#but if there is a god i think my theory would be a kind way of looking at it
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Okay, there are two things about the ending of GO S2 that I cannot get out of my head after finishing the rewatch:
1. Gabriel's descent to earth
2. Aziraphale's reaction to the offer of Metatrash
(The rest under the cut)
The thing about Gabriel's descent to earth is that when he comes down to earth, he has not been fired yet. He decides to come down.
What's interesting about this is that in the last few minutes of the last episode Gabriel says his original plan was to leave heaven to go to hell, to join Beelzebub.
The quote goes:
Beelzebub: "Silly, silly angel. Why?"
Gabriel: "I was coming to you, but I... I forgot."
So... he had not been fired yet (because he left heaven before Michael and the lot could get a hold of him again). And he had originally planned to go to Beelzebub ("oh, you're sending me to hell, aren't you?" -> he was kind of counting on that). But after hearing he will lose his memory and go down to earth, he decides to ditch that plan and make himself forget all of it to go to earth (where he did not really intend to go in the first place) to give a box to Aziraphale that says "I am in the fly", that he knows will make him remember.
Why?
My working theory is that since he was the highest ranking angel, he knew about the plans of heaven. He knew about the second attempt at Armageddon of course and he did not want that to happen, because of his love for Beelzebub and the war that would break out. But I reckon he also already knew about the Second Coming.
And by wiping his own memories, he deleted that knowledge for all of heavens associates. But by storing it in the fly and transporting that to earth instead of hell, he brought it to the safest place he knew.
"The Second Coming will be a fearful, mournful time for the wicked, but it will be a day of peace for the righteous."
I don't know if I am reading something into it here, but to me it also sounds like a clue. The only other pair that kind of unites the powers of heaven and hell like Gabriel and Beelzebub is Aziraphale and Crowley. And we know that connection to be quite a strong one (as seen by the "teeny tiny miracle" that ended up sounding every god damn alarm bell in heaven). Crowley is a fallen angel and does not particularly care for heaven or hell and Aziraphale is still an angel and also does not conform with everything that heaven does. And Gabriel knows that.
BUT as far as we know, neither Aziraphale nor Crowley have had contact with the fly or the memories. For now we only know Gabriel kept his memories out of heaven by going to Aziraphale and that he probably knew more than he let on.
The question is, does the fly still exist or did it get destroyed when it went into Gabriels eye?
Also, given the CLUE that takes up almost half an episode - the part of the song that we don't really get to hear is this:
"Everyday seems a little longer,
Every way, love's a little stronger"
Everything we have seen points to an ending where you don't have to choose a side. Where there is no need to categorize into black and white, but to just accept shades of grey. Which is obstructed by heaven (the big corporate agenda, that needs people to think in black and white) and hell (which holds the outcasts that could not keep up with the agenda, but still cling onto it in their own competitive way).
Okay and this is the perfect transition to Aziraphales reaction to the Metatrons offer.
Because after years (or millennia in Aziraphale's case) of being oppressed and silenced and having to be careful around everything he says, I think Metatrons offer to put him in charge of heaven is in Aziraphale's eyes the only perspective of ever getting out of his misery while still doing good.
He *could* have given up heaven and fallen like Crowley, joining him that way, but instead he takes the route of trying to take Crowley with him to the very top of heaven.
Which, in my eyes, is a very very clear sign of the abusive relationship he has with heaven.
I don't think he realises that he is still just a pawn in a big chess game, also and especially as archangel of heaven.
As both Beelzebub and Gabriel said: "As if we make the rules..."
That is not how it works.
(I also find it very interesting, that the voice of god (basically the manager of heaven) asks if anyone ever "asks for death" (I mean, come on) whereas god, talking to Job, is genuinely fascinated by him and his goodness.)
I don't know if I can put this thought process into proper words, but I feel like the problem is that Aziraphale is still clinging to the whole concept of "doing good" and preserving his own status in the organisation. I don't think he is going up there to "change it from the inside" with a wicked plan in mind. When the Metatron made the offer, he told him that he would be "such a good leader, kind and honest", "be able to make a difference, be put in charge of everything". Which is exactly how they get you. He did not tell him he would be in charge of the second coming right off the bat. He lured him with being able to make everything better for everyone (which is all Aziraphale really wants) while keeping and continuing to receive approval from above (which Aziraphale is so afraid of losing).
Which is also what he tells Crowley about. The trust he is being given, the opportunity to make a change, the opportunity for Crowley to regain validation from heaven.
And only when he has accepted the offer, the Metatron specifies the details of the deal and that "doing good for everybody" means initialising the Second Coming, that has already been well planned (and that is everything Aziraphale never wanted to be a part of, but he won't disappoint them by saying no now).
"We could have been us" feels so powerful in that context, because I feel like what it really meant was "we could have been us without the approval of anyone". Without the need to justify their actions, think about right or wrong in the sense that heaven or hell would have categorized them. The freedom to work as a team, as the shades of grey they naturally are, containing both "good" and "evil" in a way that they balance each other, not desperately trying to put one of them out. (Also worth noting here, that throughout the seasons Aziraphale *has* done "evil", but only if he could somehow twist it to be "good" (see the episode with Wee Morag, right?), which showcases the pointlessness of categorizing again).
"I forgive you" from Aziraphale is such a heartbreaking line here, too. Because it is not him speaking, really. It is him already speaking in place of the organisation he is going to work for. "I forgive you for not regaining approval. I still love you."
"Don't bother", Crowley says and his whole posture drops. "For me it was never about that."
#good omens#aziraphale#crowley#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#good omens meta#good omens fan theories#metatrash#good omens gabriel#good omens 2#good omens s2
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The Apothecary Diaries
S1E20 First Watch
Here's where I watch The Apothecary Diaries for the first time and give my thoughts, analysis, predictions, and occasionally I stumble into a joke.
To start at the beginning:
Episode 1
My character/locations cheat sheet
Suiren - Jinshi's attendant
Lakan - strategist. Maomao's biological father.
Lihaku - the military officer who took Maomao out of the Rear Palace
Basan - an officer who is related to Gaoshun
Sir Kounen - Jinshi's older acquaintance who died
Suirei: court lady who doesn't like Maomao
Concubine Loulan - the new Pure Consort
Maomao wakes up. In Jinshi's bed. It's better than recovering in the infirmary.
Suiren helps Maomao prepare to see the others who are all eager for answers. The others also includes Basan, who can fuck all the way off. Why is this guy in a perpetual state of pissed off?
Jinshi hasn't pieced together what happened and asked Maomao to explain. She explains the parts of the conspiracy that she's noticed. That Sir Kounen's death was part of this shocks Jinshi. We get a glimpse of someone ordering replacements of the ceremonial items that were stolen. That person is the exact same guy who was around at the deaths of Sir Kounen and the official who ate poisoned seaweed. Still whoever is the mastermind, must have been aware of the metalworker's technique for this conspiracy to work.
Maomao takes a moment to consider Jinshi's status:
Maomao: Who is this man really?
Oh my god is it finally happening?
Maomao: Knowing would only land me in more trouble. It's got nothing to do with me.
You have got to be kidding me. I suppose I should be happy that she accepts the truth, even if she refuses to look at it.
Suirei and her coconspirators went to a lot of trouble to try to kill Jinshi. What is the connection between Suirei and Jinshi?
Oh Suirei is dead. She took poison. Made from her morning glories perhaps? And she was the sole mastermind behind the incident. Right.
Lihaku is here. He's starting to grow on me. Or maybe he just seems preferrable after having to tolerate Basan. What is with all the men in this palace anyway?
Lihaku: Well anyway the mystery's been solved. I'll see you.
That should not have made me laugh the way it did. The way he just drops this very much not solved case and walks away. Lihaku proves he is not the man for Maomao at every turn.
Maomao wonders if Suirei is the type to commit suicide. She thinks maybe, because Suirei was so apathetic, but their last conversation was so strange. She talked about resurrection medicine, which is impossible, but if Suirei took a poison that only made her appear dead... and Maomao can figure out the antidote, then maybe she can "resurrect" Suirei and maybe get some answers? Or is there something else going on here?
Maomao is on to something, and she is so excited. She asks Jinshi for a favor to speak with the doctor who examined Suirei's body. Her enthusiasm for solving mysteries is on full psychotic display, and even having seen it before, Jinshi is a little taken aback.
Gaoshun doesn't want Jinshi in the morgue.
But:
Jinshi: Where the apothecary goes, so will I.
Gaoshun: *sigh* Naturally.
Gaoshun, sweety, if you already knew, then why did you bother?
It seems Suirei was depending on this doctor who is in love with her to perform her autopsy, because he never cut her open to find out what kind of poison she ingested. Maomao reveals that the woman in Suirei's casket is not in fact Suirei. She then taunts the doctor into revealing the truth, that he didn't perform the post-mortem.
Gaoshun is quick to get between the angry man and Maomao.
Maomao's theory is that Suirei concocted a strong poison, containing thornapple, that made her appear dead, but later when the affects wore off, she had help from her coconspirators to replace her body with someone else's and escape. We get another glimpse of our mysterious man. To be able to get in and out they disguised Suirei as a vendor.
Jinshi thinks it's crazy to risk taking such a dangerous poison. Maomao is quick to admit she would do it. And Jinshi knows her all too well, because he says she would do it simply for the pleasure of it.
Maomao has some professional respect for Suirei and all the skills, planning, and daring it took to pull this off. Maomao seems a bit unhinged here; she laughs maniacally as she considers how to get the elixir recipe from Suirei.
Then she quickly switches affect to sweetly ask if she may have her leg restitched. And for as much as he likes Maomao, sometimes Jinshi really doesn't know what the hell he's suppose to do with this girl, because he's completely exasperated that she would wait so long to mention that her leg is bleeding. But of course she waited. She will always put her own well being behind everything else.
Oh. Concubine Loulan. We haven't seen her in quite awhile. She has one of her attendants whisper in her ear and we see her eye narrow for just a moment. Was she receiving word about Suirei? Is Lady Loulan involved in this scheme somehow? Why come at Jinshi?
Jinshi is sitting up alone at night thinking. We've seen him do this before and find something to smile about. This time, he's pensive, troubled. Thinking about the mystery that is Suirei; how she came into the palace and what her motives were.
Then we have the greatest conversation ever between Jinshi and Gaoshun with so many wonderful twists and turns.
Gaoshun comes in to share a drink with Jinshi after tending to Maomao. Jinshi has been thinking a lot about Maomao, and particularly about what to do about Lakan.
Gaoshun drinks first, testing for poison or an aphrodisiac? Just what does Jinshi have to drink here that tastes so bad? Gaoshun claims that Jinshi need not drink it, but Jinshi claims it is his duty as a eunuch??? Okay man...
Gaoshun teases Jinshi for acting like a child by holding his nose. I wish Gaoshun would get off that already. It's so fucking patronizing. And I know Jinshi has responsibilities and expectations and all that shit, so he has to behave a certain way in public, but does Gaoshun really have to enforce all of that when it's just the two of them relaxing at home?
Jinshi tells us here that "Jinshi" the eunuch is 24 years old, and that "Jinshi" is a persona he uses to operate in the Rear Palace.
Alright, okay, so Jinshi takes this... concoction to suppress his manhood. I'm trying to figure out mechanically exactly what that means, and I think I know, but wow. What a thing to do to yourself. Gaoshun threatens that this stuff will one day make Jinshi impotent. Maybe, quit taking it then? Like why is Jinshi risking it? Is this really expected of him? Like, what if something happened to the current emperor while he doesn't have an heir? Wouldn't the empire need to Jinshi as their back up? Why would he even be permitted to risk impotency before the line of succession is secure? It's really fricking odd to me.
