y'all- I'm head over heels in love with catperson!Bucky

The situation had to be dealt with carefully, (Y/n) knew. She didn't want to come on too strong or he'd be quick to turn her down. Maybe a hypothetical would be the best course of action... She took a breath and pulled her shoulders back. Then, with only a second of hesitation, she entered Tony's lab. 

He greeted her from his hunched over position at one of the many cluttered tables, barely sparing her a glance. In the heat of engineering, he worked on some odd piece of tech he had yet to fully present to the team. She echoed a small 'hello' back and rocked awkwardly back and forth on her feet. 

Still not looking up, Tony indulged the girl with idle conversation. They spoke of their day, of current world news, of the weather. That's how he knew she wanted something. The girl would always engage him in casual conversation just before asking a favor. Tony didn't mind much, of course. If anything, he found it entertaining how intently she tried buttering him up. But today he had quite a bit of work to get done so he wanted to get this show on the road. 

Putting his tools down, he looked at her pointedly with a knowing grin. "Alright kid, what's up?" He asked.

(Y/s)'s eyebrows raised in question, playing dumb. "What do you-" 

"Drop the act, (Y/n)," he chuckled, and grabbed an already greasy rag off the desk next to him to wipe his hands. He stood and made his way to her, tossing the rag back on one of the several tables in the lab. "I know when you want something, so just go on. Ask." He said, his face light with a smirk.

(Y/n) flushed with warmth, embarrassed by his boldness. But she continued anyway, determined to fulfill her promise to Bucky. 

The night before, she and Bucky were on their way home from the movies. It was a beautiful night out and in their comfortable silence, they found themselves on a slight detour through the woods. At some point, Bucky had pulled over off the side of the road and onto a look out.

Bucky, ever the silent communicator, simply stared at (Y/s) confused face with the softest smile on his own, before stepping out of the car. While (Y/n) scrambled to open her door, Bucky walked the couple of feet towards a barrier fence overlooking the river beneath him. His eyes followed the shine of the water as it drowned the boulders lining the river bed. He thought for a second how exciting the challenge of rock hopping sounded, never really having gotten the chance to as a child.

The call of an owl pulled his attention to the tree line which he observed with such intensity that (Y/n) nudging his arm made him tense. She flashed him a smile to calm the surprise on his face and in an instant, his arm was around her, pulling her close. They both looked out at the shadowed woods and (Y/n) was even sure to point out the moon and stars themselves. 

In the silent moments that passed, they both had turned to embrace each other wholly. They stayed like that for a moment and then Bucky pressed a kiss to her forehead. Pulling back to look at his warm, loving face, she found acute concern instead. He was glancing just past her head, off into the bush leading down to the river bank. 

"What's the mat-" she asked quietly, shrinking away. 

Bucky pressed his fingers to his lips and hushed her quickly and gently and then slowly gestured to his ear. Listen, he was telling her. 

She didn't hear anything at first. Nothing but the rush of the river below them and the gentle night breeze above them.

But then, just as she was about to ask again, she heard it. The faintest of mewling. Barely audible but definitely there. 

Bucky grasped her shoulders and looked her in the eyes once more before he squeezed them tightly and moved past her. He approached the thicket and hesitated for only a second before pressing forward. The branches hurt his skin but he'd suffered worse.

(Y/n) tentatively called his name to which he responded "I've almost got it." His voice sounded distant and strained and it worried (Y/n) that she could no longer see him through the darkness, being so close to the river and all. But as long as she could hear his grunts of discomfort from the branches whacking him in the face, she remained calm enough. 

Eventually, he emerged. Even in the dark, (Y/n) could see the pure white fluff sticking out between Bucky's fingers. As he approached, the fuzz ball revealed its face from its careful hiding spot in the crook of Bucky's arm and glanced around. Two dark eyes and the palest little nose swung in her direction, its whiskers twitching with cautious curiosity.

A kitten.

The poor thing was trembling but so was Bucky. Placing a hand on his forearm, she beckoned his attention and spoke low.

"What was it?"

To bide his time, he shifted the kit closer to his chest and took a deep breath. He didn't meet her eyes but he mumbled just loud enough to hear.

"A whole box of them but…." He didn't dare finish the sentence and instead held the kitten in front of his face, ignoring the unwarranted feeling of loss he felt for its siblings. Swallowing hard, he finally met the girls soft, understanding eyes and smiled sadly. 

Before she could say anything, the small creature let out another indignant mewl that seemed to reassure Bucky just a bit. With that, (Y/n) moved to his side and slung her arm around his waist.

"Alpine," he mumbled.

"What's that?"

"I think I'll call him Alpine." Bucky said fondly. His eyes never left the baby and the girl knew he was in deep.

"Oooh, I know that look." She tittered. Bucky only stared, his eyebrow creased, questioning. "That's the way you look at someone you love. That's the way you look at me." She said with a blush, nudging him lightly.

His face melted into that soft loving one she cared for so dearly. The kitten settled into the warmth that embraced him as the couple kissed.

"Let's get a move on. It's getting colder and colder by the second and I'm sure this little guy agrees." The kitten mewled one last time.

With a light chuckle, they spared one last glance over the look out before returning to the car where Alpine slept peacefully in Bucky’s lap the whole way home.

The two couldn't help but discuss what they were going to do with little Alpine. Bucky was set on keeping it and had even decided to clear his schedule the next day to make a vet visit. The only issue was their living space. They weren't too sure how Tony would react to them bringing a cat in off the street. But the girl could see how much the kitten meant to Bucky already so she promised to talk to Tony in the morning. 

Well, morning came and now here she was.

Tony crossed his arms impatiently. "Well?" He pressed, tilting his head up.

(Y/n) anxiously grasped her hands in front of her and leaned forward a bit. "What would you say to the idea of us getting a pet?" She stared openly at his face as he stared back at hers. The question bounced around in Tony's head, leaving his eyebrow slightly creased and the room painfully quiet. (Y/s)' nervously raised eyebrow gave him a clue into the situation.

"Right….and who exactly is this 'us' you're referring to? Cause something tells me I'm actually being iced out of this decision." Before she could even get a full breath in, he continued on. "All right, what are we working with, huh? A rabbit? A goldfish? If it's a parakeet, it won't even get past the front door, so help me god." 

The girl shook her head as she let out a laugh. She could tell he wasn't overly fond of the idea. It was clear by the way his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. But judging by the way his voice didn't fall completely flat, he wasn't opposed to it either….not entirely, anyway.

"No, no. Not quite. It's a cat. A kitten, actually, so there's still time to train it and all," She reassured him. "And Bucky should be getting home any minute from the vet with him if you'd like to say hello."

Tony caught himself before he let his expression drop at the name of the elusive ex soldier. He'd gotten better at watching himself since the two of them moved in. Bucky and (Y/n) weren't together when they did, but being only a few steps down the hallway certainly allowed them a closer relationship.

Tony nodded his head reluctantly and dropped his arms to his sides. 

He followed the girl down the various halls as she recounted how they found the poor kit, and found themselves approaching the common room. Or the family room, as (Y/n) preferred to call it, while simultaneously prattling on about how much time and energy the team wastes pretending to hate each other. Huh.

They could hear the tinkling of a bell being wacked around from down the hallway. As they entered the room, they stopped in the archway and took in the sight before them. 

Bucky sat crisscrossed with his back to them. In his hand was a feather wand, standing out bright purple, blue, and white against the dark brown floor. In front of him, white fluff darted back and forth. There was the smallest sound of tearing as its tiny claws ripped against the carpet, no doubt leaving it frayed.

Tony tried his very best to suppress his dissatisfied grumble...

They watched for a bit as Bucky went back and forth with the kitten. Tony didn't have to look hard at all to see how much the ex soldier cared for the tiny thing. No only because of his undivided attention towards the cat but also because of the many beige bags labeled "PetsPlus+"  full of toys, treats and towers scattered around the sofas. 

He thought it might be good for Bucky to have another companion around. Maybe it would help him relax. Maybe even lighten up a bit.

Tony stepped forward.

"So, uh, I'm not a big fan of funky smells so that's got to be top priority as far as pest control goes with this thing, alright?"

Bucky jumped to his feet and Alpine followed suit, hackles raised. Bucky quickly scooped him up and held him close. "Of course." (Y/n) made her way over to them. "Our rooms are big enough to keep him there most of the time and we have already worked out all the responsibilities between us. We've got it covered."

Tony stepped back a bit looking them up and down, humming. "I expect weekly visits in the family room," he said pointedly, then waved his hand. "Keep it tidy, folks." And with that he left the couple to their new fascination.

Tony lingered at the doorway on the way out. While the couple was distracted, he found himself watching that wretched arm. The dark, intimidating metal turned soft and gentle as it reached out fearlessly to antagonize the tiniest, weakest thing in the room. No hesitation, no fear. Not in Bucky or the kitten. Tony knew then that it stayed, no question.

The man needed his cat. And damn it, he'll get it.

[sombreboy]

FLESH⇢yandere!kth&pjm [E]

⇢ 18+ | Explicit ⇢ xtremity; 10 ⇢ pairing: kth & pjm x female reader ⇢ serves as a part two of Friends, but can be read individually. ⇢ genre: yandere, smut, gore ⇢ word count: 6.7k ⇢ warnings: my brain hah | bloodplay | use of razorblade/cutting on y/n’s body | dubcon smut | bloody biting | scratching/nail marks | oral choking | spanking | drugging y/n (not unconscious.) | she’s basically theirs to use as they wish | straight up noncon ending as it includes major character death.(hint; it’s y/n.) | kind of soft tho despite the fact that y/n literally dies. | also slight mxm moments but at this point that warning is so tame compared to the previous. | Jm calls KTH hyung in this ok its not a typo in this world he’s older just roll w it xoxo 

You are reading this at your own discretion and with many warnings for very explicit content involving triggering themes. This is purely a fictional guilty pleasure. I enjoy writing these things, but it does not reflect my real life desires or morals.. Thank you for reading, it’s been a while since I posted anything of my own. I’ve had this idea in mind since last summer, and it’s been a long time before I was finally able to finish it. Honestly, it probably would’ve never been finished if it wasn’t for the fact that lovely @chimoona​ hyped me and helped me out when I felt like I was stuck. Hope you love it. xoxo

Taehyung and Jimin’s twisted obsession with you mixes with their insatiable sadistic desires of having your life under their control.

This time, they take it too far.

They believed in forever, they really did. And technically, they weren’t wrong. 

You’d been their plaything for what did feel like an eternity. Not that you mind, you’ve grown to love them and what they do to you. With time, they grew to trust you wholly, and at some point they allowed you to roam their house freely, knowing you wouldn’t attempt to escape. You do not recall when you'd forgotten about your old life, and only knew the one you shared with Taehyung and Jimin. You didn’t want to leave, your life was dedicated to them, content in your current position as their property. To please them in every way you knew how and were taught to, to comfort them when they’re having a rough day... They did provide everything you have, after all. 

They loved you so much. So fucking much it was so utterly painful. To the point that they were struggling to show you just how much.

Showing sweet affection naturally came easier from Jimin. He was softer, more gentle with the way he handled you. He absolutely loved to spoil you with hugs, kisses, and sweet words to no end… 

Taehyung, however, was cold as ice. You knew he loved you too, likely even more than Jimin did. He wouldn’t show it in the same ways, often struggling with being gentle. So, he would show you his affection the only way he knew how; Fucking you. 

The harder he fucked you, the more he loved you. His love was aggressive, and his self control often went way out of hand, especially as of late. He loved you more when he hurt you. Sometimes, Jimin had to stop him from going too far; although it was obvious that he enjoyed watching Taehyung handle you this way for as long as he allowed himself before his empathy forced him to step in...

You smoothed your fingers over the purple bruises on your neck, shaped in the form of Taehyung’s strong fingers. Standing in the quiet kitchen, you peered out the window, watching their car pull up on the driveway. A rush of adrenaline pumped through your veins, because you knew they were hungry. Not for food, but for you.

It was late at night, they usually worked late. You never knew exactly what they did for a living, and at this point you didn’t dare to ask. All you knew was that they made enough to provide. It was hell for them to be away from you, sometimes for days at a time; so when they came home, there was only one thing on their mind.

~~~

The few seconds it took for the door to swing open, the quick scurrying of your feet thudded against the floor, rushing to greet them with a smile. Jimin sprung on his feet to embrace you in a tight hug, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He inhaled deeply, as if it was the remedy he’s been craving.

“Kitten..” Jimin purred against your skin, placing hungry kisses along your collarbone. You gasped quietly, relishing in how his pillowy lips soothed the aching on your skin. “Jimin… I missed you.”

Taehyung didn’t say anything, just placed his duffel bag on the floor with a thud after locking the front door behind them. It took a moment before he joined in the hug, taking his place behind you to hug tightly. He grazed his lips against the nape of your neck, drawing another soft gasp from you.

“Taehyung.” You whispered as you melted into the touch between both of your men. “I missed you too.”

“My doll.” Taehyung murmured, his hands roaming down the curve of your waist before they settled on your hips, squeezing hard. He pressed his crotch against your ass, as if to tell you he missed you as well, if the hardness beneath the fabric of his pants were anything to go by.

“It’s time to play.” He stated firmly. It wasn’t a question, but a command, to the both of you.

“Yes.” Jimin agreed, his kisses travelling up your jaw to finally meet your lips in a sweet kiss. He pulled back to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Tonight felt different.

~~~

“Fuck, you look so pretty, doll. Isn’t she just exquisite, Jimin?”

“Yeah. She is perfect.”

The familiar words in each ear coaxed shivers to run down your spine. The deja vu brought back the faint memories of their first night with you, a night of fear mixed with arousal. Tonight, that feeling was back. Your bittersweet piece of heaven and hell in one room, ready to play with you to their heart’s content.

You were laid on your back in their large bed, dressed up in their favorite red lingerie like a full course meal for them to play with and devour, wrists tightly tied above your head against the barred headboard. The chain was loose, allowing you to be moved around on the bed, however not long enough for you to actually be able to get out of it. But you didn’t attempt to move. They were always in charge, this was second nature to you by now.

“P-please…” Your hushed voice was barely audible, head moving side to side, unable to see where in the room they were. It wasn’t unusual for them to do it like this, they loved to blindfold you, giving you absolutely no power to ever predict what they'd do or where they’d touch…

“Oh, kitten’s begging.” Jimin sounded like he wanted to ease your desperation. He always did, he loved to give you what you wanted, to spoil you with love and pleasure.

“Let her.” Taehyung huffed, a lot less sweet in his tone. He stood by the foot of the bed, slowly unbuckling his pants. The clacking sound of the belt had your body quivering in anticipation. “Come here, Jimin. Don’t touch her yet.”

“Yes.” Jimin obliged to Taehyung, always did.. well, most of the time. Sometimes there were moments where Jimin would disobey for fun, but reading the room of how tonight’s ambience was around Tae, the blonde knew that tonight wasn’t the time to be a brat. He needed to be a good boy, just like you needed to be a good girl. There was a fire in Taehyung’s dark eyes that ignited when Jimin approached him and dropped to his knees by the bed without hesitation. Jimin looked up at Tae with anticipation, wetting his plush upper lip with his pink tongue.

“Is this what you need?” Jimin asked quietly, as if he didn’t already know the answer by the impressive bulge fighting the fabrics of Taehyung’s pants..

Taehyung didn’t bother to answer, instead tugging down his pants and underwear in one go to kick them to the side, grabbing the shaft of his hefty length with one hand and Jimin’s blonde curls in the other.

“Make it hard.” 

With parted, damp lips, Jimin doesn’t leave a second wasted to brace his hands on his thighs, leaning in to take Taehyung’s thick length into his mouth. His tongue had become skilled after countless times training himself to please the man just the way he liked it, swirling around the tip and moving forward to take inch after inch down his throat.

“Hmpf…” Taehyung’s breathy voice was prominent in the quiet room, humming in content while he watched the blonde’s plump lips stretch around his girth. His cock became slick with spit, more each time Jimin moved back and forth, sucking messily until it became hard to breathe, cock fully erect and filling every inch of the smaller man’s delicate mouth.

