#gonna start a fucking renaissance

[echoing-gravity]

MLB X MCU AU in which Marinette gets revealed as Multimouse to the entire world

Because Alya cant be trusted to be responsible with a camera.

Every-fucking-one knows now. hawkmoth. her PARENTS. Hell even TONY fucking STARK knows she was a hero.

and then her parents make/force her to take Style queens offer to intern in NYC, because, from their perspective she is not safe in paris. and like- the AVENGERS are in new york so surely it must be safe there. so they pack up and move their entire bakery business.

and she ends up going to midtown high-school, where not to her knowledge, fellow teenage superhero Peter parker aka "Your friendly neighborhood SPIDER-MAN" goes to school.

Cute adorable shipping commences.

peter is all like "omg another teenage super hero???!!! like me???? i thought i was the only one???? transferring to MY school?!!! SO COOL!!"

"marinette is super smart, marinette is pretty, she was one of THE Miraculous Ladybug's sidekicks how cool is that??!, marinette is COOL!! maybe we can be friends? how am i gonna talk to someone that cool though?? i cant tell her my secret identity!!!"

insta-crush. peter is a marinette SIMP

(and yo, dont get on my case about marinette being super fucking smart, this is the girl who figured out she was getting a birthday party from just seeing one of her friends holding a bike pump. that girl is a tactical genius! she just has self esteem issues. they are both nerd, their just nerds about differnt things, let the nerds date!!!!)

of course Marinette still has the ladybug miraculous -even tho everyone thinks she doesn't have the rat miraculous anymore- and the miracle box. so she can still fight hawkmoth because the horse is basically fast travel irl, Space miraculous super conveintent.

(also concerning the mirsacle box, im going with my headcanon/Unlucky 13 AU on what that looks like post "ladybug becomes guardain" because that egg thing from canon? fucking lame

These ones^^^)

It would be canon compliant till season 2 and most? of season 3? but like fuck miracle queen, season3 finale + truth made me stop watching the show. so like in this au, lets just assume Fu is dead, and ladybug has had the miracle box for some time now. and that they got the miraculous when they were 13, and are currently 15? yeah? okay.

(also prolly chat salt, it doesn't HAVE to be chat salt, but like- He. Keeps. Trying. To. Quit. And leave all the work to marinette!!!! its happened like 3?? times now? Marinette CANT quit!!! its literally "do this or lose all your memories!!!" she is being held hostage by a fucking magic box full of responsibilities no 15 year old should have to deal with.)

I headcanon that marinette stress-bakes, so like cute scene number #1 after peter and marinette become friends, could be something like "marientte stresses for a test, and then bakes to much food so her parents make her take it to school to share with her peers, and she ends up giving like- 1/2 of them to parker, becuz of his super high metabolism.

and how marinettes got her whole "i'm RESPONISBLE!!! for the whole fucking universe now, omfg i'm the reason fu is basically dead" angsty shit going on which kinda parallels peters whole "i have super powers, and if i dont do something to help then its my fault if someone gets hurt, like how my uncle died. With great power, comes great RESPONSIBLITY!!!" angst. maybe they could trauma bond. who doesn't like a good hurt comfort trauma bond fic?

marinette likes designing fashionable but also functional clothes.

peter likes designing gadgets and techy things. let them be nerds together!!! in love!!

i feel like they would be the kind of couple/friends to just ramble on about their passions and they would listen to each other even tho they dont know much about each others interests yet. (also hey what if marinette and peter co designed one of peters early suits pre-stark suit??? the fucking writing potential this ship has omfg c'mon ppl!!! why are we sleeping on this??)

oh! and maybe peter figures out that marinette is also ladybug -but later on- cuz like, he has superhearing? and tikki isn't as subtle as she thinks she is.

and then he's all in awe like "Wow holy shit!!! she made her ladybug secret identity FOOLPROOF!!!! no one would ever fucking suspect!! maybe she can help me with mine???"

Fox miraculous shenanaigans insue????? The daily Bugles next headline be like: "SPIDER-MAN SAVES SI INTERN PETER PARKER FROM ETC ETC"

( the media thinks Ladybug and Chat are 1000+ years old due to that thing alya found in that museum that one time. and the fact that people know that Thor and Loki are super old.

Ladybug's excuse to the public for letting a teenager, Nay! for letting a THIRTEEN YEAR OLD CHILD use an extremly dangerous magical artifact for a little over 2 years, goes something like this: "Marinette was the ONLY person in france- maybe in the whole world! that was compatible with the Rat miraculous, it takes a very smart person to be able to multitask like that, and marinette has a photographic/phonetic memory."

i headcannon that marinette photographic/phonetic memory, and that the Rat Miraculous is the math miraculous that was mentioned in the comics that one time, and that if an incompatible person were to try and use it they would at BEST develop a severe case of split personality disorder/ or schizophrenia, and at WORST their brain would- just- melt out of their ears. )

Also he calls her "Spots" or "LuckyBug" when shes in hero mode.

(i cant think of cute nicknames for peter, ugh "web head" is just something i cant picture marinette saying. what's the french word for spider? what's the french word for cobwebs??)

She prolly just calls him "Webs" or "Spidey"

#miraculous ladybug #spider man #marinette dupain cheng #peter parker #MLB X MCU #if i ever write a fic about this its gonna be called #spectacular miracular #SpideyBug #the ship name is SpideyBug im deciding this now. #there are only like 30 fics on A03 about this ship and we dont have a name for it yet. #me over here trying to convince the maribat fandom to write mcu crossovers #gonna start a fucking renaissance #Ladybug x Spider-man #Unlucky 13 Au #mlb #rat miraculous #mullo #multimouse #bamf marinette

[folkookie97]

❝ every side of you ❞ — jjk

— SUMMARY: ❝Jungkook is a devil when he's fucking you and an angel when he's out of bed. You need his aftercare just like you need his tattooed arm choking you so hard.❞

— PAIRING: dom!jungkook x sub!reader

— TYPE: smut, fluff | non-idol!au, established relationship

— WORD COUNT: 1,201

— WARNINGS: PWP, curse words, rough sex, vaginal sex, choking, spanking, squirting, light dom/sub, degradation kink, mention of safeword, creampie, brief loss of consciousness, aftercare, pet names, dirty talk, unprotected sex, tattooed!jungkook

— NOTES: I'm definitely still freaking out over Jungkook's shirtless live on Weverse.

— RELEASE DATE: July 30, 2023

— CROSSPOSTING: ao3

Jungkook is a rough sex lover. You know better than anyone why this man is the biggest stereotype of a character written by an erotic romance author. No matter the time or place. Jungkook only wants his cock to be inside you.

The sound of your moans is like angelic melodies to him. The expression on your face when you reach the orgasm is more beautiful than any Renaissance art he could admire in a museum.

Jungkook loves having sex with you. Every day and every hour that you both could. Definitely.

For those reasons, you weren't surprised when Jungkook woke you up in the middle of the night for a quick fuck.

Or at least that was the initial idea. But just as he was addicted to feeling your pussy squeezing his cock during each thrust by his hips, you were addicted to the genuine pleasure his tattooed arm gave you during choking play.

“You're a whore, aren't you? You love being choked by me. You love when I don't let you breathe." He laughed listening to the sound of his balls hitting the skin of your ass as the speed of his thrusts increased. "Like it? How do you feel you shitty little bitch?

“So good, Kookie… I love it. You're perfect for me."

Your confession might seem adorable sometimes but Jungkook couldn't tolerate softness within sex. When he pressed his forearm to your throat hard enough to nearly hurt you, you muttered a strangled apology, aware that your mistake had pissed him off.

“That's not what I fucking asked." Jungkook slapped your ass with his free hand, the sight of your swaying ass cheeks causing spasms in his body. Holy shit, he really loved fucking you in doggy style. “I'm asking if you like being treated like the stupid bitch you are. You're my cock slut? My needy and dumb slut?

"Yes!" You moaned louder, the emotion of being degraded taking you closer to an overwhelming orgasm. "Please! Please continue! I'm gonna cum!"

"Such a greedy little bitch..." That snarky laugh came back, this time whispered close to your ear. He bit your right earlobe. "Wanna cum on my cock?"

Each thrust was like a walk in paradise. Or maybe a dance with the devil.

Jungkook understood about your body as well as a conductor could conduct an orchestra. It was no different for you. Your knowledge about the whole essence of his body covered in tattoos was something you acquired very well during all those years together.

So you knew why his hand left the soft piece of your ass to squeeze circles on your clit. He was gonna cum at any moment. He wanted you to cum too. You should cum around him, for him, with him.

"Such a fucking good pussy, holy shit!"

It was impossible for Jungkook not to feel numb from the feel of her pussy squeezing him, nearly crushing his cock because of deep thrusts.

It was like he wanted to break you in half. Hips colliding, his tattooed arm suffocating you, deft fingers rubbing your clit so hard and desperately.

You weren't shocked when an intense burning started at the bottom of your belly. It wasn't the first time that this would happen in a fuck with Jeon Jungkook.

However before you could warn him ahead of time, Jungkook was already increasing not only the speed of his fingers but also the pressure exerted on your clit.

There wasn't much you could do but scream when an orgasm flashed through your mind and a sizable amount of clear liquid squirted from your pussy onto the sheets.

You could hear your name escaping Jungkook's lips in a guttural moan and you could also feel all of his cum filling you in dense charges.

Swearing uttered by your boyfriend and the heat of his cum were the last things you were able to witness before your body gave out from exhaustion and you crashed into the wet bed sheets as you lost consciousness.

Jungkook was always a great boyfriend for you, at these times it was like he was written by Jane Austen. Romanticism was one of the characteristics you most admired about him. He was so soft and affectionate when you two was out of the bedroom.

The aftercare was essential for both of you. It didn't matter what he said or did to you in bed, after sex he became the classic "clingy boyfriend", always worried about you, your body and your mind.

"Are you okay babydoll? You scared me." It was the first thing your brain picked up on when you shook off the blackness of the fainting and opened your eyes.

The second thing you picked up was the fact that Jungkook was lying next to you. Both of you still naked and covered by a different sheet than the one on the bed when you have a squirt.

You might also notice that your skin wasn't as sticky as it used to be. Perhaps throwing it on the side table indicated why.

“I'm already fine, Kookie. Just relax." You failed to smile because you hissed in pain as soon as Jungkook's hands tried to pull you into a hug.

The slight discomfort in your body was enough to make Jungkook's overprotective personality worse; wide eyes and a devastated expression on his face.

"I hurt you babydoll? Why didn't you ask me to stop?"

“You didn't hurt me." It wasn't entirely true. Your skin was already lightly bruised, your throat was burning from the choking and your clit was still sensitive and painful due to the strong stimuli of Jungkook's fingers. However you also loved rough sex and therefore insisted on ensuring how satisfied you were after the situation. “It was perfect, angel. I promise. You know I would use the safeword if we had to."

Jungkook agreed as he hoped in his thoughts that this day would never come. He knew he would hate himself for the rest of his life if he ever hurt you.

“You were perfect babydoll. You're always perfect."

Circling your fingers over the patterns on his arm, you allowed yourself to smile at the praise. It was so sweet and kind. A complete opposite of the Jungkook you witnessed in bed.

You loved both sides of him.

"You like when I wet the sheets and my body slumped onto the mattress like a real doll?"

His cheeks turned red and your playful smile widened noticing his embarrassment.

"Shut up." He teased you in light chuckles. "I really got a worried after cumming seeing you fainting underneath me."

"I bet you got horny first." You teased again and this time he laughed louder rolling his eyes and nodding his head in affirmation.

"Fine! It was really a little hot. But I swear I still was worried."

This time you were the one who nodded.

Cuddling the heat of his chest, your eyelids began to close and the post-sex drowsiness expanded in intensity with each passing second.

“I love you my babydoll. You're perfect."

You chuckled and sealed your lips to the bare skin of his shoulder.

“Love you too, Kookie. Every side of you."

#jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook bts #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #bts x female reader #bts x you #bts x reader #bts x y/n #jungkook fanfic #jungkook reaction #jungkook oneshot #jungkook imagine #jungkook ff #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts reader insert #bts fanfic #bts imagines #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fluff #bts smut

[greenpumpkinart]

wow 3 posts in 1 day that's crazy

anyways i think it's even crazier that people are STILL trying to police this fandom. Pretentious ass ideas in a fandom that was built off of shitty stories we all know and admit fucking suck.

I've been here for as long as I can remember and forgive me if I'm wrong but I'm PRETTY sure we JUST had a renaissance of sorts surrounding "Cringe Culture is Dead". Dude sounds like HOLLYWOOD trying to shit on others for being creative. It's so pretentious and stupid. What was said was said, no deleting the post is gonna do that.

If you can't write. Don't, right? Asshole. Be so fr and get off of your high horse. What you hold so near and dear isn't exclusively yours, as a matter of fact it was never anyone's to police.

It started on a shitty website. With shitty stories. For people to get scared of. I think the only one who needs to do some growing is that fucking guy.

Be silly. Have fun. Create. Don't let a fucking snob shit on everything this community has always been about.

P.S. Realistic Creepypasta isn't an original thought. Read.

#creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #not art #discourse #so sad to see this shit #at least most of the people im talking to are on the same page #2014 ass discourse #stfu and let people have fun

[nautilusopus]

okay FIIIIIINE i'll throw my hat into the Goncharov ring

Been a while i've done a proper movie breakdown, may as well be this one.

Rather surprisingly (but perhaps not too surprisingly given the unexpected renaissance of things like the original Dracula and Breaking Bad on this website out of seemingly nowhere and with very little prompting), I'm seeing a lot of new people suddenly interested in Martin Scorsese's seminal film classic Goncharov, originally released in 1973. Obviously a movie like that doesn't make it coming up on 50 years without generating a lot of discussion about the different ways the movie resonates and why, but coming into it in 2022 there's been so much cultural cruft that's collected around Goncharov that (similar to stories like Fight Club and Scarface) it's a little hard to parse what it's actually about with all the mythologising that's gone on around the characters.

Those movies, in one way or another, are about portraying the downfall of their protagonists -- Fight Club's after ironically creating another system of control and dehumanisation and becoming what he sought to destroy, Scarface's after being consumed by the wealth and power he's amassed. A lot of people assume it's that kind of story, because aren't most well-loved movies? However, I think this is ironically an assumption made because of the genre of film it is. All the people that aren't going, "OMG Goncharov is so cool and badass and fucks bitches," are going, "WOW I can't believe Goncharov is a cautionary tale about power corrupting," and in the process people miss that Goncharov is first and foremost about loss, in all its different forms.

I'm both kind of surprised and frustrated people miss this, given how utterly pervasive the movie is with its clock symbolism -- it's the one thing everyone remembers about it, it was in all the tie-ins. I dunno, maybe that got funneled back into the theory where they're meant to reinforce how Goncharov is just a mortal man at the end of the day, which is fine I guess, but the movie overall becomes a lot clearer when you interpret it through the lens of, "These things are gone and you can never get them back; clocks don't go backwards."

One of the most fascinating things about the movie is how every character embodies a different kind of loss. I'm gonna ease into this and start not with Goncharov but with:

Rybak, who is usually associated with loss as we typically think of it, i.e. the loss of loved ones via death. This comes up all the time, either in his trust issues (why he's being such a prick at the wedding), in the card game (he never bothers to bet much money, knowing he's bad at poker, and still loses all the same). Rybak is terrified of loss, cannot manage it, and ultimately is punished by losing what few people he had left and then being spared by Lorenzo who deems him punished enough, and is forced to survive, to grapple with what his life is now without them.