What is wrong inside Jinshi's head or life that this is something he does?
We learn that Gaoshun is a GILF grandfather. And that anger-management nightmare Basan is about to wreck some lady's life with marriage. He's only 19, like Jinshi.
Jinshi is only fucking 19? He's, like, just barely an adult. Still a teenager. What a horrible world he lives in, that it would crush this young man with so much responsibility before he has even lived two decades. I want cry, and wrap him up safe and warm and make him some soup. Is it okay that I just want to mother this young man? Can we get Ah-Duo back?
Gaoshun wants to retire, but he can't do it until he sees Jinshi settled. Jinshi says he'll do his best. But at this pace, it's going to take him 10 more years to marry Maomao, so hopefully Gaoshun's grandkids won't be completely grown by the time he gets to meet them.
Oh Lady Loulan can speak! I've never heard her use words before. And Jinshi is sparkling. I feel sick when I see it now. Loulan is constantly changing her look to the point that the emperor cannot recognize her, and I'm sorry what? That's weird enough to be important.
We learn that at least the current emperor isn't a fucking pedophile like his own father was.
Oh Jinshi.... doesn't know about the baby switch? What the hell? I was convinced he did know. So how did Lady Ah-Duo treat him? I mean he went over to her palace to drink with her alone. The emperor really thinks Jinshi is his little brother huh? Who does know about Jinshi's true identity then? Just me? Do I even know? Have I gotten something mixed up here?
Jinshi wonders why the emperor hasn't fathered a new crown prince already. Yeah like what the hell? He didn't even have another wife after Lady Ah-Duo lost her uterus, until he inherited the throne and the Rear Palace. He's got at least 4 main wives, 2 that he doesn't touch, and 2 that he definitely does. And also, like, all the other lesser ranked ladies of the harem. What is this guy doing? Or rather not doing?
Jinshi sounds like he would like a prince to come along so he could gtfo of the line of succession and do his own thing.
Speaking of babies. Lady Gyokuyou is looking exhausted and... pregnant? Yup she's preggo. And Maomao gets to go be a midwife! Yay!
It seems every time Maomao puts down roots she is ripped away to go some place else. This time she literally put down roots when she planted her herb garden. She's come to enjoy this life here, and the people in her orbit. And being near Jinshi. But now, who knows when she will be able to come back.
So why send Maomao away? Is Jinshi concerned after the assassination attempt that it's too dangerous to keep Maomao close? Does he see sending Maomao to the Rear Palace as a way to keep her out of Lakan's grasp? Is this because of Jinshi's conversation with Gaoshun? Does he intend to get serious about finding a wife, one who isn't Maomao?
Maomao is comforted by the thought that she will be away from Lakan, and wonders if this is Jinshi's way of looking out for her. For sure it is. As much as Jinshi would like to keep Maomao around , he will always let her go if he thinks it is better for her. He did it before when he fired her from the Rear Palace the first time.
I am a little excited for Maomao to reunite with the ladies of the Jade Pavilion, even if it means more space between her and Jinshi.
Wow, Lady Gyokuyou's baby has gotten big. How much time has passed? I was thinking a year, but maybe it's closer to two or three? Maomao sees the emperor enjoying some family time and thinks there may be more to him than she thought. I can't read that guy at all. Maomao spares a thought for how difficult the emperor's position is politically with his concubines.
Lihaku is at Verdigris House and he over hears the news that one of the princesses is about to be bought out and he's terrified that it's the one he's in love with. I may care about Lihaku's personal problems some day, but it's not today.
To start at the beginning:
Episode 1
Next Episode:
Episode 21
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The phrase "6000 years of this" got me thinking about the dawn of agriculture and about theories that tie the agricultural revolution to the dawn of patriarchy. If that theory is true and if my assumption that the 6000 years line is a reference to patriarcy is true it suggests a few things: humans can and have existed without patriarchy(gods), but also that it has been with us long enough to kind of warp what a human is, that it has a tendency to sneak in an reproduce itself even when we are actively resisting it, and that a genuine break from it would be almost too revolutionary to accomplish. Perhaps I am reading into it, but I am so grateful for the way that your show makes me think!
Thank you! It was actually intended more as a reference to the broad historical rise of city civilisations in the TSV world and all of the hierarchial / imperial / technological consequences of that (hence the rest of Cross' monologue is about achievement and progress - or a lack of it - as well as the 'bad old days' before 'real' civilisation came along).
But I think your note about what it takes to break away from something so deeply embedded in the way we live is completely right and a really interesting insight re agriculture!
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still making excuses for oisin in my head btw just to keep you all updated
#d20#fhjy#I am CONVINCED it is not as simple as the rat grinders being evil little haters#like.. maybe I'm overcomplicating it but idk#besides the fact it's not really brennan's MO I think the rat grinders have some big pieces of info wrong#and are acting uninformed in some way whether that's devils nectar etc#don't ask me what I think is going on with kipperlily I have not a clue#I just think that her saying she didn't want to involve oisin in the material purchasing is important#meta gamey wise I think he would have pushed oisin and maryann harder as allies if the ultimate outcome#is them as straight up enemies#same with ivy in a way#that klck IS jace theory is crazy but I kind of love it so that's swirling in my brain somewhere#I'm just so fascinated by her and the fact that her rage against riz is long term is CRAZY and adds such a layer here#god I love how brennan writes a mystery bc I am all turned around but so intrigued#I can't believe I get to watch a bad kids season live as it comes out having the time of my life
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being the only fan of something is so great because i am the sole ruler of this kingdom. no one is around to tell me my headcanons suck or that all the characters are ooc
however it also sucks because i am the only fan. no one is around to support my headcanons or tell me they love my portrayal of the characters
#in a way i'm really glad there's no celceta fans. i don't think i could take meeting another person who knows the game#building your house out of donuts and all that#same with zestiria i'm very glad there's no one around to tell me how ooc sorey is in my mind palace or any of that#but god it would be nice to have a friend to bounce ideas off of once in a while. get some positive reinforcement in this echo chamber#of mine#altho the thing is i don't really have these kinds of elaborate aus and stories and headcanons for stuff with an actual fandom.#i love psychonauts with all my heart but the simple fact that there are other people who enjoy it just makes me feel shyer or smth#like i know that these people have played the games a million times more than i have and are a million times more obsessed with the charact#characters than i am so why should i bother developing my own headcanons abt these characters when there are people out there who do it muc#much better than i ever could. so why bother at all you know#that's why i tend to be a passive enjoyer of most things i care about on here#i'm not out here giving complex and unique takes on psychonauts or mario plots or characters#i'm just gonna enjoy what's presented to me by people who are cooler than me#and when i do have original thoughts it's only gonna be about stuff nobody else gives a flying fuck about. like tales or ys or tok#which is kind of sad! i'm not gonna lie!#but i guess i do this to myself huh. if i managed to find an ys fan they'd probably scare me out of my own theories#idk man. theres not really a solution is there#wyvern rambles
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hi yeah holy fuck holy shit y'all
gotdamn this is a story for the ao3 author hall of fame. im still homeless and i promptly realized a couple of days afterwards that uh yeah no can do the whole living independently thing so im looking for a group home. in the meantime i managed to get into a decent shelter, get acchs insurance, and am working on getting a case manager.
holy fuck it's been quite the. week or so? the days have kinda been blurring together so idk. hopefully i'll get into a group home soon. i've got some family that i'm gonna try and contact in case they'd be more understanding than my parents about the whole 'being disabled' thing.
anyways that's the short version. long version under the cut
so basically bc im an exmo i've been incredibly isolated as i've tried and failed to build an entire new support system from the ground up. i had one singular friend who i could reliably talk to (i think i have two now and a few case workers so that's an improvement) and even then it was only over the phone. aside from that, i do have y'all online here, but again, i need a device in order to be able to chat with y'all.
and because my body is an absolute shitshow - in addition to my executive functioning issues - i wasn't able to get much done around the house. now, for some reason, my parents looked at me and decided that this shit is all a lack of responsibility. don't get me wrong, i couldn't exactly be responsible for much. but the key word there is couldn't, not wouldn't.
and for some reason, they look at the situation and decide, time and time again, that the best solution is punishment - by taking away my phone and internet access. not necessarily out of the ordinary for most parents, but given the circumstances, that's absolute dogshit for my mental health.
so, when i literally developed a new fuckin health issue that left me bedbound for a couple of days, my mom told me that we were going to 'have a conversation'. aka my shit was gonna get taken. again.
and that would've been it for me. isolated, in pain, sick, tired, without anybody to lean on. so i said fuck that shit, packed my stuff, and walked out.
i started off at a shelter that used to be a prison, and oh my fucking god i don't think i've ever been more pro-prison-abolition or whatever the fuck it is. like goddamn that shit's inhumane. i ended up having to take a trip to the ER because they didn't stock enough water, resulting in me becoming so dehydrated that my ribs cramped to the point of keeping me from breathing.
not long after that i spiralled a bit so i went to a crisis center where i got people that started working on my case. we determined that i'd be best off in a group home and they transferred me to a transitional facility while they got that figured out.
I get there and discover that my hip, which i thought had just popped weird, felt like it had dislocated. Thankfully, i think i just sprained it, but I was in a lot of pain that first night. Night shift came around to take vitals, I told them what was going on, and they proceeded to not only wave me off, but also one of them looked at me - as i was writhing in pain, crying, trying to keep quiet, and digging my nails into my skin to distract myself - with the look you reserve for dog shit you've just stepped in. So, you know, that was fun. Also nobody there got their medications that night. The shitshow that was nightshift there is gonna be important later.
i had tried to make friends with some of the people there that evening, and, being myself, I spoke very openly and honestly about my queerness and sexual history (or lack thereof), like a dumbass, and obliviously believed them when they said that I was one of the guys.
I later overheard them making plans to correctively rape me. Thankfully, I was on my way out to the hospital for my hip, so I notified day shift before I got into the ambulance.
I spent that night at the hospital, sleeping in a lobby chair (the hospital staff were very sympathetic to my situation, thankfully), and then called the crisis center that was attached to the transitional facility. managed to get taken into the crisis center, where i stayed for a couple of days. one of the guys who'd been making the plans ended up transferring into the same crisis unit, so that was a fuckin' blast to deal with. thankfully, the people at the crisis unit cared and did their jobs well, so i had eyes on me at all times and stayed safe.
eventually, i got sent back to the shelter i started at, then transferred back to the original crisis unit where people had been working on my case. i got some rest, got sick from eating gluten because i was so sleep deprived that i didn't care, then they got me into a much nicer shelter. i have a meeting with someone in about an hour and a half to try and get into a youth shelter, and I'm also going to attempt to contact some family members that might be more understanding and willing to help me while I pursue a group home.