When Jimin deemed that he’d done more than enough to fulfill the command he was given, he pulled back with a wet pop, gasping for air to soothe the burning in his lungs from holding it too long for his comfort. He liked it though, and it didn’t go unnoticed when his own erection pressed between his thighs, aching for attention. 

With a flick of Taehyung’s wrist, Jimin follows orders to move towards the bed, to you. The weight of Jimin’s body as it sunk into the bed next to you made you flinch, lolling your head to the side in his direction, cheek resting on the soft pillow they’d provided you with. You couldn't see, but you could hear Jimin’s soft breathing next to you until he spoke.

“Been a while since you dressed her up, Tae. She looks pretty.”

“Special occasion.” Taehyung’s lips twitched into the most faint of smiles. It was special indeed. He would occasionally dress you up in pretty fits that suited his tastes, to feed his visual desires. To him, undressing you from something tasteful and taunting was part of his foreplay. It drove him mad with lust seeing you writhe, helpless and in want for more--or less.

“Mhm.” Jimin agreed mindlessly, his gentle hand reached out to catch a strand of your hair between his fingers. It got stuck when he combed through it, but he tugged the little knots loose, drawing a quiet whine from you in return. “Sorry kitten.”

“Ah, it’s.. It’s okay.” You smiled, although your lower lip trembled when you heard the rustling of tools of various materials from the other side of the bed. “Tae?” You asked quietly, timid as if you weren’t sure you were allowed to speak, but did so anyway, “What are you--”

“I don’t recall speaking to you, doll.” Taehyung’s stern baritone echoed in the dim room, immediately silencing your words. You sucked in a harsh breath, feeling your nerves come to life, not even able to be soothed by the calming motion of Jimin stroking your cheek.

You couldn’t even muster to apologize, knowing all that the man wanted from you was utter silence. So, you obliged without a single word.

“I don’t care for your apologies. If you’re sorry, silence speaks louder.” Taehyung murmured, and more rustling is heard from where his hands are pulling out item after item to place on the duvet, surrounding your lying form. “I want to play, and I will not accept any objections.”

Silence followed, and both you and Jimin seemed to have frozen in place when the deafening silence filled the room.

“Understood?” Taehyung sounded different. It was incredibly subtle, but Jimin sensed it. There was no space left for any objections towards what Taehyung wanted. It was his way, and his way only. And the mere thought of defying his orders had a chill run down Jimin’s spine.

“Yes.” Jimin meekly replied, nudging your side. There was no use in disagreeing with the man in charge, especially not when he’s like this.. 

“Y-yes.” You automatically whined, although a bit confused to what it meant. Why was this any different than any other time he’d play with you? 