Goncharov's is actually more subtle, and it's loss of small, insignificant things as a result of the larger losses he believes he's processed. This is something that's frequently contrasted against Rybak. The pawn shop going under is actually a microcosm of this whole thing. Goncharov anticipates that this is obviously going to lead to financial issues for him, plans accordingly to deal with this, and... it works! He's saved! Except that means card games can't be hosted at his place anymore, given it's burned to the ground. Does this matter, in the grand scheme of his life? No, of course not. Poker night still gets had all the same. But it is different now, and always will be. Little things like this continue to add up, until something as insignificant as a towel -- a towel that never should have been in his room, but Sofia is no longer there to drop off his laundry and chat with him -- is ultimately the final nail in a coffin built of insignificant splinters, each one an imperceptible change underneath the much more larger, noticeable story beats of things like grief.

Otto is the big obvious one I'm not gonna linger on: loss of his youth, moments in the past that he wants to redo but can't. Most people at least seem to have gotten this one.

(This is also what the clocks get associated with a lot, which again, doesn't NOT make sense but also if it were just for this one character that, while thematically important, was honestly just a side character with limited screentime and only two scenes, would they really be all over the movie before Otto's name is even mentioned?)

Sofia's a bit abstract, and is the loss of self -- of the familiar anchors we have to who we are, what we think our core principles are, our place in society, who we want to be to our loved ones -- and by the time she dies she is rendered utterly unrecognisable to herself, and is horrified by it. She grieves herself the same way Rybak grieves his wife (even gets a direct visual callback via the way her face is lit when she's burning Lorenzo's check). You see echoes of this in Goncharov as well, but while Sofia is grieving the person she used to be, Goncharov is grieving the world around him (even though really, it's the same world it always was -- time keeps ticking on, one second per second, and neither one of them can ever un-fire that gun).

Lorenzo, tragically, gradually loses his freedom (and maybe in a parallel world would actually be the protagonist of a movie where he chokes on his own hubris like everyone seems to think Goncharov is GRUMBLE GRUMBLE). As he comes into his own more and more by his family's legacy, he is afforded fewer and fewer options about what decisions he can even make. Arguably he was doomed from the start, but the further he clings to power as a means to freedom, the more it drives him to destroying everything he ever (thought he) cared about. The tragedy of his character, and what makes him a good villain, is that he can clearly see what he is doing to himself and he absolutely hates it (his walking out early at the wedding is a tacit admission of this), but his absolute refusal to accept loss, to accept grief and pain and all the awful shit that comes with the human condition, is what causes him to toss aside every out he has because if he has enough CONTROL over his situation, surely he will never have to lose anything ever again. But, really, he already has.

I dunno. Goncharov is one of those movies that is great, and everyone seems to realise it's great, but nobody ever really puts into words why, and that's how you get Fight Club fans lmao. And it sucks because the actual discussion around the movie beyond "it's another hubris story but REALLY GOOD guys" is so much more fascinating and a much more earnest emotional truth that just never gets talked about.

#goncharov #goncharov (1973) #martin scorsese #al pacino #robert di niro #gene hackman #harvey keitel #gaslight gatekeep goncharov

[yokohamapound]

hi uh 😍😍 may I pretty please have more HCs for biting chuuyas neck during sex and how he'd act cause LORD

Yes, yes, you may. I have many many thoughts on this topic~

Characters: Nakahara Chuuya, Chuuya's pretty neck, Chuuya's choker

Contents: NSFW, biting, scratching

Nakahara Chuuya

Have you ever taken a good long look at Chuuya's neck? Who am I kidding, of course you have. Bro has that pretty, slender neck and sharp jawline, all of it accentuated by his bright orange wavy hair. He's like a goddamn Renaissance painting.

And then he goes and accentuates that shit with the black belt choker?

He's practically begging for you to bite his neck.

Kissing his neck is like getting an express ticket to making Chuuya horny. His breath stutters when you wind your fingers in his hair and tug his head to the side or back, baring the long line of his throat.

He's usually wearing some kind of cologne—he takes a lot of care over his appearance, and Koyou wouldn't let him neglect having a signature scent—so he smells amazing when you bury your face against his neck.

The skin is sensitive, all the way from his collarbones to the underside of his jaw. Go nuts, it's the perfect way to make the man squirm and curse. It's better if you start off with light kisses, just brushing your lips against his skin. Little tingles shoot down his spine and it's not long before things get hot and heavy.

This effect is basically doubled during intimate moments. Let's say you're riding him, the kisses are hungry, heavy, barely able to meet his lips because he's bouncing you in his lap... All you've gotta do is lean down and sink your teeth into his pretty neck.

It's like flipping a switch in his brain. Those little jolts of pain combined with the pleasure he's already feeling? Like pairing a fine red wine with a perfectly-cooked steak.

It's partially physical, partially mental. The fact that he's making you feel so good you literally feel the need to bite him, that you want him so much you want him between your teeth. It's carnal and a little possessive of you and it stomps his simp switch.

Expect Chuuya to cuss you out, call you his "little beast", and throw you down on the bed. Your legs are going in the air and there's gonna be bruises on your hips from where he's holding you so tight to drill into you.

If you keep biting at him, you'll be able to feel his groans and curses vibrating against your lips, the throb of his pulse against your tongue. If you combine this with dragging your nails down his back, he just goes buck wild. Like headboard slamming against the wall.

He'll have to go the next few days with lovebites on his neck and scratches down the back, but you know he's feeling smug as fuck.

#yokohamapound #nakahara chuuya #chuuya x reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsx x reader #I had a lot to say about this topic #thank you for coming to my ted talk

[sophies-junkyard]

NOBODY ASKED but… Obviously Simon’s arc in adventure time solidified the series as one of greatest of all time (and I’m so hyped for this ice king sadness renaissance) but now I’m thinking of OTHER Adventure Time moments that rewired my brain as a kid. In no particular order:

1. “Once the strong guys got it how they liked it they said ‘this is fair now. This is the law.’ Once they were winning they changed the rules”. They really had the cartoon dog say that on tv in 2014.

2. “People get built different. We don’t have to understand it, we just gotta respect it”

3. The entirety of All The Little People. That shit was absolutely nuts for a kids show but also like…. I can’t articulate the lesson I just know there was one and it haunted me. The danger of the human ego. Hubris. Irreverence. Don’t play god bro.

4. Lady and Peebles. When PB ripped Ricardio’s leg off and bashed his skull in with it. And it was so hardcore they edited it out of the episode. Bro. I remember watching that after school one day and how my jaw just DROPPED at a PRINCESS being so brutal. They let her be so fucking angry and that was a game changer.

5. [Finn, about a horrific memory] “that one’s going in the vault. Aaaaaaaaaandd. It’s gone.” I quote that CONSTANTLY. It’s a great way to bring levity to a bad situation, but also forces me to go “hey wait a sec that’s not gonna work forever”. Things don’t stay in the vault.

6. Puhoy. He lived an entire life in that pillow world. He had kids. And then it’s just gone like a dream.

7. The deer. It was probably my first real introduction to horror. The hand wiggle. You all know exactly what I’m referencing. Were the candy people stuck in that well for 6 months???

8. What Was Missing!! Obviously now because it foreshadowed (and confirmed past) Bubbline, but back then just because it was so good??? IMO, this is the episode that defined WHO our main cast was, and how their relationships needed to grow for them to be content. It set up the next 6 years of the show! Plus it gave us 2 absolute BANGERS. Ugh i rewatched that recording so many times it wasn’t even funny.

9. Ghost Princess. Really just for the line where he sounds like he’s gonna shit his pants remembering his death and then in a clear narrator voice he’s like “I was a broken man.”

10. The pajama war episode. Now I’m doing this from memory so I could be wrong, but I think this really marks the start of Finn growing up. “I’ve really enjoyed just… hanging out with you.” The ability to start over with someone you’ve got complicated history with. The kindness. The growth from both of them!! It’s a direct parallel of episode 1 but their tones couldn’t be more different and I love it.

11. The slow and horrifying realization that The Mushroom War was nuclear Armageddon. Mushroom clouds. That went so far over my head as a kid even though they reference it constantly. It finally clicked during “I remember you”. Which I am NOT gonna go into because holy fuck that’s like 18 posts on its own.

12. Goliad! A child mirroring EVERYTHING they see, for better or worse. Seeing Jake in a bad moment screaming at the kids and goliad absorbing that behavior. Seeing she can use fear to control people. Also PB was Fucking Crazy! Her line “I’m not gonna live forever… I would if I could” is even more unhinged when we learn (like years later) that she’s already 900 years old. But she does physically age so I guess there’s that. The Suitor also falls into this category of episodes.

Ok getting into some of the more talked about moments

1. OK I LIED I have to talk about I remember you. I was 11 years old. I turned on the new adventure time episode like usual. 10 minutes later I was grappling with a grief I had never imagined before. Absolutely BAWLING not just for Simon and Marceline (the PLOT), but for what it showed me. The reality that every kid tries not to think about: your loved ones will leave you someday, even if they don’t want to. It’s an episode that becomes more powerful with every year I get older. To get a bit personal, dementia has completely taken my grandparents from me. I’ve seen sides of my grandfather that should never have existed, and I must constantly forgive him for what he does… now that he doesn’t remember me. And someday it’ll be my parents. That’s just the way of the world, ya know? Anyways, I remember my mom got home right as the credits were rolling and we had a long talk about keeping people alive with memory, mortality, and how the future was far away and we should decide on dinner lmao.

2. The Hall of Egress. I was almost 15. Life was changing. I was changing, and it was strange and frightening. That feeling where you know you’re losing your childhood but you just want to cling to it. Follow the same old familiar path, stick with what’s comfortable. But life doesn’t work that way. It took me years to really understand this episode and it’s symbolism. Honestly I still don’t think I could fully explain it. It’s like. How do I put this. I was so glad to be in the target age group in that moment. I was so glad that something I was growing up with was assuring me “you’re changing, but we’re changing too”. And isn’t that the theme of adventure time? Everything stays, but it still changes.

3. The absolute horror of Ferns existence. He’s Finn, but he’s wrong and warped. All those memories of the people he loves and they can’t stand to be in the same room as him.

4. Susan Strong. The introduction of a RUNNING PLOT. The show up to that point had really been so goofy and so monster of the week. I think the only really plot heavy episode before this one was It Came From the Nightosphere? And then suddenly they call into question the fact that Finn really is the ONLY HUMAN in all of OOO. And then… is he? It was SUCH a departure from the usual tone. Ending that episode with him reaching below her hat and gasping in shock, but never telling the audience what he found. And then she’s just gone. Which leads us to Islands!

5. Min and Marty. Second saddest episode in the entirety of adventure time, made worse because you know exactly how this family is gonna end up. There’s SO MUCH to dissect about Martins behavior in the series. A reformed con artist receives a traumatic brain injury while attempting to save his son. They’re both lost at sea, and he never looks for him. Was it the emotional trauma? Was it the physical damage? Meanwhile a mother loses her husband and her child in a single night and never EVER learns why. Nobody but Martin knows what happened that night. Also Finns fear of the ocean from season 1 is finally explained. 7 years of ignoring Finns origins and then they throw you THIS??? Watching it live was unreal.

Anyways I’m sure I’ll think of more. I might add on to this later for my own sake lmao, but I’d love to hear other peoples formative moments, quotes, episodes, etc. I really just needed to dump this information out of my brain so I can get on with my week.

#If you see this you’re obligated to comment an adventure time moment that lives rent free in your head #or don’t it’s your life babe #I have nobody in my life who has watched adventure time and therefore I must ramble here to myself #adventure time #princess bubblegum #marceline #ice king #finn the human #fern #Fionna and cake #this is my life #bubbline

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 15: Past

You and Joel have a conversation while on patrol. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-14 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Mention of SA (not described) and general abuse. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 5.1k 

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Kissing Joel. 

You were kissing Joel. 

It was all you could think, for a moment. Like all your head could hold was him, the taste of him, how soft his lips were - he didn’t seem like someone who would have soft lips but his lips were soft and gentle and sweet - the oddly soothing scratch of his facial hair on your skin. For a moment, all you wanted to do was kiss him, kiss him until the day you died. 

You were kissing Joel and you were so close to him, closer than you’d been to anyone in so long and your body was starting to move of its own accord and Joel was pulling you against him and you suddenly couldn’t breathe. You didn’t want to separate from him but you couldn’t breathe. 

He pulled away from you and you squeezed your already closed eyes tight. 

“Sweetheart?” He asked softly. You could feel every twitch of muscle in his body, every adjustment his hands made against you, you were acutely aware of it all. “Hey, you’re OK, it’s just me, I’m not gonna hurt you. Just breathe, you’re safe, it’s just me…” 

You opened your eyes then. His face was still close to you but not so close that you were touching, just close enough that you could make out the different shades of brown in his iris. You focused on that, on the other small details you hadn’t been able to take in before. The different shades of brown and gray in his beard, the creases in his skin. 

It was Joel. You were safe with Joel. Even if he made you feel out of control, you could trust him. He was safe. 

“You with me?” He asked, his voice soothing and gentle. 

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, still feeling a little breathless. 

“Need me to stop touching you?” 

You thought for a moment. You had to close your eyes again and stop looking at him to be able to actually focus on how you were feeling and not on him. 

“Might be good,” you said eventually, opening your eyes again. 

“I’m just gonna move your legs,” he said. “Then it’ll be hands off. You’re OK.” 

You just nodded and let Joel maneuver your legs off his own and settle your feet on the ground before he moved away from you on the tree trunk. You opened your eyes again, part of you resenting the distance but the part of you that felt panicky and out of control calmed enough to let you take a full breath. 

“Sorry,” you muttered after a minute. “I know it seems like I’m completely fucking insane…” 

“It doesn’t,” Joel said gently. You scoffed but his eyes met yours, all soft and open. “It doesn’t, Bambi.” 

You nodded but weren’t entirely sure you believed him. 

“Let’s get the horses settled,” he said. “And we should head in. It’s been a long day.” 

You nodded again, more certain this time. 

You took your time getting Renaissance set up for the night. Focusing on making sure she was secure, comfortable, had enough food and water. Joel finished before you and left you alone with your horse. You gave her a scratch and she lowered her large head enough that you could put your forehead to her own. She huffed a bit when you did, pressing her nose into your chest like a nudge. 

“What?” You asked her, pulling back to frown at her. She huffed again and you glared at her. “Oh don’t act like you’re some expert.” 

She nudged you with her nose again. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you sighed. “You’re right. As usual.” 

You gave her a final scratch before finding Joel again. 

He was outside, leaning against a tree, looking out at the woods. He looked back over his shoulder when he heard you coming, your hands awkwardly stuffed into your pockets. 

“Ready?” He asked. You gave him a single nod. He gave you one back and led the way into the ski lodge. 

You could tell it had been a nice place, once upon a time. The views, even through the dirty windows, were incredible. It made for a good place to keep watch. 

“When you get here, you gotta fill out the log book,” Joel said. “Putting in that we ran into trouble from a scouting party but we don’t expect any more…” 

“We don’t?” You frowned, looking back at him, your arms crossed over your chest. 

“No,” he said almost absently as he made his notes. “He was tellin’ the truth.” 

“How can you know?” You asked. 

“I know.” 

You were quiet for a moment, watching him. 

“Where’d you learn how to do that.” 

He paused his writing and looked back toward you. 

“I’ll tell you if you answer a question for me.” 

You watched him for a second. 

“Fair enough.” 

He finished writing and put down the pen before going to the couch in the middle of the room. It had clearly seen better days but you sat on the opposite end from him, anyway, bringing your legs to your chest and looping your arms around your knees. 

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” 

You said it again, more like a question this time. 

Joel’s jaw tightened for a moment before he spoke. 

“There were…” he paused and sighed. “For a few years after the outbreak, before Tommy and I made it to a QZ… Life was hard. Everything was fucking chaos, FEDRA was busy makin’ shit as bad as possible… We tried to make it on our own for a bit. Had to do a lot to survive. Learned quick how to get necessary answers out of people when we needed to.” 