I am very fucking tired, and despite everything that I've been through, I still wouldn't go back to my parents to save my life. Definitely gonna be a lot to unpack with my therapist.
o7
#byrd chirps#byrd's business#tw rape mention#tw sa mention#tw corrective rape mention#tw homelessness#tw ableism#also i have a theory about god that's like. you know i don't necessarily believe in him#but if there is a god i think my theory would be a kind way of looking at it
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𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖉𝖏𝖆𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖙 - sub!hyunjin x sub!reader x dom!chan
wc: 2,804
cw: hyunjin is a slut, so is the reader, chan likes it that way. SMUT MDNI.
synopsis: while shooting the red lights mv chan noticed something about hyunjin and now he's got a theory he wants to test, he just needs your help.
a/n: was literally plagued with visions of overstimulating hyunjin and making him cry soooo this is what i ended up with. oops. also if there are any spelling errors pls don't tell me bc ive read this trash so many times trying to work it all out and if i have to re-read it again i might go blind.
sw: dirty talk, daddy kink, unprotected sex (pls be smarter than that), bondage, threesome, some gay shit, breeding, blowjobs, lingerie, deepthroating, general toughness, waxing poetic about hyunjins beautiful face. idk probably more but im bad at this shit.
hwang hyunjin is beautiful. its a well documented fact, no ifs ands or buts about it. he has the kind of face ancient civilizations would have gone to war for. old world dynasties would have been reduced to rubble over a face like his. hwang hyunjin is the kind of beautiful where it almost hurts to look at him. it makes you question your belief in a higher power because, how could there possibly be any room for debate on if there is a God when there is simply no other reasonable explanation for how a devine creature like him came to exist on this earth? so with all that being said, there's no way he could get any more beautiful. or so you thought.
it had always been your assumption that there was no possible way he could look any more stunning than he naturally does; but your mind was changed the minute you saw the lithe expanses of his smooth milky skin held captive by blood red ropes. you felt an astounding amount of pride as your eyes bore witness to his soft flesh being pulled tight by the coarse material; the blood under his skin rushing to the surface where the ropes were knotted artfully over his collarbone, across his abdomen, splayed over his pelvis, looped around his upper thighs and finally circling the base of his dick. and you had worked hard to make sure the knots around his wrists and ankles were comfortable yet sturdy before attaching them to each bedpost.
you had taken your instructions very seriously, as the man giving them to you from edge of the bed, wouldn't allow any of this to continue if either of you were to disobey his direct orders, and dear god you would rather die than see this endeavor be cut short.
you admired your handiwork a bit more before the rumbling of a particular voice hit your ears.
“how do you feel baby? is this what you wanted? y/n did a good job huh? you look so pretty.” chan spoke softly to hyunjin, absentmindedly petting his head. hyunjin looked up at his leader and nodded, unsure if he could speak without whining as the ropes pulled across his body with every move.
“yeah i knew you'd like this. the whole time we were shooting “red lights” i saw you ya know? the way your breathing got shallow when the staff chained you up. the way your eyes glazed over when they gave you instructions to pull against your restraints. god, standing above you on that bed, watching you writhe below me was a sight to see. my good boy just wanted to be tied up and used huh?” chan said to him, his finger hooked under hyunjin's chin forcing his head up to look him in the eyes. a whimper forced its way out of him as his hips instinctually bucked and the the sensation of the ropes took over.
you couldn't drag your eyes away from his lower body. the sharp angle of his hipbones jutting up to the ceiling as his cock drooled uncontrollably, the fluid flowing from his tip dribbling down to darken the rope wrapped snugly around the base of him. without even thinking you reached out and wrapped your hand around his shaft, you were just so overwhelmed with the desire to touch him. the feeling was unexpected and the sound that punched its way out of hyunjin's chest was glorious. his body attempted to curl in on itself but the ropes kept him firmly in place. you watched the range of emotions flicker over his face in rapid succession; surprise at your initial touch, pleasure from finally being granted a little stimulation, sensitivity from being denied his pleasure for so long, shock when he remembered the restraints keeping him spread open, frustration at not being able to move, and finally acceptance as he gave in to the languid stroking you were doing. he continued to toss as the pleasure took over, thrashing wildly against the mattress and moaning into the pillow.
hyunjin's noises were reduced to whimpers as chan’s hand squeezed around his jaw, directing hyunjin to look him in the eyes. “shhh baby boy, y/n is gonna make you feel good okay? you'll let her do that, won’t you? you'll lay there and take what i let her give you, understood? words please, jinnie.” chan cooed. “yes daddy. i'll be good for you, for her too i promise. i'll be your perfect boy just like always, i promise, please! god just please keep touching me!” hyunjin choked out, making chan grin. he leapt up from where he was perched on the edge of the bed and rounded the corner until he was standing behind you. you repressed a shudder as chan’s hand slid up your back, tracing over your spine and occasionally tripping over the straps of the lingerie set you were wearing. his hand glided up into your hair with ease until his palm cradled the base of your skull, then suddenly he locked his fingers to grab your hair firmly by the roots and pulled you upright so your back was against his chest as he angled your head to the left exposing the expanse of your neck. the suddenness of his movements caused you to lose your grip on hyunjin’s dick and he cried out from the loss of contact, his hips frantically bucking into the air in a fruitless attempt to find friction.
chan hummed as his lips made contact with the skin of your neck and continued as he licked, nipped, and sucked at your flesh. he hooked his chin over your shoulder as his right hand charted a course down your abdomen to the apex of your thighs where the pads of his thick fingers rubbed over your damp slit. when you could finally manage to pry your lids open, you locked eyes with hyunjin. he was practically panting watching chan devour your throat and palm your pussy. “so pretty y/n, y’look so pretty. like a dream. want to paint you one day, just like that.” he whispered. hyunjin's words and gaze coupled with chan's wandering hands and skilled mouth were almost enough to send you over the edge.
“now here’s what's next my loves. y/n, you're going to get on your knees, lean down on your elbows and suck hyunjin's pretty dick right into the back of your throat okay? i want you to take him as far as you can, and quickly. do not stop until i tell you to. not if he begs, not if he cries, not if he screams. got it?” you nodded as well as you could with his left hand still in your hair. chan released you and you quickly got into the position he had described, gently grabbing hold of hyunjin's cock. “i’m sorry jinnie, but you know i have to.” you quipped right before you took him into your mouth and as far into your throat as you could manage. the garbled noise that ripped its way out of hyunjin's throat threw you into over drive as you bobbed your head and sucked him like your life depended on it. he was groaning deeply and his limbs were flailing the best they could in his current predicament. his back arched up off the mattress so beautifully you wished chan would take a photo.
“fuck, fuck, FUCK. jesus chri- oh my god! y/n, sweetheart slow down- PLEASE! oh fuck i can- i can feel- fucking fuck. i can feel your throat squeezing me so tight!” hyunjin wailed throwing his head back, the veins in his neck becoming more prominent as he grit his teeth.
suddenly chan’s hand made its way to your pussy again and you gasped around the thickness embedded in your throat causing hyunjin to hiss.
“crotchless panties angel? so proud of you. always so prepared for daddy huh? know just what i like.” chan muttered from behind you. you heard the telltale jingle of his belt being opened and the zipper being lowered on his jeans. he had already removed his shirt earlier so he was naked quickly, and he wasted no time before rubbing the head of his dick along your weeping folds.
“now i'm going to fuck you nice and deep the way you like and i want you to keep sucking my good boy okay?” chan said but before you could respond he shoved himself into you in one swift thrust. chan was not small in girth or length for that matter but the stretch you felt every time he fucked you open was delicious. you couldn't help but moan around the cock in your mouth which in turn caused hyunjin to scream at the unexpected vibration. chan’s laugh that followed was dark and proud, thrilled that he held so much power and that you both let him use it.
“fuuuuck sweet girl this cunt is always so fucking tight huh? doesn't matter how many times i fuck you or let someone else fuck you, you always snap right back. god i love being inside you.” chan growled as his hands gripped your hips and held you steady as he pummeled his way in and out of your slippery hole. the whole time he was fucking you, you were being forced onto hyunjin's cock as well, every moan muffled by the thickness battering your throat.
“hyunjin is y/n a good cocksucker? hmm? you think? you think she's better than you were?” chan taunted him as he drove himself inside you over and over again. “remember when we had our first one on one meeting? just me and you alone in the studio? i said 'hyunjin if you really are serious and want to stay in this group i need one thing from you’ do you remember that? i do.” you could hear the grin in his voice even if you couldn't see him. hyunjin groaned and mumbled what sounded like a yes. “i also remember how fast you sank to your knees and scrambled to try and open my belt. you thought i wanted you to suck me off to stay in the band. and you were so willing to give me whatever i wanted. all i was going to ask you for was your loyalty and your honesty in all things. but you offered up that pretty mouth quick as a bitch and who was i to say no?” chan laughed at the memory as he threw a foot up onto the bed to change the angle he was fucking into you from so he was now nailing your gspot on every thrust.
“y-yes i remember. ‘course i do. i knew w-what you were gonna ask me because felix told me beforehand what you were going to ask, what you asked a-all of them. i just- fuck yes keep sucking y/n im so close. i jus’ wanted you so bad i thought if i tried and y-you didn't want me back it would just be an easily brushed off m-misunderstanding.” hyunjin whined, his hands balled up into fists, knuckles white.
“y/n suck him dry. now.” chan ordered and you sucked harder pulling a squeal out of hyunjin. “go on sweet boy. go ahead and cum. you earned it.” chan encouraged as he delivered a heavy smack to your ass. your muffled yelp was the final straw and hyunjin came hard into your mouth, his body attempting to lurch off the bed. you swallowed everything down and pulled off of him, replacing your mouth with your hand. as chan continued to ram into you, you mirrored his thrusts with the fist wrapped tightly around hyunjin's still hard cock.
“stop stop stop please! god please i can- i can't take it! it's too sensitive please!” hyunjin cried. “yes you can baby. you can take it. trust me.” chan cooed. feeling bold you leaned forward once again and sucked hyunjin's tip harshly while lashing the tip of your tongue over his slit.
“FUCK! no no no no it's too m- too much. stop stop stop!” hyunjin continued to wail. he was begging you to relent but he also didn't use his safeword so you knew he didnt really want it to stop. the sound was like music to chan's ears and the rhythmic clenching of your cunt around him propelled him quickly toward his own orgasm.
“i'm gonna cum in you okay baby? gonna breed this pretty pussy, stuff it full of my cum. that what you want? yeah it is isn't it?” chan rambled and you moaned out a “yes please daddy” right before he exploded inside you. your hand around hyunjin never stopped moving and he was crying now. big fat tears rolling down his cheeks from the overstimulation.
chan pulled out of you and watched your hole flutter, pushing out his seed. he murmured a string of praises as he watched the glistening fluid drip out of you. you looked over your shoulder at him, jutting your lower lip out.
“daddy i didn't get to cum yet. can i?” you asked.
“go ahead baby. make yourself cum.” chan said with a wave of his hand and an evil grin etched on his face. you grinned right back before scrambling up hyunjin's body and straddling him.
“wh-what are you doing? oh...oh no. no no no. please it's so sensitive it's so so sensitive y/n i can't!” hyunjin hiccuped, tears still flowing. you leaned forward and ran your tongue up his cheek, lapping up the briny liquid seeping from his eyes. then you whispered “oh jinnie, don't you want me to feel good too? i worked so hard after all.” you reached behind you and positioned his tip at your entrance before effortlessly sliding down onto him. you moaned as he filled you and he once again thrashed against the ropes wrapped around him. you started to ride him in earnest, aching for your own release at this point. the man beneath you was mumbling incoherently about how good your pussy feels and how badly he wants to come again. chan sauntered over and perched next to hyunjin again, reaching out to pet his head and pepper his face with kisses.
“i’m gonna cum, fuck i'm gonna cum!” you cried as you worked yourself over hyunjin’s dick and used one hand to furiously rub your clit.
“daddy shes squeezing me so hard i don't think i ca- can get out. can i cum inside?” hyunjin pleaded with chan. “of course you can baby, right sweetheart? you want jinnie’s cum inside you don't you?” you just nodded in response. “my girl loves to be creampied you never have to ask. just go ahead baby boy.” chan explained. you drove yourself down onto hyunjin twice more and then you were cumming, mouth dropping open as your inner walls milked him for all he was worth. hyunjin spasmed beneath you as he came and came and came inside you. he wasn't speaking anymore, just making these stunted little sounds as his body shook with the aftershocks of his second orgasm.
chan had begun to untie the ropes as you slowly lifted yourself off of hyunjin. you whispered praise to him as he has hummed, completely fucked out and boneless beneath you.