You had an idea by the energy both men gave off, one of intensity and arousal, but something else lingered in the air when they spoke. You were soon to find out..

~~~

“G-gah, T-Tae—! Please, no more..”

“One more, you can do it.” Taehyung purred as he buried his face back between your spread legs, using a flattened tongue to lap up the sticky residue of your precious orgasms. How many times he’d made you cum, you’d lost count at this point. It felt like there was no end to Taehyung’s hunger tonight, as he’d barely done anything but eat you out until your muscles were trembling with exhaustion.

“I can’t, I can’t— stop, please…” You cried out as it began to hurt, eyes screwed shut as your body shakes into another orgasm— just like he said you could.

“Mmm, what a pretty kitten you are.” Jimin praised from the side, toying with your supple breasts and marking your neck with tender sucks. Wet smacks from where he touched himself to the sounds you made is heard, and you’re yet to see any of it. “Cumming so much, he knows exactly how to make you feel good.”

Hot, snappy breaths pushed past your lips when you desperately tried to gather yourself for the umpteenth time, only to feel the dip of Taehyung repositioning himself in the bed, kneeling between your legs. You felt his large hands hook behind your knees, pushing your legs up to your chest to expose your slick cunt for him to see. You felt hot, as if his gaze alone was burning into you— even with a blindfold on, you sensed it.

When Taehyung lined up his thick cock with your entrance, you began to squirm. You’re sensitive, and normally you’d be worked up to take Jimin first to ensure you’re stretched enough to take the size of Taehyung. However, this time, all you could rely on was the fact that your cunt was lubricated from your previous orgasms.

“Don’t move so much.” Taehyung muttered, holding onto your legs tighter as he advanced his hips forward, pushing slowly to fill you with his cock. He’s thick, and although he’s going slow, the stretch of his length parting your flesh makes you bite down on your lower lip, squirming harder on the bed. Taehyung felt himself twitch inside of you, liking the reactions you give him a bit too much.

“Does she feel good, Tae?” Jimin seeked praise in your place, knowing you wouldn’t ask for it-- you wouldn’t dare. He fists his own length, laying on his side next to you as he placed his warm cheek on your shoulder, providing you with his soothing presence in the middle of your discomfort. But, you loved it. Loved it all. So you aimed to please, knowing this is just the way the two showed their different types of love for you.

“She’s tight.” Taehyung confirms in his own way, that you did indeed feel amazing. If the lust lacing his tone wasn’t proof enough, the flexing muscles in his arms as he grasped you tighter, and the greedy way he stroked his cock in and out of you, lowly grunting, should be enough. He doesn’t always say it outright, but he probably enjoyed it even more than the two of you did. 

“It’s because your dick is so big..” Jimin chuckled lowly, but his smile is quickly wiped away, morphed into an expression of pleasure when he hears you whine into his ear in pain. Taehyung had picked up the pace, plunging his cock into you roughly, all too sudden of a built up without little warning. His sadistic desires ramp up the hotter the moment, and tonight’s plans seemed to be nothing but sweet. “Don’t break her.”

“Why?” Taehyung’s sharp eyes flicker over to Jimin, who stares right back with hazy eyes. The blonde stroked himself faster, smiling. Your cries were growing louder as Taehyung fucked into you harder, still staring Jimin down, a smirk growing on his lips. Your body jolted upwards with every thrust, moans breaking into whiny sobs at the painful prod of his thick, swollen tip slamming into you over, and over, and over. “She’s mine.”

“But also mine.” Jimin countered, making his point by smoothing his free hand up your collarbones, until he reached your neck. He wrapped his palm around it, squeezing gently to force you to gasp. The blonde looked back at Tae with a lopsided smile, knowing it’d taunt him.

“Ours.” Taehyung threw his head back with a groan, feeling the way your slick flesh constricted around his length when Jimin took a chokehold on you. It spurred the man on to bury his cock deeper, grinding his hips into you. “If you’re gonna choke her, do it properly.”

Taehyung suddenly pulled out of you, and Jimin knew to let go to allow him to flip your body over, lifting your hips to make you stand on all fours. He entered you again, fully bottoming out in one quick stroke that parted your stretched cunt, smacking his pelvis against your reddening cheeks.

Jimin exchanged a look with Tae, who nudged his chin in your direction as if to tell him to ‘use her mouth, go on.’

Jimin didn’t need to be told twice to spur into action, and his quick understanding through a silent exchange pleased Taehyung immensely. The blonde positioned himself in front of you, on his knees, perfectly aligning the slick head of his cock with your lips. You clenched around Tae, drawing a low groan from the man behind you, which in turn spurred him to snap his hips forward roughly. 

“Kh--Tae… mmff..” The moment your lips parted to moan out his name, Jimin took full advantage of your vulnerable position. He grasped your hair into his delicate fist and tugged you towards him, giving you no other choice but to take him into your mouth. Muffled whines got caught in your throat, and tears quickly welled up beneath the blindfold to stain the fabrics where your eyes were hidden. Compared to Taehyung, Jimin wasn’t as big, nor was he as rough. But the sudden intrusion without the anticipation from seeing what would happen, it caught you by surprise. You gagged around his pretty girth the deeper he went, earning a canary moan from Jimin.

Taehyung keeps his eyes on Jimin throughout their exchange of momentum, rocking your body back and forth for their own amusement and pleasure. However, that doesn’t exclude you from taking just as much pleasure from it. Both their lengths filled you so well, swelling inside of you with need.

“Jimin,” Taehyung’s strained baritone commands the blonde’s attention, “Look at me.”

Jimin rocked his hips to bury his cock past your gag reflex, earning a garbled squeak. He didn’t hear Tae right away, but the stern command snapped his attention directly to the man in charge. His starry dark eyes swirled with adoration as they settled on the familiar form. 

“Hyung.” He’s breathless, all thanks to you. He can barely muster a response beyond a sigh.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Taehyung smirked, thrusting your body forward to take Jimin deeper, “Make some more noise for me.”

By the power of Tae pressing your body forward, Jimin is saved from all the work. He carded his fingers through your matted hair and grabs it tight at the back of your head while holding his eyes on his partner. He didn’t hold back a single whimper or throaty moan. Whatever the man requested was his pleasure to provide. Lip clamped tight between his teeth, taut, staining the delicate skin until blood drained from the surface. Strangled breaths huffed out through his flared nostrils until he let it out in an angelic sigh. 

“It’s g-good, Hyung. Kitten’s mouth is so hot...tight. A..ah.”

Thighs trembled to hold still, itching to pulse in until you’re choking, but he lets Tae take the lead. Plus, it would take a lot more to make you squirm, as badly as he would have liked to when you constricted around him. The two men had trained you to their exact tastes, to hold your breath as they indulge in the warmth of your body with greed. 

“Good boy… If only you could see yourself right now.” Taehyung scoffed between labored breaths. His nails dug into your hips as he spoke, smiling wolfishly when your body reacted just the way he wanted; squirming, squeezing his cock tighter while simultaneously muffled whimpers are choked back down your throat when Jimin rutted forward, every little rocking of his hips forcing tears down your pretty cheeks, “She’s already choking, you must be so hard. All ready to cum, hm?”

“Please,” he sighed dreamily with tears pricking the corners of his eyes. His pleas sung a different tune, as his lips curled to a devilish smirk. Normally he might have asked for permission when Tae felt aggressively dominant, but in the end, he wanted what he wanted. His high krept over him, making it nearly impossible to succumb to his carnal desires.

“Wanna make our pretty girl even prettier...” He huffed sweetly, withdrawing his sopping cock and stroking it in his hand. “I-I’m…” Before Tae could say or do anything about it, Jimin pressed his tip against your lips and released warm spurts of cum. More whines as his own hand over stimulated, pumping everything he had onto your flawless face--over your cheeks, dripping off your chin. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel everything. The sticky, hot substance as it slid down your skin, the faint pulses of Jimin’s tip against your lips. But most of all, you could hear his pretty vocal fry as it broke into whiny moans.

“You weren’t supposed to..” Taehyung muttered, but he didn’t sound mad. Not even annoyed. It was merely an inconvenience to his initial train of thought, “Whatever,” he huffed, figuring that was the cue to move on. He stopped fucking you, pulling out and leaving you trembling on the bed as he took a break. Getting up on his feet, he walked around the bed towards Jimin’s sitting form on the edge, “Short break. I’m gonna get water, you soothe our doll for the next phase of playtime.”

“Okay,” Jimin wiped the sheen of sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand, watching Tae leave the room. He looked down at you, eyes softened at the sight. You’re catching your breath, lungs burning slightly from doing so well without any air, and body trembling slightly from being fucked hard and deep. Marks were left on your waist and hips in the shape of Tae’s fingers and nails. He always had a thing with marking you in various ways, “Kitten.”

“Jimin.” You breathed out quietly when you heard his soothing voice, rolling on your back to rest. You felt the warmth of his body as he laid down next to you, a gentle hand soothing up your stomach, between your breasts, and in the end, softly wrapping around your neck in a subtle possessive reminder. It wasn’t hard, but that didn’t mean his fingers didn’t speak for him when he grazed his nails against your flushed skin. You belong to us. 

“You’re doing well, I promise.” Jimin kissed your shoulder, avoiding to touch your cum-stained face. He knew that although Tae didn’t say it, he enjoyed it when you look like a total mess.

“W-where did he go?”

“Just getting some water.” He withdrew, smiling when you whined at the loss of his warmth. “I need to prepare you now.”

“How?”

“We don’t need these chains anymore, I know that much.” Jimin muttered, moreso to himself than to you. He clicked open the locks around your wrists, and didn’t do much more than that. Your confusion was evident even through a blindfold.

Before you were able to say much else, Taehyung’s powerful presence reemerged.. Footsteps echoed outside the room, door closing behind him with the heel of his foot. Two bottles in his hands, he threw one to Jimin, who caught it effortlessly. He was about to drink it, but Tae’s stern expression told him otherwise.

“It’s for her. You just take a few sips. It’ll calm her down.”

Jimin looked at the bottle, shaking the clear plastic to notice the small particles floating in it. It’s spiked. Probably something to make you even more compliant, and less likely to struggle if things were too much. But you were already so well trained for them, willingly doing anything they wanted. The blonde was confused, looking back at Tae with a crooked brow, shaking the bottle further to bring the attention back to the drugs.

“Is it really necessary?” Jimin asked, opening the cap nonetheless to bring it to your parched lips as you sit up, “For me as well?”

“Yes.” Taehyung's answer was simple, straight to the point. And Jimin didn’t feel like pressing the matter nor argue any further, especially not after already using up Tae’s patience by cumming all over your face without being instructed to. Jimin knew he could only misbehave so many times before it would bring him consequences. So, he simply fed you the bottle, almost the entire thing in one go. The muscles in your throat danced alluringly with every swallow, some spilling down your chin when you couldn’t keep up with the speed of which you were given. When there was only a small amount left, Jimin withdrew the bottle from your lips and brought it to his own. His eyes met Taehyung’s, maintaining fixed eye contact while he chugged down the last drops. 

The way I trust you, Jimin mused to himself as he threw the bottle aside. He didn’t even know what exactly Tae had contaminated the water with, but blindly drank it because he was told to. Even gave a large amount to you… but Jimin was confident in doing so, aware that Tae would never, ever give you something that wouldn’t be beneficial for them in the end.

“She seems content.” Tae muttered while he circled the bed, bottle pressed to his lips occasionally for a hydrating sip. 

“Gave her some care. She immediately wondered where you’d gone.” Jimin touched your thigh, stroking it soothingly as he watched your chest slow down, as if you were calmed down immediately. “Is she gonna fall asleep? That’s no fun…”

“If she’s just gonna lay there, she will.” Tae leaned over the bed to spank your thigh, the sudden contact jolting your body to life. “She deserved a short rest, but now I’m getting impatient.” He turned to look Jimin in the eye, his dark pupils resembled that of a hungry predator. “Okay?”

“Okay, hm… Hyung?” Jimin used the title coyly, knowing it always worked on Taehyung. While he still had his attention, he asked, “Why did you want me to drink it as well? Even if it was just a little.”

“Makes you feel good. Doesn’t it?” Taehyung’s lips tugged into a small smile, one that of mischief. “You’ll need it.”

Jimin nodded, not questioning further. He was right, it did feel good as he felt the hint of the drugs in his system, as if it calmed him down and made him feel lighter. Tipsy, unhinged.. and then some. He could only imagine how good you must be feeling right now.

“Let’s continue.” Taehyung placed his half emptied water on the bedside table, reaching down the bag on the floor to rustle out some tools-- his toys, if you please. 

He pulled out a small razor, angling it back and forth to stare right into his own dark, sharp gaze. He smiled, testing the efficiency of the blade by grazing it against his palm without a flinch as it split his skin delicately. Red seeped out the small slit, causing the man to bite his lower lip. It excited him, and he had no shame displaying just how thrilled he is by the way his cock twitched back to life.

“Bring her over,” he spoke cooly, still staring at the micro cut across his palm rather than at the two of them. He sat on the bed with his legs spread and patted his lap. “Right here.”

Jimin knew better than anyone what Tae had in store for their doll. There’s a part of himself that finds excitement in observing it happen. Not having a hand in the destruction, but watching you break apart, only for him to mend later. He lifted you by the waist and smiled when your arms flopped like a ragdoll to steady yourself, clumsily. “We have to hold her. I might have given her too much.”

“Good.” A wolfish grin spread across Tae’s face as he gave himself one more shallow cut across the palm before smacking it across your ass to hold you firmly in his lap. A bright red stain coats the welt--hot, pulsating. It’s just a taste of what’s to come. 

Jimin braced your back as you found a comfortable seat, straddling Taehyung’s lap, playfully flopping your arms around the back of his neck. 

“Baby, why are you bleeding?” Your voice was soft and angelic. You gave him a caring kiss at the corner of his lips, completely oblivious to the blade as it reached the crook of your neck. It split the skin delicately, almost unnoticeable, until a small droplet of blood slid down and rested in the dip of your collarbone like the pretty pendant of a necklace.

“Pretty,” Jimin hummed, noticing the way Tae’s eyes widened, mesmerized by the bright red that reflects in his dark, swirling irises. 

Pretty, indeed. You’re gorgeous, ever since they first laid eyes on you, you were bound to be their favorite. Whether you’re dressed up prettily, or a sleepy fucked out mess in their bed, your beauty knew no bounds. ...Taehyung is pretty as well, the way his eyes seem to see nothing but the blood seeping out your wounds. It’s you. It came from your body, and therefore, his enamored expression only spurred his greed to see more.

“My own little doll.” Taehyung gently brushed down the strap of your thin lingerie, giving him more skin to indulge in, but not quite exposing your chest for him to see just yet. He leaned in to press his plush lips into the small pool of blood in the dip of your collarbones, staining his lips in red. He looked up at you, smiling sweetly at your sleepy expression. You automatically smiled back, lazily reaching to swipe the pad of your finger across his lower lip.

“Red suits you.” You mumbled, blinking slowly as you inspected the blood. Realizing what it was, your eyebrows furrowed. “Is your lip bleeding?”

“Red suits you more,” Taehyung responded quickly. He took the opportunity to suck your fingertip clean of your blood, leaning in to kiss your lips, stealing your breath away. His tongue demanded yours, tasting it while feeding you your own sweet essence. It was like iron, watered down by saliva and quickly forgotten when all you could focus on was the passion in his kiss. He indulged, before breaking apart gently, lips still connected through the thick, red tainted strings of saliva, “My lips ache for you. No.. Everything in me aches for you.”

“Everything..” You repeated, moving your hips in response to his words, grinding against his exposed cock. It slid effortlessly between your soppy folds, feeling him twitch against you only made you feel pride swell in your chest because you did something he liked. “Want you.. please..” 

“Oh, she’s still able to beg.” Taehyung smiled, eyes searching for Jimin’s. The blonde stayed behind you, ensuring your balance is intact as he watches the scene unfold. He nods at Tae, tongue poking out to wet his plump lips. He likes it too.

“She’s really wet.” Jimin muttered when he glanced down, every little rut making Tae’s length shine more and more until the slick sound can practically be heard.

Taehyung soothed his warm palm over your ass, up to your waist beneath the short dress of your lingerie, before bringing it back down to hold you firmly. His other hand dropped the razor, freeing it for him to be able to use both grips on your behind, lifting you slightly to line himself up with your warm flesh. He didn’t have any patience left to tease himself, and instead began to act upon his urges as they came to him. He lowered you on top of his length, watching your expression morph into a mixture of discomfort, relief, and in the end, pleasure.

“And still responsive, her pretty pussy is still squeezing me tight..” Taehyung licked his lips, looking back at Jimin, who also pays great attention to what’s happening, “Just a bit disoriented..” Although he didn’t audibly say it, it’s obvious that he enjoyed your current state. You were compliant, just his kind of submissive to allow him to use you as he wishes-- yet aware enough to give him the satisfaction of your physical responses and pleading whimpers.

With greedy snaps of his hips, Taehyung began to move beneath you. His steady grip on your ass aided in lifting you up, only to flop you back down onto his length. The light smacks of your ass against his thighs were subtle, but loud enough for him to feel every blood cell in his body awaken-- warm and spreading throughout his system like a wildfire.

“I can’t get enough of her.” Taehyung grunted into your neck, licking up the residue of seeping blood. The fine wound had stopped bleeding, and it irked him-- spurred him to want to make another. His teeth itched to sink into your soft skin. 

“Ghh-- ahh..” Your body twitched in response, the sudden stinging pain scared you, not realizing Taehyung was biting your shoulder until your eyelashes fluttered open. He withdrew, only to repeat the action, biting up towards your neck, leaving possessive marks in the shape of his teeth that just barely broke the skin. It stung more with every second, warm welts forming around the small prickles of blood that seeped out from the thin marks. “Taee..”

“Take it off,” Taehyung growls against your skin, not ceasing the way he moves your body on top of himself. When he heard your voice break further, he knew your pretty eyes must be welling up with tears, “Jimin, take her blindfold off now.”

Jimin obliged to the man’s wishes, swiftly reaching to undo the blindfold and tossed it aside. He leaned closer to you, pressing a kiss against your temple while soothing his warm palms up your waist, aiding your body to keep steady as it was thrusted into from below.

“You’re doing so well, kitten. Looking so pretty, Taehyung can barely contain himself.” Jimin voiced out loud, eyes fixed on Taehyung, who seemed to barely notice the blonde’s presence now that he’d gone back to staring at your face. He searched your eyes, finding the hazy stare that had become glossy with a layer of tears. Tae was in awe, eyebrows furrowed in focus. Your expressions had his cock throbbing in excitement, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from cumming.

“Fuck, it feels good…” Taehyung’s hands trembled, nails digging deeper into the flesh of your ass. He moved your body harder, grinding you down on his length to bury himself as deep as physically possible. A breathy moan followed, low and drawn out as his grip readjusts, snaking his arms around your lower back to hold you down on top of him. Fully sheathed, he buried his face in your cleavage, biting through the fabrics that covered your chest. His thighs began to shake, hips twitching as his cock pulsated, feeding your pussy with his release.

Your strained moans were quiet, breathy like a soft sigh. You could feel him throb inside of you, so you did your best to clench around him to ensure he felt his best during his orgasm. Even when you were feeling like you were floating on clouds, nothing could numb out the feeling of Taehyung..

“She likes it.” Jimin kept his hands on your back, soothing circles with his palms.