You nodded slowly, trying to process that. You’d been lucky, all told, in the outbreak. So far removed from the rest of civilization, you’d run into very little in the way of trouble. But what Joel was saying tracked with what you heard from traders, especially over the first few years of it. The people who had come from outside your corner of the wilderness told gruesome stories of what life there was like. The kind of people who were gaining power then. The kind of people  like Mitchum. 

You doubted men like Mitchum and his goons would give information away lightly. It made sense that Joel might need to drag it out of them with pain. And you weren’t about to hold torturing raiders against him. 

“OK,” you said eventually. “What’s your question?” 

He looked at you for a moment, his hands in his lap, before he took a deep breath. 

“Need you to know I’m not askin’ this to hurt you,” he said slowly. “I’m askin’ because I can protect you. I want to protect you. I just can’t protect you from something I don’t know.” 

You swallowed, hard, but nodded. 

“Bambi,” he said slowly. “I need you to tell me about Mitchum.” 

***

He wanted to hold you and he couldn’t. That might be the hardest part of this, there was nothing he could do to help you with it. 

You’d kissed him and, for a moment, it was the best Joel had felt in years. It was like everything else has fallen away, like the rest of the planet outside of you stopped existing. All he wanted was to pull you closer, kiss you longer, hold you tighter, anything and everything to be with you as much as he could be. And then you froze. You stopped breathing and went stock still, like a startled animal, and he had to separate from you because what he wanted was hurting you and that killed him. 

But this might be worse. He knew what he was asking you. But he needed to know. If these men were after you he needed to know what he was dealing with, needed to know how many there were, what they were capable of and why they wanted you. Because he was going to take care of it. He was going to protect you. 

Your eyes were wide and on him and you pulled your legs a little tighter into yourself and he fought to stay on his side of the couch. Touching you would hurt you and he wasn’t sure how to help you. He just needed to stay away from you, at least for now. 

“Joel,” you said quietly, pleadingly. 

“I can’t keep you safe without knowing,” he said, an ache in his chest. “I wish I could but I can’t. I need to know about him, his operation, why he wants you back so damn bad…” 

“You’re not gonna look at me the same,” you said, your voice thick. 

“Sweetheart…” 

“You’re not,” you cut him off. “I know you’re not and…” 

“There’s nothing that someone else did to you or that you did because someone else forced you into it that’s going to change how I see you,” he said. “It’s not possible. So unless you’re tellin’ me that you… I don’t fuckin’ know, skinned puppies in your spare time before the outbreak, you’re not going to change a damn thing, not for me.” 

You laughed a little bit. 

“No,” you said. “Didn’t do that.” 

“I’m not someone you need to be afraid of,” he said softly. “Promise m’not.” 

You nodded and took a deep breath, tilting your head up to the ceiling for a moment before looking back at him, locking those wide eyes on his. 

“It started in September of 23,” you said, your voice almost oddly steady. “I’d developed a bit of a… reputation with the more nomadic folks up that way. Everyone called me Texas, that’s what the first person I ever traded with called me and the name stuck… Anyway, people knew about me, knew that I’d trade horses. So it’s not weird that he showed up looking for me. It was weird that he showed up with a horse already and it was just him and it didn’t feel like he was after horses, not really, not from how he was talking. He told me he ran with a few guys, that they needed mounts and that’s why he was there but… he was asking about my set up, what I had there. He tried to act like it was for trade but there was something wrong with it. He set my teeth on edge and he just kept looking at me. Even when I had my gun on him he just kept looking at me like I was a piece of meat…” 

Joel’s jaw tightened and he tried to ignore the way his heart rate picked up. 

“I told him to get the fuck out and if I saw him on my land again I’d kill him,” you continued. “He came back a few days later. He brought a lot more men that time. I should have just fucking shot him the first time, I should…” 

Your face twisted and you looked away as you almost spat the words at yourself. 

“It’s not your fault,” he cut you off. Your eyes snapped back to him, almost like you were remembering that he was there at all. “You were kind. Not your fault that you were kind to someone who didn’t deserve it.” 

Your jaw clenched for a second before you nodded. 

“He came back,” you took a shaky breath. “I’m not sure how many men he had with them, they were split up, I had defenses in place and shit set up but…” You took another deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment, collecting yourself, before you opened them again. You stared at your thumbs over your knees. “I tried to fight him off. I did, I killed a few of them and I thought… I was overrun. There were just too fuckin’ many of them and there was only so much I could do.

“He took me back with them to a camp,” your voice trailed off and you looked off toward a wall, jaw tight. “I wasn’t anything special at first. There were a few other women there, one who was more of a girl… Guess it doesn’t take much for a bunch of men with guns and no laws to not kill each other all the goddamn time but you have to have something otherwise it’s a bloodbath. Keeping them fed isn’t enough, keeping them out of the elements isn’t enough, you need something that they think makes life worth living, something that makes them OK with blindly following orders. Turns out the best thing is something they can use to get off. Don’t really matter what it is, willing or unwilling, just that it’s a woman and she’s warm. And that’s all I was at first.”

Joel fought to keep his face still and calm, not show the rage that was ripping through him like wildfire, burning and devouring everything. Even the shame and the loathing that he held toward himself. He knew what it took to control men like that. He’d seen it all and sat silent while it happened, too numb to the world to give a shit back then. He thought it was an excuse. That, since he didn’t partake himself, that made him better and that was enough. But it wasn’t. 

He didn’t even need think hard to picture what it would have been like for you. He’d been around that shit plenty, heard the screaming and crying and begging and pleading. It turned his stomach to think of your voice like that, to picture your face and your wide, desperate eyes latching onto him as he passed the men having their way, the nameless women thinking he would help because he’d never touched them. He never did.

“Mitchum took a liking to me,” you said. “I was always his first pick. Probably what kept me alive at first, they had to hold back with me because Mitchum would be pissed if I got killed. The girl died first, a few days after I got there. Another woman not too long after that. I managed to get away after about two weeks…” 

“They’ve been hunting you that long?” Joel asked. You frowned, confused. He frowned, too. “The men you killed before Tommy and I found you, the man now, they’ve been hunting you that long?” 

“No,” you shook your head. “No, they caught me quick. Within days. I didn’t cover my tracks well, I was distracted…” 

Joel froze. 

“How long…” he trailed off, not wanting to ask it. Not wanting to know what the answer was. 

You watched him, shifting as you did, crossing your legs in front of you instead of clutching them close to yourself. You leaned forward a little, almost like you were examining him as he pieced it all together. 

“They had me more than two years.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and swallowed to keep from vomiting. No wonder you’d been so fucking terrified, it was a goddamn miracle you would even speak to anyone at all.You were still watching him when he opened his eyes again, your face softer than he deserved. 

“You survived for two years?” 

You nodded, your mouth a thin line.  

“They got me back and Mitchum was personally offended that I’d managed to get away at all,” you scoffed a little at that. “Decided to teach me a lesson. He taught me several. But, in the end, it just made him more obsessed. He kept me for himself, after a while, but he’d share me with his right hand men. Sometimes some of the others, too, as a reward. That’s how I knew the man from today. He didn’t run with Mitchum’s crew, he was some prick from another group, one that did something big enough for Mitchum that I was apparently appropriate payment. 

“I was the only woman left, for a while,” you sighed. “The others died pretty quick. Others came and went. One lasted a few months, her name was Alyssa. I liked her. Most only lasted a few weeks, a month at most. It was like they would just… turn off. I was so fucking jealous of that, that they weren’t even in their bodies anymore. I couldn’t do that, not really. I think that’s part of why he liked me so much, he liked for it to hurt. You can’t hurt something that doesn’t feel.” 

“I’m so sorry,” he began but you cut him off. 

“I don’t want your fucking pity, Joel,” you were almost glaring at him. “Knew you wouldn’t look at me the same…” 

“It’s not pity,” he said. “You shouldn’t have gone through that. No one should and I’m sorry you did. That ain’t pity that’s just truth.”

You watched him for a moment, skeptical, before you continued. 

“I got away last time with help,” you said. “One of Mitchum’s men thought he was better than the others because he liked it if it at least seemed like I enjoyed it, that fuck. But he helped me get away when we were moving to a new place. It was easier then, about half the men were out scouting like the group we saw today.

“I didn’t think he’d be looking for me, not for this long, anyway. He’s well equipped and has a lot of fucking assholes at his disposal. More than 50 total men last time I saw them, fewer than 100, but he has plenty of friends,” you clenched your jaw for a moment and looked out the window. “Joel, if he’s coming after me and he finds out I’m in Jackson…” 

“No,” he cut you off. 

“I can survive just fine on my own.” 

“No,” he said, more forcefully this time. “No, you’re not leavin’. We know how to take care of ourselves, we’re well armed and we’re not stupid. You’re one of us now, not going to just let you leave because some fuckin’ asshole is threatening you. We can keep ourselves safe and that includes you.” 

It was almost like you didn’t hear him at all, shaking your head and looking outside. 

“Shouldn’t have settled there,” you muttered to yourself. “Should have fucking left…” 

“Bambi,” Joel said, sharper than he meant to. Your head snapped around to look at him, your eyebrows drawn together. He wanted to touch you. He kept his hands on his lap. “No. You should have stayed. It’s safe there, the people and animals there need you, Ellie needs you, I need you.” 

He said it without thinking about it or really meaning to, but he meant the words. Even though he wasn’t sure you were ready to hear them, he meant them. You looked him over, up and down, like you were searching for something. 

“Joel…” Your voice trailed off. 

“I do,” he said. “You think I like spendin’ time with just anyone? That I’m Jackson’s resident social butterfly?”

You laughed a little at that. 

“I’m there because it’s safe and life’s a hell of a lot better than it was in the QZ,” he said. “It’s good for Ellie to be there, Tommy’s there. That’s what I had. When Ellie stopped talkin’ to me, there were some days… Seemed like I was living to pass her in the mess hall. Then I met you and… Seein’ you is the best part of my damn day, alright? Love that you come borrow the fuckin’ guitar all the time since it means I see you all the time. Didn’t ask Tommy to put us on patrol together but I was so damn happy when he did. Jackson needs you and Ellie needs you but I need you, too. Don’t act like you’re not worth us protectin’ because you are. So let us.” 

The two of you sat on opposite ends of the couch for a moment, watching each other. 

“Can I try something?” You asked softly. He nodded. You took a deep breath and then crawled across the couch until you were in front of him. “Just… Don’t touch me, OK?” 

“OK.” 

You sat back on your heels and leaned into him, until your lips were gently against his. You were soft, so damn soft, and he had to fight the urge to pull you closer, kiss you harder. Your mouth grew firmer, more insistent and you moaned into his mouth before you pulled back, your eyes wide as you panted for breath. 

“I….” Your fingers traced your lips for a moment. “I need you, too. I’m sorry I’m so…” 

“Don’t.” 

“I am,” you said. “I know you’re not like them, I know that you’re good and you’re kind and that you wouldn’t hurt me I just…” 

“It’s OK,” he said gently. “I understand.” 

You sat back further from him, still close enough that he could touch you if you wanted him to. 

“I wish you didn’t have to.” 

You got up and went to your pack, pulling out jerky and peaches and water. You came back to the couch and handed him a peach. He frowned. 

“I’ve seen what you pack for patrol food,” you said. “You’ll get scurvy.” 

He laughed a little and ate the peach. 

Things were easier after that, like you’d both decided that the the rest of the day hadn’t happened. You talked about music and movies and what shit was like before and it was light and easy, like he hadn’t tortured a man for answers a few hours earlier. Like you hadn’t kissed him on this very couch. 

The two of you settled in to sleep early, Joel insisting on giving you the couch as he took the floor. You’d only been silent for a few minutes when you whispered his name in the dark. 

“Hm?” 

“Can I come down there?” You were still whispering, like it was a secret. 

He paused.

“Course.” 

He heard you moving, the squeak of old springs in the sofa, the rustle of the fabric of your clothes. You slid against his side and draped part of yourself over him. He slowly, cautiously, arranged his arms around you and you nestled closer. You nuzzled into his neck and took a deep, contented breath, making his heart pound. After a few minutes, your hand slipped up his chest and to his face, your fingertips trailing through his beard and into his hair. 

“Bambi,” he breathed. 

“Can I…” You were still whispering. 

“You can do whatever you want with me,” he said softly. 

You pressed your body tighter to his and pulled his face in close to your own before you kissed him. It was deep and needy and Joel could taste the fruit on your tongue. He kept his hands where you’d let them go before, his fingers pressing tight into your skin. 

“I need you too,” you said, breathless, when you pulled away from him. 

He kissed your forehead and held you close. 

“Goodnight, Bambi.” 

“Goodnight, Joel.” 

*** 

You’d gotten wet again. 

It didn’t take you long to notice it when you woke up this time, the cool slick on your skin obvious as you were wrapped around Joel. 

“Bambi,” he said, his voice strained. 

“I…” it took you a moment to realize what was happening. You were facing Joel and he was facing you, your leg hitched up over his hip. Your heart was racing and you were wet enough that you were sure Joel’s pants were wet, too. You shocked back from him, sitting up as you did, panting for breath. “I don’t…” 

“Think you were dreaming,” he said, his voice gruff. 

“I’m so sorry,” your face got hot and you tried to calm your breathing as much as you could. “I don’t…” 

“It’s OK,” he said. “It’s…” 

“I’m going to go check on the horses,” you took off before he could say another word. 

You all but ran outside, going around to the building with the horses through the early morning fog. Renaissance gave you a tired whinny when you opened the door and you went over to give her a scratch as she pressed her large head against your torso. Your heartbeat started to return to normal and you scratched her neck. She huffed against you. 

“Don’t have to be so smug about it,” you muttered. She impatiently stomped a hoof. “Hey. I’m working on it.” You stepped back and looked down at her. “Let me get your bridle, get you outside for the day…” 

You put some of the tack back on her and led her out to a grassy area where she could graze. 

“Hey.” 

Joel’s voice made you jump as he caught up to you, stopping a few feet away. He put his hands on his hips. 

“Hey,” you said, sticking close to the horse. 

“Look, I understand that you weren’t exactly expecting that,” he said. “And…” 

“I know it wasn’t you,” you said quickly. “I know it was me…” 

Joel nodded slowly. 

“Please don’t run off like that on me,” he said after a moment. You frowned. “If you need space from me, that’s OK, but just… tell me. Please don’t just take off.” 

You looked at him for a second. It had been so long since you’d had someone else’s feelings to worry about, especially with anything remotely intimate, you hadn’t considered that it probably freaked him out. 

“Right,” you said. “Sorry.” 

The ride back to Jackson was almost as uneventful as it was agonizing. You could hardly look at Joel, not after… whatever you’d done this morning. Probably tried to dry hump him into oblivion only to freak out the second you were conscious. Because you couldn’t handle shit like a normal fucking person. 

The only thing that kept it interesting were some clickers that you picked off from about half a football field away. Joel spotted them first and raised his rifle but you stopped him. 

“Can I?” You asked. “Really wanna shoot something.” 

“Go ahead, Bambi,” he smiled a little.

You shot the pair of them in quick succession, a strange satisfaction taking hold as you watched them fall to earth, monsters you were fully capable of felling. There was comfort in that. 

When you got back to Jackson, you rushed to get Renaissance out of her tack and settled into her stall, ready to get home and put some distance between you and Joel. 

You couldn’t trust your body around him. You’d do things before your brain caught up, things that you couldn’t control, things that felt dangerous and made your heart pound in panic instead of desire. 

“Bambi,” Joel said quietly. You stopped your work, not able to help looking at him. “If you need some space… Just know that I’m still here for you. When you’re ready.” 