“shhh it's okay sweetheart. you did so good for us baby. we’re gonna put you to bed now okay?” chan murmured to the man shaking in the bed. hyunjin managed to croak out an “uh-huh” in response. you grabbed a bottle of lotion from nearby and began to work it into the reddened skin all over him where the ropes had been, while chan wiped down hyunjin's groin with a warm cloth. you hummed a tune you knew hyunjin loved and his eyes fluttered shut, a tiny smile making its way to his face.
after everything was put away and the room was right again, chan crawled into the bed to spoon hyunjin’s half asleep form while you crawled in the other side to press yourself to hyunjin's still somewhat heaving chest. you pulled the blanket up high and tucked yourself into his warm skin and he wound an arm around your waist. chan's hand rested on hyunjin's hip, squeezing the flesh there every so often.
being here felt so right, so natural, so easy. loving these two was as easy as breathing. you couldn't believe it had taken this long to get here but now that you had, you weren't letting them go. before your eyes fell closed you heard the sound of chan's lips kissing along hyunjin's shoulder before he whispered “rest now my loves. because i have big plans for you tomorrow.”
THE END
#jd's archive#bang chan smut#hyunjin smut#bang chan fanfic#hyunjin fanfic#bang chan fanfiction#hyunjin fanfiction#bang chan x reader#hyunjin x reader#chan x reader#chan fanfic#chan fic#chan smut#stray kids#stray kids smut#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz smut#stray kids fanfic#skz x reader#skz imagines#skz hyunjin#skz fic
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Hello Mr. Gaiman, hope this ask finds you in good health, I really need your help.
I’m a law student and currently taking a course on Law and Literature, brilliant by the way. We were given the freedom to chose a theme of our preference on the way law is represented through literature, and I thought Good Omens was the perfect subject for me.
I was interested in focusing on a faulty, inflexible system, especially one heavily influenced (in this case entirely made up) by ‘canon law’ and the way it influences social spheres. The incoherent dichotomy of moral good and bad, the way they influence ethical right and wrong translated into law.
What I was interested in is whether the legal system of Good Omens is based on positive legislation, or more on a customary, spiritual one. The reason why the question arose is the specific scene of ‘The Clue’, where Aziraphale openly ‘acts against the will of God’, and is convinced he will be brought to hell by Crowley. This is interesting to me, because in response he just says that he wouldn’t tell on him, and that was that.
Does that scene mean that angel status is not based on a spiritual(literal sense) monitoring of the soul, but rather about obeying statute and the way it is institutionally evaluated? Is there a set legislation, would it be God’s will? For that reason, would it be ineffable?
I feel like the fact that God is supposed to be omniscient would kind of undermine that theory, but nonetheless I wonder. I suppose that what I’m pleadingly asking for is some insight on the legal frame you maybe pictured for the Up and the Down (do they follow the same general legislation? Is it about legal pluralism? Are they monitored? Is it about lack of sufficient number of managers or oversaturated personnel?).
Pretty please,
A very desperate uni student
P.S. I’m very sorry about the length, I’m not good at summarizing things that I really enjoy. Also sorry for possible writing errors, English is not my first language. (If you see this more than once, sorry. As we’ve already established, I’m a little desperate)
I love these questions. Honestly, I don't think the Good Omens Heaven/Hell system is codified enough for me answer, other than to say both sides are very big on rules and have codes and agreements (see Crowley bluffing in the bookshop) and whatever you put in your essay I promise I will never turn up and maintain that you were wrong.
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okay, is it just me or is a hellhound reader x velvette a really good idea? like- her guard dog who she messes with and pokes fun with- I've been toying with that but with a butch reader too AUGH
a/n — OH MY GOD. You’re a genius.
I don’t know if you intended this but—
Velvette x Hellhound!Bodygaurd!Reader
You know she would be all over her hellhound bodyguard in a way that’s so not subtle. She’d be touching you shoulder, chest, fingers grazing a little to close your hands.
Of course, if you ever called her out on this, she’s denying immediately. But in a way that drives you absolutely crazy.
“Someone’s got an active imagination.” “Darling please, if I was flirting you’d know.”
But then she’d wink and giggle, leaving you to wonder if that was flirting or not.
The butch reader part you mentioned is interesting to me because I actually think she’d find more masculine woman very hot.
Like yes, she loves femmes because she gets to do their hair and makeup and their nails, etc! But also I think she has a soft spot for butches.
Especially if you’re strong too. Fuck, she’d find that so hot.
Like constantly slyly squeezing your muscles when greeting you. Oh, but what do you mean? She’s not flirting.
But she so is. In fact, she’s taunting you, egging you on, daring you to do anything about it.
And it adds to the appeal to her that you’re a hellhound. The idea of that kind of scandal is everything to her; an overlord and her hellhound.
She plays with fire by doing her ‘subtle’ flirting in public, just to see if anyone talks about it online. She would love that kind of attention.
If her evil plan is a success, she’ll up the stakes a little bit. Almost full-on clinging to your arm, squeezing close to you while walking.
Vox might even have to half a talk with her about ‘image’ and what-not. Of course, she wouldn’t take it seriously. After all, what’d she have to worry about? Nothing was actually happening.
God forbid she suggests you go out to eat. Watch the internet blow up with theories about you two dating.
So once again, you’d ask her what the fuck she thinks she’s doing and if she’s into you. You receive a simple, yet sinister reply.
“Oh darling, don’t you wish.”
So with that, you accept your dynamic; Velvette teases you obnoxiously, and you don’t put up with her shit.
Maybe in the end you start playing into it a little. Of course in your own guard dog kind of way. Maybe you throw your coat over a puddle for her to walk on.
Fuck it, actually just pick her up and carry her across.
She’d laugh and make a comment about how you’re “ruining her image” as if she hasn’t been since the second she saw you.
Now, after a while, feelings for each other would be a little hard to deny.
Still though, the dynamic wouldn’t change. Velvette pokes fun at you, flirts a little, and you tell her to knock it off.
Until you flirt back. Maybe she tells you to do something and condescendingly calls you ‘good dog.’
“You should watch what you say, princess,” and you get really close to her.
See, usually you don’t flirt back. But this was so clearly flirting that Velvette actually blushes.
Dear god, after that, the next time you flirt is the breaking point. She’d pull you down by your shirt collar and kiss you roughly.
Velvette would push you down on the nearest surface and not hesitate to sit on your lap. Of course, you’d wrap your arms around her and rest your hands on the small of her back, pulling her in.
Needless to say, leading to probably the hottest make out session of Velvettes time in hell.
And so starts the casual, incredibly hot, workplace affair with her hellhound.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel velvette#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel fluff#hazbin velvette#velvette x reader
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from a non-academic, i find parts of comphet to be useful (heterosexuality becomes compulsory when you’re raised in a heterosexual society) but the foundations . suck. what do we do with theories like this, that have touched on a truth but also carry a lot of garbage? can we separate the truth from the founder?
i have to be slightly pedantic and say that i don't think rich's essay is an example of this phenomenon. my central issue with her formulation is its bioessentialist assumptions about human sex and therefore also sexuality. if i say "capitalism includes economic mechanisms that enforce heterosexual behaviour and exclude other possibilities", then what i mean by "heterosexual" is plainly not the same as what rich means—and for this reason i would seldom formulate the statement this way, without clarifying that i am talking about the enforcement of heterosexuality as a part of the creation and defence of sex/gender categories themselves. so rich and i do not actually agree on the very fundamental premises of this paper! rich was not the first or only person to point out that economic mechanisms as well as resultant social norms enforce heterosexual pairings; i actually don't even think the essay does a very clear job of interrogating the relationship between labour, economy, and the creation of sex/gender; she means something different and essentialist to what i mean by sex and sexuality; and i think her proposed responses to the phenomenon she identifies as 'compulsory heterosexuality' are uninteresting because they mainly propose psychological answers to a problem arising from conditions of political economy. so, in regards to this specific paper, i am actually totally comfortable just saying that it's not a useful formulation, and i don't feel a need to rescue elements of it.
in general, i do know what you're talking about, and i think there's a false dichotomy here: as though we must either discard an idea entirely if it has elements we dislike, or we accept it on the condition that we can plausibly claim these elements and their author are irrelevant. these are not comprehensive options. instead, i would posit that every theory, hypothesis, or idea is laden with context, including values held and assumptions made by their progenitors. the point is not to find a mythical 'objective' truth unburdened by human bias or mistakes; this is impossible. instead, i think we need to take seriously the elements of an idea that we object to. why are they there? what sorts of assumptions or arguments motivate them, and are those actually separable from whatever we like in the idea? if so, can we be clear about which aspects of the theory are still useful or applicable, and where it is that the objectionable elements arise? and if we can identify these points, then what might we propose instead? this is all much more useful, imo, than either waiting for a perfect morally unimpeachable theory or trying to 'accept' a theory without grappling with its origins (political, social, intellectual).
a recent example that you might find interesting as a kind of case study is j lorand matory's book the fetish revisited, which argues that the 'fetish' concept in freud's and marx's work drew from their respective understandings of afro-atlantic gods. in other words, when marx said capitalists "fetishise" commodities or freud spoke about sexual "fetishism", they were each claiming that viewing an object as agentive, meaning-laden in itself (ie, devoid of the context of human meaning-making as a social and political activity) was comparable to 'primitive' and delusory religious practices.
matory's point here isn't that we should reject marx's entire contribution to political economy because he was racist, nor is it that we can somehow accept parts of what marx said by just excising any racist bits. rather, matory asks us to grapple seriously with the role that marx's anthropologically inflected racism plays in his ideas, and what limitations it imposes on them. why is it that marx could identify the commodity as being discursively abstracted and 'fetishised', but did not apply this understanding to other ideas and objects in a consistent way? and how is his understanding of this process of 'fetishisation' shaped by his beliefs about afro-atlantic peoples, and their 'intelligence' or civilisational achievements in comparison to northwestern europeans'? by this critique matory is able to nuance the fetish concept, and to argue that marx's formulation of it was both reductive and inconsistently applied (analogously to how freud viewed only some sexuality as 'fetishistic'). it is true in some sense that capital and the commodity are reified and abstracted in a manner comparable to the creation of a metaphysical entity, but what we get from matory is both a better, more nuanced understanding of this process of meaning-making (incl. a challenge to the racist idea of afro-atlantic gods as simply a result of inferior intelligence or cultural development), and the critical point that if this is fetishism, then we must understand a lot more human discourse and activity as hinging on fetishisation.
the answer of what we do with the shitty or poorly formulated parts of a theory won't always be the same, obviously; this is a dialogue we probably need to have (and then have again) every time we evaluate an idea or theory. but i hope this gives you some jumping-off points to consider, and an idea of what it might look like to grapple with ideas as things inherently shaped by people—and our biases and assumptions and failings—without assuming that means we can or should just discard them any time those failings show through. the point is not to waste time trying to find something objective, but to understand the subjective in its context and with its strengths and limitations, and then to decide from there what use we can or should make of it.