“Such a good girl to me… Always.” Taehyung huffed, letting your body flop over his as he sat up straight, holding your body in a hug. He looked up at Jimin with a content smile. He smiled more and more the further they went, but… There’s something in his eyes that tells Jimin he’s far from done. He’s not sated yet. No, there was a fire in Taehyung’s eyes that still burned passionately.

Taehyung laid you down on your back, ensuring you were comfortable on the soft duvet. Your eyes fluttered closed before opening again, looking back and forth between the men you loved more than life itself.

“My pretty little doll, isn’t it such a shame that your skin is unblemished...when it should be marked with my love?” Taehyung asked while reaching for the razorblade that he’d discarded on the sheets earlier, now bringing it back. He displays it next to his face with a smirk, the shiny metal piece reflecting your lewd body like a miniature mirror.

“Hyung..?” Jimin looked momentarily confused. He knew Taehyung wanted to inflict marks of possession, hence the biting and light cutting earlier. But this seemed different, and they’d both already had their fill for the night. Nonetheless, despite the confusion, the blonde was also intrigued. Your skin had remained unmarked from any scars, always previous inflictions had been ones that heal and fade with time.

Taehyung wet his lips in anticipation, giving Jimin a wicked smile before he positioned himself between your legs, giving him full access to your torso. He used the sharp blade of his razor to cut a slit into your dress, then proceeded to rip it apart at the front to expose your skin. He exhales in awe, fingers trembling as they held the metal object tighter.

“More.” Taehyung whispered, eyes dark as he drank in your curves. He brought the pads of his fingers to your stomach, soothing over it to test your reflexes. You barely react, so he began to gently dig the corner of his blade into your skin. Jimin could see how Tae’s lip twitched at the feeling of carving into your flesh, seeing as the warm, red blood seeped out from the clean wound.

“More.” Taehyung repeated, littering your stomach and ribs in cuts, watching as if in a trance as the blood paints red streaks down your body into the sheets. You begin to whine when you feel the burning sensation of your paper thin gashes, “You look so much prettier.”

Jimin didn’t intervene, even when you began to squirm and whine more frequently. He clamped his lower lip between his teeth tightly, sitting next to you. He didn’t want to stop it, and even if he wanted to-- he couldn’t. Not when Taehyung had already decided what needed to happen. Jimin stayed close, brushing your hair away from your face, even the damp strands that had stuck to your cheek. It’s all he could do.. All he would do.

“Stay still.” Taehyung muttered when you moved too much. He cursed between breaths when you twitched too harshly from a cut, resulting in him cutting deeper than intended into your upper thigh. He smacked the wound with an open palm, as if to silently punish you for not doing as he instructed, “See what happened now? I told you to stay still..”

However, the smile on his lips began to resemble that of a subtle version of a cheshire cat when he saw your deepened gash pulse out more blood for him. He admired the view, and he could feel the growing desire itch in his hands-- it’s not enough.

Jimin recognized that crazed look in Tae’s eye, and it made him doubt the man for the first time all night. 

“Taehyung.” He stated his name plainly, but clear. He needed the man to hear him through the bloodthirsty quiver of his irises as he drank you in. “It’s time. She’s done.”

“She’s done when I say she’s done.”

“Tae…”

The color drained from your face. Without pressure, the gash across your thigh billowed with blood, cascading down your silken skin like a freepour canvas. Their canvas. So beautiful, flowing over Taehyung's hands as he cupped them to gather what he could.

“She’s only just begun.” He whispered. Hands came up to cup your bare breasts, smearing the blood messily, painting you with your own essence. 

Jimin doesn’t say a word. All he could do is cradle you in his arms and watch his partner indulge in your last moments of life. He pressed sweet kisses to your temple and whispered praise as your eyelids fluttered shut. You were like a porcelain doll as the color left your cheeks completely, and for a moment, he wished he could keep you that way forever.

Tae crawled over the sullied sheets and rested behind Jimin, looking fondly at his doll sleeping safe and sound. The best nights never go as planned. It’s more than either of them anticipated, but beautiful, like a sunset.

“Come here,” he said in a low tone, placing his hand on Jimin’s jaw and smearing it with your cold blood. Their metallic lips melded together in a finishing kiss. Gentle sighs and pecks in memory of their long lost love. 

Their favorite, forever. 

© sombreboy 2021. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[figonas]

As Warm As The Sun-Part 1

“When he wakes there is crisp sunlight streaming through his chambers, yellow as a daffodil and nearly as warm as Jude felt in his arms. In limbo between awake and asleep Cardan thinks he might have dreamt that part of the evening as well”

Summary: Takes place during The Wicked King pretty much right before the Queen of Mirth scene and Chapter 15. This is just a soft, fluffy response to the prompt “hug me I command it”.

Words: 1623

Rating: GA

Links: Part 2-Jude POV | AO3

A/N: Tumblr user @jurdanhell brought this prompt up to me and our initial discussion that it didn’t really fit Cardan morphed into “wait yes this is exactly Cardan behavior”. This is my first work on AO3 so kudos would be greatly appreciated, if it gets enough love I might re-write the scene from Jude’s perspective!

********

Revels all tended to blend together, an endless stream of music and alcohol that somehow left Cardan feeling as desperately alone as always even when in a room bursting with folk of all shapes and sizes. This particular revel was different, if only because Jude was still hovering around him long after she would have normally retreated to her chambers or the Court of Shadows. He could feel her eyes on him, as heavy as the weight of his crown as she stared daggers at him from her position to the side of his throne.

Ordering Jude to do anything would be ordering a knife thrust into his own back, High King or no. So Cardan merely asked Jude to attend the revel in its entirety, but he did so in front of the Living Council, several members of the Low Courts, and Locke who rose to challenge and prod Jude without needing to be asked. There was no way for her to refuse that wouldn’t be seen as backing down from his challenge, so through gritted teeth, Jude graciously accepted his invitation. He didn’t know why he had asked her, perhaps he simply wanted to annoy her in a way that would require little effort from him, or perhaps he wanted to know how she would retaliate. A small part of him whispered that he just wanted her company but he made sure to drown that part of him with plenty of wine earlier in the night. Too much wine though Cardan is loath to admit it, and now as the night winds down he’s not entirely sure he can make it back to his rooms on his own. It wouldn’t be the first time one of his guards has dragged their High King to bed and dropped him on his royal ass but Cardan dislikes the idea all the same. Moving to stand he lurches too far forward and nearly falls off the raised dais before Jude’s hand closes on the back of his cloak pulling him backward where he crashes into her solid presence. “As much as it would amuse me to watch you fall after you made me stand here all night for no reason, I’m too tired to pick you up off the floor,” Jude hisses in his ear, she throws one of his arms across her shoulders as her other arm snakes around his waist. “Dearest Jude, are you trying to take me to bed?” Cardan tries his best to wiggle his eyebrows at her but he’s too focused on his feet as they descend the dais steps and begin the long trek to his rooms. “Don’t push your luck or I’ll leave you to sleep on the floor in the middle of the burgh”. He laughs despite her threat and out of the corner of his eye he sees a small smile on Jude’s lips.

Cardan’s inebriated mind is not as trained at quashing his feelings for Jude as his sober mind is. As they make their way through the palace halls he has the sudden, sickening thought that he likes this, being embraced by Jude Duarte even if it’s only to help him to his rooms. She seems to have forgotten she’s repulsed by him, letting him lean on her as much as he needs. Cardan decides that he would get mindlessly drunk every night if it meant Jude would hold him this way but, perhaps mercifully, they make it to his rooms before he can voice this out loud. The moment she releases him he misses her warmth, her feeling of life and strength, of mortality. Before he knows what he’s saying he opens his mouth to speak. “Embrace me again,” he says, drunk and foolish, he can see the shock on her face despite her desperate attempt to hide it, but even Jude master of power and control, cannot stop the flush rising across her cheeks. Is it desire? Anger? Embarrassment? Cardan doesn’t care, he likes this Jude best; off her guard, almost susceptible to his charms but not quite, she is Jude Duarte after all. She recovers quickly, her expression cooling into something like boredom. “Go to bed Cardan” she points at the monstrously empty bed and he imagines it will be just as cold and lonely as he feels now. “But I am your king, Jude I command it,” he says with what he hopes is a playful smile, but is more than likely a fool’s grin. “So I say again, embrace me and then I will concede and go to bed”. Jude opens her mouth to speak but quickly shuts it with an audible snap of teeth.

She’s at war with herself he realizes suddenly, he can nearly see the thoughts racing in her head. He expects her to push back and fight with him, or to leave him where he stands not caring if he makes it to bed or collapses on the floor right here. Impossibly she does neither, instead, she reaches for him and wraps her arms around his midsection, her cheek resting on his shoulder. Cardan is frozen for what feels like an eternity but is only a handful of seconds as her warmth seeps into his very bones. He wraps his arms around her, returning the embrace before she changes her mind. “I’m only doing this because I’m too tired to fight with you about going to bed,” Jude mumbles softly, Cardan barely hears her above his pounding heart, but he can feel her words from where she’s pressed against his chest. He wants to tighten his grip on her to ensure himself this is real. He wants to bury his face in the crook of her neck and inhale the scent that haunts his dreams; her scent, so uniquely human, so wholly Jude. Through sheer force of will, he stops himself from indulging in either of these fantasies that would most likely only shatter this tender moment or result in him getting stabbed, he is equally disappointed at the thought of either possibility.

Jude seems to forget, if only for a moment, that it’s Cardan’s arms around her, his shoulder her cheek rests on, his neck that she tickles with her soft exhales. She relaxes just a little in a way he didn’t know she could, her palms flattening against his back, the ever-present tension leached slightly from her shoulders. He indulges in the impulse of stroking her lower back with his thumbs, he’s emboldened to tighten his grip on her just a fraction when Jude doesn’t react to the small movement. They stand in silence for several moments, Cardan’s heart racing at a worrying speed. Suddenly, Jude inhales deeply which turns into a wide yawn and she steps back rubbing the heel of her hand across one eye. “Alright, Your Majesty I indulged your wishes,” she’s interrupted by another, smaller yawn which she covers with the back of her hand. Cardan’s hands are still resting lightly on Jude’s waist, she doesn’t move from his touch. “Now to bed with you so I can get in my own. One of us has to be alert enough to run the kingdom,” she points in the direction of his bed and Cardan drops his hands. He is again shocked by how cold his room feels without her pressed against him. He quashes the urge to touch her again, he knows she will not indulge him a second time. When he turns he sways slightly, Jude rolls her eyes and places her hand on the small of his back guiding him to bed. “Careful with your orders Jude or I will tell everyone that you were kind to me,” he laughs to himself though it is not at all funny. “Though I don’t think anyone would believe me”. “You won’t remember this tomorrow anyway,” they reach the bedside where she gives him a gentle shove and he drops unceremoniously onto his too-large bed. The motion sets his head swimming. He steals one last, longing look at Jude before closing his eyes; her cheeks flushed, eyes tired, impenetrable walls lowered the tiniest bit. Cardan tucks the image away to think of when she’s gone and he’s left alone in the sea of cold blankets. “Oh Jude, loveliest of afflictions, I will remember this night for years to come,” he hears her scoff as she steps away from the bed. “We’ll see about that tomorrow,” she sounds amused as she speaks and if Cardan’s head wasn’t spinning so badly he would peel his eyes open just to see one of Jude’s rare smiles. He hears her footsteps retreating toward the door where she stops, he’s nearly overtaken with sleep when he hears her voice call softly back to him. “Goodnight Cardan”. She’s gone before he can respond and Cardan succumbs to sleep only moments later.

She’s there in his dreams as she is most nights. Cardan tries to speak to dream Jude, but the only word he can say is her name; Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude. Over and over again, he calls her name like a curse, a prayer, the last desperate words of a dying man, a humble supplicant whispering the name of an honored deity. When he wakes there is crisp sunlight streaming through his chambers, yellow as a daffodil and nearly as warm as Jude felt in his arms. In limbo between awake and asleep Cardan thinks he might have dreamt that part of the evening as well, but as he shifts under the sheets her scent wafts from the fabric of his shirt into his nostrils. He clutches the fabric tightly, inhaling deeply he smiles to himself before drifting off again to a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

[mostlymovieswithmax]

Movies I watched in July

Once again I’m doing my monthly round-up of movies I’ve watched. This was a good month for the cinema getting back on track and seeing new releases including the new M. Night movie, Old and James Gunn’s The Suicide Squad. Pretty sure Marvel put out a new movie also. I’m hoping that this list can help in guiding a decision about what to watch (or what to avoid) and introduce people to movies they may otherwise not have heard of or bothered to see. These short reviews are my own subjective opinions on each individual movie and maybe a more informal approach to movie criticism can help include others who are just passing through. Here is every film I watched from the 1st to the 31st of July.

Bridesmaids (2011) - 4/10

Off to a good start. I won’t say Bridesmaids is a terrible movie but I don’t think I’m exactly the target audience. As far as I know, this is a beloved comedy but I just can’t get on board with all the boring, juvenile humour; with Maya Rudolph shitting in the street, with Rose Byrne and Kristen Wiig trying to one-up each other at a toast that went on forever, with Melissa McCarthy shitting in a sink… the conflict is so done to death and makes the movie feel unspecial. I do understand the appeal of the film, especially for women in that before this movie the likelihood of seeing something like this, where women play up the more crass and gross side of comedy, was probably few and far between. But the story is very tired and while I did appreciate some moments, namely a couple of decent jokes and some of the more intimate scenes, for the most part it felt like they wanted to corner a more quiet type of line delivery in a way that was supposed to be understated but very funny so as to not rely on over the top body language or musical cues, and it ended up being super dull.

Spectre (2015) - 7/10

As far as I can tell, a lot of people don’t like this instalment of the James Bond franchise… but I really enjoyed it! I’ve really taken a shine to these Daniel Craig-era Bond movies and while I can’t say any of them are the most amazing thing, I have a lot of fun with them. The biggest problem I have with Spectre is the villain being utterly pointless and uninteresting in basically every way. The idea of every villain Bond has fought before being tied to this one organisation controlled by this one guy is ridiculous, and what makes it worse is that the villain is barely in it! There’s so much that doesn’t come together in this but as it goes, I still had a really good time. Daniel Craig holds the whole thing together; he is excellent as 007 and the main reason I’m up for each of these movies is because of him. Sam Mendes directs again after the previous instalment and for what it’s worth I do think he does a good job with some of the action set pieces and the locations. I’m so ready for No Time To Die.

Shazam (2019) - 7/10

Shazam is a genuinely fun superhero movie that doesn’t take itself seriously at all. I was having a great time throughout and while it could conform to some of the same tropes we’re used to with these kinds of movies, it still remained playful and used the character of Shazam to his fullest potential in a way that showed an understanding of just how silly the idea of a kid who can turn into an adult and shoot lightning out of his hands is.

High School Musical (2006) - 6/10

So as you may or may not know, I co-host a podcast: The Sunday Movie Marathon. It’s a film podcast and every week I get together with my other co-hosts and watch movies. For episode 38, we watched the High School Musical trilogy. This first movie blew me away. I was really surprised with just how much fun I had, and if you want to hear more of my thoughts on the film, please listen to episode 38 of the podcast.

High School Musical 2 (2007) - 4/10

We then jumped into the second and while it’s certainly not as good as its predecessor, there are still some brilliant songs that manage to top the last movie. Again, more of what I have to say can be heard on episode 38 of the podcast.

High School Musical 3: Senior Year (2008) - 3/10

Senior Year was pretty hard to get through. I don’t remember it being as bad as it was, but then I didn’t really remember it anyway. It did however have one redeeming quality, which you can discover on episode 38 of the podcast.

The Piano Teacher (2001) - 9/10

What the fuuuckkkk. The Piano Teacher is horrendously affecting and I was so upset when it ended, maybe not because it’s not what I wanted but because it’s just so fucking dour and unrelenting. This is the second Haneke movie I’ve seen (after the original Funny Games) and I’m so impressed with how well executed it is. Following a woman who teaches piano, we get a glimpse into the life she lives, how sheltered she is from living with her mother at an age where you’d reasonably expect a person to be living alone or with a partner or friends (even going so far as to be sleeping in the same bed as her), and how repressed she is sexually. It’s clear she’s never experienced any kind of sexual interaction or romantic love with another person, so she goes out of her way to take control and make that happen. The upsetting nature of it comes from just what she does in pursuit of it or as a result of her repression, and what is done to her. It is by no means a movie to recommend to your parents but The Piano Teacher offers so much in terms of the ideas it presents (and I’ll admit there seems to be a lot more going on than I think I picked up on a first go round) about women in modern society, and about the portrayal of sex and expectations of people when it comes to how that is represented in a person’s character depending on their gender. I really enjoyed this movie but it is not for the faint of heart.

Sharpay’s Fabulous Adventure (2011) - 1/10

My podcast co-hosts decided it’d be a right laugh to add Sharpay’s Fabulous Adventure to this episode and that might have been a fun idea for them because they got to watch it together, but I was just watching it alone. Just a 24-year-old man watching Sharpay’s Fabulous Adventure alone and having a miserable time, I might add. But for a short and sweet ramble on what we all thought, please listen to episode 38 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast.

Dr. No (1962) - 6/10

A lot of very iffy parts of this movie. A lot of discomfort arising from how black people are portrayed that really didn’t sit right with me. As far as a Bond movie goes, this first instalment in the series is one I’ve seen before and it’s not wholly engaging but it plants the seeds for the rest, with Sean Connery breathing life into the role and making an otherwise lacklustre plot bearable.

Black Widow (2021) - 6/10

I think probably the best part about Black Widow is the experience I had while watching it. It was great being back in the cinema with a couple of friends in a packed theatre. The energy was high and I’m sure for a lot of people, this is the first time they’d been to the cinema since Endgame. For what it’s worth, I did have a lot of fun with Black Widow and I’ve explained more of what I thought about the movie in episode 39 of the podcast.

The Climb (2020) - 10/10

The Climb was added to Now TV recently and I already knew I loved it, having seen it in an empty cinema theatre last year, which I had an absolute blast with. The Climb details the years of a rocky friendship told over scenes filmed as one-shots. Not only is the presentation something to gawk at, but the performances by the two leads playing these friends with a terrifically dysfunctional dynamic is truly captivating. They’re both trying to figure out their own lives and where one can come across as being rather selfish, the opposite is true in his counterpart, whom everyone loves. This is a truly funny and heartwarming movie with a lot to say about how we choose to live our lives and who we choose to be with. It’s a shame the distributors of The Climb didn’t do a very good job because if not for it being available on Now TV, it would be near impossible to watch without forking out more money than is necessary to purchase a film.