You could only nod before watching him go, his horse settled for the night. 

You tried to avoid Joel for two days. 

Tried. 

But your life had become so in sync with his, you ran into him everywhere. At the mess hall, on the street, when he came by the stable. He respectfully kept his distance, making eye contact with you, like he was seeing if you were going to talk to him again, and not pushing it when you broke away. 

And while he scared you - the intensity of your feelings for him, the way he knew you now, how your body reacted to his - you also missed him. His kind smile and gentle teasing and soft touch. You couldn’t get him out of your head, the way he looked, the way he felt, the way he tasted. 

That’s where your mind got stuck as you lay in bed, alone, two nights after you got back from patrol. Every time you closed your eyes you saw him there, the way he looked just before you kissed him. There was an ache between your thighs, one that was nearing pain, that was well past wanting and had pushed into need. 

You needed Joel. You hadn’t needed anyone like this in so long - years - but you needed Joel. You needed his hands on you, needed his lips on your own, needed to feel him deep inside.

“I’m still here for you,” he’d said. “When you’re ready.” 

You slid a hand down your body to the apex of your thighs and traced your clit, your sex warm and wet below your fingers. You took a deep, shaky breath and thought of Joel as you circled your sensitive nub, increasing the pressure, working yourself harder and faster. Your orgasm built, the ache in your body becoming more acute, the tightness growing. 

But you couldn’t finish. There was some kind of roadblock keeping you from it, something stopping you from finding relief. And all you could picture was Joel. After a while, you gave up with a whimper and tried to sleep, but you couldn’t do that, either. You were too keyed up, too turned on, too needy. 

“I”m still here for you. When you’re ready.” 

“Fuck it,” you said, buttoning the shirt of Joel’s you were wearing to bed up and changing into a pair of shorts that weren’t wet with your own slick. 

Jackson was quiet as you walked to Joel’s, everyone asleep for the night. You had no idea what time it was, just that it was late enough that you were an asshole for showing up at anyone’s house at this hour. 

You all but ran up his front steps and opened his screen door to knock on the main one with a little too much force. You let the screen door fall closed and you paced, waiting for what felt like an eternity when a light inside switched on. You stopped pacing, almost centered on the front door as Joel opened it, a sleepy expression on his face. 

He was wearing a pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt, his arms looking almost frustratingly sculpted, the fit of the shirt outlining his chest and stomach. The ache in you got worse. 

“Bambi?” He asked, opening the screen door, too. “Everything OK? What are you doing…” 

You couldn’t help it. You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him, pressing your whole body into his. You could feel every line of him you were so close to him and, for the first time, the ache eased. Joel was what you wanted, needed. It was like everything was going to be OK now that you had him with you. His hands went to your waist, holding you to him. He moaned into your mouth, his grip on you firm and strong. 

You pulled back from him just enough to see his face, your eyes searching his. He looked a lot more awake now. You were breathless.

“Can I come inside?” 

He panted and nodded before stepping aside and letting you into his home.  

Next Chapter

A/N: Hiiiiiiii y'all :D

I think we all know what's coming (heh... coming) next chapter, right?

I hope you enjoyed this insight into Bambi's history, too. I don't intend on ever being too insanely graphic with it (though we will see more flashbacks with Mitchum) because I think we all understand what happened to her without going into detail. The violence itself was never the point, just how she heals and reintegrates into society and develops relationships after surviving it.

If you'd like to be alerted when I post, please follow my updates blog here and subscribe :)

Thank you so much for sticking with this story! I know it's been an incredibly slow burn but I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed sharing it. Love you!!

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#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #yearling #smut fic #joel miller x oc

[dombottom]

I sat running through what I was gonna say in my mind. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I had to end it. I was getting sloppy, I was an addict. I just had to stop. I heard my office door click as he unlocked it. He had keys (another bad decision). He walked in. Jesus. He was a walking renaissance painting. He was as volatile and temperamental as Caravaggio too. Years ago as when I’d started as his mentor pretty early on I knew I’d never be able to say no to him. The second he figured it out too, I was finished. He started peeling off his shirt without a word. I fought every urge to fall on my knees and worship him. “We need to talk, we can’t do this anymore. It’s not ok. I take full responsibility for it.” I said nervously. He turned his head, he stared at me with no expression. I’d known him long enough to know that look meant he was furious. He started taking slow steps toward me. A mountain lion locked on its prey. Temptation got the better of me and I started looking him up and down. The black hair, his the shining black eyes, the puckish features, his compact but strong build, all wrapped in his glowing olive skin. He truly was an angel, but then again, so was Lucifer. “Who the fuck do think you’re talking to?” he said angrily. Him being angry at me scared me while making my dick start to swell. “It’s not that I don’t love you, it’s just wrong. I never should have let it happen, people are going to say I’m a groomer or something, and I’ve got a hus—” he reared his arm back and slapped me full force. My fallen angel had a temper. It’s what landed him in my program to begin with. My cheek stung and my eye teared. I was instantly rock hard. “Please we can’t.” I begged. Something crossed his face, his eyes glittered with malice. “Okay. Fine, never again.” He said with a smirk. I felt the pit of my stomach drop. Hearing him say it hurt more than I thought it would. “Okay.” I replied trying to steel my nerves. He slowly started lifting his arm exposing his armpit. “Jesus Christ, please don’t do that.” I said. “What, are you worried? We’re not going to do anything. You want it to stop.” He said. My little devil. The scent hit me, he never wore deodorant or perfume. His natural scent was salty, earthy, and sweet. But his pits… he produced a potent and addictive musk. It’d been getting stronger by the year. Without question I was a slave to his scent. It hit me, all I could do was whimper. Standing an arm’s length away I could smell him, my eyes were rolling back. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I’m begging for us to stop,” I whined. “It’s weird because you said all that stupid shit, but I’m pretty sure what you were begging for was a little- sniff” he said. “Dante. Please. No. I really can’t it’s so wrong.” I said. “I stopped listening after Dante please,” he said. He quickly undid my pants, I didn’t try to stop him. My dick cartoonishly sprang out at full attention. I was done for. He grabbed it in his iron grip squeezing as hard as he could. I yelped and folded forward, he was waiting with his pit open, my face smashed right into the damp sweaty hair. “Don’t you EVER try a fucking stunt like this again!” He growled. I groaned unable to speak between the pain of his grip and the ecstasy of his scent. “SAY IT!” He yelled. “I’ll never do it again Dante-Dante-Dante please you’re hurting me.” I begged. He gave a final harder squeeze before he let go. I collapsed back into my chair. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I got in my head I love you so much please baby I shouldn’t have said anything,” I said completely crumbling. The thought of being away from him made me want to burn the world. I’m sure he knew. He took off his pants and shoes, a concert of rich musky smells filled my office. He straddled me. I could feel the stickiness and heat as he started to push his hole down on me. His eyes staring somewhere deeper down than anyone could reach. “Oh my god, I fucking love you” I whispered. He gave me another slap. Followed by a kiss. He leaned in and whispered in my ear as he pushed all the way down, “That’s right…I am a god.”

[lollytea]

(About the Dana post)

ALSO LIKE. THE WAY HE WAS PROBABLY IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMETHING ELSE AND THEN JUST. DID THAT.

Like he's holding a clipboard! I'm willing to bet Willow just slid under him with some encouraging chant to hype up the team, and Hunter just went "ah yes spot for me"

What if I explode

YEAHHHHH!!! Talking about this sketch and the implications makes me very unwell. Also the little gesture of happily resting his chin in her palm is just like something a sweet doggy would do before looking up at you with confused yet earnest eyes and then wagging his tail hopefully. He's so doggy like to me. Do you know what I mean? You know what I mean <333

Agsbdjnk the clipboard. A silly little sketch but with visual storytelling. It's absolutely tryouts or something similar. I imagine that Willow is the only EE player that is dedicated to playing longterm while the others have a lot of fun during their time on the team but eventually move on to other ventures after a year or two. Once Boscha improves her behaviour after FTF, I could see Skara wanting to return to playing grudgby. She seemed to really love it. So Willow and Hunter are on the ball near immediately to find a replacement. And with the Flyer Derby renaissance Willow has lowkey started at Hexside, there's a way bigger turn out than the last time she needed recruits.

Judging by Hunter's level of relaxed contentment and Willow not giving it much notice, a good chunk of time has passed since the events of W&D. They're very attuned to each other, having probably been joined at the hip for a while now.

(We're gonna ignore the fact that Hunter doesn't have his post TTT scars. Presumably Dana just forgot agsbdjk.)

Definitely post grom I imagine. If you compare Hunter's body language in both pics

In the left pic, I don't think he's unwilling to be touched. He's definitely excited about wherever the FUCK this is going. But he looks stiff and his smile is twitchy, clearly nervous. Which implies that he's not that used to Willow being so touchy with him and he's a little out of his depth. My headcanon is that grom was when they officially got together, after months of situationship shenanigans. With that little idea in mind, this is just the beginning of their relationship.

When it comes to the pic on the right, I imagine it's also quite early in the dating stage. Early enough that they've only just broached the exciting world of more intimately affectionate touches. Which Hunter has evidently not built up an immunity to yet. Still melts every time.

Yeah that is definitely a boy who has only been in a relationship long enough to discover that he loves the feeling of his face being held, but also a boy who's so comfortable in his relationship that he's not shy about seeking out affection when he wants it. Even in public.

So he's still swoony but not shy about it anymore. So I'd say a few weeks-a month or two into dating.

(Also the haircuts align with this little timeline I've made up in my head. Willow has cut her hair short for grom, while it's in the season 2 short stubby braids during tryouts. So it HAS grown out but only a little. Meanwhile Hunter's hair has grown out a bit during grom, but looks recently trimmed during tryouts. There's no real significance to this. I watched a Dana livestream once where she said she'd rather just draw short hair Hunter because the long hair noodle is annoying to draw. But asgbknk! I like to make up implications where there are none. Anyway my hc is that Willow and Hunter do not just decide on a signature hair length and keep it forever. They spend the next three years bouncing back and forth between long and short styles.)

ANYWAY Willow is absolutely hyping Hunter the fuck up as the Golden Star of her team!! The best and the brightest!! Her pride and joy as a Captain. The purpose is to get the candidates all excited to do their best to get a spot on this epic team so they can play alongside him, but Hunter misinterprets Willow's praise as sweet talk and smiles and blushes appropriately.

Agsbdjnk it's so funny. He totally understood that the goal was to get their potential players PUMPED and he was excellently playing along with riling them up. But that glowing review of his character distracted him and now he thinks they're flirting. So the super cool badass disposition he had adapted for the newbies was promptly thrown out the window because hehehehe my girlfriend is so nice to me 🥰 Bro has forgotten where he is. Head empty.

So when Willow juts out a hand to aggressively present ✨️Him✨️ to the audience, Hunter's already gooey brain just says put chin in hand because sweet girl soft girl my girl.

Willow is a little thrown off but when she feels the weight of his face but just rolls with it and keeps going. She even gives him an affectionate little caress. I think she recognizes that he's misunderstood the tone a bit and has decided to not tell him. He usually gets very embarrassed when its pointed out that he's made a social error and she doesn't wanna do that to him. It's harmless and its cute, who cares? He's a little confused but he's got the spirit.

[evren-sadwrn]

.................okay but ROMANTIC Vincent x bodyguard could slap 😗🤨😲now that might be something I could potentially eat up. Suddenly I am hungry.

cringefailure french boy needs a bodyguard i got u bae dw

ʚ♡ɞ

You work for the Marquis de Gramont as a bodyguard

You’re well-versed in guns and all that combat jazz

You get your hands dirty for this guy, and commit acts of violence

It’s just your job anyways

It’s much better than being a common hitman or mercenary because then you have a boss to hide behind

A particularly hot boss to be specific

He’s attractive, you and the other Myrmidons agree upon that

Vincent is young in comparison to literally everyone in the Table’s circle of representatives and agents

He’s a hyperglot, he’s got a taste in art, he likes cats more than dogs, he’s sexy as hell, and he’s interesting when he talks sometimes

God, isn’t he just amazing?

It’s when you’re at the Louvre with this guy again(second time this week)

“What do you think about art?”

A simple, innocent question

Your answer goes along the lines of something basic

Nothing too profound, just rather something short and simple

And that sends the Marquis to talking about art and history as a whole

Now you know the difference between Baroque and Renaissance art

And you know Realism, Impressionism, and Romanticism

Vincent finds Romanticism particularly interesting: a quiet theme romanticizing the softer and more gentler parts of life

You can see that in him

Vincent gets excited when he talks about art

You can see it when he smiles, or when his eyes are practically gleaming as he talks

You only nod, answer simple and short when he pauses to ask

Then—

Then Vincent has you accompanying him more than often

You get a chance to talk to Chidi a whole lot, Vincent’s right hand man

And you get to hear more of Vincent’s ramblings

Attending bourgeois luxuries

Palais Garnier, and all that stuff

It only takes nine months(fuck, that’s nearly a year) for you to actually start seeing Vincent

Vincent, not the Marquis— but just him

A guy that plays piano and fills most of his days learning a new language if he’s not doing anything important

He holds everyone to high standards including you

But there’s always something that Vincent likes about you

It’s clear in his actions, really

“These gloves would suit you, don’t you think?”

Vincent likes giving gifts, he doesn’t know anything else about relationships or how to properly say it

But it’s clear

He first got you gloves when he saw your hands were particularly bruised

Then it just straight up jumped to him giving you a car, sleek black and elegantly shaped

God, you wish you were joking

But you wanted to test the waters first

“I want you to come with me to the Louvre again”

“Alright, kiss me on the cheek first”

Was that too bold?

Either way, after a moment of pause, which was Vincent just processing it—

—he kissed you on the cheek

What kind of chapstick was he using to get those lips so damn pink and perfect and soft?

You’ve been eyeing those lips for a while now

And feeling it first hand-

Fuck, it was exhilarating

“So are we gonna go now?”

Vincent put a hand on his hip as he asked you

“Yes, sir”

Shit, you were so fucking whipped

reblogs appreciated as always<33

#marquis de gramont #marquis vincent de gramont #john wick 4 #john wick #bill skarsgård #marquis de gramont x reader #gender neutral insert #gender neutral imagine #🪐evrenwrites #idk if I accidentally answered this private lemme know #bill skarsgard needs to drop that fucking skin care routine tf #his skin is GLOWING amen

[sluttyten]

UNHOLY - Chapter Six

full masterlist || UNHOLY chapter index

genre: supernatural au

characters: fem reader, yuta, ten, winwin, mark, others mentioned

tags: polyamory, smut!, threesome, demon sex, religious themes

length: 10,441 words

<-previous || next–>

“Well, this is gonna be fucking awkward now, isn’t it?” Mark asks, looking back and forth between you and Ten and Yuta. 

Tonight you’re at another one of Mark’s deep underground labyrinthine clubs. This time in a private room overlooking the club below. They have a few more friends here, drinking and boisterously laughing and singing along to the music the DJ has got booming through the club, but you’re not paying too much attention to those guys. 

You’re leaning against Ten’s chest, his arm draped across your shoulders. You’re quite comfortable, your feet are in Yuta’s lap on the other side of the table. 

Mark and WinWin sit together on the same bench seat as Yuta, occasionally looking at your feet in his lap, sometimes just staring at the way that Ten’s fingertips brush the top of your tits in this very tight and low-cut top you’re wearing tonight. More than once Yuta has commented possessively to WinWin about the lusty way he’s staring at your tits. 

Mark wrinkles his nose slightly, looking around at the three of you. “You start fucking, and now WinWin and I have to feel like fourth and fifth wheels to your demonic tricycle?” 

You can’t hold back a laugh. 