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fries
carmen berzatto x reader | 1.1k
prompt was: Carmy getting all sassy and dom like bc his girl spent money on herself instead of using his card/calling him and telling him that you wanted something and to pick it up off hold on his way home!! That is such a HC for me I feel Carmy would be super pouty if his girl bought something expensive or ‘necessary for him’ like your makeup, hair stuff, clothes, shoes, etc. ESP food he like gets so upset when she will pick herself up McDonald’s or smth and is like “baby why didn’t you tell me you were craving a burger and fries” - as requested by @thecapricunt1616 thank you so much, i hope you enjoy 🌼
🐻
Sometimes you think you know everything about your boyfriend. If someone quizzed you, you would ace it. It's only been just under a year since you started dating Carmy but in that time you had learned everything about him, or so you thought.
There were things that you didn't know every detail about, like his family, particularly his mom, but you knew that he would talk about those things in time, when he was ready.
What you didn't expect was that he would have a certain..kink, one you wouldn't have expected him to have but was a very pleasant surprise.
It had happened incrementally, you first noticed when you came home after work one day with a pair of new sneakers. When you showed them to Carm he seemed a little..off. It wasn't exactly something to celebrate but you found it a little odd that he didn't seem to care when usually he was so attentive and loving.
You put it down to a long day at work and forgot about it.
Until it happened again, when you came home after a splurge on makeup and skincare products. He found you putting them away in the bathroom and just walked away, leaving you deeply confused.
When you asked him if everything was okay he said it was, and you decided not to push it. You noticed that he was a little more attentive than usual, keeping you in his lap while you relaxed on the couch, insisted on getting you whatever you wanted, carried you to bed when you started falling asleep. It wasn't that he never did those things usually, you just felt like he was doing more somehow.
Deciding to test out the beginnings of a theory, you waited a week or so before deciding to really treat yourself, splashing out on a pair of expensive heels that you had wanted for so long. As you were the first one home, you put the shoes away and waited for Carmy to get home.
He was his usual sweet self, and you were a little excited to test out your theory. You waited until Carm was making dinner, and you were sitting on the counter watching him.
“Oh my god, I have to show you something,” You smiled, getting down from the counter. “I'll be right back.”
You went to your bedroom, opening the closet and reaching into the back to take out the bag with your new shoes before carrying it to the kitchen behind your back.
“Look what I got,” You grinned, holding out the bag. “I may have gone a little overboard but I really wanted these.”
You set the bag down on the ground and took the box out, feeling Carmy's eyes on you.
“How beautiful are these?” You opened the box and took out one of the shoes. “They were almost three hundred but I figure I'll keep them forever so..”
“Three hundred?” Carm raised a brow, his hand on his hip. “You spent three hundred?”
“Yes, I did,” You smiled, feeling like your theory was about to be proved. You looked at the shoe in your hand, turning it slowly. “But work is going well and I really wanted them so..”
“You shouldn't have bought them,” Carm sighed, reaching for the dish towel that was draped over his shoulder and wiping his hands. “That's too much.”
“I'll buy what I want,” You frowned, putting the shoe back in the box. “It's my money I'm spending, not yours.”
“But it should be.” Carmy muttered, meeting your eyes.
“What do you mean?” You asked, stepping closer to him and setting the box in your hands down on the counter. “I don't expect you to drop that kind of money on me.”
“I want to,” Carmy insisted, his arm moving around your waist. “I know that you can afford all those things you want, but..I want to treat you, I want you to tell me what you want and let me get if for you, or take my card and go get it.”
“Please don't feel like you have to do that,” You smiled, touching Carmy's cheek. “I don't care if you buy me things or I buy them myself, just being with you is all I want.”
Carm was quiet for a moment, gently stroking your waist before leaning in to kiss you, your arms moving around his neck.
“It's more than that,” Carm murmured softly against your lips, pulling back to meet your eyes. “I know you don't expect me to, and I know I don't have to but..the thought of seeing you in clothes that I bought you, knowing you're out treating yourself to things and using my money to do it..I want that.”
You take in his words, your hands lightly touching the back of Carm's neck. “Does it..does the thought of that do it for you?”
“Big time,” Carm nodded, and you felt your heart race. “I keep thinking about you coming home, showing off all the things you bought on my card, giving me a little show..”
“I think I know what I should buy first then.” You grinned, leaning in to kiss Carm.
Dinner is delayed, and you don't quite make it to the bedroom, but you feel like you've never been happier.
As it turned out, Carm wasn't lying about wanting you to spend his money. You didn't go crazy, you weren't going to buy something just for the sake of it. But when you came home with a bag full of new lingerie and handed his card back to him, Carm had you screaming like you never had before.
So, once a week or so you treat yourself to a little something, just to bring out a more possessive, dominant side of your boyfriend, loving how he can go from adorable and soft to calling you a spoiled brat and having you begging for more.
And apparently, his fondness for you spending his money wasn't limited to clothes, shoes and underwear, but there was one exception.
You had come home from work with a McDonald's, knowing Carmy would be home late and that you weren't in the mood to cook. You were just sitting down to eat it, scrolling through your phone when the front door opened.
“Hey,” You smiled, picking Carmy's card up from the table and taking a sip of your milkshake as you handed it to him.
“What's this?” Carm frowned, pointing to the food on the table.
“This?” You grinned, pointing to the McDonald's bag. “Just a little restaurant, you've probably never heard of it, it's only got like a billion locations.”
“Very funny,” Carm sighed, pushing his hand through his hair.
“Are you..pouting?” You grinned. “Over a burger?”
“I could have made you a better burger,” Camy shrugged. “That's all.”
“I know,” You nodded, swishing your shake with a grin. “But only your money can get this.”
“You think I can't make you a milkshake?” Carmy raised a brow.
“Not like this,” You teased. “You don't know the secret ingredients.”
“I'm making you a damn shake. And a burger."
#the bear#the bear 🐻#the bear fic#the bear fics#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x you#carmen berzatto x you#request
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nct are such fraternity boy college athletes fuckboys coded it's insane !! everyone i see a video of those men with the homosexual tendencies, vaping addiction, and their athletic garments, it really only cements this theory. their disography and music videos add to this too 😔✋ u know 90's love, universe (let's play ball), alley oop, bad alive eng ver.
can imagine them walking around this elite prestigious campus all loud and obnoxious. they know everyone is looking at them and want to fuck them too. they're chronic drinkers, vapers, cheaters, fuckboys. what would get most students expelled, they do on a tuesday afternoon.
nct are mostly made up of foreigners right? watch them walk around the campus as rich international students, some are here on academic or athletic scholarships they don't need. everything they own is designer. playing the 'sorry my korean isn't so good, can you help me?' card, and what they want help with is you sucking their dick.
the korean members aren't any better. they're every single horrible stereotype you hear of korean hongdae fuckboys. will come up to you all sweet and pretty, but they're horrid.
cw for under the cut: they are toxic males
can literally imagine haechan vaping on the college campus, moaning in the back of the class obnoxiously, and pulling the thing where he jokingly asks for your number ALL THE TIME. going to college parties and getting wasted after 3 drinks idk 🤷 ,,, he'd be so whiny and teasing too. bc obviously he's a rude BITCH but he's so pretty and whiny and flirtatious. he's fucking everything in sight, absolute whore!! his body count is triple his age. he'd genuinely try to suck one of his friends' dick and claim it doesn't mean anything because he has clothes on !! 😔✋ he'd be stroking his dick while you're in the room, whimpering your name. the type to get on his knees and beg for any kind of attention from you..
mark lee starting off being a cute college boy canadian transfer but becomes the NOTORIOUS korean pastor's son fuckboy in like the span of 3 months. he'll act real nice, and that's because he is real nice. being super sweet and asking if you want to get coffee with him and study. and he's so good with his words you'll think that's all it is. but then of course, since he's so good with his words he'll have you blushing and giggling as he takes you back to his apartment and gets your clothes off. talking yapping so much you don't even realise what he has you doing, that you're just another girl he's pulled. he'll still be whispering when his face is in your pussy. telling you how easily you cum. "dang girl, wait a lil' can't you?" implying you're the whore,
YUTA yuta is the entire campus crush. the star football ⚽️ player and the rockstar vocalist in a band. has sex with all the groupies that come to his concerts. he's dragging people up on stage to shotgun them while the guitar break plays. absolute heartbreaker. would definitely kick the ball to your head so that when it hits you, he has to go over check if you're alright, take you up to the nurse and wait with you. he is such a liar, it genuinely hurts. lying all the time and making up words and stories left and right. but he smells like cherries and watery perfume !! he tastes like it too. you'll be coming to all his garage concerts just to see if you'll be the one he takes backstage to fuck after. he's like a god, half the time you don't even realise he's a student like the rest of you. he's just an angel sent to have fun and fuck or smth.
jaemin nah he's horrid. he'll cheat on you, and with his cute smile you'll forgive him instantly. 😔✋ he'll spend a little cash dress you in designer, make you cum until you faint, and tell you how beautiful and perfect you are for him. he will genuinely have you thinking those girls meant nothing to him, theyre just a way to vent his stress and you're the only one he loves. and then bro will say he can't stay the night, as he needs to wake up early for training. you agree, obviously. and he left for another girl's house to fuck her too. when you met him he smelled so sweet, and it was someone else's perfume. each of his girls swear they're his favourite of his, and one day he's planning fucking them all in the same room.
JOHNNY SUH? he would abuse the american transfer student status. he walks around without a shirt, soaking wet, and never get pulled up. he's rich too, got bands on his wrist and multiple cars. going on holidays overseas every chance he get and hosting parties every weekend. when you get drunk at one of them, almost falling off the balcony, someone will come up and help you to a chair. he'll take real good care of you, going above and beyond. so you can't let this guy leave when he's everything you've ever wanted. so you pull yourself onto him and ride him while the party rages on inside. make sure his dick feels so good he'll ask for your number. but you don't know that you're the fifth girl who's thrown herself at him that night.
taeyongie ^-^
he's the prettiest guy you've ever seen. bros too sweet and shy to be handing out with the rest of the neo WHORES. he's the leader of a lot of clubs but he mainly sits in cute little cafes. genuinely he seemed too adorable? to be considered the 'leader' of some horrific ahh fuckboys. until you check twitter and you see someone's reposted his MANY MULTIPLE HE HAS A LOT sex tapes. he's surrounded by ridiculously hot guys and girls, and they're passing him around like a joint, and he's begging to be humiliated. they're making him cum so much he crying. he's stronger than most of them but he's letting himself be thrown around like a doll. absolutely wrecked. looking in the camera with pretty black eyes and a slurred voice before someone shoves a cock back in this throat "am i pretty?"
zhong chenle is the epitome of the chinese international student stereotype. he's almost never there, never takes off his sunglasses. he has several of those douyin type baddies trailing after him. "you have nice collarbones and pretty eyes, i like. what's your instagram?"
he'll be talking with his friend renjun about what yacht he should buy during class. he can buy your affection simply because he's just that rich. will shove his black card down his pants and tell you there's only one way to get it. buys rolex watches so that he can have it on while he fingers you. dresses you in diamonds and he doesn't want to be paid back in cash.
qian kun is there on an academic scholarship, but he doesn't need it. he's just that good, the school begs to have him attend. he's not a fuckboy in the conventional sense but he's just as nasty. he wants to have the perfect girl for him, to bring back to his family. he'll look for the most naive but academic girl he can. he's a manipulator. he's trying to mold you into what he wants. he'll replace your entire wardrobe with designer, but he picked out all the clothes. he'll plan cute dates for you every day, but it's to stop you from hanging out with your skanky friends. he'll buy you a new phone, but he's already added software tech to spy on you. in some essences, even though he's not a fuckboy, he's much worse than one.
jisung, like taeyong, looks so sweet. but he's NASTY. he'll seem too quiet to be hanging out with the rest of the dreamie WHORES. so you don't mind sitting next to him in your lecture. but he's just a mix of all of dream. he's good with his words like mark, and he'll have you agreeing to meet at his place EASY. he's too cute to refuse like haechan and jaemin. and then the renjun part hits, silent and sneaky, he'll be doing everything to make you think you're coming on to him. once he finally has you, he'll make a mess of you like a feral animal, the way you've heard jeno fucks. and you realise he's just like the rest of the dreamies, you shouldn't have thought otherwise.
he might actually be worse than all of them.
tell me if u want me to make these like a full post or add more characters IM SO CRAZY DELULU RN SORRY xx !! 💋
#nct smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut#wayv smut#haechan smut#donghyuck smut#mark lee smut#yuta nakamoto smut#jaemin smut#johnny suh smut#taeyong smut#chenle smut#kun smut
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his favorite girl, part i
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: joel agrees to teach you how to play guitar for a college course, but you can't keep your eyes off him long enough to learn. he really likes that.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, guitar teacher!joel, no outbreak, big age gap (reader’s 22, joel’s 56), slow-burn, sexual tension, finger kink, slight dubcon, touching, smut for later chapters, some fluff, mostly angst
word count: 3.3k
a/n: my first chaptered fic! dedicated to joel's fingers! i've been playing guitar a lot more lately so...yeah 🥲 thinking this'll probably be 3 or 4 chapters? as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated! hope y'all enjoyy
Don’t stare at his fingers. Don’t stare at his fingers. He’s doing you a huge favor by teaching you to play guitar in the first place. The least you can do is pay attention and stop staring at his fingers.