From Russia With Love (1963) - 5/10

The second Bond movie. I thought perhaps I’d change my mind on it with another watch, having seen it for the first time maybe a year ago. But no, it’s still largely boring and it treats women like absolute garbage. From Russia With Love is one of those movies I forget as I watch it, and I was trying very hard (in the middle of the day!) not to fall asleep.

The Good, The Bart, and The Loki (2021) - 1/10

I don't usually talk about the short films I watch but for this I'll make an exception. As we all should know, Disney owns The Simpsons now, through their acquisition of Fox, so, coupled with another of their properties, that being Marvel, they decided to make a six-minute animated film wherein Marvel’s Loki is stranded in Springfield. This felt as though it was a minute long due to the horrendously jarring pacing; it is a movie that feels adamant that it needs to exist, while trying as hard as it can to be over as soon as possible. It serves only to stare the audience directly in the face and say “look, characters from The Simpsons are dressed as Avengers”, shit out three credit scenes, then end before you’ve even processed the atrocity you just bore witness to.

Russian Ark (2002) - 8/10

For this next episode of the podcast, we watched a few Russian movies, starting with Russian Ark, a film shot completely in one take as the camera moves about a luxurious museum in a first-person perspective as this main character watches what is happening around him, seeing people moving about the place but unable to interact with them, guided only by another man who seems to be just slightly out of his own perception of reality. This is a tremendous feat in filmmaking and more can be heard about what I have to say in episode 39 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast.

Ivan’s Childhood (1962) - 7/10

For my own pick of Russian movies to discuss on the podcast, I chose the debut feature from one of my favourite directors, Andrei Tarkovsky. It’s amazing that while this is not his best film by far, Ivan’s Childhood is still such a stellar debut, jumping around in its timeline as it details a child’s experience in the second world war. Again, I do go into more depth in episode 39 of the podcast, so be sure to check that out.

Outlaw (2019) - 1/10

The third movie chosen for this marathon is apparently the fourth Russian LGBTQ+ movie ever made. I’m unsure of the ultimate goal of this movie but what seems to be clear is that it hates the LGBTQ+ community. This is perhaps the worst film we’ve discussed on the podcast to date, so listen to episode 39 to understand exactly why it’s such trash.

Almost Famous (2000) - 7/10

I too love heavy music and also studied journalism so it stands to reason that a movie about a teenager who makes his way onto a band tour, following them through America and interviewing them as they hang out and play shows is going to be a premise that resonates with me. This certainly did. I enjoyed Almost Famous a lot; this kid is living the dream and I was so along for the ride, seeing a lot of myself in what was being portrayed. That said, the story itself is at times a bit by the numbers and I really would’ve been more on board if the visual component was more interesting. For what it is, technically it’s fine enough but nothing in that department ever jumped out at me.

Minari (2021) - 8/10

It’s crazy that this didn’t get a theatrical run where I live in the UK. It feels as though I complain about film distribution all the time but I really don’t understand the process by which a movie gets no cinematic release and yet, months later will pop up on the front shelf of hmv, taking pride of place. But of course I got the blu-ray straight away. Minari has a lot to say about the immigrant experience, specifically in America as a family comes over from Korea and tries to start a business and make something of themselves. You get to see a lot of what you might not think twice about when you think about immigration: the hardship of coming from a place where you know everyone to somewhere rural and sparsely populated, having to make friends with locals and integrate within the community; the strain it can put on a family and on a marriage where this idea is presented about the importance of making it on your own in order to live and not just survive, while also taking into account why you’re doing it in the first place and the value you place on being part of a family that you decided to make because that was more important than money, than economy, than proving you were good enough to make it in a place that gave you very little advantage from the offset. This concept of the promised land, of the American dream is a construct. There are times when it’s not pretty, when you have no running water, or you’re in debt, or a family member is dying and it just feels like you’ve been dealt as bad a hand as you can get. But it is better to know you’re not facing all that alone.

Roma (2018) - 10/10

This was my recommendation for the podcast episode on Alfonso Cuarón movies. Roma is as beautiful as it is heart-wrenching and I would recommend listening to episode 40 of the podcast to find out more about my thoughts.

An American Werewolf In London (1981) - 8/10

In all fairness, London is enough to make anyone a little crazy at the best of times. An American Werewolf in London showcases some fantastically grotesque effects, akin to something like Carpenter’s The Thing, in showing the dead brought back to life and a horrifically gory transformation scene. Although the film is from the perspective of an American protagonist, directed also by an American, the depiction of British culture and climate is something I’ve not seen many films pull off quite so well, and I was pleasantly surprised at the more comedic tone the film has overall, which is something that works more in its favour than straight horror would.

The Party’s Just Beginning (2018) - 6/10

Karen Gillan’s directorial debut is… pretty good! There are a lot of ideas I like in this movie: a woman living life and through convenient circumstances, is confronted with death in many ways. Gillan obviously knows her homeland as well as she can, imbuing the whole thing with an intensely Scottish vibe (though maybe not in the same vein as something like Trainspotting) that makes it a bit more unique than a more run of the mill movie of this ilk, backed up in no small part by her own main performance. The plot itself is no great diversion from the kind of story I’m used to with these smaller movies and for something that’s trying to include messaging about transgender issues and suicide, it probably could have been handled better or done in a different way.

Solaris (1972) - 9/10

Another Tarkovsky joint, one I thought I’d revisit to see if there was indeed more to get out of it a second time. Well, it’s no surprise that yes, there was certainly more to get out of it. Solaris is a crazy trip of a movie and I would liken it to Kubrick’s 2001 in terms of how grand the scale of it feels. Yet this is a film that comes across as deeply personal, choosing to focus on a specific character as he goes to a space station to help those on board who are experiencing some kind of emotional crises, only to feel the effects of the planet, Solaris invading his own mind as it has the crew. To many, I can see this lengthy Russian sci-fi being a tad slow but my personal experience is one of deep engagement. Solaris pulls its viewer in a lot of different directions and it is always doing something unexpected in terms of where its narrative goes. There’s a lot to think about with the movie and thankfully it’s no chore to watch again.

Y Tu Mamá También (2001) - 9/10

Another recommendation for the podcast episode on Alfonso Cuarón movies. This is a very relaxed experience, following three young people as they go on a road trip, visit different places and have sex. Listen to episode 40 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast for more of my thoughts.

Children of Men (2006) - 10/10

My favourite Cuarón movie, one that never stops being tense as its characters are constantly moving towards the end goal. Set in a future where humans are infertile, the oldest living person is 18, and London is the last city in the world that’s still keeping it together, somewhat. This is masterclass filmmaking. Listen to episode 40 of the podcast for more insights.

Minority Report (2002) - 5/10

I’m really not the biggest fan of Spielberg… Minority Report is an interesting movie in terms of its concept of stopping crimes before they happen by way of prediction, but I just didn’t connect with the heart of it. The colouring is way too overexposed in a way that’s supposed to be eliciting a futuristic vibe but instead feels so early-2000’s in the worst way. My biggest problem with Minority Report is just how long it is, clocking in at two hours and twenty-five minutes which allows for a lot of meandering, all while never quite developing characters enough for you to care about.

Caché (2005) - 9/10

Oh god! Another Michael Haneke movie! Here we see a couple periodically sent video tapes featuring hours of footage of the outside of their house. The anxiety ratchets up and the mystery gets deeper with every minute. There’s always at least one moment in any of his films that have so far made me realise just how out of my depth I am. Caché is no exception, and I won’t spoil anything here because I think it’s better just to watch the movie and see for yourself. He is a director that wants the audience to know something and that something is never what is explicitly shown at face value; it is pressed into the fabric of the film - plainly evident, yet hidden. Caché is so stupidly clever in displaying its themes and messaging - making reference to the Siene Massacre of 1961 as well as a deeper study of colonialism - and there’s no way to change a single detail of it without risking the Jenga tower crumbling to the ground. It all works in tandem. It is passion and fury and haunting.

Coco (2017) - 7/10

Pixar had a string of around seven forgettable movies before this point so thankfully Coco emerged to show the company still had something good in them. Coco deals a lot with themes of death and legacy, remembering those who are gone in order to preserve them and while its plotting is quite basic and there are certainly moments that either drag or cannot escape the same Pixar formula, most of what the movie has to offer is a lot of fun, with creative, colourful animation and emotional beats that resonate the way they’re supposed to.

Incredibles 2 (2018) - 5/10

Oh, they almost had it! There's a lot here that could have been explored in far more interesting ways. Setting Incredibles 2 directly after the events of the first movie was not a good idea. If it had taken place five or ten years after, the characters could have been in different places in life and it would feel as though they'd actually changed and developed. But instead of trying to be a film that actually cares about its characters and the journeys they go on, a lot of the film is wrestling with the idea that Bob isn't supportive of his wife and Jack-Jack has to fight a raccoon… They have to shoehorn in a villain that in no way compares to the genius of the original. The ending of the original introduces another antagonist that gets wrapped up within this film's first ten minutes, except they don't catch him and he's never mentioned again. It's a real shame because the animation is fantastic and the acting is superb and there are great ideas sprinkled throughout. It just doesn't come together.

Toy Story 4 (2019) - 6/10

I was rather reluctant to watch Toy Story 4 because from the get-go I’m not really here for sequels being made just for the sake of it. Everyone loves Toy Story and making another one is a sure fire way to make money. This is the first time I’ve seen Toy Story 4 and for what it’s worth, I did enjoy it. The animation is immaculate and that alone feels like a huge flex from Pixar who tend to step up the game when it comes to animation in film, despite not having the best track record for films generally at this point. While it was nice to see these characters again, I found a lot of them to be side-lined (namely Buzz) in favour of a story that focuses mainly or entirely on Woody, who I just don’t like as much as in the previous movies. Generally the movie is good and decent enough but there’s no real antagonist and the plot is quite loose… it doesn’t feel as though it needed to be made from a story point of view.

Onward (2020) - 6/10

And with that I have seen every Pixar movie. And Onward is a fine one to go out on. While I don’t think it compares to the likes of earlier Pixar it’s still pretty fun. Or maybe I’m just a sucker for a medieval setting filled with bright colours and magic! Speaking of which, the animation was super and the medieval quest element is something that hooked me with the film. Again, plot-wise it does feel very familiar and I don’t know, maybe I’m past the point now of expecting Pixar to mix it up where their formula for story-telling is concerned but the movie is quite predictable. Nonetheless, while I’m not rushing back to see Onward I would hardly turn it off or refuse if someone wanted to watch it.

Old (2021) - 3/10

Oh boy! New M. Night movie dropped and my word, was it fun! For more of my thoughts on this… masterpiece (?) of a movie, please direct your attention to episode 41 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast.

T2 Trainspotting (2017) - 5/10

Trainspotting is perhaps one of my favourite movies and I had never bothered with the sequel, 20 years on, because the ending of that first movie is so conclusive. T2 felt more an excuse for these guys to get together again and in that, I probably would have preferred a couple of pictures on Twitter of the main cast and director, Danny Boyle having dinner or something. This is a fine movie - very arty in its presentation but meandering and dull in its story that doesn’t offer much in the way of proof that it had to exist.

Taste of Cherry (1997) - 9/10

What makes life worth living? This is a central question and theme of Taste of Cherry, and one that leaves such interpretation not only up to its central character but to the viewer as well. This film got me thinking about times in my life when I truly have had no answer to hard questions. Because it’s hard to convince people of things they are so adamantly against and harder still to rationalise what you believe if you’re not even entirely sure why you believe it in the first place. We are all of us alive and in recognising that, does that make it precious? And if indeed living is not a happy thing, why then should we fight so hard to preserve it? I felt upset as I watched this movie because I’ve been asked these kinds of questions before and it makes me feel stupid when I’m unable to answer. But the only real answer I can give is, everything. And if you can’t see the point then you’re not looking hard enough. Taste of Cherry is beautiful in its exploration of these topics and in its overall presentation, offering some of the best visuals in any movie I’ve seen - fitting for a feature with so much to say about the beauty of life - and an ending that as much pulls the rug out from under you as it does pull you out of the dark and make you realise just how lonely you’ve felt.

Bones (2001) - 2/10

Snoop Dogg is Jimmy Bones! This film is super funny but I’m not sure it’s trying to be and I really didn’t love it overall. But I do talk more in depth about it in episode 41 of the podcast.

The Duchess (2008) - 5/10

Another recommendation for the podcast. The Duchess was pretty much exactly what I thought it was going to be and there’s a lot to like about it but generally it’s a bit sparse. For more chat on the movie, listen to episode 41 of the podcast.

The Man With One Red Shoe (1985) - 1/10

This was another one for the podcast and man, was it awful. We had to watch it at 1.5x speed towards the end because it just wasn’t getting finished otherwise. To find out more, make sure to listen to episode 41 of the podcast.

The Emperor’s New Groove (2000) - 7/10

Pull the lever, Kronk! Haha! Slays me. I do quite miss this era of Disney, where the animation was hand-drawn and the stories were actually compelling and funny. The Emperor’s New Groove is vibrant, it’s got great characters and memorable moments that will forever be ingrained in the memory of culture. All in all, it’s just a solid flick that doesn’t waste time, developing the standard fall from glory type of arc but smoothly and in an entertaining way.

The Suicide Squad (2021) - 8/10

Oh, bloody hell! They actually made a good one! The Suicide Squad is not only better than the ‘Suicide Squad’ of 2016 in every way, it’s a genuinely great film! This time, James Gunn (director of Marvel’s Guardians of the Galaxy movies) is at the helm and it seems clear that Warner Bros. basically let him do what he wanted with the movie, as it doesn’t seem to bog itself down with the restrictions of a more family-friendly rating. The result of this is a far cleaner, colourful film with a clearer vision that takes from early Vietnam movies and uses that style to craft a superhero/villain movie that differentiates itself among the copious amount of existing films of the genre.      The Suicide Squad wastes very little time, introducing fun, crazy characters we’ve not seen on the big screen before and isn’t worried about killing a whole bunch of them, with standouts being Elba’s Bloodsport, Melchior’s Ratcatcher 2, Stallone’s King Shark (expertly rendered with fantastic visual effects), and Robbie’s returning interpretation of Harley Quinn.      A lot of Gunn’s trademark sense of humour is laced throughout and more often than not, it hits. The audience at the cinema were truly loving this movie and I’ll admit, I was right there with them. This mix of the gritty, gory and absurd is not something that should work as well as it does but the basic premise of the film is already so silly (and boy, do they know it) that it just works! Certainly one of the best DC movies since The Dark Knight and one I’d be more than happy to watch again. This is what the modern comic book movie should be: just balls to the wall fun!

[goldheartedsky]

I told myself I wasn’t going to make a post like this—that I wasn’t going to stoop to the level of making call-out posts—but I really can’t stay silent after what has happened in the last day or so.

The TOG fandom has a serious issue with excusing antisemitism and allowing people who have painfully hurt marginalized groups to continue to ignore, dismiss, and refuse to acknowledge their limits of intersectionality in regards to social justice. I have seen it myself, been on the receiving end of it, and have talked to other Jews in this fandom about what’s been going on and it needs to start being addressed.

Now, I’m not going to name names or tag people (mainly because I have been blocked by almost all of them for this very issue) but if you message me I will gladly tell you the users involved in this. Also, if you have doubts of any of this’s validity and would like screenshots, feel free to reach out to me here or via Discord and I will share them.

A lot of this started when a member of the All&More server had brought up the scientific and medical “discoveries” during the torture and medical experimentation that took place during the Third Reich and how a lot of the origin of it isn’t taught. LR made a comment saying that “we are three-dimensional creatures who are stuck moving forward in time and can’t go back” and added that not using the research won’t make past horrors not happen. When the original user added that there has been a movement in medicine for removing Nazi scientists names off discoveries and that progress was slow moving, she deflected the conversation onto herself, saying “Not using research won’t make my family not harmed by the Japanese” and then immediately pivoted into admitting that, from what she understood, there weren’t any particularly valid scientific discoveries made by them. She then said, in regards to said Nazi atrocities, “Take it, learn about it, put it in context, and then own it and transform it.”

A Jewish member of A&M voiced their discomfort about possibly taking medicine that was a direct result of the murder of their grandparents and other relatives, to which LR said, “Still stuck in the 3rd dimension, still moving forward in time.” I brought up the fact that medicine was built on antisemitism and racism and that starting over would be better than a lot of the procedures we have now. There is a longstanding issue in medicine of disregarding black pain and so much of what we have now is created by eugenicists—including Nazi scientists. There is still a lot of Jewish trauma due to medical experimentation and that is oftentimes dismissed.

LR then made a flippant comment about “Does this count as Godwin’s Law?”—which is about how all internet discussions lead to someone being compared to Nazis/Hitler. When called out on the inappropriateness of the comment, she did not respond and was backed up by one of the mods of the server. There was no apology made nor an acknowledgment about the casual antisemitism of the comments she made and the dismissal of Jewish trauma/pain.

Now, fast forward a couple months when I was contacted by a third party who had not been in the server at the time but had joined and heard about what LR had said there. H said they were friends with LR and had concerns about antisemitism and would like my perspective. I explained what had happened and offered screenshots if they would like them, which they did. They thanked me and apologized that it got to a point that I felt unsafe in the server and had to leave, which I appreciated.

A couple weeks later they reached out to me again and offered to broker a conversation between LR and myself because the situation wasn’t sitting well with them. I was skeptical (because I had been blocked at that point) and didn’t have a lot of hope that this conversation would actually take place but I felt a responsibility to try and be the bigger person and deal with what had been said head on, so I agreed to sit down and have a discussion with her as long as there was a third party in the chat as well—given our history.