It’s only been a few days since that night when you summoned your flames for the first time, and this is the first time since then that you’re seeing either Mark or WinWin. You’ve been focusing on your demon lessons, though admittedly those have been a little distracted and not very informational. More often than not over the last few days, any attempt at giving you a lesson in demon powers becomes one or both of your instructors fucking you.

After your mastering of the bursting-into-flame lesson, you’ve moved on to shapeshifting, which Ten had mentioned to you. It was certainly more difficult, and even now you’ve had no actual progress. Of course, the distraction provided by your two demons being entirely capable at shifting is likely partially to blame for that. 

For example, Ten had shapeshifted to have a dual penis, not quite the trident like you’d joked about finding when he first took his pants off, but close enough. Truthfully it had been funny at first to see Ten standing there with two penises, until your curiosity took over. You couldn’t help yourself from touching, from seeing that it’s not just an illusion, but a real flesh-and-blood functional penis. Naturally, you’d needed to take it further. Ten had happily let you experiment with him, settling onto the sofa with you between his legs to watch both cocks grow hard, and when you tried blowing both of his cocks, they’d just shifted back together in the tight heat of your mouth.

Ten’s instruction was rarely actually informational when it came to shape-shifting. He and you mostly had fun. There was the two dicks thing, but he’d also shifted to have tits, growing his hair out long until he looked like a gorgeous Renaissance muse. That day hadn’t turned into sex, but rather into him manifesting tubes and cans of paint and canvases, which the two of you had painted on before devolving into fingerpainting each other, and dragging Yuta into it too when he showed up.

Yuta was certainly the more serious of the two when it came to your lessons. 

Yuta actually taught you, instructing you in the history and methodology as well as the limitations of shape-shifting. Turning into most animals and creatures was fine—cats, bats, and rats were simplest, but he could transform into birds or fish or bugs, into any animal that existed in the natural world. The limitations existed when shifting into items for disguise—a tree or a plant was easier than, say, a car (which is too complex), a lamp post (unable to light up if you’re an electric lamp post, but if you’re an old gaslit lamp, you can summon your flame to help), or any object that wasn’t once a living thing.

“I once got stuck as an armchair for several days before someone realized and helped me,” Yuta had told you as he shook his head, leaves falling, replaced by his hair as his skin smooths out from the rough texture of bark. “Sometimes, if you listen closely, I still groan when I move like I have old springs in me.”

“There’s no way!” You laughed. 

Yuta nodded, his smile warming his face, and he wrapped his arms around you, drawing you against his chest. “But, truly, my love, shifting to look like a different person is both one of the easiest and most difficult things.” 

Yuta had evidenced this when he shifted his features smoothly right in front of you, and within seconds, you were staring at yourself like you were looking in a mirror. But when the other you opened its mouth, Yuta’s voice came out, its eyes gleamed demonic black, and the air hung heavy with the scent of sulfur. 

He’d shifted into several other people then. Celebrities that you requested, humans you’d met here in Hell City at Mark’s clubs or when you’d gone out with WinWin, but when you asked if he would shift into WinWin, Yuta shook his head no. 

“That’s the limit, my love. We can only shift into other demons and humans. When we attempt other supernatural beings, it never turns out right. Do you want to see?” Yuta asked. 

He’d transformed into Mark first, but he looked like Mark just with viciously red eyes, fangs fully engaged, and deep, bold hunger lines spreading away from his eyes, making him look truly monstrous. But it was when Yuta shifted into WinWin for you that you truly understood what he meant. 

You’d never seen WinWin in his wolf form. Never seen him as much more than just a slight bit of claw, his single hand turned into a furry paw, his canines becoming more prominent and his glowing eyes. But as Yuta stood before you as WinWin, he looked more wolf than man. Fur sprouted all over his body, on his arms and neck and chest, infringing on his face. His body grew, shoulders bulging with knots of muscle and hunching, his clothes ripping as his body transformed, and his hands twisted into clawed paw-like versions of hands, and his teeth sharp, his eyes the dangerous yellow of a monster. 

You’d cringed away, admittedly terrified to suddenly be faced with the beast. 

“That’s what happens,” Yuta had explained as he came back to himself. “If you attempt a supernatural being, you can only show them in a twisted form. But sometimes you can tweak it, manipulate individual pieces of yourself until you come close to resembling them. Like WinWin, for example. If I wanted to look like him, I would just manipulate little things about myself, which is more time consuming, not nearly as instantaneous, and there’s always something just a little off when it’s done.”

Right before your eyes you’d begun to see the little changes as Yuta grew a little taller, as his body shifted in bone structure and musculature, his features morphing into WinWin’s, or at least ones very similar to WinWin’s. 

And when at last he stood before you, you could sense the difference. There was just something… off about how he looked. Like WinWin, but not. 

So, although Yuta’s lessons were usually rather instructional when compared to Ten’s lessons, these also invariably would end in sex.

So, as Yuta stood in front of you looking so much like WinWin, there was one major difference. Unlike the WinWin you knew, this one was naked. 

Your eyes unavoidably drifted downward, a little bit of curiosity and also just the inability to simply not look at the cock staring back at you. 

Yuta had laughed when he realized where you were looking. 

“Is that an accurate representation, or are you making it up?” You couldn’t look away from the long, heavy cock he possessed, wondering if that was truly what WinWin was packing. It was like…. Ridiculous to look at. Probably close to a foot in length, thick all the way around, veiny, and pink at the tip. You’d never seen anything like it before. 

Again, Yuta had laughed, reaching a hand down to touch himself. “Wouldn’t you like to know, baby girl.”

You did want to know. Once upon a few months ago, you’d almost given into having sex with WinWin in that club, and if you’d taken his pants off to find that cock, you’d have been so underprepared. But since then you’d been with two demons, you’d had handfuls of filthy dreams about WinWin, so at the time of the lesson, you couldn’t seem to look away. You’d had your lusty thoughts about him, but if this is the cock that WinWin had, you would just write off your fantasies because there’s no way you could feasibly take this, even in your wildest dreams. 

You hadn’t yet mentioned the dreams to Yuta or Ten, but surely they had to have some suspicions. You still weren’t sure if they could read your thoughts or not, but it often seemed like they could. So, surely, if they possessed that ability, they had to know by now the way that you dreamed about the other two members of your found family. 

“Come on,” Yuta had said, still stroking the long cock he temporarily possessed. “Do you want to test it out?”

You’d given in to your base urges, the curiosity overwhelming your logic, and you dropped to your knees and reached for his cock. It was impossible to fit it all in your mouth, your hands worked what you couldn’t, and Yuta just raked his fingers through your hair and did his best to gag you on his cock. 

It had been a little startling when you looked up at him partway through, having forgotten what he looked like in the moment, to see WinWin looking down at you. But you didn’t mind too much. You found WinWin attractive. And it was becoming more and more clear that Yuta knew that too. He’d begun to play with you as you went further than just blowing him. He’d wanted to roleplay, have you call him WinWin and beg for him to knot you. 

You hadn’t truly understood the meaning of that, not to its full extent, in the moment, but you’d gone along with it, fucking Yuta as WinWin. He’d had to reduce the size of his showy cock for you to successfully take it, but even then he’d been big up until he let the whole illusion fall apart as his orgasm hit, and then he was your Yuta again with flames flickering on his back, and a normal-sized cock pumping into you. 

It was afterwards, the following day, when you’d visited the Hell on Earth Library of the Public, or HELP as it was better known. You’d located a book on werewolves, just overwhelmed by curiosity about if werewolves were normally so hung and what the hell knotting was about. That book, as well as one that was a general encyclopedia on the supernatural, were going to be your sources. After checking them out and bringing them back to your apartment, you’d learned quite a bit actually, but you’d tucked that information away as interesting but not completely relevant. 

Neither you nor Yuta mentioned the WinWin roleplay over the last few days, but there were times, such as tonight at this club, when you looked at WinWin and wondered if his cock could really be so magnificent as Yuta had made it seem. 

Mark’s still looking at the three of you, particularly at Yuta’s hand on your ankle as your toes press against Yuta’s thigh, inching higher toward the meeting of his thighs. WinWin stares at the tips of Ten’s fingers resting just beneath the top edge of your shirt, fingertips on your very soft cleavage. 

You notice. You notice both of them, and you settle more comfortably into Ten’s side, tossing a smile over at Yuta. 

“What can I say,” Yuta smugly says, “Our girl has truly shown us her demonic side, Mark.”

You roll your foot higher in his lap, toes brushing the bulge of his cock. Yuta grins and tightens his grip on your ankle. Mark’s eyes flash toward you. 

“Relax, Mark.” You draw your foot out of Yuta’s lap, and you sit up straighter so you’re not totally draped against Ten. “We’re not going to do it in front of you. I was just teasing.”

His face is stiff, concealing whatever thoughts are racing through his mind. “This just isn’t that kind of club, y’know?” 

WinWin snorts beside Mark, folding his arms across his chest. “Have you told the people down there about that?” He indicates the dance floor below. “I can see a couple having sex right now, but they at least think they’re being sneaky about it.” You look in the direction WinWin indicated, but you can’t see anyone in particular that stands out, but WinWin’s eyes have a particular glow to them, like his wolf side is a little closer to the surface than normal.

Mark must be able to see whatever you can’t because he swears and rocks onto his feet, calling over a club security vampire, whistling to him quickly and gesturing down at the crowd. 

“Buzzkill,” Ten hisses. “Let them have their fun.”

“This isn’t that kind of club!” Mark insists, “Go down the block if you want a sex club that allows that kind of stuff. Frozen Hell is right there!” He sinks back down, folding his arms across his chest. His gaze momentarily settles again on your tits before he’s looking away, glaring at Ten for a moment as Ten continues teasing him, and then he stares down into his drink. 

“You just need to get laid, Mark,” Yuta says affectionately, lifting a hand to lay it on Mark’s shoulder. “How long has it been since that girl?”

“He accidentally turned her,” Ten whispers to you, and you can hear the grin in his voice. Mark looks up to glare at Ten again, but Ten doesn’t stop. “Got a little too wild, drank all her blood, and three days later he swore it all off. No fresh human blood, no sex.” 

That’s odd. Not odd that he swore those things off, but odd because you remember how Mark behaved the night you met. The way he flirted with you, like he was fully attempting to seduce you, intending to have sex with you if the others hadn’t snapped you out of his little mind game. But now that you think about it, all the times you’ve gone out together to clubs or just around the city, Mark had never talked about sexual partners, he’d never engaged with anyone that was clearly flirting with him. Much about your perception of him has changed since that first night you met him. Long gone is his kingpin-esque vibe, replaced now with the casual young man he is beneath. 

Like right now, he’s blushing. The drink in his hand supplies the blood that rushes to his cheeks as Ten continues with his teasing. It’s cute and funny. 

You’re laughing along with the others as Ten says, “He took a vow of celibacy, like a vampire priest.”

And then Ten mockingly does the sign of the cross towards Mark.

That’s where you draw the line.

“Don’t fucking do that.” You lean away from Ten, punching him on the arm. “Don’t mock that.”

You still respect bits and pieces of the faith. And something about the sign of the cross still feels very important, like you should never desecrate that. You won’t disrespect the elements of the faith, even if you do feel that God has abandoned you, and even if you do sometimes still find yourself questioning if he’s even real when a place like this and people like all of these supernatural beings can exist. 

“What?” Ten laughs, his eyes crinkling with mirth even in the face of your clear annoyance. Yuta laughs too when Ten says, “Still a little saint after all, hmm?” 

Ten attempts to slide his arm back around you and draw you in, but you slide away, leaving the seat empty beside him. “I’m going to dance,” you announce, turning your back on the table. You can sense Ten moving as if to follow, so you turn back around, pointing a finger at him as you hiss, “Don’t follow me. I’m pissed at you right now.”

Ten, chastised, sinks back into his spot, picking up his drink to hide the flush on his cheeks. He mumbles, “It was just a joke.”

You don’t care if it was just a joke. It was something you were raised to believe in, and you’re still struggling to untangle yourself from all of that. Mark has been helping you with that a bit, but there are still those core things which just feel wrong to violate, such as crossing yourself in a situation that doesn’t call for it.

You leave the private room, descending a spiraling set of stairs to join the party on the dancefloor, to have some fun, to get away for a minute. You intentionally find a spot out of sight of the private room. You don’t want them to watch you – not Ten who you’re angry with, not Yuta who had laughed along with him. You dance like nothing else matters even as the heat of your anger or annoyance at Ten simmers like your flames just beneath the surface of your skin. You dance like no one can see you, especially not the men you left behind at your table.

But one of them finds you anyway.

You feel the energy of the crowd shifting around you, ramping up with excitement, and you only see the reason for that as Mark cuts his way through the crowd toward you. He holds his hand out, offering it to you, his eyes a subtle red-brown, eyebrows lifted in invitation. He doesn’t have to speak, it’s all in his expectant gaze, the question, “Come with me?”

You give him your hand, and Mark pulls you through the dancers, the tight press of bodies. You don’t know where he’s leading you, and for the moment you don’t really care. You just don’t want to go back to the table because you don’t want to look at Ten. Maybe you’re being unreasonable.

Mark’s hand is cool in yours, squeezing so tightly around your hand that you worry he might crush the small bones in your hand. But he’s holding tight, keeping you close behind him as he leads you behind the dazzling bar, squeezing behind the bartenders and all the illuminated glasses on the wall. 

When he brings you through a doorway behind the bar, it’s then that you finally ask him, “Where are we going?”

Mark glances back at you. “You needed to get out of there right? Since you were clearly pissed at Ten, I figured we could just leave.”

Your imagination takes off, spinning down a readily waiting rabbit hole of Mark deciding to challenge Ten and Yuta both telling him to get laid. What if he were to make his claim on you, to bring you into some private room in the warren of tunnels in Hell City’s underground? A thrill goes through you at the thought, followed quickly after by a surge of guilt. Even if you’re annoyed with Ten, that’s no reason to go off and have sex with one of their closest friends. You’re being silly with this line of filthy thought.

“What’s wrong?” Mark asks, turning his head to the side to look at you from over his shoulder. “Your heart is racing.”

You feel your face flush with heat. He can hear your heartbeat? “Nothing.”

“Sure.” His tone makes it clear he doesn’t believe you. “Try to calm yourself down at least a little. I’m taking you to hang out with my coven.”

“What?” If anything, that makes your heart beat even faster. You walk a little faster too, trying to catch up to Mark’s side instead of trailing behind him. “Your coven? Why?”

Mark’s smile is one again that makes you entirely forget that you’re not both just normal humans living normal human lives in a normal human city. A little crooked and spreading too easily, a loose expression that just seems to appear and make his eyes shine even in the dim light of these underground streets. “Are you nervous? You’ve met some of them before, you know.” You wiggle your fingers, and Mark’s hand loosens just a little bit around yours, but he doesn’t let go and neither do you. “I just thought you wanted to get away from them for a little bit, and I’ve never shown you Covenant really.”

The name rings a bell. A door at the end of an alley. An old sign with faded letters spelling Covenant. It’s the place where you’d first met Mark when he sat on that throne looking like the King of the Vampires. The place with all of that religious imagery and stolen artwork that had been defaced.

For the first time you look around at your surroundings, noticing that Mark is walking with you quickly by the doorways that lead into other loud clubs, underground restaurants that promise unique dining experiences, and a bar with roars of laughter blending on the ground with the pools of rainbow colored light that spill through the stained glass windows. He turns you sharply through the alleys, down stairs that squeeze down narrow passages, winding you ever farther beneath the surface of Hell City. Part of you wonders if he’s trying to get you turned around or if he’s maybe trying to lose someone behind you with as many twists and turns as he takes.

“Why are you taking me to Covenant?” You ask, panting just a little bit at the quick pace with which Mark is taking you down stairs and sloped streets. This underground city rises around you. Tall, dark walls stretch up into the darkness toward the underside of Hell City’s streets.