But it’s a lost cause, and you know it, because you’d have no hope of learning without staring at his fingers.
Even so, you’re convinced he’ll somehow know that’s not the real reason you’re watching them so intently. The way they hop gracefully from fret to fret, strings biting into his well-earned calluses, producing the most beautiful chords that ring out perfectly with every strum.
It’s a wonder any of that is even possible for him. You don’t mean to knock his talent—he obviously honed his craft through decades of fine-tuning and dedicated practice—but his fingers are just so thick.
With your clumsy, beginner’s touch, you’re constantly fumbling with the strings, unable to press down hard enough or keep your other fingers out of the way for them to vibrate the way they need to. They just sort of…fizzle.
But there’s a finesse to how he plays. It also helps that his guitar is a lot bigger than yours. It's a totally innocuous thought, but it still warms your cheeks a little. A big guitar for a big man. Broad and tall, with those thick, thick fingers—
“Hey, you still with me?”
You’re not sure when he stopped playing, but you really hope it was right before he said something. Otherwise, he definitely knows exactly what you were thinking about, and that would be humiliating.
Not a great start to your first guitar lesson, but how were you supposed to know your teacher was going to look like that? When your music theory professor recommended him, he conveniently left that part out, which, whatever, makes sense. But it still would’ve been helpful to know ahead of time.
Joel Miller. 56 years old. Has a ton of experience and takes on very few students, so you should consider yourself lucky. That’s all of the information you were given before you stepped into his house this afternoon, and were greeted by possibly the hottest man you’ve ever seen. He was supposed to be your ticket to an A on your senior thesis. But you’re totally flubbing it.
“Y-yeah, sorry, just got a little distracted,” you laugh awkwardly, wishing you had said anything else but that. You couldn't be any more obvious if you tried. “Won’t happen again, promise.”
He’s kind enough to pretend you’re not a filthy liar and taps the neck of his guitar to redirect your focus. “S’alright. We’ll just take it from the top. You remember the fingerin' for the first chord?”
You gape at him dumbly for a second. He’s kidding, right? You might as well leave now if he’s going to keep saying fingering with that devastating Southern drawl of his.
“Um, yeah, I think so,” you sputter, lying for the second time in a row. You're struggling to recall anything from your lesson but, god, you can only remember his fingers, not their placement. With no confidence whatsoever, you press your fingertips down firmly on the three strings you think he showed you. “Here, right?”
He quirks a brow. “You askin’ me or tellin’ me?”
Ah, so he’s that kind of teacher. The 'learn the hard way', 'fail on your own until you succeed' type. Well, he’s about to learn that you’re not that kind of student.
“…Telling?” Your voice lilts with even less confidence. He chuckles, nodding at your finger placement.
“Let’s hear it, then,” he says expectantly, the slightest hint of a smile on his face. You can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but you’re about to find out. You strum slowly, and the sound reverberates around the room.
Wrong.
His smile widens just a fraction as you grimace, quickly wrapping your hand around the neck of the guitar to stop the horrible noises still playing from it. You look over at him, wincing, but he doesn’t seem frustrated. If anything, he seems patient.
“Not quite,” he shakes his head, moving his instrument out of his lap so he can shift closer to where you’re sitting further down the couch. The cushion dips with his weight, and you tip into him slightly, but he remains completely unfazed. “Lemme show you again—and pay attention this time, alright?”
You start to nod apologetically, but then he throws an arm behind you on the back of the couch, and all hope of retaining whatever he’s about to teach you goes out the window. Instead of showing you on his own guitar, he gestures for you to hold yours up, gently arranging your fingers on the frets.
His fingertips whisper against yours like he’s hesitant to touch you, softly tugging them into place before pressing down, showing you the right amount of pressure to apply.
They feel just as warm and rough as you’d imagined, dwarfing yours by a long shot, and the realization makes your fingers accidentally twitch out of place. Your eyes dart up to gauge his reaction and lock with his, deep and brown, and very amused.
“Doin’ alright there?” he teases, and now you know he’s on to you. You try to play it off, blaming it on your inexperience.
“Just haven't gotten used to using those muscles yet," you mumble, moving your hand away from his to flex your fingers. "Not sure I've ever had to stretch them like that before."
"'m sure ya have. Probably just didn't realize it at the time. That kinda muscle soreness comes from prolonged repetition—repeatin' an action over 'n over," he explains in that syrupy-sweet accent, completely unaware of how his words are affecting you. "Bet ya use those fingers for a lot'a different things every day, just nothin' long or strenuous enough to leave you achin'."
You bite your lip to keep from reacting. He has to know what he's doing right now. How he sounds. This conversation is starting to veer into dangerous territory, but the weird thing about it is that he genuinely doesn't seem to realize that everything he's saying has a double meaning. To you, at least. You knew all this fingering talk was going to get you into trouble.
"Uhh, yeah," you agree, side-stepping that line of thought to bring yourself back to the lesson, but it's getting harder to stay focused. "I guess I just thought playing would mostly be memorization, but there's a lot of physicality to it, too, huh?"
"Yeah, s'pose that's true," he muses, looking down at the calluses on his own hand. This time you refuse to take the bait, your breathing already too shallow, heart nearly pounding out of your chest with how close he's sitting. But he’s still completely calm and collected. "Your hand hurtin' a lot right now?"
You shrug, inspecting your reddening fingertips. "Kinda, yeah."
"It's like that in the beginnin’," he says kindly. "But the more ya play, the tougher the skin gets, and ya won't feel it as much."
He surprises you by taking your hand again, massaging the tender skin between his thumb and index fingers. God, that feels so much better already. The heat of his fingertips seeps into yours, soothing the painful indents left by the unforgiving strings, and you let out a breathy sigh of relief.
You feel his entire body tense palpably next to you. It might be your imagination or just wishful thinking, but you swear you can feel his warmth radiating into your side, somehow even closer than before. Your brain’s starting to fizzle more than the sound of your shitty guitar playing, and the room feels a little hotter. Hazier, like a daydream.
"That feel good?" he murmurs, lips practically brushing the shell of your ear.
Definitely closer.
“Y-yeah, feels nice…really nice,” you stutter, voice lowering almost to a whisper as if you were sharing a secret. “The, um—the rest of my hand is a little sore, too. Is that normal?”
You can feel him grinning at your obvious attempt to get him to keep touching you, and he gives in easily. Surprisingly so, and it's becoming clearer that he's as into whatever's happening right now as you are. You’re not sure what happened to the unfazed man from before, but you’ll happily welcome this change in demeanor.
“Yeah, s’normal,” he trails down to your palm, engulfing your hand with his own. “Don’t worry, I'll take care of ya.”
Your eyes flutter closed as his thigh presses into yours, and the arm behind you lowers around your shoulders, his hand skimming the side of your neck. Shit, what is going on? You’re pretty sure guitar lessons don’t usually go like this, but you can’t bring yourself to dwell on it. Not when he feels this good.
Everywhere his skin touches yours feels electric, sending jolts up your spine, and making you forget where you are and what you were doing in the first place. He ducks down to press his lips to your bare shoulder, and your mind goes completely blank.
All that's left is...sensation. Something dragging roughly across your skin, then soft—a little chapped—and wet. Sharp. You're abruptly aware of him sucking a hard bruise at the crook of your neck, soothing the sting with his tongue, and you're unable to stop the whimper that escapes your lips. It's soft and inappropriate. A single, hushed syllable.
"Joel."
He lets out a pained groan that rumbles from deep within his chest, and the hand around yours tenses. That boundless patience he had earlier feels like it's about to run out, and the thought makes your blood run hot.
God, how is he real? How is this real? You just met this man—this much, much older man—less than an hour ago, and, yet, this is probably the hottest thing that’s ever happened to you. He continues to mouth up your neck, nipping at the underside of your jaw.
"What else hurts? Tell me, 'n I'll make it better," he mutters humidly, urgently against your skin.
You want to tell him where it hurts the most. That unbearable ache between your legs, the burning in your belly that you didn't even realize he was stoking. But you're so wound up, all you can manage is a frustrated sob.
"Use your words, beautiful. C'mon, lemme hear 'em," he says as if you're his instrument, meant to produce dulcet tones and resonate at his hand.
"It—fuck...it—here," you drag the hand clutching yours down, next to where the body of your guitar rests on your thigh. Where you've already soaked through the thin fabric of your pants. "Joel...need you to make it better."
The gentle vibrato of your voice, the way it shakes tumultuously around his name, and even more so when he cups your heat. His lips return to your throat to feel it, to taste it as you moan for him. And those fingers. You knew they’d feel good, and they’re so close to where you need them. Just a little bit more—but there’s still too many layers between you and his rough touch.
“M-more…need more, just—,” you whine, and he mirrors the sound back at you raggedly.
“‘Course, beautiful. Told you I’d take care of ya, didn’t I?
You're too far gone to even notice yourself desperately grinding into the palm of his hand, or the fingers at your cheek turning your face toward his.
Or your guitar quickly slipping out of your lap, more and more with each swivel of your hips. It hits the carpet with a hollow clang and, suddenly, the spell is broken. Then, it all comes crashing back.
He’s saying your name, but he sounds...different. Less breathy, less needy, and more like your patient, collected guitar teacher. Joel Miller. 56 years old, remember? Way too old for you, for your body to be reacting to him like this, and the man whose help you still desperately need to help complete your thesis.
Your eyes snap open and you realize with abject horror that you’ve been daydreaming this entire time. You can’t even imagine how long he’s been trying to get your attention while you’ve just been sitting here, fantasizing about his hands on you.
Not even ten minutes ago, you promised you wouldn’t get distracted, but you did. Again. And so much worse this time.
By his furrowed brow and the way he won’t even look at you, you must have accidentally said something out loud, too. Something totally inappropriate that you really shouldn’t have. But then, his hand twitches and your blood turns to ice.
That—fuck, that's not where it was before you zoned out. It was still on yours, arranging your fingers on the frets for the chord he was teaching you. He…he was asking about your hand, if it hurt, and then—
As if you’ve been burned, you quickly release his hand from where you’re clutching it between your legs—not just in your daydream, but in horrifying actuality. You’re screwed.