After a couple weeks of back and forth with H and hearing that LR had said that she would “think about it”, she finally agreed. I was asked for a time and date and I gave my availability and was told she would be asked for the same. A couple days later, I was suddenly told LR would only be comfortable with this conversation if H acted as a “literal go-between” with us copy-pasting our responses in their DMs so we can “sit with the message and everyone can get to them when they can” rather than it being a session with an actual back and forth and was asked if I was okay with that. I honestly said no, because this was supposed to be a situation where she and I sat down and discussed what she said in the server, not a back and forth message relay where the conversation got dragged out for days or weeks or however long it was going to take. I said if she was serious about meeting me halfway on this, she needed to be able to sit down and actually talk.

H copy-pasted my response to LR and came back that she had backed out of the conversation, which part of me had expected from the beginning—even though all I wanted from this sit down was for her to understand how hurtful the antisemitic comments were and an apology.

These comments that were made in the server are not a secret. It’s pretty well known what was said and again, these were all on record, not privately made in some DM. She has still not owned up to the comments she said, nor has she ever apologized for them. She has ignored message after message about them and blocked more people than I can count. Many of the people defending her when the discourse begins have also been messaged about the comments she’s said and also either block people or ignore the messages completely and refuse to acknowledge them.

Now, this being said, in the most recent conversation about fandom racism, someone brought up the post that was made reducing users on ao3 to faceless, nameless numbers without saying who they were, what they had done, and how they were specifically contributing to the problem of racism in this fandom. They made the comparison of other situations like HR looking at pay stats to see how to fire and included “Nazis, capitalists, and colonizers.”

This is not an invalid argument. There have been other Jews in the fandom who specifically voiced feeling uncomfortable for the exact same reason. However, another person, LT, decided to specifically make a post calling the OP out and drag them for having the audacity to liken it to the Shoah (which, mind you, this person is not Jewish nor did they decide to capitalize Shoah or the Holocaust as they should have). She received a reply saying, “you’re offended by antisemitism? Here’s LR’s (someone LT has agreed with multiple times over racism in fandom) track record of antisemitic comments” which outlined everything I delved into previously.

LT said that they were “unaware of this incident until a couple days ago” but agreed that it was an upsetting display of casual dismissal of Jewish pain and hoped that LR had apologized. She was then called out for being aware of it and still continuing to reblog LR’s posts even after knowing about the comments and was linked to my post clarifying that LR had not apologized and refused a discussion about it, to which LT said that she had gotten “quite a different version outlined in the post linked and corroborated by a third party” and “felt uncomfortable” making a value judgement, insinuating that I was not being truthful about my side of the story.

I messaged LT off-anon and said that I was not lying nor over-exaggerating about what had happened in the server or about the following discussion about trying to broker a conversation with LR, and was immediately blocked by her. I am also not the only Jew who has sent her messages about this topic, only to have their messages ignored.

Now, am I surprised that I was immediately blocked after voicing my issues with what LT had said in that post? No.

She has a history of making antisemitic comments, most of which happened during the brunt of the Israel/Palestine discussion happening, which included statements such as “You cannot be considered indigenous if you hold a position of power”, that, despite having been displaced for 2,000 years, the Jewish diaspora was “integrated” into their respective communities (a wholly untrue statement), as well as linked to and promoted a website with extremely antisemitic articles including one about “Spartan Jews” and how Israeli Jews are violent to “send messages to their deprived self-esteem” that they won’t be victims again. Half of the comments on the site’s front page included such hits as “Death to all Jews” and “Wow, I had no idea this was happening—I guess it is true that Jews control the world and the mass media.” This website was repeated in multiple posts as “unbiased” and “a good resource” for other people to truly know what was going on.

Jewish dissent on the content of some posts and that website went unacknowledged and dismissed.

Being that LT is a relatively big user in the TOG fandom, her posts got circulated frequently. Seeing things like that touted as unbiased was extremely triggering for me and multiple Jews in this fandom that I’ve spoken to.

Now, the reason I made this post in particular was because I have seen a lot of echoing of the sentiment: “no matter how much you disagree with their sentiment, aligning yourself with racists is...well aligning yourself with racists.”

This statement NEEDS to become intersectional. If we are criticizing the work of people because of who they hold company with, why does that end at racism? If we are going to have a discussion about racism in this fandom, why are we letting it come from people who have openly said antisemitic things, people who have stood by them and supported them in silence, and people who have silenced Jewish voices speaking up about this issue.

These are not separate issues. This is a really good post regarding the white washing of Jews in social justice discussion and it comes full circle into the medical experimentation discussion. Jews were not seen as white during the Holocaust. The Nazis were trying to cleanse the Aryan race because they did not view Jews as white. They experimented on them because they did not view them as white and, thus, disposable.

Every Jewish diasporic community is still vulnerable. Even though the US has half the world’s Jews, over 50% of the religiously based hate crimes are consistently anti-Jewish even though Jews make up 2% of the population. Chinese Jews are still holding their holiday celebrations in secret due to government crackdowns. The attempted genocide of Beta Israel was less than 50 years ago. Across the Middle East and North Africa, Jewish communities are barely hanging on after centuries of attempted destruction. These are not just Jewish issues but racial issues as well because when people make the sweeping generalization of “Jew” and they only mean white-passing Ashkenazi Jews, it erases so much of our community.

I absolutely agree that this fandom needs to have a discussion about race and portrayal in fic and what we can do better moving forward—and I want to see that done—but we also need to acknowledge what so many people starting this discussion have said and the marginalized groups they have hurt along the way. I see these posts come across my dashboard and know exactly who they're coming from and what they think of people like me. If we are going to say, “No matter how much you disagree with their sentiment, aligning yourself with racists is aligning yourself with racists,” then we NEED to be saying, “If you are aligning yourself with antisemites, you’re aligning yourself with antisemites.”

We all need to move forward. But that means moving forward together. Jews included.

[xcrystalzero]

to be human

pairing: zhongli x gn!reader

summary: a god without his gnosis is just human and human life has as end.

note: ehe

It turns out that a god without his gnosis is just... human. A stupidly powerful human with frightening control over their element and a near encyclopedic knowledge of the land, but a human nonetheless. And nothing was quite as human as the idea of the finite.

You still vividly remember the night you came face to face with Zhongli for the first time. Not Morax or Rex Lapis or any of his other personas sworn to protect Liyue, but one sworn only to you. It was a day like no other when he appeared at your doorstep, but you knew immediately that something had changed.

That ever-particular man so caught up in his etiquette and contracts who had never before dared to step into your home without a proper invitation in came crashing into you, arms encircling your waist as he pulled your head into his chest. You were stunned but then you felt his warmth, the way his breath seemed to hitch in his chest, and the rush of his heartbeat. You hadn't considered before that your lover "felt like a god" but you had understood it then.

He certainly doesn't look like a god now. You close the door behind you as gently as you can, but he still stirs, eyes fluttering open and he's looking at you with a gentleness that has grown with time. A god without a gnosis is just human, and humans age. Neither of you hadn't noticed it at first. It was on your 30th birthday that you had jokingly pointed out the smile lines growing around Zhongli's eyes and when he had looked in the mirror later, he found himself unable to deny it.

"Hello love," you greet him as you make your way slowly forward. A warm smile is all the response you get which is understandable. His energy had been waning steadily for the past few days and you'd rather he didn't force himself into action he didn't need. "Are you comfortable?"

He nods and you reach over to help him sit up, resting his dwindling frame into the pillows lining the headboard. His gaze is focused on the window opposite his bed once again, not that you can blame him. Director Hu Tao really outdid herself this time finding this location for the two of you. From this little quiet house nestled in the mountainside, one could see the entirety of Liyue Harbor and on a clear day, even the ancient spires of Guyun Stone Forest sometimes reared their heads. From here, Zhongli could see everything he had created in its full glory.

"It's a fitting location," Hu Tao had chimed in, though even her chipper tone had softened when she considered her words. It was fine, you had assured her. Rex Lapis had insisted on ceremony and the Rite of Parting but all Zhongli asked for was your company and a few of the land he had been sworn to for so long.

"You look beautiful." Zhongli's voice draws you out of your thoughts and you turn your eyes to your lover. His smile has only gotten gentler with time but it's his amber eyes that draw your attention now. Where they once seemed to glow an almost ethereal amber, they seem to have lost their luster. Those are wholly human eyes that are now regarding you as though you are the most beautiful thing they had ever seen.

Ah, it's time.

"Thank you, as do you." You lay a hand atop Zhongli's. He smiles as you gently entangle his fingers with yours.

With a soft sigh, he closes his eyes. "I'm quite tired now..."

You swallow thickly. Now that he is no longer looking at you, the emotions are a lot harder to hide. "Rest then my love. You've done quite enough."

"I suppose you are right... Thank you for spending this time with me." His voice is softer with every word, the last few barely audible even as you force yourself to lean in closer to the man you love, placing a soft kiss to his forehead.

"I love you." You feel the words leave his lips more than you hear them, and then there is silence. The tears are falling freely from your eyes now, dripping down your cheeks as you rest your head against Zhongli's chest. There is no heartbeat.

You should go get the nurse that Hu Tao insisted stay in the house with you. You should bring the covers up over his body. You should say a prayer to your fallen god. But you do none of that. Instead, you let yourself lie against his chest one more time, heaving in raspy breathes as you let it all wash over you.

Time has had it's way with you just as it had with your lover. You will join him eventually. That was the logic you had been religiously feeding yourself these past few months and yet, it turns out that logic means nothing in the face of grief.

As you lay with your lover for the last time, you can almost feel the way the world wilts outside. Somewhere far off, a chorus of cries reverberate through the air. The adepti? It doesn't really matter who it is, just that they are sharing in your anguish, mourning the loss of a man they once loved.

Unlike the eternal earth however, there is hope for you. The passage of time wasn't reserved just for Zhongli and you were by no means immune. Time has had it's way with you as well if the grey of your hair and the ache in your bones has anything to say for the matter. The human life is finite after all. A morbid consideration of one's death would do little to stifle the grief of another, but for you, it is just another promise. The last contract you could make to the god of contracts.

"Fear not lover. I too will join you soon."

[vegalocity]

Secret kisses and Touching 2, 14, 22, 23, and 44. Secret Silktea relationship, except both spider fam and Monkey fam actually know! Half of them don’t care enough to say anything (Pigsy,Tang,Spider Queen,Wukong,Syntax) while the other half wants them to reveal it when they’re ready (Min Yi,MK,Mei,Goliath,Sis) - Pixel Anon

Affection meme

49. secret kisses

2. running fingers through hair

14.putting an arm around the other’s waist

22.falling asleep on the other’s shoulder

23. carrying the other one in their arms

44.sitting on the other’s lap

this took me forever to put together because for some ungodly reason i couldn't figure out the scenario

so i decided on a little vignette compilation of sorts

--

They knew what they were doing.

Of course they knew what they were doing. It was in either of their best interests to keep this a secret. Just because the clan had stopped their crusade to take over the city and their queen had dialed down the ‘revenge’ ideas, didn’t mean there wasn’t still bad blood between his clan and Sandy’s family.

And it wasn’t too difficult, it just meant that when they were all working together for some greater threat or whatever that they’d have to be sneaky. It was easy stealth was one of Huntsman’s greatest Attributes and suspecting Blue of anything was like suspecting a small dog of knocking over a bulldozer.

It wasn’t too hard to simply keep their hands to themselves. Or at least, it wasn’t hard for Sandy, Huntsman was quickly finding his self control lacking in regard to being in such a situation with his… well, with him. But could anyone blame him? Blue was more or less the hottest guy he’d ever ran into before and he was kinda-sorta DATING him! How could he not want to climb that like a tree at all times?

Especially when he was always being so stupidly fucking charming. Sure the ‘needlessly nice’ stuff wasn’t something he particularly appreciated, but it was starting to grow on him, if only on the amount of restraint he must have to keep it up all the time.

Soooo yeah maybe he was purposefully pushing their luck a little, but in his defense he wanted to see how much desire based frustration it would take before ol’ Blue would just pin him against a wall and make him regret wondering.

--

Syntax had shooed him away from being a nuisance at his worktable, so naturally, Huntsman had to go be a nuisance at someone else’s worktable. Thankfully Sandy was far more agreeable to the company, and thankfully the bid of ‘Bugging Syntax first’ kept his alibi solid. He wasn’t just going over to see Blue he just wanted to be a louse and his normal target had already locked him out of his room. And so nobody really suspected anything when he started to peer over Sandy’s side to watch him tighten this or that thing on this or that device.

And it was pretty damn fun to see just how much of a ‘nuisance’ he could be. This particular bout resulting ih Huntsman being pressed against the car engine Blue had been working on, feeling the orange hair slide between his claws and messing up the stylized mohawk and shuddering when he felt those huge hands almost entirely encompass either of his thighs while keeping him aloft. He hissed through his teeth as he felt Blue give one of his legs a testing squeeze and rolled his hips forward a bit-

“Fish Demon? I need to get another set of eyes on these schematics or I'll actually go insane.” By the time Syntax looked up from his clipboard Sandy was working on the engine again and Huntsman was leaning against his work area and had barely had the opening to whip out one of his knives and his portable sharpener.

Though Sandy’s hair was unable to be fixed and fell to a side as he smiled at Syntax and took the offered blueprints from him.

--

He wasn’t a big fan of those domestic snatches of time, he wasn’t.

It was mostly an instinctual response, Spiders were pack bonders, so of course when his internal senses started categorizing Sandy as ‘pack’ then he’d relax without intending to while being pulled in with a hand on his waist.

Which was definitely the reason why he was curled up to Sandy’s side, the cool slick feeling of his scales strange against his more leather-like skin. That stupid instinct was the only real reason why he felt so comfortable and like he could practically fall asleep like this.

He felt Blue’s hand gently start running up and down his side and dammit that wasn’t playing fair, it wasn’t his fault that he had been having sleeping problems lately and was rapidly getting drowsy.

He could feel Blue’s hum as the world started to drift away-

“Hey Sandy what do you think- Uhhhh”

“Oh, hello Xiaotian.”

“You know you’ve got a spider on you, right?”

“Oh yeah, Looked like he was having some paranoia problems, took a bit of wheedling to get out but Huntsman here was up for like four days straight ‘till now!”

“Did… Did you slip him your sleepy tea?”

“Of course not! That would be super unethical! Also I'm pretty sure he’s still semi conscious and passively listening without any critical thought right now since he only just dozed off and would probably wake up angry if he overheard anything like that!”

“....right… so anyway-”

--

The brat knew.

Dammit he knew the brat knew. She definitely fucking knew.

He should have known better than to try anything with that Professional Snoop underfoot. But He’d had plans with Blue before having to get stuck with the brat tonight because the Queen needed Syntax’s expertise and the Sister was on shift at work and Goliath already had plans doing who knows what, and he was stuck with Minyi since he ‘didn’t have any plans’

He’d dragged his feet on the idea of cancelling with Blue, but he’d fucking done it so nobody could say he didn’t contribute to the upkeep of their clan’s youngest. It was just his luck that Sandy had been fine with coming over instead, and the brat had overheard some of the conversation and got excited about ‘Mr Sandy’ coming over to visit. The brat had insisted on stringing some of her fake flowers into his hair before he arrived, after dubbing him ‘suitably pretty’ (her words) she’d done up her own hair as similarly as she could because he certainly wasn’t helping her with her weird pre-’company is coming’ rituals.

And… Blue was a hit with the brat. He had an infinite amount of patience for the inane childish babbling, stooped low so she could string the remaining fake flowers in her possession (why did she have so many fake flowers?) into his beard, and offered to fix dinner for the lot of them (which was for the best since the brat was such a picky eater she could barely stomach some of his specialties)

And… he was not jealous of a six year old for how she was able to crawl into Blue’s lap while the lot of them watched some inane mystery show for the character drama alone since the brat called and explained the mystery within the first three minutes.

Blue was a bit awkward on the sofa, it made sense, Goliath would normally sit on the floor for how the height and width of the couch was not designed with bigger demons in mind, and Blue was considerably bigger than Goliath. So while the brat was cozy as could be in the place of honor, Huntsman was stuck perched on the arm of the couch as to not be crushed into it trying to squeeze in beside Blue.

Not that that would be a wholly unpleasant experience, but the presence of the brat made it go from tempting to awkward. Nonetheless, part of Sandy trying to get comfortable had included one of his arms resting on the back of the couch, and while it seemed the brat wasn’t paying attention, it slid down to wrap around his shoulders.

When the time came Minyi didn’t need to be told it was bed time for her, she loudly announced it herself, changed into her pajamas, and after saying goodnight to the both of them went on with a

“I am going to sleep now! And I will not be out of my room until morning so if anything were to be happening I certainly won’t know it, because I will be asleep.”

She smiled widely at Huntsman and closed her door.

Nosey little brat.

--

Tang huffed a quiet laugh as Sandy gingerly began to lift Huntsman into the air, his broken leg not quite able to be splinted just yet, let alone looked at properly. It seemed the lot of them had suffered some pretty nasty injuries from this last threat (and no doubt it would have been worse if their team and the Spider Clan hadn’t joined forces) including Tang himself despite being on the sidelines for most of it, he was pretty sure his shoulder was dislocated, and the cut on his forehead was still sluggishly bleeding all over the right side of his face, but compared to some of the others he was basically fine.

So once He was able to pop his arm back into place (Ouch) he took to handling cleanup with the only other ‘perfectly normal person’ here, a woman maybe a few years his junior, he’d seen her every so often with the Spider Clan (or rather, with Syntax) but he didn’t know her name.

“Do you think they actually think they’re being subtle?” Her words caught his attention and he turned to glance at the woman. She was in the middle of splinting Xiaojiao’s broken wrist and at Tang’s questioning glance, she nodded at Sandy and Huntsman. Oh!

“I’m sure Sandy thinks he’s the pinnacle of subtlety” Tang responded. He was pretty sure the ‘thing’ that had developed between their friend and the most brutal of the Spider Clan was the worst kept secret on the team since Red Son had started hanging out with Xiaotian and Xiaojiao on the weekends.

“They are so cute when you just walk in on them.” Xiaojiao said around a snicker. “Like how they jump apart like when you flip a magnet over to the matching side.”

“Does your team have a betting pool? My brother organized one for the clan, and if they do anything damning within the next month i win the pot.”