“When I’m not sleeping over at your apartment, the Covenant is where I stay. I want to show it to you.” Mark pulls you through an unlatched gate down another alley, and as you walk along, you hear the gate click shut behind you. You want to ask him why he’s taking you along this winding way, and why he wants to show you Covenant, but you’re already asking so many questions of him. 

Mark suddenly stops, and you bump into his back.

“Hold on,” is the only warning Mark gives before you feel his arm around your waist. He bends slightly at the knee, his arm growing tight around you, and then just like that the ground is no longer beneath your feet.

Everything is so fast, you’ve only the time to say “Fu–” before your feet are on a solid surface again. The “--ck!” comes as your chin bumps against Mark’s shoulder, his laugh vibrating his chest as he holds you against him. 

“Fuck!” You repeat the exclamation with a thump of your fist against Mark’s chest, pushing yourself away from him, but you can’t get far. He keeps his arm around your waist, and you’re glad for it. Mark has the pair of you perched precariously on the edge of  a rooftop several stories above the alley that you’d just been standing in. 

From up here you can see that the Underground of Hell City is just as much a city as the surface world. This city rolls ever deeper into the distance, endless with flickering lights illuminating the streets and the windows. It reminds you of a scene from a historic drama you might have watched, like looking into the past of old London or Paris, maybe looking out at ancient Rome or Alexandria, like an ancient city had been sunken just beneath the surface here.  

You wouldn’t know that behind the facades of these walls there are pieces of modernity in the nightclubs and everything else. From here, it looks just like you’ve slipped backwards in time. The only thing missing is the sight of the stars and the moon overhead, though you can see in the distance a tower that rises up like the Tower of Babel, circular and many-tiered, the tallest building you can see.

“That’s the entrance from the surface,” Mark tells you. 

That’s crazy, you think. The number of times you’ve been down here, going to different places that he or WinWin or Yuta and Ten had brought you, and you’d never really imagined this whole underground city looking like a legitimate city before. You’d always stayed on the one level pretty much, so you hadn’t really realized how far this city sloped downward, how far it stretched, how what you’d believed to be hallways and corridors were probably more like actual streets and alleyways. 

Admittedly, you were usually too distracted or even too intoxicated to really look up. Your demons or the other two held you enraptured every time that you were down here. Why would you even think to look up?

Mark laughs again, and he moves back from the edge, bringing you with him. “Are you so amazed? Have you never seen the city before?”

You shake your head, still clinging to Mark even though he’s put a few feet between you and the edge of the rooftop. There’s so much to look at. This underground city is so dark, but the streets and the buildings themselves have an orange glow, completely different to the constant orange glow of the city above. This is a city trapped forever in night, illuminated by street lamps, candles in windows, paper lanterns.

Something bright flashes through the night, like a shooting star as it falls from above. Your eyes immediately hone in on it, a shimmering trail of light that falls from the city above down and down and down before it vanishes.

“The river,” Mark explains. “It’s more of a waterfall to Hell down here, but the concept is still the same. You don’t want to get caught in it.” You remember the river above when Yuta and Ten showed it to you, the darker water that flickered with white souls as it ran along the riverwalk, how Yuta told you that it vanished underground at some point and never resurfaced. 

As you watch, another spark of white, which must surely be a soul on its descent, passes. 

“Do you want to come inside, or should we stand here and look at the city a little longer?” Mark finally starts to pull away from you, and the withdrawal of his touch pulls your attention around to him again. 

“I thought we were going to Covenant?” You let your hand slip away from Mark’s, watching as he walks towards a rooftop access door.

“We are.” Mark gestures at the roof beneath your feet. “The part you’ve been to before, that’s down there.” 

And why didn’t he take you through the front entrance? Or even the back entrance? What’s with this strange manner of entering the building through the roof? And the winding circuitous way he brought you here? 

Sensing your suspicion, or perhaps reading it plain on your face, Mark explains, “I don’t like to share this particular place with just anyone. When we first left the club, I almost felt like someone was watching us, so I took a roundabout way getting here.”

“It was probably Yuta or Ten. I’m sure we’ll get an earful from them when we get back,” you say. “They both like to keep a sometimes annoyingly close watch on me.” 

“Yeah,” Mark agrees. “They’re clearly really possessive over you. But, if they’re angry we ditched them when we get back, I’ll make sure to apologize. Now, I want to show you this.” Mark pushes the door open, and he steps inside without a single look back as he vanishes into the dark interior. 

You hesitate because although you trust Mark, there’s just something that doesn’t sit right about following a vampire into the darkness of a mystery room.

But then a match strikes. A small flame glows in the dark, throwing shadows against the walls of the room, and as you approach the door, you can see Mark’s hand caught in the light of the match, bringing the flame to first one candle, and then another. 

This isn’t a roof access door, as you’d originally thought. This is a room. A very small room situated here on the roof with not much more than a wooden bench, the two lit candles, a small stand with a book on it, and mounted on the wall of the room is an elegant cross that makes you think, to some degree, that this matches the theme of the other religious works in the Covenant – stolen, likely from a Church. It gleams in the candlelight, golden and covered in gems. 

You step inside, gazing at this small chapel in the middle of Hell City’s underground. This was the last thing you expected to find here, but right now, it feels like it’s exactly what you need.

A sense of clarity floods through you. 

“I thought you might like this.” Mark sits down. “As I’ve told you, I’ve had a lot of my beliefs challenged since I was first turned. I’ve had my doubts about God and the greater purpose of human life, but I always come back to this.” He looks around the space, at the cross and the book beneath it. “I know that I have no hope of getting into Heaven, my soul is too black, I’m too deep into sin to ever have the hope of being lifted up from here and seeing Heaven, but I still pray. I still ask forgiveness, and I try hard to believe that there’s someone up there listening to my prayers and granting me forgiveness, still watching over me.”

You sink down beside him, and you reach over to take Mark’s hand. 

“I try not to let it bother me, like, when Ten and the others tease me like that. About being a celibate priest vampire,” he laughs quietly. “I’m not perfect. Far from it. He’s right that I swore off drinking fresh blood and also sex because, if I thought Heaven was unreachable before, after I turned that girl – killed her by accident and sat by her side until she changed into the same kind of monster that I am – I know that it’s beyond out of reach. I can’t tempt myself with that again and push Heaven even farther away.”

Mark sighs. “Sometimes I feel like no one else in this city really gets it. A lot of them weren’t raised with any aspect of religion. The rest pretty much abandoned religion after they experienced their supernatural awakening.” He swings his head around to look at you with his eyes like drops of liquid night, catching the flickering light of the candles. “You get it, don’t you?”

“I do.” You clasp Mark’s hand a little tighter. 

He looks back up at the cross. “I made this chapel above the den of unholiness that I built, thinking maybe it’ll help negate some of the chaos and sin of a vampire coven. I brought the vampires to me that were lost and in need of guidance. I gave them a home and a purpose other than just the senseless bloodlust. You can come here anytime you want, if you need a place to feel a little bit like… home. Like, a place to pray that I hope feels like it’s at least a good spot for it.”

Mark’s words are timid, hopeful. You nod. This little chapel on the rooftop does feel like a good spot for prayer, if that’s something you need to do. You can tell that there’s nothing truly hallowed about it. Nothing here in the room gives you the same tingle as you’d experienced when you’d gone to the Church in your town. There’s no holy water here, no Eucharist. Only the cross, unadorned with a Christ figure, and the book beneath, which you assume is a Bible. 

Mark twitches, as if he means to get up, but you hold tight to his hand, tugging him back down beside you.

“Can we stay for a little longer?” You swallow, nervous to pray for some reason. 

You don’t really know if there’s a God up there. But you also don’t know that there’s not a God. All you know is that praying feels familiar, it feels right sometimes, and you miss it. 

“We can stay,” Mark says quietly. His thumb rubs over your knuckles, and you see from the corner of your eye the way that he bows his head and closes his eyes. 

You do the same, slipping into the feeling of prayer like speaking to an old friend.

Whether the others notice the disappearance of you and Mark, you don’t know.

You and Mark, after spending a decent amount of time together in the quiet solitude and tranquility of his rooftop chapel, descend into Covenant. 

Mark shows you through the upper floors of his establishment. He shows you briefly the apartment he possesses, which is just a bedroom and an office in what used to be the ensuite bathroom. There are more apartments, every floor bustling with vampires. Some closed doors hide the sounds of moans. Some rooms have the doors wide open. There are cats and bats. There’s a whole mini kitchen on the second floor that only has fridges stocked with blood bags, as well as a mini fridge that has human food and beverages. 

“For guests,” Mark explains. 

There’s a lounge room, kind of like a common area in a dorm, filled with sofas and armchairs, pool tables, dart boards, and a very old Pac-Man machine. Here, there are vampires ranging in ages. They all greet Mark warmly, eyeing you curiously. You haven’t met all of them, but you do recognize one. His name is Haechan, currently entertaining half of the accumulated vampires in the room as he belts out an obnoxious pop song into the microphone of a karaoke machine.

Mark has introduced you in the past to several members of his extensive coven. The otherworldly beautiful female vampires with their flawless skin and shiny hair, their looks that draw you in no matter sexuality. The male vampires are just as alluring, equally as graceful as the women. All of them are beautiful, even with blood red eyes. 

You know Mark has only turned one of them, just the girl that made him give up on drinking fresh blood. Everyone else in his coven he’s earned their loyalty, taken them in, shown them that they can trust him. There are other covens in Hell City, but none so powerful as Mark’s. 

Mark introduces you to a few more vampires on your way out. There’s Haechan who waves enthusiastically when he spots the pair of you. There’s a vampire that Mark tells you is the oldest in his coven, named Taeil, who is just happy to have the safety of a coven and who joined in because he’d met Haechan and couldn’t live an eternal life without the ray of perpetual sunshine in the otherwise dark existence of vampires. Mark introduces you to a newer vampire named Jisung who moves too quickly for his lanky limbs, making him clumsy, though it adds to his charm. 

And when you finally make your exit through the front door of Covenant, Mark points out the straightest shot here from the Tower that you enter the underground from. It’s actually a lot easier to get to than you remember from your first visit, and you tuck that piece of information away, hoping that you’ll remember it correctly when you choose to come use his quiet little chapel on the roof.

The less straight and simple path from Covenant heads back to the club where you’d left Yuta, Ten, and WinWin. Mark doesn’t lead you on as winding of a path as he had before, but it still takes several minutes to reach the club again, and he sneaks you back in the same way that you’d exited. 

You feel better. More right in your own skin as you step back into the noise and crushing heat of the dancefloor. 

Mark slips away almost instantly, his attention caught by someone at the bar, and you dive back into the crowd of dancers, picking back up where you’d left off, but happier and freer now. 

WinWin appears while you’re dancing, bumping into your back while he’s dancing with a girl that you think must be some kind of aquatic supernatural being due to the way that her hair is still dripping wet, and (no offense) the slightly fishy or briny smell coming off her. She wears a silky gray dress, her round dark eyes looking you over when WinWin smiles at the sight of you.

The girl is instantly forgotten as he leans in to speak directly into your ear. “Are you still mad and want to be left alone? Or can I dance with you?” 

You weren’t even mad at him to begin with, so you let him stay, thinking that, if anything, the sight of you dancing with him might serve to make Ten or Yuta jealous.

The forgotten girl gets swallowed by the crowd, and for a while you forget everything too. Happy to just lose yourself in the feel of the music pulsing in your bones, the feel of WinWin dancing along with you, not necessarily all over you like he had been the last time you danced together on the night you first met, but close enough now to make sure no one separates you from him. Close enough that when at last you lift your head to look around for any sight of your two demons, WinWin catches on.

“How does it work?” He asks, leaning down to speak directly into your ear, but still shouting to be heard over the music. “The three of you?”

You’re not entirely sure how to answer that, not certain what kind of an answer he’s seeking. “What do you mean? Like details?”

WinWin straightens up to look you in the eye as he says, “I’m not a pervert. No, not details. Like, are you together? Are they your boyfriends or mates or, like, is it just sex? What kind of a family dynamic did I get brought into?”  

Now, that’s something that you haven’t really spoken about over the last few days. You know that Yuta said Ten’s a jealous guy, and they’ve both displayed jealousy when you’ve mentioned Hansol. But there’s no label on this. You don’t know what this is. Is it just fun and sex? Or is it more than that?

WinWin presses closer, fitting his body with yours as you dance, and you welcome the heat of it. Especially when he leans down, his lips against your ear again as he says, “I mean, I’m only asking because in case it’s not very obvious, I like you, and I want to know if I still stand a chance.”

He timed it perfectly, fitting the words into a total lull in the music, unless the buzzing silence is just your mind struggling to comprehend what he’s just said. 

“I like you,” WinWin repeats as the music begins to pick up again, and somewhere in the crowd a few people howl. He glances towards them, but when he looks back at you, you’re still staring up at him slack-jawed. He smiles, tapping his fingertips beneath your chin to get you to shut your mouth. “You don’t have to answer me or make any kind of decision right now. I just wanted to make my intentions known.”

You like WinWin, too. You’ve found him attractive since the first time you met, and since he became a friend, you’ve grown to actually like him. Since your return to Hell City, everything has just been so emotionally confusing, if you’re being honest. The dreams, the friendships, your powers being awakened, as well as the new sexual experiences you’ve found with Yuta and Ten. 

And it’s not like Ten and Yuta own you. They’re just your demons, your protectors, instructors, and friends, the ones you’ve been having regular sex with over the last few days, fucking like rabbits every chance you get. But there’s no label. And they clearly don’t mind sharing with each other, so would it really be so different if you gave WinWin a shot?

“I’ll give you time to think about it,” WinWin says, his hands skimming over your shoulders and down your arms, as he puts a little bit of distance between you and him. Not too far away though. He smiles, eyes flashing in the blazing lights of the club. “We don’t have to rush.”

You don’t rush it at all. 

You dance together with WinWin for a while longer before the density of the crowd, all the bodies hot and sweaty around you, grows to be too much, so you head back up to the private room together. 

Mark is still not back. Yuta had passed you on the stairs as he went to fetch a new round of drinks. Only Ten still sits at the table, watching WinWin over his glass with a bit of heat and bite behind the look as you choose to sit beside WinWin on the other side of the table. 

“You smell like him,” Ten says after a moment, his tone accusatory. 

You ignore him. 

Ten continues to watch you, consuming himself with jealousy, as you just chat with WinWin, as Mark returns to the table with Yuta, sliding a tray of drinks onto the surface. 

Ten’s jealousy turns into him pouting, drinking too many of his smoking beverages, and by the time you decide to call the night at an end, it takes both Yuta and WinWin to haul Ten back to your apartment. He grumpily snarks at WinWin the whole way, even bursting into flames at one point after you’ve resurfaced in Hell City. It’s a successful attempt to get WinWin to move away from him. 

“Would you stop?” You snap, planting yourself in front of him on the street as WinWin steps aside to pat down the smoking shoulders of his shirt. “We were just dancing, if that’s why you’re so bent out of shape, Ten. Stop being an ass.”

Ten looks at Yuta, who just raises his eyebrows in silent reply. 

“They weren’t just dancing,” Ten faux-whispers. “I know it. WinWin’s too into her for them to have just been dancing.”

Heat floods through you, a mixture of a blush and your own flames rising to your skin. Your mind instantly is swept back into a short while ago, WinWin’s confession replaying in your mind.

Yuta pinches Ten’s side, hauling Ten’s arm a little higher over Yuta’s shoulder. “Does it matter, Ten? She’s not ours. We can’t tell her what to do.”

Ten pouts, turning a baleful look on you. He looks more like a kicked puppy than a demon right now, and it’s melting your resolve to stay irritated with him. 