Not only is he probably going to kick you out of his house and refuse to be your teacher anymore, but he’ll likely tell your professor. And he’d have every right to. There’s no way you’ll be able to get anyone else to teach you after this.
The reason you’re here, everything you’ve worked so hard for, flashes before your eyes, catching fire and turning to ash. Your love for music, your degree—in the span of a single guitar lesson, you destroyed all of it.
And what would he think? Your father, your inspiration for choosing this path. He’d be so disappointed in you, though maybe not as much as you are right now.
All of this for what? The attractive, middle-aged guitar teacher you’ve known for less than an hour? He doesn’t even want you and, even if he did, that’s not what you came here for. Stupid, stupid.
You can feel his eyes on you, but you can’t bear to look at him, to say anything at all. Instead, you lean down to retrieve your guitar from where it still lies face down on the floor, and slowly stand up.
“I, uh…,” you croak out, fighting the urge to cry and look like even more of an idiot. You shake your head, unable to finish your sentence, and start to walk away, but then something miraculous happens.
Joel’s hand shoots out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist to keep you from leaving. You turn back to him, eyebrows raised in shock, dropping your gaze to where his skin is touching yours. He doesn't let go.
“Look—,” he starts, and you wince. It’s never a good sign when someone starts a sentence like that. If all he’s trying to do is let you down easy, he shouldn’t have stopped you. He’s just shaming you even further. “—‘m not too sure what just happened here, but if you just—if ya sit back down, we can talk about it or…just keep goin’ with the lesson…”
You didn’t see that one coming.
“You want me to stay?” you ask dubiously. “Why?”
You search his eyes for the answers to all of the things you’re not understanding, but come up with nothing. He’s sitting on the couch watching you, still holding your hand like nothing’s wrong. Acting like none of this is a big deal, as if you didn’t basically just shove his hand down your pants without his consent.
“Still got a lot to teach ya. We didn’t even get through the first line of music,” he chuckles, his voice filled with such kindness. So much more than you deserve.
“Yeah, and that’s my fault. I—,” you pause, still trying to gather your thoughts, “—I crossed a line…made you uncomfortable. You really don’t have to do this.”
He sighs, rubbing his thumb soothingly into your wrist, and the gesture makes you shiver. Somehow it’s calming, even as the gears continue to turn in your head. You still can’t seem to grasp any of this or shake the feeling that there’s something wrong with this picture.
“Well, isn’t this supposed to be a favor for some big, important grade? Don’t ya need this to pass your class?”
He’s not wrong. Without his help, you’re basically fucked for the rest of the semester.
“Yeah, I...actually really do,” you answer hesitantly.
Hope blooms in your chest. Maybe your thesis isn’t totally lost. If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll even be able to focus on your lessons.
“I think we can keep this professional. Don’t you?” he implores, brows raised.
He’s right again. That’s the only way this is going to work, but it’s still a reminder that he’s not interested in you in the slightest. You’re not sure why that feels so bad.
“Totally,” you breathe out, but your expression must betray your words because he rushes to reassure you.
“It’s not that I—look, I mean…you’re a beautiful girl ‘n all, but…,” he trails off, and…what?
Beautiful. He can’t have just said that out of the blue. Beautiful, of all the words he could’ve used to describe you right then. This man is driving you crazy—and he won’t stop.
“Can’t help feelin’ like maybe I gave ya the wrong impression. I took advantage of ya,” he looks away, pained, like this was all his fault. You have no idea how he came to that conclusion, but he’s got it all wrong.
“What—no. No, if anything, I took advantage of you. You were just trying to be a good teacher,” you shake your head furiously. “Look, I did this. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t pull away, now, did I?”
His eyes meet yours again, darker than before, and you know for a fact you’re not making it up this time. The setting sun is casting shadows around his living room, across his 80s-style leather couch and carpet, illuminating every one of his handsome features.
And, yet, his eyes are black, endless voids that threaten to consume you. Whatever power he has over you feels dangerous. You knew you couldn’t have imagined it all.
But it's gone as quickly as it came. He clears his throat, dropping your wrist as if he finally came to his senses. Your patient, unaffected guitar teacher is back.
“I, uh, think maybe that about wraps it up for today,” he says with finality, standing up. “It's already eight, anyhow. You should head on home.”
Gently plucking the guitar from your hands, he zips it up in its case and gives it back to you. You nod, feeling grateful, but cautious...and also extremely curious. His hand finds the small of your back, leading you to the front door, and you try your best not to react as his fingers urge you forward.
You know you’ll be thinking about them later tonight, even though you really shouldn’t. About them finishing what you started earlier, taking care of you like you still want him to. Part of you hopes he’ll be thinking about yours, too.
His hand drops and he turns to you with a small smile, leaning on his arm against the doorframe.
"But, uh, same time tomorrow? And maybe put in a little practice time before then—stretch out those fingers so you're ready to play."
“Sure,” you reply breathily. “Same time tomorrow.”
thanks for reading! part ii coming soon 🥰
(p.s. how are we feeling about finger sucking...okay bye)
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#joel miller
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A/N: I'm reposting this cause the tags didn't work the first time <3
Demon brothers x gn!MC
Demon brothers x MC that info-dumps about their familiars
Lucifer
Whenever he feels like the two of you haven't spent enough time together due to his work, he invites you into his office to hang out. He enjoys hearing you talk excitedly about your passions while he does paperwork.
He can't say he has too much of an interest in peacocks, but he loves hearing you talk about the things you love, so he'll let you talk until you've had your fill.
"So peacocks apparently peacocks feathers are covered in tiny crystal-like structures that reflect different wavelengths of light depending on how they're spaced."
"Also, since only male peacocks have the large train of feathers, do you think it played a role in them being your familiars? Since you're the avatar of pride and all of that."
"That's quite the theory you've got there, but I'm afraid I don't know how true it actually is."
"Still, I would love to hear more facts that you have, I can see from the expression on your face that you're dying to do so"
"And before you ask, yes, my feathers have the crystal-like structures, you can have a closer look if you would like"
His ego does grow quite a bit every time you go into one or your rants since he can tell you're talking so much about peacock cause they are his familiars.
He will probably buy you something peacock inspired to give you during one of your info-dumps.
God forbid you start gushing about his familiars in front of Diavolo. The prince will see it as a way to talk even more about Lucifer, and the former isn't sure how much he can deal with that.
Mammon
He has a pretty good base knowledge about crows. Out of all of his brothers, he probably works with his familiars the most. It's canon that he literally uses them to spy on people and gather information.
Still, there are a lot of things he might not know. And even if he knew, he would die before telling you to stop talking.
"Your crows are so cute, did you know that they are considered some of the world's smartest birds?"
"Of course they are! They're the Great Mammon's familiars after all"
"They are also known to gossip with their peers and hold grudges"
"I am well aware of that fact, more often than not they tell me the latest gossip in Devildom"
He would let you hang out with his crows in order to learn more about them.
I also have the headcanon that he can talk with them, so he would literally be a translator for you and the crows
"Feel free to ask them anything, I will translate whatever they say!"
Is pretty smug about the fact that you are so interested in his familiars, even so when you interact with them. He might even give you some accessories made out of his familiars' feathers(of course, feathers that have fallen on their own)
Leviathan
Bold of you to assume he doesn't know already everything there is about snakes already, he is literally one!
"Levi, did you know that snakes can smell with their tongues and a good amount of them have shit eyesight?"
"Henry the 1st used to have a bad eyesight!! They also don't really stop growing. This is more obvious with Devildom snakes tho"
He would honestly be really touched by your eagerness to learn and tell him about snakes since he is pretty much one. He sees it as you being interested in him on a whole new level and gets really excited when you info-dump about them.
Leviathan, on the verge of crying internally "They actually care about me!"
NB! Levi would actually really appreciate it tho. His demon form is that of a snake and he also got a pet snake, so any new info is more than welcome. Especially about how to deal with shedding.
"MC, you've got to help me! You know a lot about snakes, so could you tell me why my tail feels so itchy???"
Satan
Your info-dump session about unicorns is pretty much a 'is it true that they actually do that??' kind of thing
He still touched about you wanting to learn more about his familiars so he is always willing to answear any and all of your questions. He might even take you to see some of them.
"Is it true that unicorns can use magic with their horn?"
"Saying they can cast magic is far stretched. They have some abilities specific to their kind that can be used with or without the horn."
Cats on the other hand? Doesn't matter if he already know whatever fact you want to tell him, he is always more than happy to discuss about them.
Hell, he might be the one info-dumping about cats before you get the chance to do so.
"Did you know that cats can have up to 100 different vocalizations? Dogs only have like 10"
"They are also believed to be the only mammal who doesn't taste sweetness, which I find unfortunate. Still, they truly are amazing creatures"
More often than not Solomon is dragged in the conversations too due to the 'Cat' group chat that three of you have. Not like he minds, he loves cats too.
Asmodeus
He lets you info-dump about scorpions while he does your hair/nails/helps you with you skin care.
"Is you info-dumping about my familiars your way of telling me that you love me~"
Your self care sessions are also info-dump sessions, so you kill two birds with one stone.
"Did you know that scorpions are capable of dissolving their pray from the inside out. They also glow under ultraviolet light??"
"It's only natural that my familiars would be able to do this, they are my familiars after all ♡. Maybe I should use some make up the glows in the dark"
Since you've started to info-dump about his familiars to him, his outfits/nails/accessories have started to have a scorpion motif to them quite often
He also tells you one of the facts you've told him before while he shows off his scorpion inspired accesories. It's his way of showing that he listens to your rants.
"Scorpions can do that, can't they? Remember when you told me this last night?"
Beelzebub
He doesn't really know a lot about his familiars but he has an odd fondness about them. He can't really bring himself to kill them, tho flies tend to leave him alone anyway.
He thinks is really sweet that you know so much about those little guys, so he is always happy to sit and listen to you.
If you feel like info-dumping about flies, feel free to do it whenever you like. He is raiding the fridge? You can help him carry some of the food while you tell him more about his familiars. He is working out? He can hear loud and clear. He might not be the most responsive during some of those moments but he is always listening to you.
He is aware that out of all of his brothers, his familiar is not the cutest or the coolest one, so when you start talking about it, he can't help but feel really loved.
"Beel, did you know that flies can taste food using their feet?"
"It would be pretty usefull to know how food would taste just by touching, not like I would care if the food would taste bad, I would still eat it"
"Also, due to their eyes being compound they can also see behind their back. They actually have a 360° field of view"
"I also have that in my demon form, it came in handy a lot of times"
"YOU HAVE WHAT?!"
Belphegor
Lying on the attic bed while facing the ceiling "Shouldn't your familiar be a bull instead of a cow, since you're a guy and all of that?"
"Just shut up and cuddle me.."
While he thinks cows look comfy enough to take a nap, he does not care about them. But he care about you, so he is more than willing to cuddle up with you while you info-dump.
"Cows are actually pretty nice, they can spend about 10 hours a day lying down and they can also sleep while standing...are you even listening to me...?"
Belphegor, looking on the verge of falling asleep "hmm? Yeah I'm listening.."
Despite looking like he is one second from falling asleep or even downright sleeping, he actually listens to you. He can pay attention to things even in his sleep, how do you think he has really high grades at RAD? so he is listening to all of the cow facts you're telling him.
Anytime you doubt that he has been listening, he will tell you a fact that you've told him in the past to show that he was in fact listening.
"Cows can sleep while standing, right? You're the one who told me, so you should know. Now get closer, I want to use your lap as a pillow."