“No! Ohh man we should get one started up! Hey Pigsy! You wanna make a betting Pool for Sandy and Huntsman’s secret romance?”

“Why the hell would i want to do that?”

“Finally have dirt on Sandy after decades of him never being embarrassed about anything ever?” Tang offered with a shrug.

Pigsy thought for a moment and shrugged back before going back to fussing over Xiaotian. “Sure. Who’s bettin’ what?”

--

send me stuff!

[kitkatopinions]

The sad thing is that Blake's most healthiest option romance wise is someone who gives her space and willing to let her go. Sun fits this description perfectly. But they went with a codependent toxic relationship partially held together by guilt in which one side is clearly submissive and the other too worried and insecure.

Yeah, tbh, the send off to Sun at the start of volume six made me think they would pick up the relationship where it left off eventually for a couple different reasons, but one of them was this reason.

I want to preface this post by saying that A. I don’t really like Bumblebee and I don’t need a reason to dislike it even though I have reason to dislike it, B. I’ve shipped BlackSun from Sun’s first introduction, and C. also I’m coming at this as someone who has been in a co-dependent relationship, so all three of those things means I’m naturally a little biased. I’m not pretending this is all a super objective, impersonal interpretation. This is just me talking honestly about my thoughts towards a ship I don’t like. Bees, I’m sorry if this shows up in your tags, Tumblr is being screwy and I’m not trying to rain on anyone else’s posts. I’m using filterables and putting this under a keep reading to try and make it easier for Bumblebee fans to not see this.

I had - when I saw season six’s opening ep - given the show mad props for writing a romance driven relationship where the partners didn’t have to stay together all the time to still care about each other and be secure. It felt like the perfect move to me to get some distance between their characters while firmly establishing that Sun had never done the things he’d done ‘to win the girl,’ and didn’t consider himself ‘letting Blake go.’ Sun not only being willing to spend this time away from Blake, but to not even need it really said, and to have his own stuff he needed to do as well... All of that felt like a healthy, independent relationship. I don’t mean to get personal on main, but I’ve been in a relationship where I felt partially responsible for my partner’s happiness and he tried to do things like keep me from my friends or guilt me into things. I ignored the red flags because our relationship was important to me, but it made me feel pretty unhappy because I was always worried that if I didn’t do the things he wanted, he would get upset and over-react, and put himself down until I built him back up, and if we didn’t spend the majority of our time together, he would start talking about feeling like I didn’t really care that much about him and how lonely he felt. This was really exhausting to me, especially since I’m an introvert.

Sun always seemed like such a good partner for Blake because he was always so self-possessed, so confident in who he was already, independent and happy and accepting of Blake’s independence. Sun was always there for Blake, but he also was the one usually pushing her towards interacting with others too, they were able to go do separate things and even go on completely different missions with confidence and without drama. For a character who had previously been in a destructive, possessive, controlling, abusive relationship, it had seemed like a scene that clearly established Blake and Sun’s relationship as one where Sun wasn’t expecting Blake to stay with him all the time, respected her goals and her independence, and had his own life and his own friends too. I had kind of just assumed that the choice to have Sun leave the group and go to Vacuo was to further their relationship. Upon rewatching the scene later now that I know that the writers were already starting to try to implement Bumbleby, I can see how the show writers might’ve been intending that scene to be an amiable goodbye where Sun confirms to Neptune that they aren’t actually an item with his ‘it was never about that.’ But I just have to shake my head, because I was giving the writers credit for something they didn’t do.

Instead, they were trying to tie off the relationship between Sun and Blake by having him leave, not cementing Blake’s independence and Sun’s encouragement of that (and they tied it off badly imo because Blake freakin’ kissed the boy lol.) And once they had Sun leave, they started setting Blake up with Yang. I want to clarify that there’s nothing wrong with the writers deciding to go with Blake x Yang, and the ship itself was not a totally baseless one. I’m personally disappointed that one of my favorite RWBY ships isn’t going to be endgame, and I personally don’t like the idea of Blake and Yang as a couple. But my problem isn’t really with the ship itself, it’s with how the show writers have chosen to write the ship in execution.

Getting past the queerbaitery nature of Bumblebee as a ship, the choices surrounding Blake and Yang seem faulty on both sides (which I also think is important to remember. I’ve seen loads of people recognizing that Bumblebee as written in the show is destructive to Blake, but I’ve seen much fewer people talk about how it’s not the best for Yang too.)

Let’s start from the fact that Blake is an abuse victim. She was previously in a relationship with Adam and talks about his destructive and violent behavior. Blake has a really hard time trusting people because of how Adam had acted. He was explosive, manipulative, and he got angry at and hurt Blake specifically for leaving him. The last thing Blake would need is a relationship where she feels personally responsible for the stability of another person. The last thing she needs is to be pressured into staying with someone. The last thing she needs is to be expected to be with that person without the option of ever working with others. The last thing she needs is to be in a relationship where she can’t be apart from someone even temporarily without that person getting anxious and insecure or without having to feel guilty and like she did something wrong.

And yet the show has her in a relationship with someone that has abandonment issues. The show has her promise to stay with Yang in a moment of huge trauma, Blake crying out a desperate denial to the accusations of the abusive ex who had made her life hell, after he tried to again separate her from anyone she loved and she was forced to kill someone she had once deeply cared about. It was also a really weird choice of the writers to have the characters respond to a question over if they’d ever thought about working with other partners with dismissive and cold behavior as if the very idea was somehow wrong (especially since Yang spent quite a bit of time pre-volume six working with Weiss and Blake spent so much of her time working with Sun.) And the writers chose to frame Blake and Yang leaving on temporary separate missions in volume eight to result in insecurity and anxiety from Yang and guilt for Blake. On top of that, Yang is a person with a strong temper and aggressive tendencies. Although she seemed to be trying to work through those problems in seasons four and five, Yang backslid and seems just as controlled by her anger and her insecurities as her volume 2 self now, who had lashed out at Blake and angrily pushed her for not listening in ‘burning the candle.’

As for Yang, she lost her mom when she was very young (Ruby was a toddler,) and her dad temporarily shut down after that. She soon found out her biological mom had left her when she was a baby and spent her whole life wondering why while her uncle spent that time flitting in and out of her life and taking on dangerous missions - the same types of missions that had killed the woman who had raised Yang for the first part of her life. Yang has deep seeded fears of being abandoned and losing her loved ones, and she also has a history of trying to take care of and support the people around her even at her own personal expense. While Yang’s more selfless moments in season five - like giving up her dream of getting answers from Raven to follow and protect Ruby even when she clearly wasn’t wholly healed from her trauma - are admirable, what Yang absolutely doesn’t need in a partner is someone who she feels like she has to protect and save and sacrifice for. What Yang absolutely doesn’t need in a partner is someone she feels like she can’t rely on to be there for her. What she doesn’t need in a partner is someone who can’t give her stability or struggles to trust her. What she doesn’t need in a partner is someone who won’t call her out when she goes a little too far. And yet the writers chose to put Yang with someone who runs on the regular, the only member of their team who thought Yang might be lying about Mercury, someone who needs time and distance when Yang clearly needs someone who is consistent and present. And then the writers made it so that Yang and Blake spend very little time with anyone else. The writers made it so that they can’t be apart without guilt and anxieties.

And you guys, Blake in seasons 6-8 feels so needy. She’s consistently in need of saving, consistently doesn’t stand for herself, seems like she needs a lot of reassurance in her relationship, she’s consistently waiting for other people to make moves, etc. Even when Blake convinces Yang to divulge top secret information to Robyn, when Ironwood confronts them about it, Blake backs up and leaves Yang to explain their actions. In the early seasons, it feels like Yang cares more about their friendship than Blake does and that she’s putting in more effort, which don’t get me wrong, makes total sense since Blake had just gotten out of an abusive relationship and Yang’s clear anger problems (and her using a laser pointer to try and force Blake to talk to her,) might’ve made Blake hesitant to get close to or open up to Yang. But while it no longer feels like Yang cares more, it still feels like Yang puts in more work. Yang is constantly reassuring, protecting, comforting, and stepping up for Blake, while Blake is so passive and acts so dependent that I personally can’t help but feel like Yang must be exhausted. Yang needs stability and reassurance too, Yang needs a partner she can talk to and rely on to be there. When the writers did write Blake as trying to comfort and take care of Yang, it was way too much and had undertones of ableism. And I know, I know they had this ‘we’re taking care of each other’ moment when they were fighting Adam, but that’s just what we were told for one scene, and not what we’ve actually seen in their relationship.

The worst thing is that it didn’t need to be that way. Bumbleby could’ve been a really good ship that built on their foundation. Blake used to be an independent, brave, strong, active character. Blake stood up for herself to Weiss, told Ozpin to his face that he needed to do more for the Faunus, used to have a great, creative fighting style, used to be this sassy girl who’d banter with Sun and with Yang and when she did start opening up to Yang, it was a great way to start evolving their characters to be a strong relationship. In V3 when Blake admitted that she had doubts about Yang due to her past experiences with Adam, but opened herself up and decided to trust Yang anyway when Yang looked her in the eyes and told her sincerely exactly what had happened... That was so great and it really showed off the dynamic the two of them were starting to adapt. CRWBY might’ve immediately separated the two, but A. Seasons four and most of season five had great set up for them to work through their problems and then continue to grow that great dynamic we started seeing in the first three seasons. And B. their respective arcs continued their growth as characters even apart from each other. While I wish that RWBY had let the two work some of this out together, the growth that we were getting did make them more suited for each other. I’ll always ship BlackSun. But Yang getting a hold on her emotions, maturing, starting to work through her abandonment issues, and displaying just what a caring, honest person she was, at the same time that Blake was working through her past and her fears, learning to let people in, strengthening her resolve, and coming into her own as a leader... Come on, those two characters could’ve easily developed a good, healthy, strong, independent relationship and I’m legitimately sad that’s not what we got, especially since we sacrificed so much of Blake’s personality to get a worse ship.

I don’t even know what to say about it, tbh. Idk what else the writers expected us to think with how they wrote things. I’ve heard before that there was probably a cut scene in volume eight that included Yang and Blake fighting (which would then justify Yang and Blake’s reactions when they reunited,) and I do believe that, but the writers chose not to include it, and that made them look worse as a couple. Just like they chose not to include a scene where Blake and Yang work through the problem of Blake having left Yang without a word of explanation at the end of Volume 3. And they didn’t include a scene where Blake explains herself and Yang realizes that maybe she was being a little shortsighted about the trauma Blake had also gone through. And they didn’t include a scene where Blake actually learned that she didn’t have to protect or take care of Yang in volume six. And they haven’t included a scene where Blake puts just as much effort into their relationship as Yang does. And they didn’t include a scene where the two make it clear that they’re fine being apart. If anything, CRWBY has established the opposite, and it isn’t enough to just say that they’re taking care of each other, when they don’t show that to be the case. 

Sun being not only willing to let Blake be with others, go her own way, and be her own person, but encouraging of that, made him a very compelling romantic prospect for her. Unfortunately I just don’t see that with Blake and Yang. Their relationship feels co-dependent, and maybe it’s just my personal experience talking and making me chafe, but I personally just don’t like it.

However, fans have been queerbaited long enough. So personal opinions aside, CRWBY give Bumblebee some confirmation you fucking cowards.

[stomp-that-ho-regard]

Retcon

noun

(in a film, television series, or other fictional work) a piece of new information that imposes a different interpretation on previously described events, typically used to facilitate a dramatic plot shift or account for an inconsistency.

verb

revise (an aspect of a fictional work) retrospectively, typically by introducing a piece of new information that imposes a different interpretation on previously described events.

Retroactive Continuity

Reframing past events to serve a current plot need. [...] In its most basic form, this is any plot point that was not intended from the beginning. [...]

Post-hiatus C2, and the Great Retcon... 

(The retconning really started with the playlists, but we’ll come back to those.)

First, some context:

SDCC (July ‘18) - Marisha was asked directly about Beau and Yasha and if she and Ashley had discussed it. “After the first few times that I kinda put the moves on her, we were at break, and I could sense that Ashley was wanting to ask me something. And she was like, ‘Hey, I’m just curious... is Beau- ’ And at that exact moment someone’s like, ‘Yo Ashley! We gotta go! We gotta get on stage!’ And I was like, ‘Bye!’” Then Brian asked, “And you haven’t had a further conversation about it?” Marisha said, “Nope!”

(Seven months into the campaign, and no discussions. Hmm.)

NYCC (Oct. ‘18) - Marisha was asked about who would Beau get flustered over if they ever flirted back, and yes, she said Yasha and laughed, but then said, “It’s like throwing pebbles at a brick wall.” Meaning, she was putting stuff out there and not getting anything back. (And, she really wasn’t. I still remember when a major portion of the fandom, including the diehard shippers [of which I was one at the time], weren’t sure if Ashley was even interested in this. More than that, it wasn’t until the Zuala reveal, that the fandom and the players found out for certain that Yasha was actually into women.) 

(To me, Marisha’s answer here also suggests that at this point, there were still no discussions.)

Talks Machina for ep61 (May ‘19) - Marisha was asked ‘What was going through Beau's mind when Yasha revealed her past with Zuala? Has this changed any feelings Beau might have? Or has Beau's character growth allowed her to mature a little more with regards to her feelings about Yasha?’ Which Marisha instantly pegged as a shipping question. And she said, “I’m trying to figure out a way to answer this to not ruin everyone’s internal canon, in their brains. I don’t want people to overestimate Beau’s intentions towards Yasha. But then also, is that on me? Have I been leading everybody on?”

So, you had all of that, all the way up to ep61.

None of this indicates that ‘it’s been happening since ep1′ or that it’s ‘the slowest of slow burns.’ In fact, it shuts that down completely.

Moving forward to the Beau and Fjord convo (ep108)...

Marisha suddenly having Beau say “There was something about Yasha from the moment that I saw her”. She’s retrospectively attempting to give that moment more weight, when (based on the examples above) we know that the over-the-top flirting was just for fun. And truthfully, she really wasn’t flirting with Yasha any differently than she was flirting with any hot female NPC the party crossed paths with.

And now it’s clear that that one line she said is the reason why BY shippers have suddenly clung on to the idea that “It’s been happening since episode one! SLOooOowBuUuuUrn!!!!!” when its clear that it was not planned. (Not before the hiatus-from-hell, anyway.)

Then Marisha having Beau go from describing Jester as “She's fun. She makes me laugh. I like her ridiculous plans. I think she's complicated and layered.” to “It’s easy to lust after her”. I’ll direct you to Talks for ep85. After Marisha had mentioned that it was a bunch of little things that build, and then pinpointed a few of them, Brian tried to make a joke and said “So you’re saying it’s been more a series, than just one moment that you can point to and say ‘It was right here when I went, let’s fuck!’” Marisha specifically countered that with “It’s not even about 'let’s fuck’. It’s nothing sexual in this case.” (Having her backpedal on this so heavily was such a huge gut punch and was the thing that wholly soured everything for me.)

There were so many better, more delicate ways Marisha could’ve had Beau examine/come to grips with her feelings for both women, but all the reduction and saying they were ‘transferable’ was nothing short of insulting.

On that same Talks episode, Marisha also said this: “Going into this campaign all of us were like, ‘No relationships!’ I didn’t want it! I didn’t ask for this!”, while smiling. What this shows me is that she was thinking of a relationship in regards to Beau’s feelings for Jester. As if she was maybe even anticipating this culminating into something? Why even mention relationships at all if this was nothing serious and was always meant to fall by the wayside?

Brian then followed up with, “In my opinion, as a viewer, Beau’s someone who seems to be on the search for innocence. Whether innocence lost or just innocence in general. And to me it makes sense that you would be attracted to someone who exudes genuine and sort of intrinsic innocence.” Marisha replied with “Fairly astute.”

The next question was, ‘Beau has taken a pretty casual, no-strings-attached approach toward sex and relationships so far. How do her feelings for Jester compare to her previous romantic flings?’ Marisha answered immediately and very seriously with, “Noncomparable. It’s more than that.” She wasn’t playing coy and it didn’t take her a century to find the words. She didn’t even have to think about it. Succinct and direct.

How did all of that ‘organically’ disappear completely, after only 14 episodes?

(Everything felt more genuine back then, because it seemed like Marisha was going where the character was taking her, and not where she thought the character should be going.)

Post-hiatus, everyone and their mother are acting like BY is some epic romance-of-the-ages that was all mapped out, and like Beau having feelings for Jester was just some sort of temporary curveball. That Beau was confused, or was just missing Yasha and projected onto Jester. 

That’s really fucked up no matter how you try to justify it. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen another piece of media backpedal this hard, and this callously.

None of that squares with what we were shown or with what we were told. Until, everybody made a hard pivot and now they've done (and continue to) do everything they can to rewrite campaign history, even though we have plenty of footage that contradicts the new ‘company line’.

Now, where the retconning truly began, with the playlists...

Remember the first round of playlists? Those were released randomly, whenever the cast felt like posting them. I also don’t remember there being announcements every time one came out either.

This time though, they had a fixed schedule, complete with official twitter announcements. As they started to just get back into the swing of things, Yasha’s playlist was released right after the first episode back.

So, right out of the gate, they had to make sure they started to drill home a certain mindset for viewers. That’s why Yasha had a song called ‘Let Me Hold You’. (Lo and behold, a few episodes in, Beau randomly asks Yasha to hold her.)  A few weeks later, Beau’s playlist was released, and there was a song with the caption saying ‘Ultimately, all she really wants is someone to hold, and someone to hold her’. (But sure, no planning here! The wording is just a total coincidence, folks!)  

The other song, directly about Yasha, mentions ‘a crush forged in battle’ (ok), and ‘awkward flirtations’ (???). Yasha never openly flirted with Beau before the hiatus, until maybe right after the Obann arc, in a very vague way.

On Beau’s playlist, there’s nothing about Jester. The one track that mentions her is actually about Artagan. Which, after all they’ve been through together, is fucking ridiculous no matter how you slice it.