“We just danced, you jealous ass. Don’t look at me like that, Ten.” You fold your arms across your chest. “We talked, we danced, and what does it matter if anything happened? I don’t belong to you or to Yuta, do I?”

He’s pouting still. “I want you to be ours. I don’t want to share you with WinWin. I don’t want to be a stepfather to a bunch of werewolf cubs!”

“Oh my God,” Yuta groans. “Alright, I’m speeding this up. He’s too heavy to carry across half the city. Win, can you keep her safe the rest of the way?” And then to you, he says, “I’ll talk to Ten. He’s just drunk and possessive.”

WinWin nods and promises. “I’ll get her home safe, Yuta.”

What a change this is from the first night you met WinWin. The way Yuta nods, fully trusting WinWin now when the first night he’d nearly ripped WinWin’s head off for wanting to be alone with you. 

Yuta turns on the spot, vanishing into thin air with Ten, leaving nothing behind but some of the glitter from Ten’s shirt floating to the sidewalk. 

You reach over, taking WinWin’s hand. His fingers go stiff for a moment before he relaxes, squeezing his hand around yours. You smile and ask, “Walk me home?” 

WinWin keeps you tucked close to his side as you walk through the city. His hackles are raised, for lack of a better term, eyes glinting amber and his teeth are bared as someone catcalls you from down an alleyway. 

Although this hour looks nearly the same as every other in this city, the late hour has drawn out the true monsters who lurk in the shadows, and WinWin growls any time any of them come a little too close or seem to be speaking or even looking in your direction. 

“You have to be careful,” he tells you once you’ve reached the relative safety of the lift in your building. It creaks and begins to rise up through the building, and WinWin stands right beside you, your arms bumping each other as the lift sways slightly. “There’s all kinds of freaks in this city.”

“You know, I once included you in that number.” 

WinWin frowns. 

“But, at the time, everyone was. I didn’t consider myself at all in the number of people here who weren’t entirely human.” You tap the back of his hand. “I’d just seen you for the first time. Yuta hated you. I’d never met a werewolf before, and before you and Yuta started your dispute, I thought you were human, so I did look at you as a little freaky.”

Still, Winwin frowns a little. “And when did that change?”

You shrug as the lift finally sways to a stop at your floor. “Some time after you saved me from being exorcized.”

He steps around you to open the door of your apartment, and sighs a little in relief, saying, “I was worried you were going to say, like, yesterday.”

You make no rush to tell Yuta or Ten about WinWin’s confession. If you’re not going to act on it, what does it matter? 

But you can’t deny that you think about WinWin’s words, that you fantasize about being with him just as much as you’d fantasized about him, Yuta, Ten, and Mark while you’d been with Hansol. 

Sometimes you think about it when you’re all hanging out together and you catch WinWin’s eye, or when you’re walking around the city together with just WinWin and his hand lingers just a little too long. Sometimes you think about it when you’re in the midst of having sex with one or the other of your demons, but you know that Ten might just burn up with envy if you mention WinWin while he’s the one you’re having sex with. 

So you hold your tongue. 

Things have been good between you and Ten since you kissed and made up for fighting over his jealousy and his disrespect to the faith. The last thing you need to do is create a spike in Ten or Yuta’s jealousy by bringing up WinWin. You don’t know what Yuta said to Ten that night, what words were exchanged at all before WinWin dropped you safely back at your door, but if Ten is still jealous, he hides it very well. 

Mostly he hides it by showering you with his affection. Plenty of cuddles, kissing, manifesting gifts he thinks you’ll like, and clinging to you so much that you can tell he’s making Yuta a little jealous. 

“Mine,” Ten murmurs, his face buried in your hair against your neck, his arms possessively around you. 

You may not need to sleep as much as you once did, but you do still require it from time to time, and you were just trying to sleep when Ten slid into bed with you, tangling his legs with yours and fitting himself behind you. He smells like brimstone and sweat, a strangely appealing combination, even in the circumstances. You’ve just been pulled out of your nap time dreams to be faced with all of this, and instead of startling and pushing Ten away, you lean back into him, welcoming his presence. You don’t know where Yuta’s gone off to, but he’d been in the apartment when you dozed off. Everything feels quiet and empty now, and if you do your best to attempt to sense your surroundings (a trick they’ve been trying to teach you over the last week), all you can find is you and Ten curled tightly together in this bed. 

Ten sighs a little, nuzzling against the back of your neck. You’re a little surprised, the more you wake up and remember that Ten had told you that he was going to be gone for a few days on a little mission for the Queen of the Night. Yuta hadn’t had to go, and he’d taken full advantage of having you to himself yesterday, which was probably part of the reason you’d felt tired enough to need sleep. 

“You’re back?” You ask after a moment. 

Ten hums. “I am.”

“You stink.” You let the words slip bluntly from your mouth. 

Ten almost always showers immediately after returning from whatever it is that he does when he goes to Hell or goes on special jobs. Ten’s very clean, that’s one thing you’ve certainly picked up on more since this more intimate part of the relationship began. So for him to climb into bed unshowered and smelling like the armpit of Hell, you wonder what’s wrong. 

“I know,” Ten agrees, voice barely above a whisper. “I just wanted to hold you, though.” His arms grow tighter around your waist. 

“If you hold me any tighter, I might just split in two,” you tease. Your first attempt at getting him to loosen his arms is unsuccessful, but after a moment Ten relents, and you’re able to twist around to face him.

His eyes are closed, eyebrows furrowed. You can see all the tiny veins in his eyelids, and when you extract a hand from where it’s trapped between your body and his, you lift your fingertips up to lightly touch Ten’s face. He’s beautiful, to an unreal degree. Of course, you’ve found him attractive and generally beautiful since your first meeting in the cemetery, but right now it’s really hitting you. His warm skin beneath your fingertips, the delicacy of his eyelashes and his semi-translucent eyelids makes you careful with your touch. His eyebrows relax slightly. The corners of his mouth twitch. 

Your fingertips move from his eyelids to his nose, to the wrinkled spot between his eyebrows, back down his nose to the bow of his lips. 

His eyes open, and you’re faced with a light brown color, caught somewhere between demon black and the yellow cat-eye. He watches you as you make a study of his face, memorizing every line and detail in dual perspective through your gaze and your touch. Ten’s eyes flutter half-closed and you swear he nearly purrs when your fingers drift to his hair and push along his scalp. His hair has grown out since you first met him. Nearly jaw-length and a little wavy. It’s soft, making him look pretty. 

Ten makes a little sound when you lift your head from the pillow to lean in, but he welcomes your slow tender kiss, the way you fold yourself against his chest, the way one of your legs slides over his hip to hook around his lower back. Ten places a hand on your waist, letting it slide down to your hip, and when he finds your bare thigh and the oversized shirt that you fell asleep in now riding up, he smiles and deepens the kiss, tipping you back onto your back. 

Ten’s thigh wedges between yours, and you start to move your hips in small circles against his thigh. 

“Did Yuta neglect you yesterday, or do you just miss me that much?” Ten teases, breaking away from your lips to sponge kisses along your throat instead. 

“You,” you sigh, “Missed you, Ten.”

“I missed you too, darling.” He sighs, breath feathering over your skin as he shifts the neck of your shirt to the side, exposing inches of your shoulder. His lips move like fire over your skin. “You’re the only Queen I want to serve anymore.”

You laugh, unable to help it, and you press at his shoulders. “You don’t mean that. I’m no Queen.”

Ten’s smile meets your shoulder, teeth nipping lightly. “Yes you are. To me. To Yuta. Queen of our hearts, mistress of our souls.”

“And what would your actual Queen say if she ever heard you say that?” You knit your fingers through his hair. 

Ten groans, hiding his face against your chest. “Honestly, darling, I don’t really give a damn. I’m serious.” He lifts his head, blazing gaze meeting yours. “It might sound cheesy and lame, but you’re the only Queen I want to acknowledge. I don’t belong to her, not the way I do to you. I’m tired of her missions, tired of it taking me away from you, tired of….” Ten trails off, hiding his face once again. “I’m tired of missing you.” 

“I’m right here.” You push your fingers through his hair until Ten tilts his head to look at your face. “You don’t have to miss me when I’m right here.”

His breath puffs against your shoulder. “I was thinking about you while I was away, you know. Daydreaming, you might say. About you all stretched out in your bed, right here like this, playing with yourself and waiting for me and Yuta. I daydreamt the feel of your cute bottom in my hands.” His hands slip beneath the shirt, around beneath your ass until he’s cupping the round cheeks. “The feel of pulling you into my lap, filling you with my cock when you’re so wet and tight around me. The way you ride me, your tits bouncing, all flushed and moaning. It was difficult to concentrate on the mission, anyway. I had to come home to you.”

You smile at him. “You spent your whole mission daydreaming about fucking me, but you’ve been home for how long now, and you’ve barely touched me.”

Ten sits up on his knees, his hands still on your ass, and he lifts your hips into his lap. “Let me remedy that.”

It’s easy enough for Ten to pull your panties to the side, baring your pussy to his hungry gaze. Easier still for him to tease your sensitive bits with his fingers, to fit two fingers perfectly inside you, curling them slightly to find that spongy spot inside you. 

You gasp his name, arching your back, and the shirt slides up to your tits. Ten lowers his head to your belly, kissing over your abdomen while he pumps his fingers inside you. His tongue swirls over your belly button, igniting a deeper heat in your belly. This is the closest you’ll get to Ten eating you out – his mouth on your belly while he fucks you on his fingers – and you’re perfectly fine with that because Yuta’s always eager to make up for Ten’s lack of oral sex. 

But today, Yuta’s not here, and Ten brings you crashing through your first orgasm on his fingers, his lips curling into a satisfied grin against your belly. His body between your thighs prevents them from closing around his hand, and he moves to kiss up your belly, pushing the shirt up with his free hand while he still strokes you through the orgasm, aftershocks shaking your limbs. Ten kisses your tits, over your heart, up your throat, and finally he reclaims your lips. 

His fingers leave you feeling empty, and you whine against his lips, wanting him to fill you again. 

Ten echoes the sound back to you, a little more breathy, definitely teasing. And when you feel his wrist nudge against your belly, you realize that he’s probably got his hand stuffed down his pants. The fingers that were just inside you are probably now wrapped around his cock. 

Your knees draw up a bit, affording Ten the room to press closer to you, now grinding against you and his hand in equal parts. You kiss him and twist your fingers in his hair, silently imploring him to just get his cock out and put it in you. Something of your message gets across to him, and Ten shuffles on his knees, and then you’re tipping your head back to moan his name as he rolls his hips and buries himself inside you. 

You bite your bottom lip as Ten pulls himself up, his hands sliding beneath your thighs to secure them around his hips. You like watching Ten like this, the way he moves so smoothly when he rolls his hips, hitting in deep. Ten likes watching you like this too, his warm brown eyes filled with lust and adoration as he watches one of your hands drift down between your legs to play with your clit.

“Just like that, darling,” he says, “Just like my daydreams.”

Ten is always so graceful, even when his composure begins to slip and his movements grow more determined, more intent with sparks lighting up his irises. He falls forward over you again, fists pressed to the mattress on either side of your head. His hair falls in front of his face, and you lift your hand to tuck one side of it back behind his ear. Ten turns his head to the side, brushing a kiss against your wrist, pushing even closer into you, readjusting your thighs and the tilt of your hips. 

“C’mon, little saint,” Ten teases, his teeth dragging lightly over your wrist. “Cum for me.”

You won’t be won that easily. 

Ten’s grin widens when you reach around to dig your nails into his muscled ass, when you lean up until your mouth touches his chest, lips around one of his nipples. Ten is so sensitive, that is one thing that you’ve learned since this started; he’s sensitive all over, so even just touching his chest like this and digging your nails in is going to drive him a little wild. 

His eyes flash from the subtle brown they’ve been to his favored yellow cat eyes. You can’t deny that although seeing that does in fact strike you as bizarre, you also kind of like how the different eyes change Ten. His entire aura shifts ever so slightly. There’s a slightly more animalistic way that he looks at you, the way he moves inside you, like he wants to have you fully and completely. 

And not that you would admit this aloud to him, but it vaguely makes you think of a different semi-animalistic man. A set of werewolf amber eyes. 

Sooner or later, you’re going to have to bring that up to your two demons, but for now you suppress those thoughts to your best ability, focusing only on Ten. 

You pull your lips away from his nipple, leaving kisses up his chest to his jaw, licking and sucking against a spot just beneath his jaw that makes Ten release a broken moan. His body presses impossibly closer as he sinks fully over you, hips twisting as he pushes your thighs open just a little more. 

You’re all skin to skin now, the heat between you bringing a dew of sweat. 

“Fucking perfect,” Ten praises you, his lips skimming your cheek. “Feel so tight around me, darling. And—“ You release one hand from his ass to run your fingers up the expanse of his back, just your fingertips on his skin, and Ten shivers against you. A soft moan and his eyes fluttering shut are big indicators that he’s enjoying it. 

“Are you gonna cum for me, Ten?” You lick beneath his jaw again. “Make me cum too.”

Your bodies are both slick with sweat now, skin sliding and sticking together in equal parts. Ten drives his cock inside you rapidly, all sense of his smooth grace gone in his rush to just achieve the bliss of orgasm. His fingers move into your hair, tightly pulling and guiding your mouth to his for a messy kiss. The angle that he’s hitting has you moaning desperately into the kiss, your nerves and every sense alight. 

Ten cums first, pulling out of you to cum over your belly, his cockhead blurting out cum against your clit as he pushes back down towards your entrance, pushing in deep to fuck you again. 

Your hands go to his sides, holding tight to his tiny waist as he presses his forehead to yours and fucks you breathless. Ten circles his hips, grinding his cock into you, his lips parted as you both pant and moan softly to each other. Your orgasm rocks through you, and you squeeze and clench and hold tighter to Ten through it. 

He collapses fully against you, every inch of your bodies pressed together, his forehead still against yours. 

You lie there in the blissful aftermath for a few moments before you catch another whiff of sulphur and sweat, and you know it’s not just him anymore.

“Now we both stink,” you complain, trying your best to push Ten off of you, or at least to squirm out from beneath him. You want to wash the stink off, to smell instead like your body wash that quite literally smells like a happy summer day. 

Ten, naturally, holds you even tighter, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head. “Now you smell like me because you’re mine,” he practically purrs. “You always smell like Yuta after you’ve been with him. When you hang out with Mark or WinWin, you smell like them. I want you to smell like me, even if just for a little bit.”

“Gross,” you pout, but you cease your squirming, content to lie here in sweat-damp sheets, playing with Ten’s hair idly, letting all the hours of eternity pass by if that’s what is going to make him happy.

<-previous || next–>

a/n: once again, I’m so sorry about the delay in getting this posted! I hope you enjoyed!!