If you dare to do any kind of jokes about him being a cowboy, he will kick out of the bed.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me x mc#obey me x reader#obey me headcanons#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me lucifer headcanons#obey me lucifer x mc#obey me mammon headcanons#obey me mammon x reader#obey me leviathan headcanons#obey me leviathan x mc#obey me satan headcanons#obey me satan x reader#obey me asmodeus headcanons#obey me asmodeus x mc#obey me beelzebub headcanons#obey me beelzebub x reader#obey me belphegor headcanons#obey me belphegor x mc
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You don't know how he does stuff like this. What does this even mean? It's nonsense. Is it even syntactically viable?? Are you allowed to color text like that??? ARGH. Maybe you should ask him about it some time.
...hm.
You see, at first glance, this code does look syntactically viable, but only if we don’t pair the brackets in the way the coloring implies. If we write the code like this:
Then it’s a loop bound to the lifespan of Universe 1. Inside that main loop, it’s running a loop bound to the inverse of Universe 2′s lifespan - my guess being that this loop only runs while Universe 2 is dead.
If Universe 2 is ever registered as ‘alive’, the program waits for the blue THIS to die, and then continues. And when the main Universe 1 loop ends, it will wait for the red THIS to die, and finally exits.
In other words: This program will exit when U1 is dead, U2 is alive, and both ‘bifurcated’ iterations of THIS are dead.
However, the red/blue coloring implies that the brackets are paired in a completely nonsensical way.
I’m with Karkat here, this is nonsense. You can’t put the top half of one code block inside another - at least, not in any language I’ve worked with. I’m sure there are weird, esoteric languages that do it, but it’s definitely not the syntax du jour.
This ‘merged bracket’ interpretation is probably the correct one, though, since the colors match up. The reason this compiles at all is probably due to the special behavior of bifurcate THIS[], which we’re not privy to.
I do have a theory about what bifurcate is doing here, but... oh my god , guys, this is so silly. Will I post it? I’m going to post it.
TA wears 3D glasses, right?
What if we’re meant to do the same?
If we view these two loops as not inside each other, but adjacent to each other in 3D space, then this code makes a lot more sense. Suddenly we’re just looking at two simple death loops - one which exits when U1 dies, and one which exits when U2 lives.
They’re not blocking each other, because they’re probably executing on different threads, which may be the true function of bifurcate. Viewed like this, this code becomes a simple, multithreaded script that works similarly to my original interpretation - the difference being that now, the colors match up properly. It’s kind of beautiful, to be honest.
Now that I’m viewing this program as two threads, it seems as if the blue loop waits for the red thread to die before it can exit, and vice versa.
If I’m right about this, it means that this program is deadlocked - neither thread can exit, because it’s waiting for the other one. The two threads are back to blocking each other, and this program will never exit.
This code, when executed, immediately causes the user's computer to explode, and places a curse on the user forever, along with everyone he knows, and everyone he'll ever meet.
Not surprisingly, later on you would run this code in a fit of stupidity.
None of this, however, explains why it curses the user.
I think I need to borrow Karkat’s ~ATH manual.
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Hazbin Hotel Has Better Theology Than Most Modern "Christian" Stories
As a Christian who was raised in a fundie cult and escaped to now have a far healthier and vital faith, I genuinely really like this show. The songs are bops. The characters are well crafted and interesting, and likable too. The art design is bizarre but appealing.
And, as a theology nerd who studied theology as part leaving said cult and also has since gotten papers published in theology, I'm actually fairly impressed by the show's handling of theology.
No, I'm not expecting the story to preach or even like, be explicitly Christian in a lot of ways. But it's taking a lot of the really beautiful aspects of Christian theology and re-contextualizing them in a way designed to provoke thought: by juxtaposing them with the antithesis of what you would think, by making demons heroes. In my opinion, this makes the beauty shine brighter.
Yeah, yeah, it's designed to be offensive and obscene in a lot of ways. Yet, it's never (thus far) mean-spirited. On the contrary, it seems to have a big, beating heart at its core that is perhaps best embodied by Charlie Morningstar, its protagonist and the daughter of Lucifer and Lilith.
Critique of the Church, with Caveats
The story works best with an interpretation that heaven isn't actually heaven or God (who has been conspicuously absent), but instead as a critique of the church. Specifically, the evangelical American church, and specifically, white evangelicals. (Same as She-Ra's premise, actually).
God's absence therefore makes sense, because while Christians do believe God is present as a living reality among us, we also can't like, see him physically now. So, God being not even mentioned in HH makes it seem more like a mortal reality rather than an immortal one. Honestly I kinda hope God doesn't appear in the story, not only because I think it could cross some lines (which is admittedly personal), but also because I don't see that the story really needs it.
Adam in particular reminds me of every "theobro" on Twitter (I'm not calling it what you want me to, El*n). Basically a dudebro coopting his supposed salvation to flex in an often misogynistic way, who doesn't realize that he has absolutely no love in him and therefore is actually a worse human being than everyone he condemns on the regular.
(Which is kind of why I'm expecting Adam to wake up in hell next season...)
Think red hats. And Mark Driscoll. And, I have a list of pastors. Sigh. They advocate for how "simple" Christianity is, except they themselves make it ridiculously complicated and don't even examine what they suppose is "simple" if it requires them to take the planks out of their own eyes. "Shallow" is a better description of what they actually preach.
But what sends people to hell or heaven anyways?
Eschatology and Atonement Theory
Hazbin Hotel combines a lot of theories, throwing not only the idea of a physical hell (albeit mixed with Dante's idea of what hell is the Inferno, but to be fair a lot of the church has adopted that idea too) but the idea of annihilation, which HH calls "extermination."
See, in Christianity, there's a lot of debate about hell. Like, since 2000 years ago. The reason is because a lot of Bible verses seem to indicate hell, but others indicate the eventual redemption and salvation of absolutely everything in the universe, so you have Christian universalism tracing itself back just as long. But, setting aside universalism, people who do believe in hell tend to fall into one of two camps:
Physical hell, aka suffering for eternity, or annihilation: the idea that souls that aren't saved end up annihilated, or snuffed from existence. HH combines both of them, wherein everyone lives in hell but then every so often heaven "exterminates" a certain number of sinners.
And then you also have Catholic purgatory, which is also adapted in HH in that... for most Christians, physical hell doesn't offer the ability to redeem yourself. Chance over, you're dead. But, Catholic Christianity, which draws on ideas of praying for the dead, has the idea that people can improve themselves or be prayed out of it and into heaven. This seems to be somewhat similar to the idea of Charlie's hotel, in that sinners can improve, redeem themselves, and rise to heaven.
And, I mean, it's already kinda worked. Sir Pentious acted out Jesus' words: Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends (John 15:13).
But anyways, the branch of theology that deals with the afterlife is eschatology. And Hazbin Hotel takes on a related form of theology as well, a type of theology I've only seen covered in stories once before (The House in Fata Morgana): atonement theory.
Atonement theory is something I remember well from my theology 101 class, as in I remember sitting with a friend and her turning to me and being like, "okay, so we know Jesus' death and resurrection give us eternal life, but we have no idea how or why?" To which the answer was "basically, yeah."
Most of the white, American evangelical church is very "penal substitutionary atonement," but the reality is that this theory has only been popular for the past few hundred years. It's also, imo, somewhat scripturally unsound. But there are a lot of other theories, and sometimes the theories overlap. Here's a fairly decent summary. (I'm in general a believer in Christus Victor.)
So how does atonement theory tie into Hazbin Hotel? Well, essentially the scene where Charlie and Vaggie are debating with Emily, Sera, Adam, Lute, and others in heaven is them going over various atonement theories and realizing that they actually know nothing at all. How does one get to heaven? How is one saved? They don't know.
Sera criticizing Emily for asking questions was also very relatable, and I feel for Sera. She's genuinely scared but the truth will set you free, Sera. John 8:32. Anyways, the point is like... the angels are an organized religion, an evangelical church, that preaches about simplicity but mistakes shallowness for simplicity and discourages depth and discovery.
Anyways, the whole crux of theological study and atonement theories is that they should promote humility. We don't know for certain on this side of the curtain. That's okay. So what do we have to guide us?
Love. After all, God is love (1 John 4:8).
Charlie is Jesus
"Why would you endanger your immortal life for these sinners?"
Adam, the absolute worst, says the above to Charlie in the finale.
I mean... look. That's literally the premise of Christianity. That the immortal son of God comes down to earth, lives with sinners, loves us, and dies to save us. However that happens. Charlie even responds:
"They're my family!"
In other words, she loves them. Yeah, sure, they're destined for extermination, but they are going to be exterminated over her dead body.
In a lot of branches of Christianity, and even in some creeds--though I'm going to give into my pet peeves here and state that it is NOT Scriptural and relies on the faulty assumption that God is bound by time, when I think God exists outside of it--state that Jesus descended into hell after his death and took all the souls of people who were saved prior to his coming to earth to heaven. Again, I think that's small-minded at best. But, the idea that Charlie is working among them to bring them to heaven is pretty reminiscent of this idea. And I don't hate it lol.
Charlie sees worth inherent in everyone, and no matter what they've done, thinks there's a future for them. Honestly we need people like her on this earth.
Angel Dust
Angel Dust is clearly my favorite character. Bite back your shock, I know (I have a type). But his name is also a fascinating multi-layered pun.
Angel is clearly foreshadowing his endgame. Let's be real, we all know Angel is ending up as an angel. And "angeldust" is of course a name for PCP, and considering Angel's drug habits, yeah.
But, dust also has another meaning to it. See, when Adam was created in Genesis 2:7, the words in Hebrew are "apar min ha'adamah," which is translated literally as "dust of the ground." So the dust is what creates Adam, literally "ground."
In other words, I very much expect Angel Dust to end up being foiled with Adam even more so. Adam might be the first man, but Angel is the first sinner working towards redemption. And let's be real, for all Angel's flaws, he's already a better person than Adam. And if there's any hope for Adam (not that I particularly care if there is but) it'd be through realizing that he and Angel aren't actually different after all. Conversely (and not necessarily mutually exclusively), Angel might serve as a more symbolic "adam" in that he becomes the person all sinners look to for hope. Which, y'know, since "the last Adam" is also a Scriptural term for Jesus...
And so it is written, “The first man Adam became a living being.” The last Adam became a life-giving spirit. (1 Corinthians 15:45).
I fully expect Angel's arc, alongside Charlie's, to bring life and redemption for everyone around them. Maybe, maybe even the dramatic "all" of Colossians 1:20 (which means, literally, all, everything, everywhere, in the entire universe).
Closing Thoughts
But honestly, regardless of how the story ends--besides that it will presumably end happily because HH is at its core feel-good despite being profane--season one at least has got good theology. Why? Because it's digging into the questions that theology is concerned with. It's digging into the ideas of human nature, of what it means to be a good person, of what it means to redeem oneself, of affirming how precious each individual human soul is.
It doesn't offer cheap answers, and it specifically calls out the white American evangelical church for how it purports to be simple but actually just confuses people and punishes them for things they can't help, that creates more stumbling blocks than it does shine a light. And it does it in a way that is scandalous. Offensive to many religious people.
But, y'know, Jesus was pretty scandalous too.
So I really love the story so far because it emphasizes what I find so beautiful about my religion, and criticizes the parts that have also hurt me. I don't think it's remotely aiming to be a Christian allegory or anything like that, and I don't at all think anyone has to be religious to enjoy it or gain the core message of it, but I do think that it's doing a hell of a lot more good in the world message-wise than most evangelical movies of the past 30 years.
#hazbin hotel#hamliet reviews#theology#christianity#charlie morningstar#jesus#angel dust#angel hazbin hotel
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