In addition to that, Marisha had made Beau’s time in Kamordah (ep92/e93), and the incidents with her family and the Hag, about the group now, not about Jester, fully contradicting her own reiterated words that ‘Jester saved Beau’.

When Beau was talking to her dad, reverting back to her old self and getting all riled up, Jester helped her in that moment, and saved her. Yes, the group was very supportive, and yes, Yasha said something to him before they left the house (that Beau was out of earshot for by the way), but Jester was Beau’s rock throughout that whole thing. 

With the Hag, when the group was having a hard time coming up with a solution, and they realized they might actually lose Beau, Jester stepped up and took control of the situation. She, single-handedly, saved Beau/the group from the Hag. And with that, Jester also became Beau’s hero.

In both instances, Marisha thanked Laura/Jester. First on Talks for ep92 with both of them on it. She reiterated, “You saved me. You saved Beau.” Then on Twitter after ep93 with, “Still processing last night. Saved by a cupcake? Eh - saved by @LauraBaileyVO ... again.” 

But now suddenly, it’s the group. Just the group? 

Now, don’t get me wrong. The entire party showing Beau support was incredibly important. The M9 showed her that they value her, that she’s important to them. It solidified the theme of ‘found family’, which was beautiful. But, to not also highlight how crucial Jester was in all of this, after making such a big deal about it? 

That is very deliberate retconning of some hugely important, highly emotional moments for Beau that directly involved Jester.

Any of Beau’s organic and genuine connection with Jester (which encompasses their deep friendship as well as Beau’s romantic feelings) has been massively reduced (and now erased), specifically to prop up a supposed ‘deep’ connection with someone else that was barely ever there, is still barely there, and has no actual depth at all.

Case in point, the BY date (ep126) showcased this fact to the most extreme degree...

Yasha’s infamous line: “I fell in love with you in Kamordah.” So, Yasha literally watched Beau relive her childhood trauma, and caught feelings during it. I’m not wrong in thinking that that’s just a little disturbing, am I? Also, if that’s the moment she supposedly fell for her, why did she not offer her any form of help? I mean, besides that one sweet moment with TJ, the entire time Beau was in Kamordah, she was the most broken down she’d ever been and needed some real comfort, which is something Yasha did not give her. (Jester did though. In spades.)

So, on multiple levels, this seems highly out-of-place. 

Several people have said that that line was not thought through. In my opinion, it actually was thought through and was only said specifically to have viewers completely dismiss everything else that happened in the Kamordah episodes. Despite the FACT that Beau and Yasha barely interacted during those episodes, they have now stripped down the party’s experience there, and twisted it into a giant BY shipping moment. (Further feeding into the retcon.)

Their ‘trip down memory lane’ was laughable. Most of the things that were mentioned, Yasha wasn’t even around for. 

Gee, remember when the cast was actually good at separating what they knew from what their character knew? When you start injecting what you know into your character (who isn’t supposed to know, because they literally were not physically there), you are metagaming. 

The entire date was one big metagaming bonanza. And it had to be, or else they would’ve had nothing to talk about. There is not one thing they have to call their own. To people who don’t have BY tunnel vision, it was made glaringly obvious that they have nothing in common and their dynamic is fairly shallow. Meanwhile, the rest of the cast are sitting there watching this unfold, smiling and nodding along as if it all makes perfect sense and isn’t utterly ridiculous. (And I’m sitting here wondering when I got shunted into the Twilight Zone.)

The shallowness holds true for FJ as well. Aside from both of them being from the Menagerie Coast, what exactly do they have in common?

While Fjord has grown as a character, as far as Jester goes, he still does not seem to have the capacity to fully understand her as a person, or fully respect her abilities/emotional strength/intelligence. He doubted her often, which led to Jester getting irritated with him several times over the course of at least the last third of the pre-hiatus episodes. He even continued to doubt her judgment (in regards to the Traveler) in the post-hiatus Rumblecusp episodes. But hey, they’ve kissed now (ep118) so all of that gets wiped clean, and he’s being touted as her ultimate romantic soulmate who’s oh-so-perfect for her.

For fuck’s sake, why does that sound like something pulled right out of a CW show?

(I'm convinced that the only reason FJ is ‘popular’ is because the shippers have projected Travis and Laura’s real-life marriage onto the characters. If Fjord and Jester were played by different people, or Travis and Laura were not together, people would realize how paper-thin and half-assed this pairing is and hardly anyone would care about it.) 

Beau and Jester had developed the deepest, most genuine friendship and overall dynamic in the entire party, that should have absolutely been given the chance to be explored further. They constructed a pretty solid foundation that could have easily been built upon, and the fact that it’s been unceremoniously pulverized and snuffed out in favor of such overwhelming tepidity and flavorlessness will never not infuriate me.

Finally, to finish this off, I will say with my whole chest, that that is one of many nasty, rotten patterns that I’ve seen far too much of in all kinds of scripted media, which is...

Not wanting to commit to the thing that’s actually growing organically, because it’ll ruffle too many feathers. It’s too inconvenient. It gets in the way. Because of course, nobody wants to do that. Nobody wants to take a risk, or you know, actually follow where the natural fucking chemistry is taking you. Of course not! Heaven forbid, we go down a different road! You have to go with what’s ‘expected’, no matter what, at the great expense of something new that’s come along that’s clearly better. Even when what’s expected is hollow as fuck and doesn’t make sense anymore, because characters have grown and dynamics have changed, they decide to dig their heels in with the most fanservice-y options instead.

Yet this is UNSCRIPTED media. A D&D campaign, that’s supposed to be mostly improvised. D&D, that’s all about taking chances/going with your gut/making bold choices/etc., from people who have claimed up and down that they “like to see things play out at the table”.

So why are those same disingenuous patterns being utilized here too?

One of the big reasons I got into CR was because I naively believed that because the format was different, that the storytelling would be different. I thought I wouldn’t have to worry about running into this nonsense here. That I wouldn’t have to worry about getting bullshitted, jerked around, and having my intelligence insulted left and right, but alas, here we are.

In conclusion...  [TL;DR, kinda?]

Reframing past events (between B & J, and B & Y) to serve a current plot need (railroading BY):                                                                                      

Beau playlist ignores Jester’s importance to what transpired in Kamordah. (minimizing/erasure)

Beau playlist doesn’t acknowledge/hint at Beau’s feelings for Jester. (total erasure. could have at least included a song about feelings being lost, or being confused about feelings for a friend, but Marisha took the cowardly route, and didn’t bother mentioning it at all.)

Beau playlist claims that Beau and Yasha have both been flirting forever. (easily debunked by session footage.)

In her conversation with Fjord, Beau says, “There was something about Yasha from the moment I saw her”. (it was just about hooking up then, and stayed that way for a majority of the campaign. This line suggests that Beau has had ‘deeper feelings’ for and/or has been ‘in love’ with Yasha since the first episode, that this was all intentional build-up, which again, is easily debunked by session footage, panels, and TM.)

In her conversation with Fjord, Beau says, “It’s easy to lust after her.” (minimizing/erasure/twisting of Beau’s feelings for Jester, which Marisha had previously stated were ‘noncomparable’ , ‘more than that’, and that her attraction is ‘nothing sexual in this case.’)

This isn’t a fucking conspiracy theory. This is plain evidence of a planned retcon.

[yoditorian]

lacuna- part 1

din/reader

she’s here!!!!! she’s here!!!!! i decided to split it up into parts to give me more time to write and put u all (ellie) out of your misery. thank you for being patient, and thank you to everyone who was so kind about the teaser!! 

set waaaaaay before the series, this is Target Practice Din

MASTERLIST

word count: just shy of 2.5k

warnings: some swears bc it’s me, overuse of italics, probably some spelling mistakes, non graphic smut but it is Highly Implied, so for that reason 18+ only pls no babies.

“Have you ever removed your helmet?” 

“No.” He grits out.

“Has it ever been removed by others?”

“Never.”

He’s lying.

___________________

You practically fly down from the cockpit the second you touch down, shoving Ran between the shoulder blades. He stumbles down the last few feet of the ramp, and skids across the ground on his ass. In any other situation, you might have laughed. But in any other situation, you probably wouldn’t have pushed him.

“What the fuck was that?”

He only sputters out a half baked excuse about the mission, it’s enough to have you drawing your blaster. Only it's not in the holster you keep strapped to your thigh. 

Your gaze is cold as ice as you turn to see your gun dangling from Mando’s index finger. He stands above you on the ramp, apparently unaffected by your outrage even though Ran’s actions could have ended very differently for all four of you. Xi’an laughs haughtily from a crate inside the ship, she’s lucky you’re unarmed. 

“He almost got us killed.” You reason, not even sparing a glance at the man still cowering from you on the floor. Mando shrugs. Like it's nothing. 

“And yet, we made it.” He says, dropping the blaster back into your holster as he descends the ramp.

You’re all only alive because you were quick enough on your feet to take over, because you were on the guns, because you made the lightspeed calculations mid-dogfight to get the fuck out of there. Something everyone else seems to have conveniently not noticed. Ran’s on his feet, dusting himself off, Mando has already stalked off into the hangar, and Xi’an’s hot on his heels. You heave an annoyed sigh, adrenaline leaching the energy from your bones, and scuff your boots the rest of the way down the ramp. Ran catches your arm when you pass him, grip just a little too tight to be friendly.

“Empire’s always looking for pilots, I could just put you back where I found you.” He says lowly as you rip your arm from him. It’s not an empty threat. He knows there’s nothing left for you on Corellia besides an arrest warrant and a swift execution. There’ll be bruises in the shape of his fingertips by morning, you can feel them already. It’s not the first time and, if you’re being honest, you know it won’t be the last. The pouch of credits Qin hands you for a job well done makes that particular pill a little easier to choke down, at least. 

Your room at Ran’s space station isn’t much, but you’ve done what you can. There’s only a bed and a desk, the matching chair missing long before you moved in, a shelving unit and a viewport. An old blanket, loosely crocheted and full of holes, lies crumpled atop the sheets. It was white once, used to swaddle you as a baby, but that was before the sweat and the ash and the bloodstains. It’s the only thing you’d brought with you when you had to run, wrapped around your shoulders to shield you from the night’s chill at the last minute. You hadn’t even had time to put shoes on. The viewport window is another comfort, barely bigger than the datapad that lies forgotten on your pillow, but you pay the boss dearly for your view. Lights blinking on the ceiling reflect in the scratched glass, and the mismatched floor panels creak under your weight as they always do. It’s home, even if the space station itself feels like the loneliest place in the universe sometimes. With one last glance at the swirling stars as the station slowly turns, you’re practically asleep before your head hits the pillow. 

You have to pee.

One look out into the corridor presents you with closed doors and lowered lights. Sleep hours, then. It’s hard to keep track of time when it’s always night outside, although living off-planet isn’t so bad once you get used to it. Rest here comes when you can get it, as opposed to the fancy artificial sunrise/sunset lighting cycles you’ve heard about on inner rim stations. It doesn’t sound like anyone’s awake to judge you for shuffling to the bathroom in your socks anyway. 

The light is too bright in comparison to the dim hall, and you almost jump back from your reflection in the small mirror. Bloodshot eyes, rumpled shirt, you really should have done something with your hair before you passed out. You’re sure you’ve never looked more exhausted. Sleep hasn’t come easy in the few years you’ve spent on the station, dreams plagued by flashes of the reason you came here in the first place. Running, choking on the smoke in your lungs, an old friend’s blood splattering across your cheek. The only rest you really get is when you work yourself down to the bone, until you can’t keep your eyes open anymore, but you know you’re not the only one. 

The door across from yours is open when you go back to your room, Mando standing in the frame, backlit by a lamp like he’s the hero from one of those propaganda movies you snuck into as a kid. You pause in your own doorway, it’s probably a bad idea to call him out on it. It’d probably only start an argument and then you’d have to deal with the only person you could count on to watch your six being mad at you.

“You should have backed me up earlier.” Your mouth takes the decision away from you. He waits for a moment, silently, like he’s expecting you to say more. But you leave it there. 

“I did.”

You’re turning to shut the door when he finally answers, and it takes everything in you not to shout at him in the middle of the hall.

“If that’s what backing someone up looks like to Mandalorians, then I think I’d rather you didn’t at all.” You hiss, exhaustion feeding into your anger. It’s not the way you should be speaking to him, or anyone, but you’re just too tired to care.

Mando’s spine goes rigid and you almost regret the dig, not that you have time to think about it before he’s walking right towards you and backing you into the darkness of your room. You can just about see the ceiling panel lights blink in the reflection of his visor. It’s only as he moves that you spot the bag slung over his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” You ask, barely a whisper. You’ve never been this close to him before, chest to chest, alone. The warmth you can feel even from under the armour threatens to make your head spin. 

“Home.” He leaves it at that. Never one to use more words than he needs to. You didn’t even know he had a home to go back to. There’s a lot you don’t know about the man in front of you, but he’s loyal to the bone. That much is plain to see.  

“Don’t you ever think about going home?”

“My home is here.” Your answer is final, although you can feel the raised eyebrow through his helmet. You’re no more attached to the space station than you are any of the planets you’ve yet to visit. It’s not home, nowhere is. But you’ve been here since you were sixteen, years before the rest of your team, it’s as close as you’ll get to belonging somewhere. Mando doesn’t respond, doesn’t ask any questions, only stands with you for a long moment. Breathing. He’s good like that. You’ve never felt the pressure to fill any silence with him, he seems to exist so comfortably in it. It’s easier that way, probably for you both. You don’t know much about Mandalorians, the only stories you’ve heard are the ones Qin told you drunk in a seedy cantina when Mando first joined. Horror stories. If his past is anything similar to yours, he’s grateful for the absence of questions too. 

“So it’s goodbye, then?” You’re yet to break his stare.

“Yes.”

Is he closer, somehow?

“Would you have said goodbye if I wasn’t already awake?” 

He’s definitely closer. 

Mando reaches behind him to tap the control panel on the wall, sliding the door shut and leaving you in the darkness. He lets his bag slip off his shoulder, lowering it to the floor suspiciously silently for one you know is crammed with weaponry, and walks you further into the room. You can’t really see much at all, only the steady blinking of the little red lights in the ceiling. 

“You trust me?” It’s so quiet, you wonder if you imagined the words. 

He’s never given you a reason not to. 

“Keep your eyes closed?”

“I promise.”

It takes a moment before he lifts the lip of the helmet high enough, and another long few seconds of just being without barriers for him to kiss you. And kiss you he does.

The breath you get in before your lips touch is all him, turning your insides to liquid gold. Everywhere he touches you sets a fire. For a man so rough, he is so careful, he handles you as though you’ll break at the slightest breeze. As though he is wholly undeserving of such sweetness. Part of you thinks he’s convinced he is. It’s a first and a last kiss, a hello and a goodbye kiss, the way he tries to suffocate himself in you is evidence enough that you won’t be here again. You won’t get to have him like this again. He stays close when you finally break apart, taking his helmet off completely and placing it down on your desk with a decisive thunk. 

“Mando-”

“Din. My name is Din.” He shouldn’t tell you. He shouldn’t have taken his helmet off, he shouldn’t have even thought about it. Although his fear of losing everything he has is almost overwhelming, it’s nothing compared to this. The fear that you would never know him as he is, as he has always been. The relief that brings tears to his eyes when you don’t shy away, when you lean into him. Like you want him too. You shouldn’t hold his creed in your hands but he gives it willingly. Of course he does. He’s never really been able to deny you anything. 

“Din.” 

The smile is so clear in your voice as you whisper it back to him. The way you say his name sounds like a song. A prayer. Hushed and reverent like it’s something sacred, something holy. He knows it’s safe on your tongue. Din lays you back on the bed, gently, wool of the ratty blanket soft against your skin. 

Din. He’s nothing but gentle with you. Hands barely there as they pull layers of clothing from the both of you, stripping himself of his armour, of The Mandalorian. Until there’s just him. Just a man, no more and no less than anybody else. A man who wishes he hadn’t been so stubborn and dismissive of his own desires; wishes he’d given in to this, to you, sooner. His mouth doesn’t leave your skin for a second, like he could digest you one kiss at a time if he tried hard enough. Part of him doesn’t want to leave, he wants to stay in this bed with you in the dark and just exist. Your body in his hands and your moans in his mouth and absolutely nothing else. He needs you in between his teeth, on his tongue. He’s never needed anything else quite so badly. 

The emotion isn’t lost on you, it’s the first and last time you’ll ever be with him. He’ll go after this, you don’t pretend otherwise. You won’t get to have him, in any way you want to, after this. So you lose yourself in him, in everything he gives and takes on those threadbare blankets in your room. The taste of him gets committed to memory and you swear you’ll never eat again if it means his sweat stays on your tongue. You dig your nails hard into his shoulders, you hope he’ll look at them before they fade. Hope he’ll see the marks you gave him and know that he is wanted. He is so desperately wanted and he has no idea. You kiss him with reckless abandon, cards on the table in all but words. So he can know, so he can come back. If that’s what he wants. 

You stay tangled with him for a long time. Spit cooled and sweat dried. You’ve never stayed this long with anybody, but you’re not speeding to the ‘fresher. You want to drench yourself in everything he is until you never feel without him again. 

“Take the Razor Crest. She’s old but virtually untraceable, and faster than anything else in that hangar. I think you can handle her.” You laugh lightly, tracing a finger over the ridge of his wrist where his arm is curled tight around your chest. Din wishes he could drown in the sound.

He takes your advice, once you’re asleep. Once he’s convinced himself to pull away from your warmth and go back to the life he knows. The one without you. The Razor Crest looms over him in the empty hangar, but something about its presence is comforting when he knows you were the one to put her together. 

“He took the fucking Crest!” 

The shout from the corridor jolts you awake, significantly warmer than you should be, and you find your old shirt and sweatpants pulled back on your body. Din. The thought of him so carefully redressing you, touch gentle enough not to wake you, makes your heart swell. It shouldn’t, but you can’t help it. With a heavy sigh, you flick the lights on from the panel by your bed and pull yourself to your feet. The door slides open with a wave of your hand by the door panel and you’re met with a very angry, very red-faced, Ran.

“You wouldn’t know anything about this would you, sweetheart?” He grounds out, eyes zeroing in on the mark you know Din sucked into your shoulder only hours ago. You pull the neckline of your top back up to where it should be and shake your head tiredly. Even if you hadn’t been thoroughly rammed into your mattress the night before, it’s far too early for anyone to be shouting up a storm. The rest of the crew come filtering out, rubbing eyes and calling out accusations at each other. It’s enough to give you a headache. 

Maybe a space station in the middle of nowhere isn’t a forever home after all. Maybe there’s somewhere else out there for you. Maybe it just took somebody else taking the leap to make up your mind. 

You don’t know where you’ll end up, but you have a pretty good idea of where to start.

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