#nct smut #yuta smut #ten smut #nct fics #wayv smut #nct #nct 127 #wayv #nakamoto yuta #yuta fics #ten fics #ten lee #unholy

[darl1ngd3ar3st]

Hey there! Can you do some Cole and Seth crushing headcanons pls? (If you don't want that's okay :])

I don't have the seth bundle so unfortunately I don't know a thing abt him and I don't wanna write your pookie wrong cuz I know how infuriating that can be but I'd be happy to write abt cole!! (I'm mentally ill)

falling for you hcs w some of my fav boyz (cole, reece, and cashew)

cole

he falls fast and he falls HARD. scraped his knee and everything.

he will do anything for you

like literally anything

your shoes untied? he ties em for you. oh you need a ride to work? say no more. you're hungry? let bro cook.

also he is mentally ill. I think he has bpd but I could be wrong

you are easily his favorite person. he is obsessed with you. he gets jealous and upset when you're not around him for too long because he worries you'll forget about him and the other person will steal you away.

he wants to devote his life to you and you only. nothing else matters. no one else matters (lol yandere sim reference)

anyways he's constantly trying to do things for you

helping you run errands, making sure you're eating and drinking enough water, getting you trinkets and doohickies he thinks you'll like, just overall being your number one supporter and your biggest fan

it's implied he has an actual shrine of the player in his closet somewhere in the game so. if you wanna interpret that as him being so fr go ahead

all in all, you are his everything and there's nothing he wouldn't do to make you happy and to hopefully get you to feel the same.

reece

mrrp meow mrrrp mrrp mrow

I love autism representation that doesn't involve harmful stereotypes

anyways. reece is a hopelessly romantic lovebug I think

he doesn't know how to flirt like at all so he just. meows at you and hopes you meow back

and he gets really excited when you do

he doesn't mean to, but he often shows affection by infodumping about his hyperfixations and special interests and then gets really embarrassed and apologizes a bunch later

please reassure his silly ass

also he forgets to drink water and do basic things for himself so if you remind him he's gonna fall head over heels all over again

also if you're neurodivergent he really loves hearing you talk abt your hyperfixations and special interests!!!!!! he loves it a lot!!!!!!!!

he tries to remember all of the little things but he forgets some stuff

but like if you mention that you think you wanna go to italy on a whim one (1, singular) time he's like "okay so we're going to italy" like a day later

also takes you to the renaissance era cuz it's pretty

and honestly I wouldn't be surprised if he confessed to you on the titanic

he unintentionally starts picking up stuff you say or do like if you have a stim where you say "yipee!!" like the autism creature he starts doing that

or like if you walk a certain way he starts walking like that without meaning to

long story short his main flirting tactic is being autistic and meowing at you

cashew

HES CANONICALLY DEMISEXUAL/DEMIROMANTIC ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

anyways so you're friends. you are friends

and one day you're in the library helping him pick out a book and your hand brushes against his while you're walking back to the car

except he brushes it off in his head cuz i mean come on. you're best friends.

and then like a day later he finds out the book you guys picked was an erotica or whatever it's called so he gets an absolutely jumpscare when the guy in the story pulls his dick out

like this was his exact reaction

BAHAHAHAH ANYWAYS

anyways in his head he's imagining one of the characters is you. like without even realizing it he's just like "oh yeah they've got h/c hair and e/c eyes and oh wait"

and when he realizes he's thinking of you he starts to panic like "WHAT THE FUCK IM IN LOVE WITH THEM. ok" and he comes to terms with it in like 15 minutes

but he starts doing a bunch more favors for you like carrying your stuff for you and offering you his coat

he is not subtle at all

like its so painfully obvious by the way he looks at you that he's head over heels

he doesn't know how to flirt honestly

it doesn't take long for him to just tell you how he feels

sorry this was so short lmfaoo thank you for the request!!!!! <33

#;;☆ archie headcanonz #blush blush game #blush blush #blush blush dlc #cole blush blush #cashew blush blush #reece blush blush #idle games #gn reader #male reader #female reader #x reader headcanons #gender neutral reader

[teecupangel]

How do you think they'd all respond to a pagan/wiccan?

This reminds me of my question of how Ubisoft is gonna fuck up AC Hexe when they revealed Codename Hexe last year XD

Anyway, let’s start...

Altaïr:

I could make a “what is this sorcery” joke but that would be too easy. If he sees a pagan or a wiccan, he wouldn’t really care. This man was raised in one of the most religious sect of the Brotherhood and turned out to be an atheist so, in all honesty, he couldn't care less who or what someone worships. What matters to him is the way someone worships must not endanger the innocent or get in the way of his mission. The most he’d do is interact with the pagan or the wiccan in a more intellectual way, gain more knowledge and information and then… just go his way.

Ezio:

This man was raised as a catholic in Renaissance Italy but he’s also someone who punch the living out of the pope so it really depends on when he would meet a pagan or a wiccan. Before the Auditore execution? Definitely feel awkward around them but wouldn’t insult them. During AC2? Vengeance is more important to him and he’d ally with anyone who would help him. Brotherhood? Dude is pretty much at war with the Church AND the Followers of Romulus, he has no beef with pagans or wiccans as long as they don’t side with his enemies. Revelations? This man has seen and experienced too much that he’s just chill with everything. They want to be allies? Sure. They just want to get on with their lives? That’s okay too.

Ratonhnhaké:ton:

Ratonhnhaké:ton was raised to respect the beliefs of others and he’s definitely more open-minded than a lot of people (even Haytham). He would try to respect their beliefs the best he could and would ask if he doesn’t know anything. He won’t necessarily be a practitioner himself but he’d definitely know more than normal.

Edward:

He has no problem with any pagan or wiccan. If it was a pirate though, he’d definitely take any of their superstitions because better safe than sorry, after all.

Arno:

France actually has a… ‘severe’ history with witch-hunts (around 1000 execution during the 14th to 17th century) so Arno would probably stay clear of any pagan or wiccan if he knows them but he wouldn’t turn a blind eye if they were being harassed (or worse). The most he’d do is help them escape and give them a chance of finding peace elsewhere.

Jacob:

If a wiccan or a pagan wants to be a Rook, Jacob will welcome them with open arms. He doesn’t necessarily believe them but he wouldn’t be rude to them. The most he’d do is light teasing but he’d stop as soon as he notices they’re feeling awkward or annoyed. To him, it doesn’t matter who they are. If they want to be a Rook and can follow the rules, they’re Jacob’s Rooks.

Evie:

She’s look at it from an intellectual standpoint and would be a bit wary considering the danger of being close to a wiccan or a pagan their time has. She won’t stop Jacob from making them their Rooks and she won’t try to bully them or push them around. She’d be a bit distant but it won’t really matter all that much since she’s not close to any of the Rooks anyway. She’d research about them though on the off-chance that they have any interest or information about any POE or Isu related things.

Bayek:

… I mean… he’s a Medjay from Ancient Egypt. He wouldn’t bat an eye if someone worships a specific god as he knows a ‘few’ people who do that. He also wouldn’t bat an eye on any ritual practices or spells they might do as long as it doesn’t endanger anyone. As far as Bayek is concerned, as long as no one is getting hurt, people should be free to worship as they please.

Desmond:

Dude would definitely try wicca. This man has been denied of so many things growing up that he’d try anything at least once… as long as it’s not too dangerous. If you’re looking to convert anyone, Desmond’s your guy.

Layla:

She’d be cool about it. Honestly, Layla looks like the type to have pagan or wiccan friends, maybe even someone who tried it when she was in college XD

#teecup where’s basim? #i haven’t finished mirage #i cannot in good conscience add him without #being sure of his personality #but on the top of my head? #it’s loki #he’d find it amusing #assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #ezio auditore #ratonhnhaké:ton #connor kenway #edward kenway #arno dorian #evie frye #jacob frye #bayek of siwa #layla hassan #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot

[heronchildlove]

Ok, so I don't have the energy for a proper fic but I can't get this idea for a "drama student moonlighting as a live model for art classes to get some extra bucks" Matthew au out of my mind and it's gonna drive me crazy if I don't share it, so here it is. Under the read more cause it got a bit long:

Thomas heard Alastair is attending that specific art class but he is too nervous to go alone so he begs James to go with him.

James is all "Tom, I can't draw a straight line, WHAT am I going to do in an art class????"

He goes anyway because Thomas is his cousin and he isn't going to let him down and just resigns himself to drawing the worst fruit bowl any human has ever seen.

Except the teacher walks in accompanied by the most beautiful guy James has ever seen instead and he barely gets to register this is a life drawing class because he is too busy gawking at the guy and omg he just winked at James and his entire brain short-circuited.

The guy's name is Matthew and he is a drama student and he is very happy to be there and be able to help and of course the guy is an actor, James thinks, he looks like a renaissance painting and sounds like an angel.

The teacher sends the guy into a back room to get ready and James tries to pull himself together and pretend he knows what he is doing as he tries to set up his paper and charcoal. He was going to ask Tom for help but he is already busy trying to start a conversation with Alastair and he doesn't want to interrupt them but it's ok he thinks he has got this.

That is, until Matthew comes back in a robe and, and on a cue from the teacher, takes off the robe and does his first pose, and James thinks he is hallucinating because it seems like he isn't wearing anything under the robe.

Oh. My god. He isn't wearing anything under the robe.

He pokes Tom and very vehemently points that out and asks what the fuck happened with the fruit bowls and Tom just looks at him like he is crazy because of course there are no fruit bowls, he had told Jamie it was a live model drawing class.

James is pretty sure Thomas DID NOT tell him that and, even if he did, how was he supposed to know that meant it would be a nude model class????

Worst thing is that aside from some initial awkward giggling no one else seems to really care there is a guy naked in the middle of the room aside from James.

And yes yes he knows the human body is natural and there is nothing wrong with being naked and it's for anatomy practice and the artistic view and all that but James is 1 very much not an artist and 2 still very much attracted to the very naked guy in the middle of the room.

In fact there is nothing about him that takes away from the impression he is the most beautiful guy James has ever seen or will ever see again in his life.

James decides he is going to be the slowest artist to ever exist and spend the whole class on Matthew's face and not look down in any way until it all finishes.

(Though Matthew makes it pretty hard when the teacher gives him a break and he decides to stretch his arms out over his head for a bit).

James has never been happier for the end of a class than when the teacher announces that's it for today and that they can go and thanks Matthew for helping them out because it means Matthew is finally putting the robe back on.

James puts all the things Thomas had lent him away as fast as he can and wants to drag Thomas by the arm so they get away from there as fast as possible but of course Thomas is stalling so he can talk with Alastair a little more and James wonders if aunt Sophie and uncle Gideon would be very mad if he strangled their only son.

But as he is starting to consider just dragging Thomas away for real he hears a "hullo" and when he looks to the side, Matthew himself is there smiling at him and he gets torn between short-circuiting again and worrying that Matthew is there because he saw James ogling him and is about to slap him for it so he immediately starts apologising.

Matthew doesn't get why he is apologising and there is no way James is explaining that so he says it's his first class like that and he felt awkward for staring (which is true).

Matthew chuckles and says he wouldn't be trying to be an actor if he minded people staring at him. Specially other beautiful people with artistic souls.

James wonders if he is crazy or if Matthew just called him beautiful. He tries to deflect by saying he is also sorry for the atrocious drawings he made of Matthew because he isn't an art student and is just there to give his cousin moral support.

Matthew says it can't be that bad and tries to get James to show the drawings to him but that is one mortification James has no intention to go through, thank you very much.

The teacher calls Matthew back to discuss something for the next class and Matthew tells James he is going to keep helping out for the next 2 weeks and he would love to see him there again.

James gives a non-committal answer and vows to himself he is absolutely never ever setting foot on that class again.

(But when Thomas asks him to go with him again next class, the fight he puts up is just for show.)

#giggling kicking my feet up can't stop thinking about them #heronchild #james herondale #matthew fairchild #tlh #the last hours #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #fanfiction #sort of #original #nanda writes #modern au

[luzho]

nine (9) people u'd like 2 get 2 know better:)

tagged by @ranilla-bean :3 thanks!! love participating<3

three ships: zukka, naturally; josuyasu; and the kiribaku

first ever ship: zukka, actually! i had never gotten into fandom at all, until 2020... watched atla, probably stumbled onto some silly zukka fanart and then i went 'oh! oh yeah totally. gay and silly!!'

last song: 'trample out the days' (2022) by orville peck<3 'bronco' is one hell of an album man.... and that VOICE. while writing already listening to 'kalahari down'. also on repeat: the hungarian rhapsody (because of daffy duck) and 'renaissance'. also: i really like checking out what yall listen to every once in a while:) otherwise, i will listen to the same stuff over and over

last film: 'se7en' (1995), i dont care for smart ass killers nor their idiot Methods, but i found the atmosphere here fascinating and so immersive! i also really liked the very on the nose discussions of ideas, of motivations, between the two detectives!! next is 'zodiac' and maybe an almodóvar one... ah also. technically didnt watch the whole thing, but watched the part of 'the two towers' when the ents decide to take down saruman; "a wizard should know better!!"

currently reading: 'the book of form and emptiness' (2021) by ruth ozeki, i adoooore both feeling the flow of attention and detail in the narration and getting that dialogue between narrators! i'm around halfway; and currently on hold because the other one is getting very good, 'la casa como jardín' (2021) by xavier monteys, treating the house as a garden! fascinating perspective and i have yet to get to the best parts!! reminds me so much of the concept of mat buildings and toyo ito's mediatheque in sendai...!

currently watching: jjk season 2. technically i'm also 'watching' spy family (makes me mad. will not speak about it) and a couple dramas (i miss you so much, attorney woo young woo...), because i'm present while they're on... but i just care about jjk

currently consuming: uh... dr pepper. i love sweets, and soda (it's fucking refresco, hate how it's called in english, man) it's the most efficient way of consuming sweetness<3

currently craving: hmm. pepsi. im a pepsi guy.

wow this isn't even nine things. mm, currently up to: drawing a blue period drawing!! its gonna be so blue:)) and trying to start that arch project i've been meaning to redo for years.... :^)

tagging: @sato-no-kurashi @chitsangenthusiast @petricorah @picnicbitchsokka @ozais-lobotomist @allgremlinart @fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma @adriancatrin @that-was-anticlimactic ٩( ᐛ )و

#delete later #again; not deleting but just my speaking tag:) #my journal

[ratgirlcopia]

my IDEAL october 7th event, for those wondering

with no regard for budget, practicality, or lore continuity. naturally.

anyway. the hardest part of this is realizing that the encore needs to kick off with kiss the go-goat which is gonna be a hell of a tone shift no matter what i do, but whatever. it's a tone shift already with its spot in the setlist and it still rules so. whatever.

first off, this happens DURING respite. sisters in floor-length habits with a bunch of swirly gold designs and such on them need to start getting onstage by the first chorus, then swarm copia during the guitar solo. could also happen after the final chorus if they drag out the ending a bit longer, but i feel like starting the swarm during the guitar solo would create the most insane energy. copia can keep singing while being nun-swarmed, that's fine. prioritize the mask switch during the solo, then do all the other outfit pieces afterward.

the resulting outfit switch has a pink/green/gold color palette with a new cornette (bigger, gold with a sunburst halo behind it, bit large and unwieldy, but incredibly cunty). vestment design is a cross between the usual papal look and an isabella de' medici fit. the dress is open in the front with floral brocade pants underneath. hair is styled in a side-part bob with some artful waves. mask sculpt is the same, but the rat jaw is gold now. lipstick remains black, eye sockets remain black but the surface area that's black is a bit smaller now and the outer edges are gold. could also imagine it with a dark pink lip and green skull sockets rather than black if we want to go full panto clown. i, uh, think about tobias saying copia's paint would be in technicolor next a Normal Amount.

so, this look is revealed right as respite ends for about...ten to fifteen seconds allotted for audience screaming and then the lights go out.

then we get a copia speech. some playful banter, a little "you thought i was getting murdered, didn't you? were you even listening? what do you think go softly means? i was fucking with you! eheheh. i will die, but not today. no, not today." and then this goes into a nice little thing about how it's kind of a death and kind of a rebirth, a ~renaissance~ if you will. then drops something like "you like the new look? i forgot to mention, i'm also a woman. and in honor of that, i'm going to sing a little song by my dad. who, eh, did not respect women. or me."

and then go-goat starts.

#copiaposting #the giant cornette can come off for dance macabre. honestly it'd be hard to wear for go-goat too but it has to be on for at least ONE song. #the outer layer of the skirt can also come off for dance macabre and underneath there's coattails. #outfits that would cost one hundred thousand american dollars but that i neeeeeed.